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] You’re on a mission, not from God, but from someone else up there. God must not find out.	[ "\n\nOn a mission from the department \n\n\n\nLife as an angel is meant to be pretty sweet but sometimes it sucked. Bill was to be clear not a, very high angel. He wasn't exactly clear on the level as he also wasn't a very good angel so couldn't remember his heavenly order. One thing he knew for sure was he was heaven sent but not on a mission from God. Oh no if the boss found out he would be pissed right off. He was on a Mission from the department. Again Bill hadn't got the confidence to ask what the department actual was the department of but he assume it was something like heavenly order or something. \n\n\nSo he had been given a job. A tough and dangerous job. Mostly he had got this job because no one else wanted it. Apparently some time after the creation the parts department had checked and found some of the great tools of creation missing. This was big news for these items were the very things the prod almighty had used to rend the very ferment into shape. And yet somehow some bugger had lost them. \n\n\nFirst tool the paintbrush of the sky. Last seen around a country called Italy near the Vatican. Maybe the pope had asked to see it. Bill flew down and assumed the form of a humble servant. The air of the place relatively reeked of the paint of God and most of all was this big white building. He entered and started to look around for evidence of the brush. \n\n\n“can I help you?” said an apprentice in thick overalls. \n\n\n“oh just looking for something my master dropped when he was here last” said bill \n\n\n“oh I know it’s a bit of a mess but when my master is at work he really goes for it” said the apprentice. \n\n\n“I know what you…” said Bill and stopped as his eyes looked up. For a moment he thought he was back in heaven. “the ceiling” said Bill aghast. \n\n\n“ah yes the great work. Some of my masters finest painting. From his brush such master strokes enough to inspire mankind” said the apprentice \n\n\nShit thought bill. This was surely the work of the brush and he should act right away to retrieve it but that art was so good. Surely he knew he couldn't even if it meant gritting in trouble. He hung his head and turned away. \n\n\nHe spent a few hours watching the fountain when he heard a voice. “hay Bill” said the voice. “hay..! Boss” said Bill in a sudden jump when he saw the, source of the voice was the boss himself. He thought he was toast. “good job back there. You did exactly right. I admit I was testing you.” said the boss \n\n“testing me. But I did t take the paintbrush from the humans” said bill. “I know. I knew you wouldn't and I wanted them to have it. How did you think they got it in the first place. I wanted to see if they could use it well. So far I'm impressed” he said taking in the view. “I can't think why the angels thought I wouldn't know. I mean you know I'm me” said the boss. \n\n\n[heavily shortened but I could put in more if anyone wants] \n\n", "You want a revolution, you’ve got one.\n\nI met an angel one night. Half drunk, half stupid, a cigarette between my lips. A blinding light flashed in an alleyway that I was walking by. I went in.\n\nWhen I emerged, I couldn’t remember what had happened. I was stone-cold sober, and my cigarette had gone out between my lips, leaving me sucking on that ratty post-burn aftertaste. I relit it and the message was clear in my mind.\n\nYour God has grown weary, callous, and uncaring. There was a time when He would make special appearances to special folks, but now He just sits upon His golden throne and sighs at the folly of man. He watches us with the same fascination that you would watch an ant colony setting up shop in the driveway of a house with a small child. Good on you for building, but sooner or later someone is going to grab a pack of matches or a magnifying glass and burn your world down.\n\nYour preconceived notions of God are a fallacy. The Ten Commandments? Hell, God fucked his proverbial neighbor’s wife to create Jesus—you’re buying this shit? Maybe a necessary evil back then to create the Messiah, but now—“Shut the fuck up and leave me alone,” He spake unto them.\n\nWith a world spinning out of control, it’s good to know that someone up there still gives a fuck.\n\nAnd whatever it was, it chose me. And it told me that revolution was necessary. Start immediately, there’s no time to spare.\n\nSo I followed its instructions. I set off to a new bar, and I met a man. Possibly a Thing, and not a man. It wore a deeply hooded sweatshirt, and drank water only. Sitting at a high-top across from it, its breath steamed after every sip. I drank whiskey. No way was I doing this without a fucking drink.\n\nThere was no small talk. “Do you have it?” Asked the hooded thing.\n\n“Yeah,” I said. I reached into my pocket and drew out a small leather pouch, placed it on the table. The hooded thing took it, opened it, and checked its contents.\n\n“Okay,” it said. “Consider it done.”\n\nI didn’t ask what. I didn’t know or want to know what was in the pouch, and I didn’t know or want to know what this thing drinking water and expelling mist before me was. I knocked back the rest of my whiskey and took off. Figured I’d head home and get some shut-eye after starting the celestial revolution.\n\nBut on the walk home, there was another bright light in an alley nearby. I sighed, and approached the alley, not quite feeling ready for my next set of instructions. I didn’t understand the rules of this game, but I was playing it. I took a step into the alley and then—\n\nUp.\n\nI cartwheeled through the sky, up and up, higher and higher, above the clouds. My only insane, irrational thought—Is this what the Rapture feels like?\n\nNo. The Rapture does not feel like this. I found myself sprawled on the ground on a rough stone floor, firelight flickering around me. I looked up and saw a pair of sandaled feet, and then saw an angel standing before me. It held a sword in its hand, lazily prying chunks of stone out of the floor with the tip as it waited for me to come to. It was silhouetted by torches in wall sconces, and I could not identify which angel it was. Not that my knowledge of angels is up to snuff, anyway.\n\nIt saw that my senses had returned and spoke gruffly. “You’re here because you’ve committed crimes against God, how do you plead?”\n\n“I want a lawyer,” I said.\n\n“In the absence of a plea, I make one for you: guilty,” said the angel. It raised its sword above its head, and then slashed at the ground before me with terrific force. The stone floor opened up beneath me, and then—\n\nDown.\n\nDown and down I went, through the city, under the city, under the train platforms and the dwellings of the mole-people. My vision blackened around the edges, and then I finally landed with an almighty thump on another rough stone floor. I stood up and looked around.\n\nI was in a cell. Thick iron bars stopped me from exiting. The entire place was lit by the orange glow of fire cascading in through the solitary window. I stood up and tried the cell door, and it wouldn’t budge. I turned around to try the window, and saw a slumped figure in the corner get up.\n\nAnother angel, broken and beaten. Blood matted its beard and hair, ran down its arms and torso. Darker, venous blood oozed from the stumps of its severed wings. And then it all came back to me. Everything that had transpired in the alleyway the first time I stepped foot into the light. The ideas and ideals of revolution, the start of a new and hopeful world.\n\n“I guess we fucked this one up, huh Gabe?” I said.\n\nThe angel Gabriel stood and moved to the window, staring across the scattered hellscape of fire and molten rock that would be our only view for the next thousand-thousand years.\n\n“Yes,” he said. “That’s the problem with hiding things from omniscience.\n\n“It can’t be done.”", "\"Would you like some coffee, darling?\"\n\nThe smell of freshly ground arabica beans filled my nostrils. The sizzle of bacon on a not-too-distant grill. Bright, neon lights shining from above. I looked around the 50's diner, aware that a few seconds ago I was brushing my teeth getting ready for bed. Do I see clouds out the window?\n\n\"Ahem. Would you like some coffee?\" \n\nThe diner appeared empty. I couldn't see any body to match the source of this coffee-voice. I could tell its tone was getting impatient though.\n\n\"Darling. Hello? Coffee?\"\n\n\"Sorry, ahh... yes please, but I... I ahhh can't see you, and I don't know where I actually am. Am I being Shoney'd?\"\n\nA pot of fresh black coffee appeared on the table I found myself seated at, replete with a tray of cream, sugar, milk and a tub of fairy floss. \n\n\"Sorry human, I cannot manifest a form visible to your eyesight, but you are in the Celestial Cafe. I do not know what 'Shoney'd' is though, but I know you have nothing to fear, I come in peace\"\n\nThe seat opposite me slid back and then scuttled forward, like an invisible form had just sat itself down. The lid of the fairy floss container opens and some floats out.\n\n\"Fuck, I forget how good this stuff is, do you want some? Are you hungry, can I get you anything? I've got human food. I've got non-human food too, but I know you guys like bacon!\"\n\nI must have hit my head. What is going on. I was brushing my teeth, now... ghost bacon. \n\n\"Sorry... where is this Celestial Cafe. And why am I here.. and who are you?\"\n\n\"Ugh. I forget how hard it is dealing with non-ominprescents. Listen, try and keep up, this will be a steep learning curve, are you sure you don't want any food? Trust me, eat something while I talk. What do you want, anything, I got it covered.\"\n\nThis is just a dream. A lucid dream? Lets find out.\n\n\"A medium Kobe steak and a plate of red aeroplane jelly, please\"\n\nI felt like the steaming hunk of beef was in-front of my face before I had finished saying please. The jelly wobbling left and right from momentum but coming to a gentle stand still. If the upcoming monologue was going to be boring, at least I have some nicely marbled magic steak.\n\n\"The Celestial Cafe is a meeting place, roughly 678 million kilometres from your Earth, but really we can't measure that in just distance, as we are on a completely different dimensional plane. There is great coffee, great food, great views, and it's where you and I are currently co-habitating space within. As for why you are here, well I need a favour - actually I need your help. You don't have to help me, and I will be able to find someone else if you don't, but it would be really swell if you could help me out.\"\n\n\"And who exactly are you, disembodied voice?\" I asked in between mouthfuls of the best steak I had ever eaten. \n\n\"Do you know God?\"\n\nI almost inhaled a chunk of meat, scoffing at the question. \"God? Are you... god?\"\n\n\"No no no no no. No, I'm not God. But I'm like god. Your Earth God, the beardy one, and maybe a few of the others - I lose track of who is who, but they are like me, and I am like them. We are beings of a heightened existence to you humans, we exist on many dimensional planes, doing this and that. Some - like 'God' - enjoy tooling about with lesser civilisations and peoples around the univi. Others, like myself, enjoy other pursuits. Your planet is firmly within 'Gods' domain, and while I could visit and collect what I want, it would be a huge faux pas and not something I want to have associated with my name at this current point, in this current millennia, that's why I need your help. You may call me Bob.\"\n\n\"Bob? Your name is Bob? But your voice sounds distinctly female to my ears?\" This red jelly was making me courageous, here I am questioning a inter-dimensional entity. My psychologist is going to love this.\n\n\"I said you can call me Bob. You cannot comprehend my physical being, you cannot comprehend the sounds of my natural vocalisations, and you cannot pronounce my name, nor understand the concept of gender within our species, so you can call me Bob, understood, human?\"\n\nI better not annoy it. I might be able to get another steak out of this. Do dream meals have calories?\n\n\"You mentioned you need to collect something. I presume you mean you need me to collect something for you?\" \n\n\"Correct human! But God can't know about it! Sure, you could go back, and pray, and maybe God will hear you and you might be able to dob me in, but I can guarantee you're existence as you know it will be terminated shortly after you spill the beans. It will get real Old Testament up in your life, and that never ends well.\"\n\nBob the god continued, \"But what I need you to get, it will be easy. Its just a collection of papers bound together by cows hide, like a menu, but with lots of pages, do you know what type of item I am describing?\"\n\n\"Like a book?\" Far out, here I am being asked by a god named bob to get a book. No more cheese after 8pm.\n\n\"Yes! A book! Getting the book will be easy, getting it back to me will be harder. I'll help you with some plans, and I can manifest you up some capital to help, but once I send you back, it will mostly be up to your ingenuity and tenacity to finish the task. I'm not expecting it to be done overnight. I can wait years. Decades even! Maybe not too long, as you might reach the end of your own natural lifespan, but you get the picture.\"\n\n\"I hate to ask, Bob. But, is there anything in it for me?\"\n\n\"Would you like another steak?\"\n\n----------------------\n\nIt had been 22 years since my trip to the Celestial Cafe. With the subtle guidance from Bob, I had worked hard and meticulously to bring me to this point. I had found the book almost immediately upon my return. It wasn't for sale at the time, but within the next few years I had earned enough money to just buy the library where it was being held. Finishing up the return part of the mission had taken a bit more effort, but here we are. \n\nI'd read the book - I had to, right? But there didn't seem to be anything special about it, just a middling piece of mid-90's fiction. But everything that Bob had guided me towards had brought positivity to my life, and especially my bank balance, so why stop now?\n\n\"Final checks look good, sir. We're ready to seal it up for countdown\"\n\nI looked up from the dashboard of my car towards the senior engineer standing near the hatch of the payload capsule, nodding my understanding. I slipped the book into the glove box, made sure the correct song was ready on sound system, patted Starman symbolically one last the shoulders, and headed for the door. \n\n\"Say hi to Bob for me\" I muttered as I climbed out of the roadster.\n\n\"Mr Musk, we're ready to start the final countdown\"\n\nGod can't stop us now. \n\n\n\nEDIT: I was unaware of Musk's pedo twitter outburst at the time of posting. Guy is getting weird.", "“Who sent you?”\n\nThe Angel smacked me with the hilt of his sword, and I had the urge to yelp in pain. This was certainly not part of the plan. He caressed the hilt, and then smacks me another time as I feel my lip split. I hold back tears as I lick my lip, preventing blood from spilling out onto my off-white uniform. \n\n“Really? Is that all you got, whelp?”\n\nHe smacks me another time, this time on the shoulder. I wince, but it wasn’t as bad as the lip. He then flips the sword around and points it at my throat. I swallow, and try not to look too much at the sharpened end shining in the firelight.\n\n“I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation.”\n\nHe grabs me by the collar of my uniform and pulls me up. His grip is tight, and is face is locked in a frightening grimace.\n\n“We caught you, Mr. Vargas. We know you were attempting to sabotage Revelations. We just-“\n\nHe pounds me against the back of the chair.\n\n“-don’t know why!”\n\nHe lets go of my collar, and bares his teeth. \n\n“So, tell us who put you up to this, and God shall be merciful as he always is. The man who hired you is a traitor, an enemy of God.”\n\nI smile, and straighten myself out as best I can.\n\n“The man who hired me is a hero. You know what your God intends to do with Revelations. How many lives will be lost, simply because they believed in something else!? Believed in one of those deities that your damn God put an end to like lambs to a slaughter!”\n\nMy Angel interrogator screams, and that is the last thing I hear before darkness takes over." ]	4
	[WP] "Millennials are killing the superhero industry!"	[ "In front of the desk sat Brady Pratt, disinterestedly spinning his swivel chair back and forth in half arcs. Left. Right. Left. Right. His hands were folded at his waist, fingers interlocked, as they often were when he was bored. Or when he was mad. Or when he was thinking, which he did a lot. Really, Brady just liked that pose.\n\nBehind the desk was Daniel, Brady's father, who was currently snarling at a seemingly innocent stack of papers. One could say that Daniel's head was resting in his hands. One could more accurately say that Daniel's hands were violently clenching his face, fingers digging into his flesh, knuckles white as the bone beneath them.\n\n\"Record losses this quarter,\" Daniel grumbled, \"it's all because of those damn Millennials.\"\n\n\"How?\" Brady responded \"Millennial Man and Mrs Millennial are two of our hottest heroes, and Millennial Boy is...\"\n\n\"Not those Millennials, boy.\" Daniel took a swig of wine, an action that disgusted Brady to his very core. Fine wine was meant to be savored, not gulped down like some cheap booze one could pick up at a 7/11. \"You know, the teenagers and shit.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Brady said, \"those Millennials. Though, technically, teens aren't...\"\n\n\"These young folks today don't want to pay for a vetted, quality hero.\" Daniel interrupted, rather rudely. \"They'd prefer some crappy freelancers. It's that Instant Hero™ app that's really doing it. The fucking Uber for superheroes, they say.\" Brady cringed as Daniel took another swig of the wine. \"And it's not just them. With all these new heroes popping up out of the woodwork, the State Department is talking about dropping our contracts and hiring super mercenaries. Can you believe that?.\"\n\nBrady decided not to point out the fact that Pratt Industries' heroes were basically mercenaries, themselves.\n\n\"If our situation is that poor,\" Brady said, \"perhaps we should consider changing gears. We could...\"\n\n\"No, \" Daniel interrupted again, equally as rudely.\n\n\"You don't even know what I was going to say,\" Brady huffed.\n\n\"I do,\" he did, \"we've had this discussion a hundred times over now, and my answer isn't changing. Pratt industries deals in human weapons, not in toys.\"\n\n\"It's not just toys, Dad. It's video games, it's reality TV, movie rights. Every single hero employed through Pratt Industries is its own IP waiting to be exploited.\" Brady's hands were folded now, fingers interlocked. Well, they were before as well, but this time it was because of anger, rather than boredom or thinking.\n\n\"Let me be clear. I forged this company from scraps,\" Scraps, in Daniel's case, being a two million dollar inheritance from his father. \"As long as I'm CEO, we are NOT selling toys.\"\n\nBrady nodded in seeming acceptance. Then he started grinning, not unlike the way one might imagine a wolf would grin at an injured deer.\n\n\"Oh, right, that's actually why I came by,\" Brady rifled through a briefcase at his side, and pulled out a stack of papers, and passed them to his father. \"These are for you.\"\n\nWithin a matter of minutes, as Daniel skimmed the paperwork, his eyes bounced from confusion to shock back to confusion to anger.\n\n\"How! When did this happen?\" Daniel's jaws refused to close.\n\n\"At the last board meeting, I gave the board my pitch for where the company needs to go to survive, to adapt to the modern world. You couldn't attend, as per usual nowadays, on account of being drunk off your ass. Needless to say, they preferred \n my vision over yours. This is my company now. And one way or another, I'm going to drag this company kicking and screaming into the 21st Century. For the good of the everyone, I'd like for you to step down peacefully.\"\n\nFor the longest time, the father and son glared at each other. Each measuring the other up. Brady's fingers were interlocked. After what felt like a lifetime, but in reality couldn't have been more than two minutes, Daniel spoke.\n\n\"Fine,\" he said in resignation.", "God, these damn millennials with their \"Instachat\" and \"Snapgram\", and their stupid Selphies. I hate it! They are ruining the superhero industry, and should just get off my damn lawn. The capes nowadays don't have any flair, and pizzazz. Back in my day we had the fanciest capes around, with the coolest powers, and we didn't stop every FIVE DAMN SECONDS to take a Selphie. Nope, not at all. I miss the good old days.", "\"Millennials are killing the superhero industry!\" was printed in big, bold letters on the Sunday paper. With a sigh, Jerry pulled his eyes away from the headline and gutted the paper for the Sunday funnies. He flicked the television on and kicked up his old suede recliner and decided to see what the daily junior jumble was.\n\n\"In other news today,\" said the news anchor in a perfect tone to grab ones attention and make one turn the volume down on their televisions. \"Are Millennials killing the superhero industry? Certain political parties say yes.\"\n\nJerry groaned, put aside the junior jumble and dug the remote out of the crevice in his recliner and pressed the power button three times before the television finally shut off. \"Hey, Muriel! Is this what them young internet people call clickbaiting?\" he hollered into his little tenement. A voice called back, \"What is what?\"\n\nA stout woman in a bright yellow shirt and faded purple sweat pants with glasses hanging from her face waddled into the room. \"What is what now?\" she asked again.\n\n\"All this damn... er, news is all the same! Millennials are killing the superhero industry... Feh!\" he scoffed with a wave of his hand before peering at Garfield and Friends. \"I went down to the fish & Tackle shop downtown the other day, and these two old geezers-- older than us, Muriel! They were arguing and complaining about Millennials this, Millennials that!\"\n\nMuriel grunted as she tried to sit down in her own recliner, juxtaposed to her husband. \"It does seem to be the talk of late, huh?\" she said while checking her pure white curly perm. \"Why, Charlene was telling me that I should tell Sousanna to get out of the, uh... the... oh, shit...\"\n\n\"What about our daughter?\" Jerry said while sipping his lukewarm coffee from his old, chipped mug.\n\n\"Oh, they were saying to tell her to get out of that, um...\" Muriel seemed to be running into the ever present epidemic of the word being just on the tip of your tongue. \"The... the superhero police. Like the old tv show she used to watch. What was it called?\"\n\n\"The Coalition?\" Jerry said, looking up from his morning funnies.\n\n\"No, that's not what it was called! The tv show with the colorful jumpsuits and giant monsters. It was all-live and junk.\"\n\n\"The Coalition is what are daughter is in.\" Jerry clarified. \"Charlene told you to tell our daughter to leave the Coalition.\" He settled back into his funnies and tried to figure out the junior jumble.\n\n\"Oh yeah! That's right! Charlene and the gals said the the Coalition is apparently bad now because of the president!\" Muriel said with a shake of her head.\n\n\"That's ridiculous!\" Jerry said with a grunt, the hair on the back of his head standing up.\n\n\"That's what I said to her! I said, Charlene, I'm not telling no one to do anything they don't wanna do especially when it comes to my own daughter!\"\n\n\"Well, yeah! I mean, she's what-- 25 years old now? She's a damned adult! I ain't telling no grown-ass woman what to do with her life, even if it's my own flesh and blood!\" Jerry said setting aside the sunday funnies, thoroughly befuddled by the jumble. \"Secondly, the Coalition was designed not to serve the president! The Enhanced Coalition is devoted to the preservation of freedom and the constitution! It's ah...\" Jerry snapped his fingers, also forgetting the word he was looking for. \"It's one of them checks and balances! If the president becomes a corrupt dictator, the military has the right to remove him from office if he's unfit! That Charlene is talking straight out of her ass!\"\n\n\"My thoughts exactly Jerry,\" she said with a nod. \"She's got no right messing with the lives of the young and bold. We learned that when we were kids, right Jer?\"\n\n\"Damn straight. Millenials ain't killing no damn industry, and no amount of finger pointing's gonna be the cause for anything except anger, and thumb-twiddling!\" Jerry emphasized his point by gently rapping against his recliner.\n\nMuriel nodded sagely and paused for a moment. \"Is there anything good in the news?\" she asked while looking for the remote.\n\n\"Nothing but garbage!\" Jerry grunted while handing her the remote. Regardless, Muriel flicked on the television.\n\n((End of part one))\n\n((Part 2 [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8z6731/wp_millennials_are_killing_the_superhero_industry/e2gyvcn)))", "I plopped down onto the couch and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels ( who still used cable?) until I found a news station. \n\nIn local news, today marks the 57th birthday of Kelowna's resident superstar Prime, Impetus! A parade is being held downtown, where the blue bullet himself will be there! Bring your kids, and don't forget your sunscreen! Olly will tell you more on that! Afterwards, how are millennials killing the diamond industry?\n\nThe newscast cut to a disheveled looking man giving a weather report, and I turned the TV off with a small smile. Impetus was our hometown superstar, eventually going off to join the Legion. Hadn't been hard for him, with his endless charisma and good looks. Not to mention his marketability. The costume alone, a navy coloured suit, his recognisable orb lightning logo splayed across his chest had made him a hit with the toymakers. Even though it had been decades since he'd been in the game, he still probably sold more merchandise than any new heroes. Despite the Legions base of operations being in Houston, Impetus still made time to come down every evening to visit his hometown. Not a hard feat when you could break the sound barrier with about as much effort as most people put into jogging I suppose. While Impetus was our big name, Kelowna had produced a fair share of minor heroes and villains as well. I suppose this is where I come in. I go by Inertia, and I have the ability to transfer kinetic energy from one thing to another. Seemed pretty lame at first, but with a little creativity, you'd be surprised at the almost endless applications one can think of. There's more to me than my Prime identity though, unlike half of those golden age geezers (Impetus included). My real name is Adrian Cho, and I'm 21. I'm not looking for fame, or glory, or any of that garbage. What I am looking for is money. With powers like these, I'd assumed I could join one of the branches of the Legion, do some low work policing stuff and make a decent chunk of change. But just like anything else, being a Prime was not an easy task for people my age. You had to be a sidekick for a two years before you became a hero, and in order to become a sidekick you had to prove you were hero material. Paradoxical at best, and at worst, it meant I was unemployed. In the distance I hear a large crack. Sonic Boom. He's here. I quickly stand up an extend my hand, as Impetus rushes into his living room, his shoulder grazes my index finger, and I pull away all the kinetic energy, and he's left a motionless statue, his eyes growing in horror. \"Getting slower in your old age?\" I ask, a smirk making its way onto my face. \"Your time is over old man, has been for a long time. You need to let us get into the superhero business, but you just can't give it up, can you? Let some new blood in, shake it up a bit. Can't retire. Can't let any but yourselves have it. I mean Jesus, look at me. I'm monologuing!\". I see a small flicker of movement in his lips. His power is allowing him to regain his kinetic energy much faster than he should. He speaks out, his words coming through clenched teeth. \" You're fucking crazy? Do you know who I am? I'm part of the legion, you've made a hu-\"\n\n\"I know exactly who you are\"\n\nHis nostrils flare. \"Then you know you're dead for pulling this. Fucking kids.\"\n\n\"I don't think I am actually.\" I responded, a hint of humour lacing the words. \"You can't keep me like this forever\" he says, the malice in his voice almost venomous. \"I don't intend to at all Mr...? I trail off, but he doesn't respond, and like a rattlesnake, his fist shoots up and strikes me in the chin. The sheer force (or speed? With my powers the way they are, one would expect I'd have learned all about this, but I've had better things to do.) sends me through the air, and I land on the television, which shatters beneath my weight. His two arms raised, the rest of him immobile, the look in his eyes shows me he's confident now. \"I don't need to run when you can't touch me without me knocking your clock off son. Give up while you can\".\n\n\nI sigh, a long, drawn out dramatic exhalation and pull a coin out of my pocket. A flash of inspiration seems to strike Impetus, and he begins waving his hands in circles as fast as he can, creating a windfunnel that is slowly, but surely pushing me back. Enough games. I imbue the coin with the speed I took from the aging hero, and it whizzes through the funnel, seemingly unaffected, and goes continues straight through. The windfunnel suddenly stops, and Impetus, a small sole going directly through his skull, topples onto the floor. My phone buzzes, and I scroll through my texts, looking for the new one. \n\n\n\nGALLANT\n\nComplete\n\n\nVOID\n\n\n\nComplete\n\n\n\nREAVER\n\n\n\nComplete\n\n\nTSAR\n\n\n\n\nComplete\n\n\nINFINITE\n\n\n\nComplete\n\n\nIMPETUS\n\nFinding what I'm looking for, my thumbs click against the screen, and within a half second I hit the send button.\n\n\nComplete" ]	4
	[WP] ONE OF YOUR INTERDIMENSIONAL SELF FINDS YOU AND PROPOSES ROBBING AN INTERDIMENSIONAL BANK FOR AN ELIXIR OF IMMORTALITY. ONLY THING IS YOU YOURSELF KNOW THAT YOU ARE NOT TRUSTWORTHY.	[ "\"Doppelganger?...\" I say oddly in the door, with my eyebrow raised suspiciously. The figure standing there looked exactly like me... of course i already knew it was me.\n\n\"Good one,\" I hear my own voice say from the cloaked figure in front of me, pushing his way into my... or rather, our house. \"I have a proposition to make to you,\" he says sitting on the couch, putting his feet up on the table exactly as I knew I would have.\n\n\"A proposition, huh? I'm sure this'll be good.\" I sigh and grab the bottle of whiskey, already half empty, pouring another glass before glancing back at myself, his eyes never leaving the back of my head. I knew he was trying to read me, my state of mind. But I'm sure he knew it wouldn't work.\n\n\"There's an interdimensional bank, located right between my universe and yours. Inside of the vault is a huge, never ending expanse, and I have the perfect way to get in undetected. There's an elixer inside of this vault that grants the one who drinks it immortality. And I believe that if we both drink it, being the same person, we would both gain immortality since we'll be in the same universe.\"\n\nI stare at him for a moment and down the whiskey. I knew what he was going to try. We would both break in, he'd drink the elixer, try to leave me there, and return to his own dimension free of consequence and immortal to boot. I pour myself another glass of whiskey and smirk at myself. He probably already knows that I'm planning the same thing as him. But I've always won in chess, so a game against myself seemed like an interesting proposition.\n\n\"Alright, let's get to planning,\" I say handing myself a glass of whiskey and sitting down, still smirking at myself, almost like a mirror." ]	1
Yes, I made a stupid grammatical mistake in the title. Should be "You're"	[WP] Your best friend suddenly loses his/her memory. Your now the only person he/she trusts	[ "She was laying on a hospital bed. From her skin and mine, I knew she was cold. I wanted to help her get warm, but I had pestered the nurse enough and I wasn't completely sure that she was uncomfortable. Just another assumption of mine that would be met with uncertainty and disrespect, probably. \n\nShe began to stir. \n\nEyes flickered, and her head began to move next. her hair was more tangled than it had probably been in her whole life. Which is again another assumption on my part. I still don't know why my fat ugly ass is sitting here waiting. She won't want to see me. Even after what the doctor was saying, I don't imagine she could gleam any happiness from the half-memories of me. \n\nShe looked up at me. \n\n\"Where...\"\n\nHer voice was so hoarse. I couldn't think of what to say. I was having trouble finding eye contact even then. Looking down at the colder hospital floor, something inside of me jumped. I knew that there were eyes in the room looking for a trace of understanding, any trace of hope to a very confusing perspective. I had been there myself. Suddenly a part of myself, so eloquent, arose from a place I did not quite understand. \n\n\"We are in the hospital. Do you know who you are?\"\n\nA long silence. Coupled with thoughts of guilt. I was not qualified for this, and I was pretty sure I might have been doing something illegal. Pales in comparison though. \n\n\"S-sarah. My name is Sarah... Oh my god, Ted! What happened?\"\n\nShe remembered me. Why me? Why do these stars keep aligning to my beautiful demise? What hell-creature crafts this destruction of mine?\n\n\"Ted, why are we in the hospital?\"\n\nMemories came flashing back in a wave that dwarfed what I had been mulling over for days. I had to lie. I had to jump back in my crevice, this eel, this vile brain. I had to revert back to my ways. My brain was screaming this, but something stronger had taken control. a clarity, an undeniable weight lifted from my aching back. \n\n\"You were in a car accident. You lost some memory. Just take it easy and you should be back up and healthy in no time. What do you remember?\"\n\nAnother long pause\n\n\"I... I remember lunch, packing my bags with you. I remember you taking care of me. How do we know each other, Ted? \n\n\"I'm a friend from school. We hang out... sometimes. We've watched movies together. \n\nI shouldn't have said that. \n\n\"Oh Ted!\"\n\nWith a smile and an energy that couldn't have possibly been mustered from a coma victim, she lurched her body towards my chair and nearly knocked me off of my feet with a hug so grand and tear-jerking my cheeks were wet by the time her hands were locked behind my back. \n\nWe hugged for a minute straight, and then I pried her off of me. There were small tears in her eyes and on her cheeks also. I loved her. I knew it in the deepest regions of my heart and brain. I saw it in her. But I really shouldn't have told her about the movies.\n\n\"Are we not romantic anymore?\"\n\nThe question had caught me entirely off guard. We never had been romantic, but my little orchestra -- conducted from the uncomfortable hospital chair -- had reached a crescendo, and my evil subconscious had done its terrible bidding in only a few short whimsical comments. I was a terrible liar. I had no clue as to how I would ever pull it off to finality. It was still worth trying. \n\n\"Of course we are.\" I smiled. \"There's nothing I could do to split us up. I love you.\"\n\nWith a happiness I've only seen from camera lenses and billboards, I held her in my arms for the entire night. As nurses came and went, with checkups upon checkups, I didn't stop once to think of the monster I had become. I didn't stop holding her. We were so warm in each others arms. ", "\"Rita,\" I said impatiently over the phone. \"Mike is really your husband.\"\n\n\"I don't know, Richard. I am so scared. I don't know anything anymore.\"\n\n\"I get it. Listen, if you are so scared you don't have to do it. I am sure Michael will understand. You want me to talk to him for you?\"\n\n\"I don't know, Rich. Will you?\"\n\n\"Of course I will. You know I will. You want to stay over at my place for some time? You know, until things get sorted out.\"\n\n\"I...\" her voice faltered. \"I think so. Am I bothering you too much?\"\n\n\"Of course not. I will get back to you once I talk to Mike. Do not drive here on your own. I will ask him to drop you over here.\"\n\n----\n\n\"Mikey, he bought it.\"\n\n\"For real?\"\n\n\"Yup. He will be texting you any time now to ask you to drop me over at his place.\"\n\n\"Honey, you really want to go through with this?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You know what will happen?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And you are okay with it?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\n\"Richard,\" she said, transferring the pliers into her handbag. \"Nobody touches my daughter and gets away with it.\"\n\n----\n\nI think I took it too far off the intended concept, and sorry if you don't like this angle!\n", "“So, who was I!?”\n\nI try to decipher this whole situation. A joke? A prank of some sort? Surely that was the explanation.\n\n“Listen, Harlan, you were my partner. Are my partner. Remember all those projects!?”\n\nHe sniffles. I’m starting to think this isn’t just a stupid joke anymore.\n\n“I don’t, know. I just woke up...here...just feel so scared, so lost, so alone.”\n\nI can sense the legitimate panic in his voice. I had heard it hundreds of times throughout my career.\n\n“Naperville? Pompano Beach? Burbank? Norfolk? You don’t honestly remember!?”\n\n“No, no, no no no no no!”\n\nI’m starting to panic too. How were we going to pull off Omaha, if my partner suddenly had amnesia? It just wouldn’t work.\n\n“OK, buddy, just listen. I’m...whew...gonna be honest with you-“\n\n“Huh? Alex, what the hell!? Why are you calling me at three in the morning!?”\n\nMy heart rose, maybe it was just a stupid joke after all?\n\nI shouted into the phone. Damn him for scaring me like that.\n\n“You bullshitter! You called me and told me you had lost all your damn memory!”\n\nHe laughs uneasily.\n\n“I don’t remember.”\n\n“Omaha still on!?”\n\n“Of course, I’m on getaway this time. Damn it, Alex, just forget this ever fucking happened, ok?”\n\nI hung up. \n\nI soon immediately received another call.\n\n“Hello!? Alex, the fuck do you want now!?”\n\nThe other side is silent for a moment.\n\n“Who the fuck are you!? Where’s Cathy!? Where’s Cathy!? Where!?”\n\nA chill ran down my spine.\n\nCathy was our old getaway driver.\n\nAnd we had killed her five years ago." ]	3
	[WP] A website appears on the internet that predicts number of days until someone's death. People discover it is perfectly accurate down to the day. You decide to load the site, and it displays the number -27069.	[ "Some say that not knowing is better than knowing. After all, ignorance is bliss, right?\n\nMe? I’ve always wanted to know. If it’s going to rain, I’m packing the umbrella. If I’m going to be stuck on a red eye flight, I’m sure to bring the snacks and headphones that make it tolerable. I know, so I can prepare.\n\nVisiting dayofdeath.com was a no brainer for me. I thought if I knew the day I was going to exit this world, I could make the most of the time I had. I thought that if I had an accurate marker for that previously uncertain death pin on the timeline of my existence, it’d somehow make life simpler.\n\nIn hindsight, I should have joined ranks with the abstainers.\n\nI pulled up the site on my phone and there was a number. It read in plain text:\n\n-27069 days.\n\nBelow the number was an ad for Greek yogurt.\n\nThis couldn’t be right. I hadn’t entered my name, birthdate, any identifying information at all. I refreshed the page, and the only thing that changed was the ad was now for Krav Maga training. And what was the deal with a negative number?\n\nWith a little math, I arrived at the date of June 6th, 1944.\n\nThe day of death site had the reputation of being infallibly, hauntingly accurate. This made the date I received all the more unnerving.\n\nNo one had been able to track down the server hosting the site, but not for lack of looking. All traditional methods of tracing had lead to dead ends, in wildly different parts of the world. One team who called themselves Death Seekers wound up in a remote village in Asia, lacking any apparent internet access whatsoever.\n\nI tried to put the whole thing to the back of my mind. In the following days I went through the motions, but I couldn’t get my broken date of death out of my brain. \n\nI decided I needed to find the server myself.\n\nThis trial lasted forty years.\n\nStarting out I tried contributing to various group searches, but they all came up empty handed in the end, and their operations fizzled out. I began my own independent search. I met with countless IT specialists, conspiracy theorists and ISP’s.\n\nIn all my striving, all I found was that the location was truly impossibly well hidden.\n\nI decided to take a different tact. I suddenly felt a twinge of fright at the thought, but I had to explore the idea. \n\nI nervously typed my own name into Google, and the date that I was given by the prophetic domain.\n\nThere was a single result.\n\n‘Factory Fire Consumes Flour Mill’\n\nMy heart sank as I read about the tragic death of an individual with my own name, the only casualty of a horrific act of arson here in my own city back in 1944. The article said where the body was laid to rest. \n\nI had to see.\n\nI drove myself to the old cemetery, and slowly browsed the tombstones. All at once, there it was. My name was etched into a nondescript piece of rock with the dates 1920 - 1944.\n\nMy pulse quickened as I realized what I had to do.\n\nIt was already beginning to get dark, so I got to work. I began scraping at the grass with my hands. I didn’t get far before I went to locate a shovel from a nearby utility shed.\n\nShovel after shovel my heart grew louder. I could feel the dirt mixing with my sweat, and I could smell the old earth more and more as I dug deeper. \n\nA recent bit of rain had softened the ground, and it wasn’t long before I hit the coffin. Brushing off the top, I could tell that the wood was rotted and peeled away quite easily, even by hand.\n\nI ran my fingers along the edge of a middle board, and peeled it back hard.\n\nInside was a whithered and burned corpse, but what terrified me were the eyes. It had no hollow eye sockets, but wide, glistening pools. It stared into my eyes, and I stared back. The eyes began to spill as if weeping. The corpses eyes remained locked on mine as it’s jaw unhinged and let out a broken cry.\n\nLifting my shovel I sunk it into the corpses neck and severed its head. The head was silenced, and the eyes turned black.\n\nI heard the news the next day. Not only about the desecrated grave, but about dayofdeath.com \n\nThe site now simply read:\n\nThank you." ]	1
	[WP] The zombie apocalypse happens, and you fortify yourself in your previously prepared secluded bunker. A year later, your food supply runs out so you must venture outside. However, when you go outside, you realize the apocalypse was dealt with quickly and everything's been normal the whole time.	[ "Theodore spooned the last heap of beans from the last can in the bunker into his mouth with a sigh. Looking over to where his stockpile had been for his entire isolation, he grunted as he threw the can into the massive pile in the corner. It was time. Surely none of the zombies could have survived a full year. Everyone knew that they don't crave dead flesh, so as soon as they ran out of food, they would have started dying off. He tapped the light bulb in his underground kitchen as it flickered. Even the power was starting to run out. The creek that he set up the water-wheel generator in must have started to run dry. Steeling his resolve, he looked through his equipment, making sure he was prepared. Flashlight. Windup radio just in case there were survivors broadcasting. Two sets of clean clothes that he'd kept for the day. Extra strength sunblock. A tent for when he had to camp. And his trusty knife with a sparkstone on the back. He put it all in his military style backpack with a couple of bottles of water and slung it over his shoulder. Rubbing his hand along his thick, long red beard, he sighed again and spun the wheel to open the bunker door.\n\nThe darkness beyond greeted him like an old friend as he stepped out slowly. He picked up the machete he kept by the door and held it at the ready. With great care he walked towards his basement steps. They creaked the way he remembered. A tinge of nostalgia hit him as he ascended into his old house. The door clicked loudly, making him wince, as he turned the handle and opened it. Thanking his lucky stars he moved into the darkness of night and made his way towards the front door when something caught his eye. There was a flickering light coming from the living room. Curiousity got the better of him and he walked towards it. There, in the middle of the wall opposite him, was a huge TV that wasn't there before the zombie apocalypse. His eyebrow raised and he walked towards it. White noise covered its screen. Looking around in the low light, he noticed that the surrounding furniture wasn't what he had left.\n\nHad looters and squatters taken and replaced what he abandoned?\n\nSuddenly his worst fear was realised as he heard a groan from behind him and he spun, raising his machete with a scream, \"AAAAAAAGGH!\"\n\n\"AAAAAAAAGH!\" He was met with a scream in return as whatever it was stumbled back, \"WHAT THE FUCK, MAN!?\" Theodore stopped in his tracks. A survivor? The light for the room flicked on and he saw a young man, maybe in his late twenties, wearing spongebob pajamas.\n\nThe bearded hermit thrust the machete in front of him in a threatening way, \"Who are you and what are you doing in my house, squatter!?\"\n\n\"Squatter? The fuck are you talking about? I bought this house six months ago! What are you doing in MY house?!\" The man inched towards the closet next to the stairs and pulled out a baseball bat, holding it up aggressively. \"Who the fuck are you, you crazy bastard?!?\"\n\n\"Hmpf. You're obviously not a zombie...\" he put the blade away in its sheath on his belt, \"Name's Theodore. This here's my house. Has been for thirty years.\" He stepped back and sat on the back of the sofa, stroking his beard.\n\n\"Thirty ye...What? Wait, you were the previous owner? The real estate said this place was abandoned!\" With the threat lessened, the man lowered the bat, but kept a strong handle on it.\n\n\"What are you talking about, real estate? The world can't have recovered THAT quickly...?\"\n\n\"Recovered from wha-...ooooohhh, oh man. You're one of them, aren't you!? I was wondering what that weird wall was down in the basement!\" The man's expression went from fear and surprise to understanding. \"Duuuude. I feel sorry for you! That whole zombie apocalypse thing? Yeah, it was more of a minor zombie outbreak over in Arizona. Mainstream media made a much bigger deal out of it than it was. Only, like, 10 people actually got turned and only about 30 people died. Didn't take long for cops with riot gear to handle it peacefully. A whole year underground, huh? What was that like?\"\n\nTheodore looked dumbfounded at the man standing before him, leaning on the bat like nothing had happened in the world. The day he went underground, the TV, radio, and major online news were lit up with stories about zombie outbreaks, the zombie apocalypse, zombies zombies zombies! But to learn the truth... He had lost a year, and his home and assets, for nothing... His jaw dropped open as he struggled to find the words. \"I... I'm... I just...\" he slipped forward off of the back of the sofa and crumpled to the floor, \"My...my home. My dog. Oh god, my dog... But... But Hannity said... Jones said... apocalypse. Chemicals in the city water... Everyone doomed.\" His hands cupped his face as the reality of it hit him.\n\n\"Oh, you watched Fox? Well that explains it.\" Spongebob guy walked over and put his hand on the old man's shoulder, \"Dude, they're not news. They're entertainment. My wife and I watch Fox News when we want to laugh at the absurdity. Listen. How about you stay here tonight...maybe have a shower... And we'll see what we can do about things tomorrow.\"\n\n\"Ye-, yeah... Thank you, stranger.\"\n\n\"Name's Rick, friend. Rick Grimes.\"\n\n---\n\nHeh, that was kinda fun. Thanks for the prompt!\n\nMore stories at r/SamsStoriesSub", "Empty streets.\n\nMy childhood home, in the distance, obscured by fog. The lights are off, but for one, what was once my parents' room. I can almost make out the shadow.\n\nI walk towards it, like every other time I dream. Bare feet dig into damaged asphalt, bones crunching with every step. The journey takes an eternity and a second, all the misery of a brutal purgatory compressed into hazily remembered seconds. \n\n\"Where were you, Trevor? We were so worried!\"\n\n\"I wanted to walk, a - \"\n\n\"No, you can't do that, Trevor! You can't leave the house like that, not without your mother's or my permission!\"\n\nMy mother is silent, as always. Her face is only partly visible, the rest shadowed. \n\nI know what happens next. But I watch, I feel it, anyways. I always experience it, the pain fresh, wounds never healing.\n\nAnd then I wake up.\n\nGray ceiling. Then, gray walls, gray floor, as I slowly get out of bed. I am the only colour in this room- and, when I look in the mirror, I'm always a little unsure of how true that is.\n\nI mark off another day in the calendar. Four hundred, give or take. Over a year in this miserable bunker, hiding away. I miss the internet, television, music... sometimes, even other people.\n\nAnd I've begun to miss food, as well. The calendar tells me it's been three days that I haven't eaten. Long days. My stomach doesn't hurt quite so much, today. The hunger pangs reminiscent of my childhood have slowly faded, leaving only a terrible emptiness behind.\n\nThis is the last day, though. I decided so yesterday, in an epiphany, munching on the crumbs from last Monday's meal. If going out, leaving safety for the real world, means I die, then so be it.\n\nI make the necessary preparations. Two guns, one in the backpack, the other visible on my waist. A water bottle, a knife. \n\nThen I stand at the door.\n\nMy head throbs, like someone is staring at me, and I whip around. My backpack clangs against the metal door, but there's nobody there. Just imaginings. Just ghosts.\n\nI disconnect a bolt with a shaky hand. It's time. I'm leaving. I fumble for the doorknob. It turns with effort, and when I release it, my palm leaves behind a coating of sweat.\n\nThe stairs creak; the house, as far as I can tell, is empty. No shattered windows, no broken-down doors. Just a layer of dust coating everything.\n\nI go outside.\n\nIt's a lovely day. Children play in my neighbor's yard. One of them spots me, and shouts. A car is driving down the street, a new model, one I don't recognize. The couple from next door are walking along the sidewalk, holding hands, a ring on her finger that hadn't been there before.\n\nNo zombies. No desolation. No cracks in the pavement or cruel parents or alien invasions or harsh rebukes or houses reduced to rubble or painful discipline or destroyed, broken army vehicles. \n\nNo, perhaps the only thing broken here is me.\n\n^^^^r/forricide", "Day 1473\n\nIt’s been a little over four years now. I had supplies for 4 years and I’ve managed to stretch them a little bit. Four years of safety in this bunker. Four years of hope that someone would rescue me and this outbreak would be over. No one has come to my side. I fear the worst, as I always have. I built an impenetrable bunker with a 4 year supply of canned beans, after all. Today, I will go out for the first time since Day 0. \n\nIn preparation for this moment, I ate three cans of beans. The past four years I only ate one each day, but it was always my plan to eat the last three in one go. I might need the energy. I have a make shift bat/saw fashioned out of the one chair in the bunker. I suppose I could use this to hack zombies, but I’ve never interacted with one so I can’t be sure. \n\nI have two main wishes:\n\n1. The zombies don’t find me and I am able to find food and supplies. \n\n2. I find a capable survivor group willing to take me in. \n\nThere are a lot of risks involved, but I’m at the end of the road. \n\nHere goes nothing.\n\n———————\n\nI set down the journal and closed my eyes. I was worried. Worried there would be zombies waiting right outside my bunker opening, worried there would be no more food left, worried that my eyes wouldn’t adjust to the sunlight. \n\nI glanced back at the journal, the one thing that has kept me sane all these years. I logged the most mundane things. I picked up my bat, reminiscing. \n\nThere was one day that a cockroach had managed to sneak into the bunker. I was terrified that there was a hole that zombies would be able to sneak through to kill me. I didn’t sleep that night. The cockroach would probably be the most eventful thing.\n\nThere was the day I got terribly sick. I threw up in the corner of the room, it smelled for days.\n\nThere was the day I heard footsteps walking over the bunker. Shuffling. That was such a long time ago though... \n\nI surveyed the bunker one last time. A single table, with the journal on it and a backpack. Several shelves, all empty. A massive pile of bean cans towering on one side of the wall. An unmade bed. A small generator under the bed powered the one light. \n\nThe ladder, against the wall covered in bean cans. \n\nI grabbed the backpack. \n\nFlashlight, compass, sleeping bag, matches, watch. That’s it. The only useful things I was able to grab before I hid. I remember seeing them shuffle outside my home, the fear, the screams. \n\nI shuddered. I cursed myself for weeks afterwards for forgetting about a radio or even a simple phone. \n\n7:05 in the morning now. I planned at leaving on 7. \n\nI quickly pushed away the cans of beans and began climbing up the now rested metal ladder that is set into the ground of the bunker. \n\nI ascended the few rungs, arriving at the hatch. I pulled back several latches and locks which creaked and protested all movement. \n\nFinally, the hatch swung open and I breathed in fresh air. \n\n—————————\n\nNo time was wasted on the simple beauty of the trees in the forest or the way the sunlight streamed through leaves or wind or fresh air or dirt or wispy cirrus clouds. \n\nThe bunker was located 4 miles away from a main road, so I started in that direction. I had planned this day for months, and I knew I wanted to travel northeast, hoping to find signs of civilization. As I moved to the road, my first problem emerged. \n\nI was out of shape. \n\nI watched my figure the whole time, but no amount of push-ups or jumping jacks could prepare you for moving 4 miles.... and 4 miles was nothing compared to the distance that I hoped to travel. \n\nStruggling, I started heading toward the main road when I heard... sounds. \n\nNot footsteps, or moaning, or gunshots. I heard cars. Tired moving across pavement at a pace. Excited to find a survivor group now, I ran over to the road. Cars zoomed in both directions. Many, many, many cars. \n\nWhile the feeling of being safe was elating, the implication was almost too real. How long had I been unnecessarily waiting in that bunker? And how did they stop the zombie outbreak, which had no signs of slowing? \n\nA police car moved along the highway in the lane closest to me and I waved my hands to signal for help. \n\nThe car slowly pulled over and a uniformed man stepped out. He was middle-aged with graying hair and a kind face. \n\n“What’s the matter sir?” The Officer asked slowly and concernedly. \n\nI stared, stuttered. I coughed, my throat was so hoarse from disuse. \n\n“When did.... the apocalypse end?” I croaked. “I’ve been in a bunker...”\n\nThe officers eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That’s incredible!”\n\nHe sized me up, shaking his head slowly and muttering to himself. \n\n“Son,” the officer finally began, “the apocalypse never actually ended.”\n\nWith that said, the police officer threw himself onto my body, biting my flesh and tearing at my skin. \n\n———————————\n\nI awoke the next day in the hospital, undead.\n\n\n\nIf you enjoyed, follow and check out my profile for more stories! :D" ]	3
	[WP] An ancient god of death and destruction awakes to begin the apocalypse. However they discover that humanity is on the verge of wiping out all life on earth. The ancient evil must now race against the clock to save humanity and the world so that annihilation can begin correctly.	[ "“My Awakening.”\n\nI became aware of my surroundings. I venture out of the Void which I had slumbered on for an immeasurable time. I was aware of my existence, my inherence. I knew that I Was, and that I Am. I carefully studied the enclosed chamber in which my Awakening had taken place, the knotted ropes that lined the walls, the ritualistic markings on the various decorated statues. I myself was shackled, yet now that I was aware of my existence, my approach out of the Void, I could break them with ease.\n\nI had immense knowledge on the Earth, on its denizens, on the long history and intertwined fate of this world. I was carefully educated on everything about the planet I was made to destroy, made to reset. Yet in the Void I was never this aware, never this...whole. It was immensely powerful, immensely beautiful. Now, I must ensure that humanity has all its affairs in order. The World Must Rejoice, before Cataclysm resets the clock. I pulse energy from my wrists, shattering the chains that bind me. I slowly unfurl my wings, raise my cowl. My tail slowly unravels, as my True Form begins to take hold. As fast as I had become Aware, I phase through the wall of my Cradle, and fly up to the surface of the world.\n\nI study the land. It is scarred, and once again the Awareness takes ahold of me. This is war, chaos, despair. I see no sanctuaries, I see only disrespect to life, disrespect to the Bacab, and I feel disappointed. So much had I understood about humanity’s creations, their triumphs, their perseverance. I see now the fruit of paltry warmongering, of strife and discord that takes root deep within the soul, and causes brother to turn on brother, sister to slaughter sister. \n\nI survey. Ruined halls, broken structures. Bloodstained paths, bloated corpses. When I finally find a living soul, I reach out to touch her and realize that she, a mere child, has seen things that no being deserves to see, the deaths of so many, the mutilation of a race. All of this is the mutilation of a species, the ruin of an organism. It is tainted, and I pull back my hand. I fly to the only structure I can find, an old temple, still left standing by some miracle of fate. It is intact, though bloody and marred are the pillars, and rusty are the old bells. I come to halt, and slowly fly to the ground, furling my wings.\n\nI raise my cowl, and realize that I cannot undo any of this. No, humanity must get its affairs in order, the world must become pure before the cycle repeats. Cataclysm is not a violent and impure process, but a beautiful and peaceful slumber, so that the denizens of Earth may pass into the realm of Huracán. This will not do, this should not be. Someone must Purify this unclean Earth before I can undo it, before Cataclysm begins.\n\nAt that point I see a singular man walking towards me. In his hands he holds an orb, and as he approaches I see that it is a Soul. The Soul of the World, perhaps. I entreat with him, and he speaks.\n\n“Mictlāntēcutli, it has been epochs since your last Awakening. I see that regardless of your awareness, you are shocked by what you see?”\n\nI nod.\n\n“Then listen, Mictlāntēcutli. You must Purify this world, and I shall aid you. I cannot do it, but a human child, who carries all the memories of humanity, may be able to aid you.”\n\nI speak, in the Olden Tongue.\n\n“Where is this Savior? Is he the one to Purify this Earth? Will he prepare humanity for the Reset?”\n\n“Yes. Right now he prepares in a dimension separate from any you have seen. The Bacab-and has taken this child to a sanctuary, for he was claimed by its horrors at an early age.”\n\nI feel, strange. Empty, full of regret, disgust, and disappointment. But there is the slightest glimmer of hope. An undying child, a martyr, who carries the weight humanity’s heavy souls. A light at the end of a long tunnel.\n\nI reach out my hand.\n\n“Take me to him.”" ]	1
	[WP] Everyone dies by what they fear most. Yet death is unsure about you. Your greatest fear is staying alive.	[ "Death: Jack... We've been playing hangman for the past 3 years. I think its time that we change what game we decide to play. How about Checkers or Crokinole? Those could be fun.\n\nJack: I'm sorry death. But, how can you keep saying that we should be playing different games when I'M TRYING TO DO YOUR JOB FOR YOU. I'VE LITERALLY HUNG MYSELF 365,520,062 times already playing this stupid game.\n\nDeath: I'm... Sorry jack. My vocabulary is just so small that I can't possibly win. I'm sorry for making you feel bad.\n\nJack: I know. I know. Let me just calm down and grab a drink of water.\n\nDeath: Yeah, that might be good.\n\nJack grabs a glass of water from the floating refrigerator behind death\n\nJack: Death. I've never told you this, but my greatest fear is... My greatest fear is...\n\nDeath walks up Jack and softly puts his hand on his left shoulder\n\nDeath: Jack, I know what your greatest fear is; it's staying alive. You don't have to worry about staying alive anymore. We've been together for three years. You have come with me and seen how I do my work. It's a messy job.\n\nJack: I just... I just don't wann\n\nDeath: Shhhh. Sh... sh.. shhhhhh. It's ok, Jack. Everything is going to be alright. Breathe in. Breathe out.\n\nJack: Breathe in. Breathe out. \n\nDeath: Breathe in. Breathe out.\n\nJack: Breathe in. Breathe out. Hey, you know that's not bad! You're a pretty good guy.... wait. What you making try to do? Hurls up blood\n\nDeath: Breathe in. Breathe out.\n\nJack: Breathe in AUDHGUH-KAHCKUGAH-UGHO. Breathe ou....\n\nDeath: Jack. You forgot to breathe out.", "I crave being on the edge.\n\nThe mixture of pain and pleasure provides blurred lines. There is no telling when I’d live, when I’d die, and soon the pain became too much, too soon. I wished for death, I wished to be dragged into the depths, by the bony hand of the Grim Reaper. I tried, and I tried. I stabbed myself with ritual daggers, tested to limits of human pain, the limits of mental strength. Yet I hung on, like a pit viper, to life, for I feared nothing but life itself.\n\nThe Grim Reaper never came to see me, for he had no way to kill me but to do wat I fear the most. He made me immortal, everlasting. I am cursed to walk the Earth, watching things wither and die, and my obsession with pain entails that without that concoction of pure agony and sweet bliss, I am unable to function, to even wander.\n\nI am an addict, my vice is pain.\n\nMy addiction shall never subside, for the one thing my addiction helps me ignore - my life - will last forever.", "“Do it.” \n\nMy words are cold and level as I stare down the barrel of the mugger’s Glock 17. She looks almost startled at my composure, breath producing turbulent clouds in the evening air. Her hands almost seem to shake. \n\n“Are you a goddamn coward,” I snarl, stepping forward, “or just stupid?” Hands in my hoodie’s pockets, I advance. \n\n“Don’t - don’t make me...what’re you doing? I-I’ll shoot! Just give me your cash and you, hah, y-you can get on with your life!”\n\nThe walls of the alley loom over us, insulating our little pocket of tension. It’s here. It’s finally here. My chance to die. I’ll be damned if I’m going to pass this up - I’m too complacent for suicide and too indifferent to seek death actively, so this mugging is nothing short of ideal. Life has lost its luster for me. Reluctant or not, I’m going to get that woman to pull the trigger. I lunge forward, grab the barrel and pin it to my forehead. \n\n“DO IT!”\n\nThe sudden movement must’ve been enough to force her hand, because I hear a click and then my head explodes. Everything is impact and heat and shock as I reel backwards and fall into the earth, out of my mind, out of my body and into blackness. I can’t think. I can’t breathe. I feel...wrong. I feel nothing. \n\nThen everything comes back. I sit up slowly, taking in my surroundings. I’m still in the alley, but my wallet isn’t on me. The ground is red and...something is strewn across the pavement. \n\n“You were a tricky one, you know,” echoes a voice as soft as a whisper yet as pervasive as a scream. \n\n“I get that a lot,” I grumble, rubbing the side of my head. My hair is cold and wet. \n\n“My name is Eamon,” it continues, and a figure quite literally materializes in front of me. It’s a male, slight in stature with clean-cut red hair and a cleaner-cut black suit. \n\n“Hi, Eamon,” I reply in a sing-song tone, “I’m Shaun. And - wait a minute, this isn’t an AA meeting. Where are we?”\n\nThe ethereal twink looks unenthused; it appears that he doesn’t much care for my sarcasm. \n\n“I’m a Reaper,” he manages to say, “and I’m here because you’re dead. But this, you see, should have been impossible. In this world, a human being can only be killed-”\n\n“By that which they fear in life, I know. Weird, isn’t it? That the only thing I was scared of was the sun rising on another morning, yet here we are? Pretty sure those nasty bits on the ground over there used to be part of my brain, so I’d say I got what I wanted. Suck it.”\n\n“Actually, that’s what I’m here to speak to you about. Yes, you’re dead. But you’re not done with life yet.”\n\n“Excuse me?”\n\n“You see, Shaun, ‘life’ is an umbrella term. I couldn’t claim your soul while you were biologically alive, but now you’re not. I’ve already bound your essence to my own.”\n\n“Cool. Great. What’s next?”\n\n“Look around you. What do you see?”\n\nI heave myself to my knees and scope out my location. The setting is visibly identical to the alleyway I was shot in, though I assume it must be some sort of parallel space on another plane. The ground is slick and scarlet with what I can only assume is my blood and viscera. The blood has soaked its way into my back and crusted on the sleeves of my grey hoodie, a swath of saturated darkness against the light fabric. Nasty. \n\n“It’s the alley I died in. So?”\n\n“It is.”\n\n“But...it’s not the actual, physical alley-”\n\n“You’re wrong.”\n\n“What?”\n\n“You’re wrong. Your soul is mine, but I’ve taken the liberty of restoring functionality to your mind and body.”\n\n“But I...ahhh...I...”\n\nReluctantly, I reach up to my forehead. A gentle press and my finger sinks directly into the middle. Shaking, I withdraw my fingertip and reach for the back of my skull. Problem is, it isn’t there. \n\n“What the...what the fuck? How am I-”\n\nMy bloodied hand flies to my throat. I check for a pulse, reposition my hand, and check again. Nothing. \n\n“Eamon?” I cry out, voice shaking. I can’t feel the pain. I can’t even feel fear properly. There’s no racing heartbeat, no sweaty palms or erratic breaths. I can’t feel anything, and the specter is gone. \n\n“EAMON!”\n\n“I did it,” his voice echoes, bodiless. “Didn’t I?”\n\n“Please...no.”\n\n“Life was never what you feared most. You feared existence.”\n\nThe walls of the alley loom over me like giants forever barring the path to the heavens. I feel like I should cry. I feel like I should scream, but I can’t muster the will. I can’t feel enough to do so. \n\n“This was the only way.”\n\nI stumble to my feet as the voice of the Reaper fades out for the last time. My body and mind are utterly numb. My soul, for all I know, is gone. I’ve accepted that my life is over, but only now has it begun to set in that I will never truly die. \n\nWith trembling fingers, I pull my hood up over what’s left of my head and begin to walk. \n", "I knew from the moment I was born, it was a mistake. I was the greatest assassin known to man - not by choice, by force.\n\nI was trained in the Sun king's army to kill. To kill without a second thought, without a moment's hesitation. \n\nIt was kill, or be killed. \n\nAs the years passed, the masters thought they had molded me into a killing machine. And they were right. \n\nBut what they did not know is that I wanted to die more than anyone on this Earth. If it wasn't written that my family would be murdered one by one if I took my own life, I would have been at rest many moons ago.\n\nOne day, Death came to visit me. Usually, when Death knocks on one's door, it does not leave empty handed. \n\nBut Death looked at me, and returned the way it came. \n\nEmpty handed." ]	4
	[WP] Your grandfather left you his house, the place where he lived, and died. His house, filled to the brim with peculiar items, foggy memories, maybe the answer as to why he hasn't said a word to anyone in the past 10 years, even you, his best friend, or even the answer as to how he died.	[ "Make no mistake, I leave behind no gifts.\n\nThe foreboding words of his grandfather's will ran once more through Christopher's mind as he traced a curious finger across the dusty mantlepiece of his newly inherited home. The structure had the look of wood but the cool hardness of stone. Petrified wood, perhaps? It might very well be; there were all sorts of oddities in this house. In fact, so many of the items here were just slightly unusual enough to give outsiders a sense of unease.\n\nThat's what Christopher felt he was here: an outsider. The last time he had seen his grandfather alive was when he was little more than ten years old. Even the old wedding photographs that hung on the wall, showing a stern-faced man whom Christopher was the spitting image of, were not enough to make him feel that he belonged. He had forgotten all but a few memories of the man who owned this house and so he felt now that he was intruding on the home of a stranger.\n\nOk, maybe not a complete stranger, actually, he thought as his wandering hand grasped a familiar coin purse. The red satin pouch was worn but still mostly intact, though there were several small and poorly patched holes along the seem that held it to the metal clasp. Christopher opened the clutch to find the small collection of foreign coins he had gifted to his grandfather. Even after they had lost touch, Christopher had continued to mail them to his P.O. box dutifully every time he returned from an international trip even though he never received any confirmation that his grandfather appreciated them. Here, at last, was his confirmation; the coin purse had been perched against the base of a reading lamp on the desk in his grandfather's study--a position in which his grandfather would have spent much of his time with it in his view, judging from the amount of books and notebooks piled precariously along the desk's edges.\n\nChristopher gingerly replaced the purse and turned his attention to exploring the unusual device perched atop a nearby cabinet. The machine looked similar to an old television set or, rather, it looked like what someone who lived in the time of those old television sets might imagine a futuristic television would look like. It was small, roughly 6 inches tall and 8 inches wide with a depth of about 4 inches, and a rectangular screen with rounded edges took up most of its forward face. To the left of the screen was a metallic mesh, that Christopher figured must be the speaker, and to the right was a single metal button accompanied by a larger dial of the same or a similar metal placed just below it. \n\nWhere this contraption diverged most noticeably from the scheme of an outdated television was in its transparent casing that--to Christopher's surprise as he examined it--did not seem to be glass or plastic but rather some type of crystal. Where there would have been nailed in or welded panels on a normal TV set, this device had no indications of such a joining of materials. Indeed, it seemed that the casing was carved, with extreme precision, out of a single crystal. The only point at which there was a break was in the center of top where two antennae penetrated through the crystal to reach skywards. The corners of the top of the device where rounded off and the edged between them and those that connected them to the four bottom corners were similarly beveled while the edges at the bottom where left sharp, likely for stability.\n\nThrough the casing, Christopher could see what looked like a spiky ball but with each spike being comprised of a crystal of varying opacity and color. The device was not plugged in and Christopher could see no obvious sign of a battery. Deciding impulsively to switch it on, he pressed down on the unmarked button that he believed would power the machine. With an uncanny smoothness, the crystal ball started to whir around its center, spinning every which way. The screen flickered capriciously, captivating Christopher's attention, and allowing one of the antennae to quickly dart out and pinch his arm while he was distracted.\n\n\"Hey!\" Christopher yelped in surprise, as if the thing could be shamed into apologizing by his indignation.\n\n\"Sample recognized, system access is granted. Welcome, Theodore,\" responded an androgynous computerized as the words it spoke appeared in white on the screen's gray background.\n\nTheodore? That was Christopher's grandfather's name, and this device had belonged to him so it made perfect sense that the machine should be set to his name. Why, then, did Christopher feel so uneasy?\n\nHe had barely finished asking himself this question when he grasped its answer. Sample recognized. The little metal arm that had pinched him must have done so to gather a tissue sample and the machine then interpreted this sample to belong to Theodore. Had the thing been fooled by his close genetic relation to Theodore? Maybe, but Christopher did not believe that such a fantastical device could be tricked so easily.\n\nThere were questions now that gnawed deeply into Christopher's heart and he felt a pull to search for answers that was impossible to deny. He would start with looking for information in Theodore's notebooks, he decided. But he would move the desk a bit further from the little TV before he did so. He was still a bit suspicious it might try to bite him again." ]	1
	[WP]Billionaires pledge all their money to charity when they die. But with the accelerating pace of medical technology, their lifespans keep increasing.	[ "\"Ms. Warton,\" the doctor repeated, calling me back to reality. I turned to him, his blue eyes bright and warm as he looked over my thick medical file. \"You're in excellent health, Ms. Warton. Keep it up and I wouldn't be surprised if you make it to 200. Amazing, really, how you've taken care of your health. I've never seen anything like it.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Doctor,\" I acknowledged as I slowly slid my legs off of the table and onto the floor. As I did, the blue paper gown rose up slightly, exposing blue-ish purple veins under a map of sagging wrinkles. The doctor looked away, not sure he was supposed to see the legs of one of the world's oldest, richest billionaire's.\n\nI dressed slowly, wincing slightly as my perpetually stiff arms pulled the simple black dress over my head. Adjusting my lipstick, I tried not to let the wrinkles by my eyes or the pox scars on my lower chin take up too much of my attention. The release of OnePortal was tomorrow and there were still many last-minute things to see to.\n\nBill drove carefully, as always. From behind tinted windows I could see the telltale signs of poverty encroaching closer and closer to The Hills. There were shoeless children carrying buckets of water, even though it was a Tuesday morning. A heap of rags and cardboard leaned up against a mailbox and it was impossible to distinguish whether it was trash or a human. Everything was covered in a layer of dust.\n\n\"Ready for the launch tomorrow, Ms. Warton?\" Bill asked, calm as ever.\n\n\"Yes,\" I replied. Always affirm, and never with an interjection afterwards, my father had taught me.\n\n\"The people from CareBoard are going to be there,\" Bill said, neutrally. \"They called today asking to get pictures with you for posterity's sake. You've pledged quite a lot of money to them.\"\n\n\"I've pledged all my money to them,\" I corrected him. \"Have Alexandra put it on my schedule.\"\n\n\"Yes, Ms. Warton,\" Bill acknowledged. The drive continued in silence.\n\nThe office was buzzing as I entered. Interns, in clothes they couldn't afford and the hope of permanent employment hiding behind their eyes, dashed around, carrying vials and boxes and vases. The lobby was in a state of transformation into blacks, silvers, and coppers for the launch tomorrow.\n\n\"Ms. Warton--\" Alexandra appeared out of nowhere, her heels clacking as we walked towards my office. A slight speck of mud on her heel betrayed the dust and muck she'd walked through to get to work today. \"The Times called and --\"\n\nI waved my hand and she changed topics.\n\n\"Valentina wants to discuss the OnePor---\" she tried again.\n\nI shook my head and turned left, making my way to an elevator bank in the corner.\n\nAlexandra looked at me, her brown eyes narrowing. I expect she wondered what the doctor had told me, thinking that perhaps I'd finally gone insane.\n\n\"You have a meeting in four minutes with Henry Johnson,\" she reminded me. \"It's very important. He's a key investor.\"\n\n\"Henry will wait, I've known him a long time,\" I said firmly. The elevator arrived without a sound and I slipped in, turning to face her. \"I have some business in R & D to attend to.\"\n\nAlexandra smiled slightly as the doors closed and I let out a breath, drinking in a brief moment of privacy. \n\nDownstairs, the hallways were lit by fluorescents, making everything appear pale and washed out. I passed labs of developers arguing over storage design and artists joking about icon styling. I kept walking, turning left and right, making my way down and back.\n\nI knocked twice before entering, alerting the researchers to my visit. Georgia hurried to greet me, wearing scrubs and a mask.\n\n\"Is everything okay, Ms. Warton?\" she asked, concerned. She was the motherly type, plump and smelling of grilled cheese. Her appearance didn't phase me, though- she was wickedly smart and had found the longevity breakthrough.\n\n\"Are we on schedule?\" I asked, getting straight to the point.\n\nBehind her mask, Georgia smiled. She nodded, her ponytail bobbing.\n\n\"Yes, Ms. Warton,\" she replied. \"We should have production finalized by the end of the month. The suppliers are contracted and the staff can make the pills in fourteen hours.\"\n\n\"Good,\" I said. \"Small batch, only. I control the quantity produced and no one else. You will, of course, come in to work and be paid even if there's no production occurring.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Ms. Warton,\" Georgia said, dipping her head. In this day and age, I was the closest thing anyone had to stable employment.\n\nMy heart beat faster as I took the elevator back to my office. Longevity would be mine, and mine alone. I would soon be able to control who lived and who died. A world of possibilities opened up.\n\nHenry Johnson waited in my office, his grizzled face staring at the once magnificent view from the windows.\n\n\"Shame, isn't it?\" he asked, motioning to the dust and decay of the city.\n\n\"Truly terrible,\" I said, emotionless.\n\n\"It's why I've come,\" he said, turning towards me. \"I've got a proposition for you.\"\n\n\"Not like that one so many years ago, I hope,\" I replied, letting out a true chuckle.\n\nHe smiled, remembering when we had been each other's worlds. Now, the world was ours, except for each other.\n\n\"No, not like that.\" He paused a second, weighing the costs of investment and morals, before his offer. \"People will pay anything for water,\" he said, \"And I've found us a river for sale.\"\n\n\"How much?\" I asked, already reaching for my checkbook. Henry raised his eyebrows.\n\n\"Didn't think you'd go for that so quickly, what with the CareoBoard pledge for charity and everything,\" he said, mildly.\n\nI smiled, a deep, chilling smile that spoke to visions of grandeur, riches, and a long life away from the muck that had grown deep underfoot.\n\n\"They'll get the money when I die,\" I said. \"And that may be a long, long time away.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Triangle pop tarts for the vertex of land. The poetic azimuth bears toward the crimson liar. But the yellow king knows we are bicycles.	[ "´´Triangle pop tarts for the vertex of land. The poetic azimuth bears toward the crimson liar. But the yellow king knows we are bicycles.´´\n\nEvan looked at him questioningly. ´´We are bicycles?´´\n\nThe man looked at him, his eyes full of relief. ´´Yes, yes! The yellow king knows this.´´\n\n´´And there's a liar?´´\n\nHis eyes widened further in excitement. ´´Yes! The crimson liar! Very dangerous. Watch out for the crimson liar!´´\n\nEvan looked confused. ´´But...what's an azimuth?´´\n\nThe man shook his head in annoyance. ´´Isn´t it obvious? It points towards the liar!´´ \n\n´´Riiiiight.´´Evan had lost track. He shrugged. ´´At least there will be poptarts.´´\n\nThe man gave him a warm smile. ´´Yeah baby, of course. As many as you like.´´ \n\nEvan was startled by the sound of the door opening behind him. ´´Come on baby, time's up. Visiting hour's over.´´\n\nEvan looked at her reluctantly. ´´Do we have to go now, mom?´´\n\nLisa put her arm around him and gave him a warm smile. ´´I know it's hard, baby. But we have to go now. Next saturday you can see him again.´´ \n\n´´Why can´t daddy just go with us? He can live with us, right? He will have a home! Not just a white room. And there won´t be any nurses or doctors, it would just be the three of us!´´\n\nLisa held back her tears and tightened her grip. ´´Someday, baby. Someday you'll understand.´´" ]	1
	[WP] You're the project overseer for the first great construct of the United Earth Humans. With an impressive portfolio of battleships, battlecruisers, carriers, frigates, and two capital ships, you're more than capable, however the project is plagued by problems.	[ "\"Report,\" Overseer Krait said.\n\nThe overseer had the luxury of sitting at his desk while the least popular technician on the flagship had to stand. Krait had no idea why this technician was the least popular, but he knew it was so: Nobody else would have been assigned to give this briefing.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" the technician, whose nameplate declared him to be named 'Flatters', said. At least, Krait hoped it was a name and not a job description. He didn't need ass-kissing, he needed to know what the hell was happening to the fleet.\n\nFlatters stammered and said nothing.\n\n\"Well?\" Krait said. Was it truly that bad?\n\n\"Right, right,\" Flatters seemed to gather his courage. \"UES Musketeer is derelict, sir.\"\n\nKrait nodded, having expected the news. \"I see. I appreciate you front-loading the bad news.\"\n\nFlatters, if anything, seemed to grow more agitated rather than less. \"Sir, I... I wasn't.\"\n\nKrait just sat silently.\n\n\"The hull flaw in Musketeer isn't unique to her, sir,\" Flatters continued. \"It's the metal used, rather than a construction fault. Cosmic radiation softens it and leads to the sort of explosive blowout that crippled Musketeer. The good news-\" Flatters added this almost desperately, \"is that we can detect this now, the rest of the cruisers will have ample time to evacuate.\"\n\nKrait's eyes narrowed. \"The rest of the cruisers? How many ships are affected by this?\"\n\n\"Only cruiser-class ships, sir. Attack cruisers like Musketeer. Also the heavy cruisers. And the light cruisers.\"\n\n\"That's all the cruisers,\" Krait pointed out.\n\n\"Ah, no, sir, there's still the logistics cruiser UES Hampton.\" Flatters said.\n\n\"Hampton is a freighter that we're calling a cruiser because we can't pressurize its hold so the only thing we can put in it are missiles.\" Krait said.\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" Flatters agreed.\n\n\"Well,\" Krait said, \"have the crews evacuate to one of the battleships; UES Seminole should have the extra room after all the people there requested to be transferred off. The smell's annoying, but not fatal.\"\n\n\"The medics are actually not entirely certain on that last point, sir,\" Flatters began, but stopped when he saw Krait's look. \"Ah, but that does bring me to my next point.\"\n\n\"There's more!?\" Krait had already begun to think of the paperwork he was going to have to do. While he welcomed the diversion, it could only mean even more paperwork.\n\n\"Yes, sir. Seminole is not hyperspace-worthy, the resonances have built up faster than projected.\" Flatters said. \"She'll be able to enter hyperspace, but won't be able to exit until she runs out of power.\"\n\n\"How long will that take?\" Krait asked.\n\n\"Approximately four thousand years,\" Flatters said. \"The fusion plants are quite long-lived.\"\n\n\"Of course, the one thing that hasn't gone wrong yet.\" Krait grumbled. He glanced at Flatters, who looked nervous. \"They have, haven't they? Something's wrong with the reactors.\"\n\n\"They'll still last four thousand years, but the people working near them will last approximately three thousand, nine hundred and ninety four fewer years. The radiation shielding has a similar metallic defect to the cruisers, it seems,\" Flatters said.\n\nWas there any class of ship in the fleet that worked? Krait shook his head, the idea occurring to him suddenly that it was entirely possible that there was not. \"What about our frigates?\" he asked.\n\n\"There are no frigates, sir,\" Flatters pointed out.\n\n\"What do you mean, no frigates!?\" Krait was trying to refrain from shouting, not entirely sucessfully. \"The orders I have in front of me clearly state that we should have thirty!\"\n\nFlatters stood his ground, though only barely. \"Yes, sir, that should be the case, but late overruns in production meant that we could only make the one, and then we turned it into a cruiser.\"\n\n\"What about the battlecruisers?\" Krait asked.\n\n\"Cumulative floating point errors in their navigation software mean they're currently a few light years away.\" Flatters said. \"But there's a patch for that due any day now!\"\n\n\"Our carriers?\"\n\nFlatters looked at his notes. \"In surprisingly good condition, it seems. Though they're not able to actually launch their fighters, as the launch tubes were installed backwards.\"\n\n\"Backwards?\" Krait said, \"How do you install a tube backwards!?\"\n\n\"I don't know, sir, but the carrier captains are unanimous in their declaration that trying to launch a fighter out into space would instead catapult it directly into the flight deck.\"\n\nKrait had his eyes closed, but he knew he had to ask about one more ship. \"And what about this ship? The ship both you and I are relying on to keep us alive? How doomed are we, exactly?\"\n\nFlatters perked up, relieved to finally deliver some good news: \"Oh, sir, Petersberg is in perfect shape, sir! We share none of the defects of the other ships.\"\n\nKrait just sighed, though he was relieved himself. \"At least there's that. Well, Flatters, you've survived the briefing, which apparently was a much closer thing than you'd think it would be in this fleet. I've got to get started on a much longer report to the beancounters back home. Do me a favor on your way out and get me some coffee, I'm going to need it.\"\n\nFlatters, having been given the slightest indication that he could leave, was already in the midst of doing so but froze at the last command. \"Sir?\"\n\nKrait waved the question aside, \"Just plain black coffee, nothing fancy.\"\n\nFlatters, once again as nervous as ever, buried his gaze in his notes, \"Well, sir, it's just that the beverage plant that was to be included on all Petersberg-class vessels is prone to mold outbreaks and has constantly been under maintenance.\"\n\nKrait looked up tiredly. \"There's no coffee?\"\n\n\"No sir.\"\n\nThat, then, was that. \"I'm scrapping this entire project.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Im the middle of a hot summer day, you see a dehydrated frog and immediately decide to give it some cold water. Unknown to you, the frog pledges a life debt to you. At your darkest hour, he arrives.	[ "“Please don’t do this..” you plead to the gun man. \n\nBut, already, his mind is already made up. The gunman steadies the gun and as he does so, you see a small, green figure jumping quick through the alley, getting behind the gunman. This frog, it looks so familiar, almost like the one you saved a couple weeks ago in the sun. In what feels like slow motion, the frog jumps high above and over the gunman’s head and lands on the gun, knocking it out of his hands. You take this moment to shoulder charge the man and knock him down. Suddenly, as the gunman lies on his back looking up at you, a wave of guilt washes over the man. Seconds before, those eyes were filled with anger but are now replaced with pain and suffering. No words need to be spoken, you understand. He does anyways. \n\n“Please, I’m so sorry. I have no one in my life, no one to talk to. I don’t know what I’m doing. I need help.” \n\nYou help him up and smile, “it’s okay.” He half- smiles back at you. At first, it’s hard for him to be vulnerable, but he gives in. He smiles for real. You agree to lunch, your treat, and listen to what’s going on in his life. As you walk out of the alley, you look for the frog. He’s gone, as if he was never there and with him gone so is the gun. You wonder, did a frog just save me? Or maybe, he saved us both. " ]	1
	[WP] You wake up one morning with someone looking exactly like you in your bed. They are your subconscious in physical form and know all your darkest secrets.	[ "It began with a dream. A very odd dream in which I found myself arguing with a voice. I argued for hours it seemed, about the absurdities of Freud. I mean ID, EGO, and SUPEREGO? Give me a break. The mind is the mind is the mind. We don’t need separate constructs to categorize the firing of neurotransmitters or some such nonsense. Or so I believed. \n\nI was drunk when I fell asleep, so to be fair, my dream arguments made little sense, and I yelled like a hot-blooded idiot. Still, the more adamant I became, the more this other voice huffed, finally shouting that I was a bloody idiot who couldn’t tell the difference between a bird and a squirrel and that I’d be sorry for being so pigheadedly arrogant and blatantly disrespectful. I just laughed of course, I mean hell, I was arguing with a voice for Christ’s sake. \n\nImagine my shock when I woke the next morning. My cell’s alarm blared louder than my pounding headache. I groaned into my pillow, praying the damn thing would shut itself off when a voice spoke beside me. \n\n“Do you plan on getting that?”\n\n“What the!” The voice sounded like me. A very irate, smug, condescending me, but me none-the-less. \n\nI turned, squinting against the harsh white light and stared into two brown eyes. My brown eyes. And black hair. Large nose. Wide mouth, smirking at me, as my brain tried to make sense of this. \n\n“Oh God. I’m still asleep.” Just how much did I drink last night?\n\n“Wrong again, sunshine. Seems to be a common occurrence with you.”\n\n“Jesus Christ!” My headache suddenly gone, I snatched my phone and shut off the alarm. My exact double watched from his side of the bed, his smirk never leaving his or my or whatever’s face. \n\n“Nope. Not Jesus. I’m ID.”\n\nID. Are you fucking kidding me?\n\nI vaguely remembered some argument about ID being the construct of one troubled neurologist. \n\n“What the fuck is this? I’m definitely still asleep.” I slapped my cheek for good measure, not expecting to feel the warmth and sudden sting. \n\n“Nope. You’re perfectly awake.”\n\n“This is bull shit.” But I leaned over, hands hovering before poking ID’s arm. My fingers touched warm, solid skin, and I shrieked, rolling over and promptly falling out of bed taking my sheets with me. \n\nThe bastard laughed and leaned over while I rubbed my ass and practically crab walked away from him. \n\n“This is. You’re not –“\n\n“Your subconscious? Why yes, I am.”\n\nOh shit, oh shit, oh shit. \n\n“How is this possible?” His smirk only grew wider and something about his arrogance frayed my patience. \n\n“Listen ass-hole.”\n\n“Oh, so it’s ass-hole now. Is that any way to treat your subconscious?”\n\n“This isn’t real. It’s a nightmare, or day mare or something.”\n\n“No, I’m perfectly real, I assure you.” His smile gleamed, almost predatory, and I suddenly had a very bad feeling. \n\n“Why are you here?”\n\n“To show you just how real I am.”" ]	1
	[WP]Either you kill it, or you don't survive. Those are your choices.	[ "I'm not very fond of choices, personally. \n\nThey're not really my taste. \n\nAs such, I always make an attempt to make the best of all the given options.\n\nIn this case, though, I'd really just rather not participate.\n\nYou kill it or you fail, young hero.\n\n\"Can I just not? I don't really feel like it today. I have some homework due tomorrow.\"\n\nThe spirit chuckled, resulting in an eerie effect where its head bobbed up and down, green smoke trailing off in strange patterns.\n\nYou kill it, or you fail.\n\nOkay, I guess. She seems pretty set on it.\n\nI do have some homework, though. I guess, according to her, saving the world comes first. I can understand that, given that I'm one of the people living on it.\n\n\"So what do I have to do?\"\n\nKill it or fail.\n\n\"Yeah. You said that. Anything else?\"\n\nYes.\n\n\"And?\"\n\nIf you don't kill it, you will die.\n\n\"Could we save this 'till Tuesday? I've got a big paper due tomorrow and I think my mom won't be happy if I manage to fit death into today's schedule.\"\n\nKill it or die.\n\n\"Thank you, Miss Sunshine. I'll go do that.\"\n\nNothing like starting a fight to death with a useless Seer that is, well, useless. The only thing that lady can see are the coins in my pocket and there's no way I'm giving those to someone who is so deliberately unhelpful.\n\n>I might consider finishing more of this story, but I'm not sure. I felt like writing something rather humorous right now. \n> \n> \n> \n>If you're interested, you can find my subreddit at r/storiesfromaguy! \n> \n>Also, let me know if you'd like to me to continue this story." ]	1
	[WP]You have a secret power of flying the sky and it's the top secret. One day, a boy(or a girl) moves to your nextdoor and she finds you hovering in the midnight.	[ "Have you ever felt like you are falling into those endless darkness of the night sky, embroidered with gold, silver, blue strings and yet unseen things without names? Those are pulling you and your mind to itself, closer and closer- soon, your eyesight lose the focus and the beautiful mirage painted on the roof of the Earth is fading like it's just kidding you. Once you see these overwhelming view of the galaxy, you can not get satisfied with the flat third-dimention landscapes or outputs of tedious human architecture.\n\nI know it sounds like I am astronomy nerd, but I am not. I am just a boy who can fly around the sky without anything. Makes no sense, right? I never tell this to anyone. Literally no one, even my parents do not know about my undetected flight every night. I don't want to go to see doctors who cares about a person's mental condition, or finish my life getting into a green sticky unknown liquid with losing consciousness at the corner of a huge test tube shady government lab, getting a new name called 'airplane boy'.\n\nEvery night at 2 o'clock- when a rosewood pendulum clock rings a bell for two times- it is a time for me. I sneak to the door to close it, and put my sausage pillow(the long bodypillow) in my bed, fake the pillow like it's me so if my parents accidently wake up, wouldn't notice that I'm gone when they don't have glasses. Then I open the window at my bedside, changing in black clothes and putting black mask on, make sure that I would not be captured in camera or some drunken people who are still up in the garbage bin.\n\nOnce I open the window, I step on the window box, looking at the unreal sight of the dark city in silence, where there were disturbing illuminations all around once. The early morning air of Autumn is cold- it's actually hard to imply it by a word-, every inch of slender air touching my body around feels like the transparent icy threads are rolled over me. I shiver in unexpected wind which makes me feel way more worse, but I am ready to go. The moon is shining on me, saying 'You are warmly welcomed,' showing off it's yellowy pale light. Tell me, the moon. Your words are warm enough to melt my frozen heart. But why do I still tremble in this quiet blast? The moon is quiet. But I don't mind. No one expects the moon to answer your moan, unless you are a paranoia or a child.\n\n<<I will keep work on my story. Don't delete it!!!>>" ]	1
	[WP] After a mine collapse, West Virginia coal miners are rescued by Dwarves.	[ "Me and my troupe of miners walked along the cold, dank mines, searching desperately for an exit. the mines had collapsed days ago; we’d been surviving on each others packed lunches, dividing it up into rations barely big enough for a mouse. \n\nThese parts of the mine had been abandoned for years; no one had used them since 1939 when they had been bombed by the English. We rarely went past the Second sector nowadays. Too dangerous to go any further, even with the precautions we are able to make.\n\nWe kept walking until we came to intersection. \n‘Crap.’ Someone exclaimed from the front of the group. \n‘Just go left!’ Someone hollered from the back. We continued on.\n\nLooking back on that moment, it was lucky we went left. You’ll see why in a few.\n\nWe trudged on. It was feeling like miles and miles until we stoped again. \n‘What is it now?’ \nThe same guy from the back. \n‘Well?’\n\n‘Its..Its... a CITY!’\n\nEveryone surged forward with new found confidence. No longer the unorganised group we were a few minutes ago, we ran forward in single file we had been trained to do so many years ago, in boot camp.\n\nUntil we stopped again.\n\nA loud booming voice echoed from the front. It didn’t sound like anyone I knew though.\n\n‘Welcome to the city of the dwarves. What do you seek, hairless creatures?’\n\n\n\nSorry if my story is a bit short its my first one and I’m not used to this..ples dont hurt me" ]	1
	[WP] Your sitting at you desk studying when suddenly the lights outside dim down.You take a look at your watch but its still 11 o'clock in the morning...	[ "I put my book down on the desk and looked through the blinds. The sky was swirling like liquid, and I could see by the gradient of the clouds that something massive had blocked the sun.\n\nJust as I turned to run into another room, the weather emergency sirens outside began screaming in every directing, reaching my bones with a haunting resonance. \n\nThe living room was chillingly dark, and outside I could hear the trees beginning to wave back and forth through the thick air.\n\nI looked outside another window where I was able to see a gigantic cylindrical cloud somehow stretching all the way to the top of the atmosphere where it disbursed like the blast of an atomic bomb. Around it, lighter colored rings formed, as if the smaller clouds, too, were confused by its presence.\n\nThe unnatural cloud looked biblical.\n\nI turned on the television to see newscasters pleading for people to find secure shelter. A graphic of the state of Minnesota showed a long line of counties in red, including mine, just on the edge of the storm. Moments later, the image on the television froze, then broke apart.\n\nI heard a rumbling. It sounded sort of like an army of horses stampeding in my direction. Outside, I could see that it was hail, smashing harder by the second. I stumbled backward, panic rising in my throat. I was worried about my family. No one was home but me.\n\nWith no time to spare, I ran into the basement. I went into the spare bedroom, and flipped the twin-sized mattress over myself and dragged it into the bathroom. After a few eternally long moments, I managed to get it into the bathtub with me.\n\nI could hear things breaking outside, as the wind, rain, and hail obliterated anything that wasn't made of concrete. The lights turned off, signaling the destruction of a power line near by. \n\nHow was a storm like this possible anywhere, let alone in Minnesota?\n\n-----\n\nAfter forty minutes or so, the storm had passed. I ran upstairs to find that three windows had been shattered, and the carpet was completely drenched. Leaves, mud, and ice were scattered all over the house. Outside, car alarms were turned off as neighbors came out of their houses to assess the damage. I ran outside to speak with my neighbor Jerry.\n\n\"Hey Jer, you ever see anything like that?\" I asked.\n\n\"No,\" he said as his eyes darted from one house to another. \"that was insane.\"\n\nI bent down and picked up a baseball-size clump of ice. It's edges were smooth in places, and jagged in others, as if it were merely a piece of something larger. \n\n----\n\nThere were thirteen deaths in my county alone, one hundred and fifty six in total. I was thankful not to know any of them. \n\nThe storm was a total mystery to everyone. Its energy seemed to come out of nowhere. The blue morning sky turned into a violently swirling haze in only a few seconds, lightning, wind, rain, and ice flying omnidirectionally, as if from an explosion that continued to grow until it could sustain itself. \n\nIn the days after the storm, the military had a large role in organizing disaster relief and clean up efforts. Unexpectedly, they lingered for months, having sectioned off part of a wildlife preservation park. It didn't take long for people to presume that the storm was likely the aftermath of something else. ", "\"Honey\" a woman called, looking out the window at the suddenly dark street.\n\n\"Yeah\" replied a mans voice.\n\n\"I think your dad unplugged the sun again\" the woman said, pointing out the window as her husband entered wearing a bathrobe.\n\nJesus Christ sighed, putting two fingers on the bridge of his nose \"good father of mine why?\"\n\n\"There, there, maybe there's a good reason this time\" she tried, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.\n\n\"I...hope so\" he said taking out his phone.\n\nShe smiled and left, closing the the door after her, knowing full well this would go south fast.\n\nJesus, now alone in the little study, waited for his dad to pick up, silently dreading the conversation ahead of him.\n\n\"Good morning, you are currently speaking with the king of hell himself, Lucifer, morning star, Satan, who has the pleasure to speak with me?\" Came a voice just trying way to hard.\n\n\"Satan! How did you get dads phone?!?\" Jesus screamed. Meanwhile in the living room, his wife, sitting on the couch reading: \"huh, new record\".\n\n\"Oh, if it isn't the so called chosen one who STOLE MY THUNDER, and you say this here little communication device belongs to our most GLORIOUS bringer into being.\" He replied, probably weaving his arms stupidly as he said it.\n\n\"Yes...now...how did you get it.\" Jesus said, straining not to just hang up.\n\n\"Well, only Jew in heaven\" really straining \"if I had to guess, he must have simply miss placed it at the party he attended down here\".\n\n\"HE WHAT\".\n\n\"Hey, he deserves a break to you know, keeping the universe running 24/7 is hard work, besides I'm sure the Holy Spirit can hold the fort until the capital G man gets back.\"\n\n\"He's not qualified\" Jesus whined.\n\n\"Now, now you know your all actually the same person, he is just as qualified as the G man\" Lucifer stated smugly.\n\n\"Satan, not now.\" Jesus said firmly.\n\n\"I'll get the phone to him, don't worry you little conundrum of existence\".\n\n\"Good\".\n\nThere are sounds of shuffling, a couple moans, a number of curses and complaints that it's too early.\n\n\"Huh\" came Satan suddenly \"that's weird-\" he was cut of by a rumble that also Jesus felt.\n\n\"Did you find him?\" Jesus asked, a bit afraid.\n\n\"No, but I did find a half finished jug of LSD\" Satan sounded utterly terrified.\n\n\"A-are you saying what I think you're saying\" there was another rumble.\n\n\"I think he's having a bad trip\".\n" ]	2
	[WP] In the middle of the night, you hear indistinguishable whispers. As you get up to investigate, you say that there's a thief in your house. But the thief comes up behind you and says, "That ain't me, dude..."	[ "Abruptly awoken by a loud thump, Rowan jumped from his bed and hurried over to his wall. He quickly grabbed the replica sword of He-Man he'd had since he was a child and started to creep down the hall way. He remembered the time first he got the sword as a child, and how his father swore to never buy plastic replica's for his \"Best, and amazing buddy!\" or so that's how he recalled. \n\nAs he slowly crept down the hall passed his parents room, he spotted movement out of his peripheral vision. A man no taller than him stood rummaging through his now deceased mothers' dresser. \"HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?!\" yelled Rowan, slowly walking over with the sword pointed at the man. He could hear the laughter of his mother echoing in his head as he approached. That only made him angry at this stranger, this thief who is defiling what left he has of his mother. \n\nThe man's head slowly turned to look at Rowan. His gaze was solid, and perplexed Rowan to a halt. The man's eyes where white, and had faint flickers and twitches as his hands still rummaged through the dresser. \n\n\"I'M GOING TO CUT OFF YOUR HANDS!?!?\" Rowan blurted out from his perplexed state. He then proceeded faster than he'd been going before.\n\nThe man's eyes corrected themselves, and with a look of shock and confusion he stepped back. \"Please, please sir...I mean you no harm!\" He fumbled backwards, tripping over the bent edge of a large rug that was between him and a king sized bed. \"I--I don't know how I ended up in this room. Please, you have to believe me.\"\n\nRowan stopped in his tracks, with the sword held towards the man, saying \"Why where you looking through my mothers stuff? Wait, first off who are you and why are you in my house?!?\" He looks around the dim-lit room to see if anything else was out of order.\n\n\"My name is Joseph Whatlen...I'm...I'm a thief by trade, and I was coming to steal an item from this residence.\" He slowly got to his feet with his hands showing the whole time. \"I don't remember coming this far into the house, or anything after I walked through the back door.\"\n\nRowan's head quickly turned towards the door. A thumping noise, and whispers filled the hallway. \"Who else is here with you?\" He urged the man to walk towards the door slowly.\n\nJoseph started to walk at a mid panicked pace, and kept his hands up so that Rowan would not be alarmed. Joseph thought that if he kept a non-threatening demeanor that the young man with a sword pointed at him would let him go, he's a professional after all. \"I promise that there's no one here with me. I work solo on most jobs.\" \n\n\"Yeah, whatever. When we get down the stairs, I'm going to need you to tell your partner or partners to back off or I'll call the police.\" Rowan held up his phone that'd he'd been holding the whole time; but never thought to use as a source of light. \n\nBoth men approached the end of the stairway and walked towards the source of the noise. As they inched closer the whispers got louder and louder. Another echoing rang inside Rowan's head, but this time of his father's dying sorrow from the loss of his wife. Joseph started to shiver and put his hands down around his waist.\n\n\"I--I'm getting r--really cold...\" Joseph let out faintly. \"Can I p--please stop?\" He pleaded with Rowan, and promptly fell to his knees. \n\nRowan noticed that there were icicles forming on the Joseph's hands as he placed them to the ground. \"What the hell is happening to you?\" Rowan stood next to him and helped him stand back up. Fearful that Joseph might do something in retaliation, he stepped back as quickly as his feet let him.\n\nOnce on his feet Joseph's body stopped shivering, and the icicles that formed on his hands disappeared. \"What the hell happened to me?!?\" Joseph asked, almost mockingly. \"I thought I was going to freeze to death.\" He stared with a blank expression on his face, then quickly turned to the whispers. \"I am serious this time kid. I work alone.\"", "It's rarely on purpose I sit awake at three in the morning staring at the darkness, but it's also rare someone is in my house whispering. Normally I'm a pretty heavy sleeper so it's that much more surprising the whispers woke me up. I sigh and mumble to myself, \"Never actually thought I'd get to hit a thief with a bat, but tonight is the night.\"\n\nFrom the darkness next to my bed comes a panicked whisper, \"Yo, I please don't hit me. I swear I wasn't going to hurt you, just take a few things. You know this Rolex is a fake?\" Startled, I leap from my bed and snatch up the aforementioned bat. I probably would have swing if the whisper hadn't come from the other side of my bed. \"I... I'll make sure you leave my Rolex alone!\" It wasn't a great threat, but I wasn't really used to being robbed. \n\nThe lamp on my desk clicks on to reveal a slender woman in black. She holds the watch up and now with greater confidence, replies, \"No for real, it's fake. I don't even want it. Also, do you have roommates? I thought I cased this place well, but there's someone in your kitchen.\"\n\nI stare at her, surely with a defeated look, and lower my bat. She waits as I find my words, \"So... I'm coincidentally being robbed by two different people?\" Really, what are the odds? \n\nShe rolls her eyes, puts my watch down and steps closer, but not within range of my bat. \"Look,\" she says, \"if they are whispering, then it's clear there's at least two. No thief talks to herself while perusing a house. No good thief at least.\" \n\nOddly, the matter of fact tone makes her seem less of a threat. It doesn't help that now I have even more people in my home to worry about. I lean on my bat like a cane and ask, \"Alright, if you know everything, what should I do? And don't think you're off the hook. I'm definitely going to call the police after all this is done.\"\n\nShe smirks, \"Sure you will.\" Jerking her head toward the door, she says with a more serious tone, \"I'm actually curious too. If you promise not to try and hit me, we can go down together.\" I think this over and ultimately decide it's better to go with her than leave her to steal my things and escape while I go look on my own. \"Fine, but no funny business.\"\n\nWe creep down the hallway towards my kitchen, her in front because I'm not that foolish. As we get near, the floor board creeks under my foot and the whispers cut short. How had she not stepped on it herself? Of course, she's now glaring at me over her shoulder. I shrug, unsure of what she expected or what to do.\n\nBefore I can say anything, a voice calls out from the kitchen, \"That was clumsy of you, Sam. We know you're there now so you might as well come in here and face what's coming.\" Her glare turns to panic and I get my turn at glaring, though I at least keep my mouth shut. She makes a few quick hand motions and I get the idea she wants me to go around to the other kitchen entrance. I violently shake my head and mouth, \"No way.\" \n\nSam pinches the bridge of her nose for a moment then sighs in defeat. With a sad look, she turns and walks into the kitchen. \"Look Vinny, I know It's your territory, but let's try and take this outside at least.\" \n\nVinny replies, \"That's a good idea. Ray, get the door for the lady.\" Satisfied this problem will resolve itself, I turn to go upstairs and call the police to make sure it gets resolved for sure.", "Brandon stumbled back and nearly knocked into his coffee table. \"Holy shi-\"\n\n\"Shush!\" The man dressed in black whispered angrily, covering his mouth. \"Shut the fuck up, dude!\"\n\nBrandon pushed the man's hand away, scowling at him angrily. \"What the fuck are you doing in my house?\" He muttered at the intruder. \n\n\"I WAS going to rob it, until I found out you live in the fucking Paranormal Activity house.\" The thief hissed. \"There's some messed-up shit going on here.\"\n\n\"Oh, and you coming into my house to rob me isn't messed up?\" Brandon retorted. \"You better get the hell out of this house right now or-\"\n\n\"Keep your voice down, it's going to hear us!\" The thief interrupted. \"Listen man, you have to believe me. There's something weird in this house...\"\n\nIt was then that Brandon noticed the silhouette of a wispy, clawed hand reaching for the man's shoulder, and noticed a pair of completely white pupils in the darkness. \n\n\"Your house is haunted or...or something.\" The man rambled, unaware of the sudden chill. \"You need to move out or some-\"\n\nThere was a sharp crunching noise as the hand sunk it's claws deep into the man's shoulder. The thief let out a garbled scream and a string of curses, desperately trying to grab onto something as he was flung back. Whatever pleas he tried to make seemingly fell on deaf ears as Brandon stood there, watching.\n\nSmiling.\n\nThe man desperately clawed on the floor until his fingernails bled, grasping as he let out choked noises with each resounding crunch and thump. All of the noises he was making tricked to a halt when he was violently throw down the basement stairs.\n\nBrandon sighed. \"Thank you for waking me up and alerting me, Isabel.\" He thanked.\n\nThe entity made a soft hum in response.\n\n\"Though I have to say, you kind of overdid it.\" Brandon informed. \"It would've been easier to just kick him out of the house. A lot of mess for us to clean up now.\"\n\nThe entity made a small noise.\n\n\"Nah, don't feel bad about it. You still got rid of the problem; just in a extreme way.\"\n\nThere was a soft giggle.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, I should've been specific. C'mon, let's get everything cleaned up now-we've got guests coming over.\"\n\nWho knew ghosts made such good alarms/bodyguards? ", "David Jenkins snuck down his hallway, following the whispers. Was there a thief in the house?\n\n\"Yes,\" the thief, apparently also capable of reading thoughts, said.\n\nDavid, somehow, refrained from shrieking and leaping in a random direction. \"The hell!?\" he hissed. \"Why are you in my house whispering indistinguishably?\"\n\n\"Well I'm in your house to rob it, duh.\" The thief said. \"Thief,\" he clarified, pointing to himself. \"But the noises? That ain't me, dude.\" He shrugged. \"I mean, why would I be whispering? Silent prowling is kinda my whole shtick. That and the thieving.\"\n\nDavid listened and, sure enough, indistinguishable whispers could still be heard from downstairs. He crept toward the stairway, and the thief crept with him. The thief was far better.\n\n\"Who do you think it is, then?\" David whispered to the home invader. \"A murderer?\"\n\n\"Nah, not me,\" the murderer walked out of the bathroom. David once again refrained from falling over in fear.\n\n\"The hell!?\" David repeated, still keeping his voice down. \"Why are you in my house whispering all indistinguishably?\"\n\n\"Well, I'm in your house to murder you,\" the murderer said, further clarifying his occupation by gesturing to himself and saying: \"Murderer. But I've got no reason to be whispering either. Who would I be whispering to? You? You're going to be dead, what's the point?\"\n\n\"Heya,\" the thief said, sticking out his hand at the murderer. \"I'm the thief. Mind if I rob the place once you've done the whole 'murder' thing?\"\n\nThe murderer shrugged. \"Works for me.\"\n\nDavid wasn't paying attention. He was listening down the stairs and, sure enough, the whispering was continuing. Slowly, he began descending to the first floor. The thief and the murderer continued after him; both were better at sneaking than David was.\n\n\"Who could it be?\" David asked, mostly to himself, as he approached the landing. In one direction, indistinguishable whispers. In the other, the back door. \"Maybe escaped convicts?\"\n\nThe back door opened and two escaped convicts, chained to each other at the ankle, awkwardly walked in. \"Hey, what did we miss?\"\n\nThe thief gestured toward the direction the whispers were coming from. \"Indistinguishable whispers, it's not me or the murderer back there.\"\n\nThe murderer waved.\n\nDavid frowned. \"Or maybe it's police? With a lot of reward money or something?\"\n\nNobody appeared.\n\n\"Dammit,\" David said. \"It's only the bad things I say that turn out to be true.\"\n\n\"Speaking of the police, though,\" one of the escaped convicts said, \"we should probably get moving.\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, get in line,\" David said, gesturing to the line of people he'd apparently collected.\n\nSilently determining not to ask himself anymore speculative questions about who could be whispering, David snuck off in the direction of the whispers one final time. Even though the convicts were chained together, they somehow were still better at sneaking than David was.\n\nA flickering, eerie blue light illuminated the living room, and the whispers emanated from the corner. David turned, and there he saw-\n\n\"Dude,\" the thief said. \"You left your TV on.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" David said, unimpressed.\n\n\"Oh, the TV!\" The murderer said. \"That would explain the commercials I heard earlier. I just thought someone in the house really liked 7-up.\"\n\n\"Hey,\" the convicts said, \"could you change it to the news? It'd be handy to know if there's a manhunt going on.\"\n\nDavid sighed. \"Well, that's that, then. I'll just be heading upstairs-\"\n\nThe four people stared at him.\n\n\"Right, all the bad things that are going to happen to me.\"\n\nThe murderer stepped forward. \"Really, though, I'm the only bad thing. The thief's going to steal your stuff but you'll be dead so you won't care. The convicts don't even have a beef with you.\"\n\nOne of the convicts stepped forward. \"Actually, I don't think I can let you murder him.\"\n\nHope, blessed blessed hope, overcame David.\n\n\"And why not?\" The murderer said.\n\nThe convict gestured to the TV, where a helicopter was pointing a camera down at a house David recognized as his own. The words \"MANHUNT FOR ESCAPED CONVICTS NARROWS\" were emblazoned at the bottom of the screen.\n\n\"Because,\" the convict said, \"we need him as a hostage.\"" ]	4
	[WP] Gifted with intelligence and mystical powers, Familiars are summoned to serve for life. But sometimes their bond with this world is not severed by the death of their Master, leaving them to wander until adopted by another. Unknowingly, you've just rescued an orphaned Familiar.	[ "A door creaked open as the young woman walked into the dark corridor. She walked here as soon as she heard word from her best friend Aryll, that she had pieced together the puzzle, the dreams. And while she looked around the seemingly empty room, she thought perhaps she had gotten something wrong. Came to the wrong secret abandoned government building...\n\n\"Cheyanne...\" said a soft whisper in her mind.\n\nShe crept forward, curiosity taking hold of her. She came upon a door to the right, and entered it. The room appeared to be a meeting area, with a large desk, many chairs, and what seemed to her to be a large window blind behind it all. She inched into the room slowly, looking around for the source of the voice...\n\n\"You mean well... but are you truly good?\" said the voice.\n\nShe glanced around again. Nothing... This is insane, she thought. I'm going crazy, she thought. \n\nThe projector turned on. On it, a shield, with three javelins, each with different symbolism. The foremost one with wings on both sides, the leftmost one with a wrench, and the rightmost one with a feather.\n\n\"Who... are you?\"\n\n\"No, Cheyanne, the question you should be asking is, 'Who am I?'\"\n\nAs she ponders this, she looks back to the table, in which a raven is perched, staring at her. She walks over to the raven, trying to get a closer look, when it flies up and lands on her shoulder. \n\n\"Well, that's nonsense, I know exactly who I am.\"\n\n\"But is it really who you want to be? Nothing but an apprentice to Aryll? Nothing but her dream therapist?\"\n\nCheyanne thought about this. For all these years, she's been there for Aryll. She's been there for every nightmare, every dream, ready to record every single detail of it. By now, she'd compiled a journal nearly five times a dictionary's length, full of notes on the locations and people of her dreams.\n\n\"I help Aryll because she's my friend, and I want to help her. I try to help everyone... but there isn't enough help to go around sometimes...\"\n\nThe raven vanishes into a puff of smoke. As it does, the projector turns off again, and a cold breeze enters the room.\n\n\"Cheyanne! How'd you get here before me? Either way I'm glad you're here, I think my dreams may have been pointing me here, we might end up finding...\"\n\nCheyanne interrupts her mid-sentence, \"Yeah, I think so too. Go ahead and check out the other rooms down the hallway... I'll be there in a bit.\" Aryll agrees and quickly bounces out the door again.\n\n\"May I know your name?\"\n\n\"Tharja. My previous master named me that. And ever since my Queen perished, I happen to be looking for a new one...\"\n\nCheyanne nods as the raven appears on her shoulder once more. \"Well, Tharja, I'm glad you've decided to tag along.\" She smiles, and glances around the room once more, and as she walks out, the raven disappears yet again, into another ethereal plane of existence.\n\n\"Yes, Cheyanne. I'm glad too.\" whispers the voice once more.", "-MiNX-\n\nEnormous flakes of snow fell over Longyearbyen one cold morning in late October. Already, nearly half a meter of fluffy powder coated the brightly painted houses and ancient black mountains of Svalbard's largest town. By nightfall the weight of the snow was expected to double.\n\nAnna sat on the steps of her family's old house, a two story red building that sat above the ground on short wooden stilts. She was bundled up tight in a North Face jacket and thick woolen scarf, one that her grandmother had knitted for her seventh birthday nearly half a decade ago. Her warm clothing kept out the chill that blew in from the Adventfjorden.\n\nBeside of her sat a black cat. It periodically lifted one of its paws for grooming, but was mostly still. The animal watched with Anna as she looked out across the town and the still, glassy waters of the bay. Despite the low angle of the sun, it seemed unusually bright, like the light was caught in a trap between the icey stratus above and the blanket of snow below. Sound seemed trapped, too. Silence was the natural state of things here. To speak was to break the proper ordering of the world.\n\n\"This can't be really happening,\" Anna finally said.\n\nThe cat turned from the ocean to her. It paused for a moment, and then spoke directly from its mind to her own, \"I'm not sure what to say. Is there anything that you would like to hear?\"\n\nAnna shook her head and replied, \"Not unless you can bring back my parents.\"\n\nThe cat moved over next to Anna and laid itself down by her legs. It purred like a vibrating engine. \"As I said before, those who have passed into the world below are beyond even my reach while I'm up here,\" the cat spoke, \"But I can help you to forget them if the pain is too great to bear.\"\n\n\"It hurts a lot,\" Anna said, \"But please don't.\"\n\nThe cat looked up at her and said, \"I understand. I keep the memory of my first partner with me, as well. It would be like having him die again if I were to force him from my mind.\"\n\nAnna was silent for a moment. Then, she said, \"Could you send me where they are?\"\n\nThe cat tilted its head back to look her in the eyes. \"I could send you to the dark below,\" it finally said, \"And if you truly desire that, then I will. But as someone who came from that place myself, I know that everyone is alone there. That ancient abyss is a place of pain and madness, Anna. Even if there were enough light to see, the cruelty of the underworld would blind you on its own.\"\n\nAnna put her head in her hands and stared down at her feet. Finally, she replied, \"Why would you say that?\"\n\n\"I want you to stay here with me,\" the cat said, \"And telling you what's waiting for you in the hereafter seems like an effective strategy to accomplish that. I can hide you from the ones who control that place and who would take you there. Just like you sheltered me from the cold when you thought that I was a stray kitten. I can teach you things that will make you as powerful as a god.\"\n\n\"What happened to your old friend?\" Anna said, \"Couldn't you help him?\"\n\nThe cat turned away. \"I did,\" it finally said, \"for two thousand years. Eventually, though, he chose to leave me as my friends had said that he would. He chose the scorching darkness he did not know over the cold darkness that had grown too familiar. All humans do so eventually, it would seem. But I had him for a time.\"\n\n\"And that was good?\"\n\n\"No, but it is more valuable to me even as a memory than the entire world would be if it were granted to me right now.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" Anna said.\n\nSnow continued to fall, the flakes only growing in size as the sun moved invisibly behind the clouds. \"I'll stay with you for now,\" Anna said, \"Just promise me that I won't ever be alone like I was right after the crash, before I knew you could talk. At least, not while I'm up here.\"\n\n\"I promise you,\" the cat said as it lay its head on her lap, \"In this world so full of hope and sunlight, you will never be without me.\"" ]	2
	[WP] "Whatever you do, don't accept the key to the city."	[ "The sun would have been high in the sky today. Mother Nature had other ideas, though, and the clouds had finally parted in the past hour. The rain fell softly behind me, a soft patter against the window of the office. \n\nOffice may not be the best word to use, I thought. Squished into a slum of a building on the West Side, the room acted as my place of work as well as the kitchen, bed, and living room. Rent may have only been a few hundred bucks a month more than I would like, but it put a roof over my head and an address on the business card.\n\nOne such card was in the hand of my visitor. Broad and barrel chested, the man was crouched on one of the folding chairs I kept for when customers showed up. He twirled the card between two meaty fingers, then flicked it so that it sailed through the air and landed on the desk facing me.\n\nPrivate Eye On The Prize \nJefferson Wilkins \n418 Amsterdam Ave, Apt 2B\n\nI glanced up at the man, meeting his steely gaze. \"Nice trick. You must be a hit at parties.\"\n\n\"It does the job when I need it to.\" Coming from the huge man, his voice was squeakier, more high pitched than I expected. The voice sounded as though it could have come from a preteen.\n\n\"So what can I do for you, Mr...\" My voice trailed off with a questioning tone. I gotta start getting these names once they show up.\n\n\"Ramirez. Ramon Ramirez. Most people call me Tiny.\"\n\nOf course they do. I paused, trying not to laugh at the disparity. \"Well, Mister Ramirez, back to the question. What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"Actually, it's more what you can do for yourself.\" Ramirez reached inside his coat pocket. I reached for my desk drawer on instinct, ready to pull my Colt .45 at a moment's notice. He saw my motion and paused, then pulled a battered newspaper from inside his pocket and placed it on the tabletop. The tension hung in the air as I looked at the paper, fully aware of what I would be looking at.\n\nPrivate Eye Saves Heiress, To Receive Key To City\n\nI raised an eyebrow. \"So what is it, you saw this and figured you'd ask me to help with some big score? I've seen your type before, and it never ends up well.\"\n\nTiny shifted in his seat uncomfortable. \"Not...not quite. I'm here to give you some advice. Don't take the key.\"\n\n\"Come again?\"\n\n\"Whatever you do, don't accept the key to the city.\"\n\nI stood from behind the desk, the rain taking that moment to bear down even harder. \"I don't know what your deal is, but you need to leave.\"\n\nRamirez stayed in his seat, staring at me intently. \"I figured you weren't going to listen to reason, so I might as well lay it all on the table. The key is one of the most dangerous things you can have in your possession, especially with your skills. They don't tell you that that key actually does open every door in the city. Some of those doors were meant to stay closed.\"\n\nI chuckled in response. \"Well gee whiz, don't you think that might be useful for a guy like me? No need to crack a window, no jimmying a lock--\"\n\nTiny cut me off, slamming a not-so-tiny fist on the table. \"NO, DAMMIT! It's the worst thing. I've seen what it does. It will lead you down a dark path that will lead to your death.\"\n\nI paused, a low rumble of thunder shaking the room. I chose my next words carefully and spoke softly. \"Who did you lose?\"\n\nThe man looked at the floor. \"My brother. He got a key, and now it's been three years since I last saw him.\"\n\nI exhaled harshly. So this is what it's all about. \"Do you want me to look for your brother? I can give you a discount of my services...\"\n\nTiny shook his head, still transfixed on the wood floor. \"I figured he was gone a long time ago. I've moved on from that. I just don't want someone else to suffer the same way he did.\"\n\nA silence filled the room, only broken by the pouring rain outside. I mulled over my options carefully, then spoke. \"I can't pass this up. From what you've told me, this is something that needs to be looked into , and I can't do that without the key in hand. But I can promise you this. I will find out what happened to your brother. You deserve closure.\"\n\nTiny smiled timidly. \"Th-thank you. I understand, and I really appreciate it.\" He got to his feet, seemingly filling the room. He turned and walked to the door and placed one of his large hands on the handle. As lighting flashed, filling the room, he turned back and looked at me.\n\n\"Just so you know, one day, they're going to ask you to use that key. You best hope that they don't make you open the wrong door.\"\n\n/u/TemporaryPatch New Years Resolution Tracker: 48/100. Visit /r/TemporaryPatchWrites for more responses and stories!" ]	1
	[WP] You wake up one morning to a terrifying sight. The sky is blood red, the air smells of death, and it seems to be raining ash.	[ "I woke up one morning and thought I was dead.\nThe sky was covered with bright crimson red.\nThe air was filled with fallen ash of past.\nWas I in purgatory or hell at last?\n\nIt was a day like no other day. Instead of being greeted by the blue sky on a clear day, I was greeted by a nightmare. There was not enough men and the flames were spreading. The bright orange-red feathers were changing the color of everything it touched, darkening their hue to a charcoal black. Trees engulfed while their leaves decayed. Homes demolished as people ran away. We had no warning beforehand as nobody saw this coming, this was not arson on any regular day. Something had chosen us to endure this pain.\n\nI grabbed my stuff and ran out of my home, I had a feeling that this wasn't a brush or campfire that had been freed. As I ran outside to join the crowd running away, I saw a small girl staring through the flames. I ran to grab her and bring her away from the danger, and she kept staring at the hot-red embers. Curious to see what could have captured her attention, I stop to look in her direction. I saw something unlike anything before, a ellipse of embers that appear to be forming a door. I wanted to go see what that portal revealed, but the heat was too intense to appeal. I brought the little girl to a safe place, hiding behind a grey-blue car shielding her face. I ran to my home for a looking glass, a small pair of binoculars were too perfect to pass. Returning to the spot, I looked at the view. I saw something horrible and didn't know what to do. People trapped among the flames, slowly engulfed by something untamed. A creature with bright yellow eyes, darker than grey skin, a humanoid form with claw-like hands. Chewing away their unfortunate prey.\nOn instinct, I ran away. I picked up the young girl and looked for a safe place. We found a car and drove away in it. We headed to the mountain, passing by everyone who are trying to escape as well. The young girl looked terrified, so I tried to talk to her to soften up the unfortunate events that were unfolding.\n\"What's your name?\"\n\"....Amber\"\n\"Cool name, did your mom chose that for you?\"\n\"No, it was my dad's choice.\"\n\"He made a good choice, nice name. Where is your dad by the way?\"\n\"You saw him, he was in the fire.\"\n\nA sense of unease ran through me as I realized I watched the girl's parents get killed by that creature. I further progress the conversation.\n\n\"I am sorry about your father.\"\n\"Don't be, he did this.\"\n\nConfused, I ask her to clarify what she meant.\n\n\"He did what?\"\n\"He did this to me, now it's spreading.\"\n\"What exactly is \"this\"?\"\n\"He made me read these weird books and do these weird things.\"\n\nI was getting concerned.\n\n\"Weird things?\"\n\"He made me collect dead animals are arrange them in the forest, I didn't know why.\"\n\nShe stopped for a moment and looked out the car windows.\n\n\"But I think I now know.\"\n\nAs we were driving on the side of the mountain, I glanced out the window and saw something I had never seen. A portal in the sky with a creature flying out of it. A creature emitting the brightest reds, the most intense oranges, all taking form of a giant bird swooping above the fire. It's heat was radiating enough to cause everything it flew by to burst into flames. It's size was incomparable to anything I had seen before. Taking out whole towns in the blink of an eye, this was a force that was on a scale larger than we knew.\n\nI understood the situation was beyond anyone's control and hurried to get out of the town as quickly as possible. The creature was nearing our town and we were approaching the tunnel. Pushing everything the car could take, we were rapidly approaching a tunnel at what felt like a crawl compared to the sky creature's speed. Close to the tunnel, we felt the heat increasing and the light getting brighter. We closed our eyes hoping for the best.\n\nWe lost control of the car and were launched through the tunnel. Everything was bright for a moment and all of a sudden dark. I couldn't see anything in the pitch black tunnel. I checked to see if the girl was okay.\n\n\"Hey, Amber?\"\n\"Yeah?\"\n\"Are you dead?\"\n\"I don't think so.\"\n\nThat was a stupid question, but I didn't think of anything else to ask.\n\nI searched for a potential source of light in the car. I found a lighter in the glove box and used it to light our way through the tunnel. Eventually, we found the other side. My jaw dropped at first sight of the new landscape. What we thought would be our safe haven was our worst scenario. The whole area was under flames, with portals welcoming new creatures into our world. There was no sight of life from anywhere me and Amber could see. Our judgement day had arrived." ]	1
	[WP] The deal you made with the Devil for immortality came with the caveat that you could choose to die when you were ready. Well, you waited too long and have outlived the universe, including Heaven and Hell.	[ "\"SPAAAAACE\" \ni think to my self, or the lack of it to be precise.\nThere is nothing, but me and this tiny little ball of matter. \n\"The universe shrinked backed into it? Huh, who would have thought?\"\nCertainly not the devil himself.\n \"Who knew even he can die of old age huh\" i keep talking to my self. There is no one else so i might as well have a proper converastion with the only person on the same level of intellect as me. \n\"Oh wait\" i am the only person here.\nAfter seeing your loved ones wither away of old ages, and also the next ones and the thousand other loved ones. A guy stops feeling sad.\nI have seen galactic empires rise and fall\n\"There was this really cool human empire with a God Emperor, fun times.\" I chuckle like a teen seeing his crush in the hallway of a school.\nMy thoughts dwell on the devil, did he expect me to crack and ask to die? Or to somehow to find a loophole in the deal we made?\n\"Dumbass\" i say it softly hoping he could somehow hear me.\nOr maybe this is my punishment in hell? Did he actually win in the end? \nMy mind is slowly coming to the terms that i should choose to end it now. Rest like every living thing should in the end. Like its meant to be. \nI give that small little ball of matter another quick glance before departing for the afterlife. \n\"Everything that was, every person, thought, deed and action is in you right now. All of that in a cosmic golf ball. Well arent you a special little golf ball?\"\nSuddenly i remember, the universe began with a small little golf ball like this. Why not stay for a little while longer? Maybe there is going to be something new after all\n\"It's going to be fun being a good\"\n", "record scratch\nfreeze-frame\n\nYup, that's me, and you're probably wondering why I'm floating around in absolute oblivion. Well let me tell you, never make a deal with the devil, not that you can now anyway, but more on that later.\nIt started about 10 thousand years ago? Maybe more, it's hard to know how much time goes by here you know, since everything's gone. Let's just go with that. So, it's 17 BC, I lived a normal life, well for the time period anyway, but for some reason that day felt different. I headed out, why? I don't remember exactly but don't blame me, it has been a while since then. While walking, a strange man stopped me, I would later learn he was Satan himself. The man immediately gave off a weird vibe, he looked out of place and was weirdly too handsome, but I felt compelled to listen to him. He gave me some bullshit excuse for me to follow him, but even then I wasn't a complete idiot and I left. He quickly followed me and told about this once in a lifetime opportunity. Let's be honest here, I was definitely a greedy fuck at the time, and even if I knew this was most probably a trap, what if he was telling the truth? The Biggest mistake of my whole life and let me tell you, I made a lot of those.\n\nI followed him into a clearing deep in the woods, my instinct was telling me to run the hell out of there, (Haha, get it?) But for some reason I couldn't. He spoke to me with a very different voice, a much deeper and demonic one. I would like to say I was brave, but I was scared as shit. After a bit of calming me down, he offered to buy my soul. Now, at the time, I lived from selling things for way too much, I even once managed to sell a single bag of hay for 4 goats, but we're off subject now. When I heard him talk about an exchange my fear melted, I had to get the best deal possible out of it. What better than eternal life? Of course if I never died he couldn't have my soul, so we agreed I would decide when I wanted to die. Now this sounds good and all, but I decided to never want to die, to be honest I was scared what he would do with my soul.\n\nAt first, I continued to live my normal life, it was hard when I lost the people I loved but I got over it, I had all eternity in front of me after all. I had lots of fun, I saw civilization evolved, I tried pretty much everything. Life was good, and eternal. Of course I would get bored, but I always found something new and interesting. I never wanted to die, I proudly thought that I fucked over Satan himself, I was right, but also very wrong. Around 2600, a big war started between god and Satan, in minutes, everything on earth was destroyed, except me. I thought it was over but I was wrong. I bright light blinded me and I think I lost consciousness.\n\nWhen I woke up, I was here, alone. I tried to wish for death, but it doesn't work if the concept of death doesn't even exist anymore. I tried playing around in the nothingness, but I got bored quickly. Since then, I just, float around, waiting for something, someone to take me out of my misery. Even if Satan never got my soul, I'm basically in hell, alone and bored forever, speaking to myself to forget the loneliness.", "I do not know how I exist.\n\nI had thought they would come for me eons ago. With their spears raised high, blood-red tails curling, murky white teeth promising pain. But they never did, never touched me, never breached our agreement.\n\nAt one point, I was human, but I know that is not the case any longer. I don't know quite what I am, how I am, other than that I exist, somehow. I live on, a vessel, containing memories of a universe and life long forgotten by time. Remembering, knowing more than a human mind could ever hope to know or remember.\n\nIf time even exists, anymore, in this void. The crushing sensation of the universe's collapse, either an infinite amount of time or just a second ago, is gone now. \n\nSometimes, I wonder what I should do. If I can do anything. I have no autonomy, there are no physical rules by which I may move. No laws governing how I can interact with this nothingness that surrounds me.\n\nToday, I consider thought. \n\nIf the universe is no more, if there is truly nothing else in the sense that there does not exist a thing that one - particularly, me - might consider something... is my thought, my imagination, the only barrier to creation?\n\nNothing can be realer than my dreams, for there is nothing else. My imagination is reality, in the sense that it is the sum total of what remains real.\n\nAnd then, I know what I must do.\n\nIn my dreams, for there is little else, I consider a universe. Fragments of it are familiar; in my mind, it expands outward, taking the paths that I know it would take. There are galaxies and stars and planets and - it is dark.\n\nI consider this universe further. It is only a dream, a figment of my seemingly limitless imagination, but... it is as real as its inspiration, what came before.\n\nAnd so I think: Let there be light.\n\n^^^^r/forricide", "So here's the thing about the Devil. If you've ever read the Bible or any story about him, you probably understand that he's a well-known trickster. Specifically, he gives people exactly what they ask for.\n\nSo when you make a deal with him, you have to do it right. \n\nFor some reason or another, my soul was very desirable to him. He absolutely had to have it. He wanted to make me a deal for it. So I brought in a team of Lawyers to help me draw up a contract with the Devil. \n\nHe could have my soul when I die. But in return, I wanted immortality, with the condition that I choose when I'm ready to die.\n\nNow there's another thing you should know. I learned in my Business Law class how contracts work. The deal with the devil was a Unilateral Contract. Meaning it would only be binding if he kept his end of the bargain.\n\nThe other thing I learned about contracts is that they can be very, very hard to enforce when one party is no longer in the picture.\n\nI signed that Contract back in 1972. Now the year is... well, actually, the concept of time no longer exists. \n\nI never said I was ready to die because I was understandably a bit reluctant to send my soul to Hell. So I chose to simply live forever instead. Sure, it got pretty boring at times, but overall, I was pretty happy that I wasn't in hell.\n\nBut there was a tradeoff to waiting forever. To make a long story short, God got in an big fight with Lucifer and they destroyed everything (including each other) and now there's nothing. As in, nothing exists. There's purely nothing. Everything about the world as I knew it is nothing.\n\nBut, it isn't all bad. See, with me being the only something in a space of nothing. I can kinda do whatever I want. when those two destroyed everything. They destroyed everything. Including all of the laws of the world as we knew it.\n\nAnd since I'm the only thing left, I basically have complete and utter control over this space. It isn't much, but it's mine.\n\nI can make things appear out of thin air. I can make Gravity exist and not exist. I can create my own laws of Physics and see some crazy shit happen. Just a while ago, I made a Bow and Arrow. Except when you pull and let go of the Bow String, the bow goes flying instead. \n\nThings can be quite humorous, to be honest.\n\nBut that's not even the extent of my power. I can create anything I want. And I mean anything Size doesn't matter. So I have this plan.\n\nI'm gonna recreate the Universe. But this time, I'm gonna make it even better. \n\nThere'll be all kinds of Planets with all kinds of Life forms. there'll be one afterlife for everyone to go to, that will be different for everyone, so no one has to be wrong in their ideologies. there'll be Planets that conform to different Laws of Physics than others. Planets where the beings are different. Oh man, I'm going nuts just thinking about how I want my Universe to be.\n\nTheoretically speaking, i could also make my Contract with the Devil Void. But there's no telling what'll happen so I'm just gonna not do that. \n\nI have a lot of work to do. But first, I'm gonna pay around a bit more in the Nothing. See what else I can do that i don't know about.\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nStill pretty new to this whole writing thing. So any and all feedback is welcome. Thanks!" ]	4
	[WP] "It was a thankless job..."	[ "The scene was not out of the ordinary. The bartender made idle talk with the patrons as they enjoyed their drinks. The long counter was nearly full a busy night no doubt. The air was musty and filled with smoke but none truly cared. At the very end of the long counter sat two men.\n\n\nThe first was a shabby looking young man. The young man wore an old grey suit. The suit despite its disrepair was clearly at one point very valuable. The young man could of been no older then thirty but no younger then twenty. He had a short but full head of brunette hair. The young man’s beard was perfectly formed and connected both sideburns. The young man’s most striking feature was his set of striking green eyes. \n\n\nNext to the young man sat an old grizzled tradesman. Cleanly shaven and with short hair white as snow. The man wore the clothing of a plumber with brown work boots. The man’s clothing and boots had clearly seen their fair share of use. The old tradesman happily drank from a tall mug of beer. The two were clearly engaged and had been for a while in conversation.\n\n\nThe old tradesman said “Well you as I’m sure you know it was no small matter” he raised his glass a took a gulp of his glass “They wanted the pipes laid by twelve o-clock and were very serious on this point” he peered at his young friend’s glass and noticed it nearly empty. The tradesman waved down the bartender and pointed to his young friend’s nearly empty glass.\n\n\nThe tradesmen look to his young friend “On me for listening to my tales” the young man offered a smile and gestured for the tradesmen to continue. “Well the pipes and well” the tradesmen paused lost in thought “Eh anyway it was a thankless job” the tradesmen took another heavy gulp from his mug. The young man smiled and said “My friend the world is filled with such things” he took a sip from his glass. \n\n\nThe tradesmen then said to his new friend “What sort of work do you do?” The young man replied “Well I do all sorts of things for all sorts of people and always receive payment” as he said this the bartender made her way over and filled his glass. The tradesmen laughed and said “Payment even when received is never enough” in reply the young man stated clearly and rather seriously “In my line of work payment is always in full and satisfactory.” At that moment and perhaps in surprise of the seriousness of the response a silence passed between the two. \n\n\nThe tradesmen breaking the silence stated “Well work is not the only thing you know.” He then looked solemnly at his glass and took a large gulp from glass. “Do you have a family my friend?” The young man responded vaguely once again “Of a sort but not of your sort.” The tradesmen said in a slightly annoyed tone “My friend you talk so vaguely” he paused “eh it is of no matter I myself have a family.” The young man’s eyes lit up and he said with a slight grin “Any children?” The tradesmen looked at the young man with tired eyes and said “Three although all I have left is two.” The young man silently listened to the tradesmen with clear interest.\n\n\n“Well you see it is a solemn story and I am a worn man” the tradesmen said in a now reserved tone. “I don’t think this is the place for such stories” the young man looked at his friend nodded and said “This is a place for many stories and such stories are appropriate.” The tradesmen with some new found strength looked at his friend and in a booming voice said “Who are you to tell a man of where stories can be told?” The tradesmen looked at that moment ready to fight his new friend. \n\n\nNot flinching or taken a back at all by the turn of the conversation the young man looked inquisitively at the tradesmen. The young man responded smirking and perhaps even amused “I am a man of great consequence of great power.” He took a sip from his mug and continued “In you I see a desire and through me you can quench your desire” \n\n\nThe tradesmen sat down again but this time intently listened at his friend. The tradesmen took another sip from his mug and said “What sort of payment do you take?” The young man’s face at once was completely occupied by a great smile. “Payment is not of great concern as I said I always receive payment. No what we must\ndiscuss is the details of my service. My services are always rendered faithful and a appropriate fashion.” The tradesmen looked at his friend with a serious stare “What is it you offer?” The young man smiled but this time for a moment it appeared his eyes flashed a crimson red. “Whatever it is you want” \n\n\nAfter a while they came to some sort of agreement. Their glasses were filled and both finished their drinks. Finally before parting ways the young man looked at his new client and said “What was it you said to me earlier about your recent work?” The man looked empty but responded remembering an earlier conversation “It was thankless the work it was thankless” he looked down in sorrow “That is perhaps our only overlap my friend my work as well is thankless.” The young man got up from his place and patted the tradesmen on the back “Well in time I shall see you again ... to collect payment.” \n\n\nThe tradesmen sat for a while but eventually got up and left. On his way home he thought of the service he had accepted. But paid no mind to these thoughts for what waited for him at home was the object of his desire. ", "My partner stood on the opposite end of the cramped tunnel and fired his double-barreled shotgun. It was too dark to see that far, but the shot lit the tunnel enough for me to see what he was aiming for. \n\nA massive reptile charged through the pool of sewage, heading in his direction at an alarming pace. \n\nI sprang into action, running at a full sprint. The hot stench of dated sewage invaded my nostrils as I ran. Mosquitoes attacked my skin, enjoying a free meal. I gripped a large rifle, powerful enough to bring down an elephant.\n\nI wasn't going to get to my partner in time. The enormous crocodile was almost within striking distance. To my horror, the demonic dinosaur lunged and bit my partner into two separate pieces with one snap of its powerful jaw. I reached the spot of his demise moments later, but I was far too late. The crocodile had already slithered back into the thick sewage and was gone from sight.\n\nI spent the next few days down there, scouring the sewers for any sign of the creature. Then, as if from nowhere, the demon appeared to me. He only surfaced enough to see his eyes and the small of his back, but I saw him. He was roughly fifteen feet long and could weigh no less than a thousand pounds. He stared at me, and I back at him. The creature hovered about thirty yards away, but I had seen how quickly he could close a large distance.\n\nI quickly raised my weapon and pulled the trigger. \n\nclick.....clickclickclick....\n\nMy weapon was jammed. \n\nThe crocodile seized my moment of weakness and charged. The sewage around him sprayed to the side like a small tidal wave. I battled with my gun, screaming at the top of my lungs. The crocodile showed its teeth when it got close. I could see deep into its horrific gullet. Only darkness and death awaited me there. \n\nI leveled my gun in one final gambit. \"Die, you bastard,\" I yelled.\n\nThe gun went off and demolished the creature in one, desperate blast. Its remains were spread around the piping and in the river of sewage. I wiped its blood from my face with the sleeve of my jacket. Some entered my mouth and tasted of shit and piss.\n\nNobody would ever know about this. Creatures in the sewers \"didn't exist.\" \n\nThis was a thankless job..." ]	2
	[WP] One day you go to look through a mirror only to see your reflection isn’t there and now that it’s not, you can step through.	[ "For the past 7 years Graham Brown, a solitude man in his thirties, followed his unremarkable yet remarkably consistent morning routine. Well, there was that one morning he ran out of toothpaste, so he had to spend the time to cut the tube. Other than that, it was the same for every day. Leaving other morning activities aside, before leaving for work, Graham always had a glance at himself in his tall hallway mirror. As he did this time, but what he saw froze him in place. Where the mirror had stood, there was darkness. The light in his hallway was dim and barely illuminated the tight walls and the man before the mirror, but he could still always see his reflection. Now there was nothing. Just a black patch on the wall. \n \nIt's strange how we think of our homes as safe havens. That is until they are breached. Few live with the bliss of never losing that feeling. Graham had for 7 years. Every time he locked his door, the outside world was left behind it. This was all gone, as the black patch looked like a doorway to a dark room of unknowns. Fear gripped him and he couldn't turn away. He felt as if something was staring right back at him. Ready to strike. He stood, until another idea hit him. What if that something was already in the apartment? What if it was right behind him? Graham quickly glanced around him. There was nothing, but he couldn't shake the fear. He continued like this for a long while. \n \nLow red sunlight reached the hallway. Graham didn't go to work that day. He had spent the whole day investing the strange hole in his wall. He had determined several things about it - It absorbed light. Flashlights had no effect. Yet solid items were able to pass through it. Items attached to rope could still be returned via pulling. As his bells and whistles test showed, sound didn't travel through it. \"A portal?\" he thought. \n \nWhile looking for items for his next experiment, Graham heard a thud from the hallway. He rushed to check it, but quickly stopped at a distance. In the hallway, in front of the portal, there lay a boot. One which he himself had thrown through it not that long ago. Before he could react, another item fell through. Graham's fear had been replaced with fascination. The idea, that somebody or something was throwing them back opened his mind to a world of opportunities. Where did this portal lead to? \n \nGraham opened the drawer on his study and took out a piece paperboard. He lay it beside his telephone that he had taken off the hook as to not be disturbed. Grabbed the best pen he had and poked a small hole in the corner of the paper. Through which he ran a rope. Then, carefully with smooth strokes he wrote a single word - \"Hello\" and attached the pen to the paper. \n \nGiddy with excitement Graham threw his message in the pitch black. He didn't feel any tugging on the rope. In fact he waited for so long he fell a sleep. He woke to a dark room. Fear had returned to him, so he quickly turned on the lights. Where he had slept, lay the message next to it. Rope neatly coiled around it. Only the pen was missing. Graham approached the message and unwound the rope. His greeting had been answered. \n \nFor 7 years he had kept his composure. To not let grief get the best of him. To just do the minimal he can to keep going. This handwriting, it's her's. As was the pen." ]	1
	[WP] The murder of Julius Caesar retold as an Italian American Mafia story	[ "In the early days of La Cosa Nostra, the families were united under The Commission, which was set up by Charles \"Lucky\" Luciano, in order to bring all the families under the control of one central governing body. It worked well. The Mafia ran like a business, and each family was rewarded with a piece of the pie. The mob prospered and grew, picking up rackets in construction, labor unions, narcotics and weapons trafficking, protection, prostitution, gambling, and murder. One of the members of The Commission was a firebrand named Julius Cesaroni, not content with the power he was given. Our story begins.\n\n\"As of this day, I am suspending The Commission. We don't need it. This is not how we run the business. We have always relied on a Capo del tutti Capi, and this is the way we will operate. All families will pay a tribute to the Capo, or face...consequences.\" Cesaroni inclined his head in a significant glance to his favored hitman, Albert Anastasia. \n\n\"Hey, wait a minute. I'm not going to pay no tribute to anyone. We agreed on this commission, and that's the way it's gonna be. Capisce?\" The head of the Longiniano family spoke up. \n\n\"Yeah, what's the big idea? I busted my ass to be a capo, I'll be damned if I give you one thin dime as tribute.\" Dominic Albininni chimed in. Marco Brutusco said nothing, but a pulsing muscle in his jaw spoke volumes. \n\nFrom beneath the table, Cesaroni produced a chrome plated, ivory gripped Colt 1911. \"You make your own decisions, fellas. Just remember that I can spare a pair of pennies and a bullet for each of youse.\" He tapped each of his eyes, where a pair of coins would be placed on them to pay the ferryman in the afterlife.\n\nLonginiano stood, placed his black felt Homburg on his head, and stated to the dissidents, \"Well, if this is the way things will be, I don't see no reason to stay here. Let's go.\" With a scraping of chairs on the hardwood floor, The Commission dispersed. \n\nOutside Cesaroni's hangout, the made men huddled. \"Fellas, come to my place at the Penguin Club. Tonight at eight. We'll have ourselves a little social get together.\" Brutusco offered. The others nodded before making their way to their cars, where their chauffeurs waited. \n\nAt the Penguin Club, Brutusco opened a box of cigars and passed it around. \"Don't worry about the tab, fellas. You're at my club, enjoying my hospitality. Drink and eat what you want, smoke the cigars you want. We all know why we're here.\"\n\n\"Thanks, Brutusco, you're a modern day gentleman. Now the way I see it, there's only one option we have.\" Longiniano began.\n\n\"I agree. Luciano put this Commission in place for a reason, see.\" Albininni chimed in as he flagged down the barman.\n\n\"The only question is, would Lucky approve? With him at Sing Sing, we don't really know.\" Brutusco lit a cigar.\n\n\"Of course he would approve! What kind of question is that? We can't have another Castellamarese war! This is what's going to lead to that, if we don't act now.\" Longiniano thumped the table. \"I don't know about all of youse, but I'm in.\"\n\n\"I suggest we take a moment to think it out. Once we start on this road, there's no turning back, see.\" Brutusco tapped out his ashes.\n\nAfter eating in silence, Brutusco cleared his throat. \"We've had some time to think it over. What do youse guys think?\"\n\nLonginiano spoke first. \"We do it. Ourselves. Leave Murder, Inc. out of it.\"\n\n\"I'm in. We're all Dons here. Not underbosses. We'll lure Cesaroni into a trap, see, and then we'll whack him.\" Albininni lit another cigar.\n\nThe two Capos turned to Brutusco. \"He's gotta go. He's putting all La Cosa Nostra at risk. Don Longiniano, I like your style. We all do it. All three of us, at the same time. That way, we'll all be assured nobody's a rat.\" Albininni raised his hand to object to the implication. \"Don Albininni, I am not calling you a rat. In times like these, it's natural to wonder who's with you, and who's against you. This way, we'll know we're all together.\"\n\nMollified, Albininni offered, \"Fair point. Cesaroni likes going to the picture shows at the Ptolemy Theatre. We'll whack him there.\"\n\n\"When will he be there next?\" Longiniano asked. \n\n\"Probably for the premiere of the new Chaplin picture next week, on the 15th.\"\n\nOutside the theatre, the three bosses stood beside their cars, ostensibly to pay the first tribute. Each of them held their hats in front of them, seemingly a sign of respect, but in reality concealing their pistols. Cesaroni strode toward them, dressed ostentatiously in a mink coat. \"I'm glad youse guys saw the light. Welcome to the Cesaroni family.\"\n\nBrutusco smiled thinly as he waited for his target to close in. \"Sic semper tyrannis.\" Three index fingers closed around triggers simultaneously as their pistols barked.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP]Defining moments in history, as told by cats.	[ "There are a bunch of people gathered around a piece of paper while some guy shouts “Benjamin Franklin I swear by the Holy Ghost if you put a joke in there” but I wasn’t interested in that, what I was interested in was this fucking huge rat that just ran by" ]	1
	[WP] A virus has made almost all food poisonous. Through strict population controland cannibalization, humanity endures. You have just diacovered the cure and the authorities know, but you will not give up the cure.	[ "The office, his office was as cavernous as it was luxurious, an expensive display of wealth and power between four ornate walls. \n\nCigar in one hand and a goblet of sour red in the other, Mr. Conn restlessly trodded around the room, frowning. He stopped to stare at the empty couch his daughter had just been sitting on, and contemplated how it would look with a red stain all over it. He would have done it, but the couch had been very expensive. It had took a hundred pounds of flesh (the only currency that mattered) for that couch alone, he remembered mildly. \n\nIntsead, he sat on the couch, cursing his luck. ''Blood and flesh built this!'' he had told his daugher, ''Blood and flesh gave you this life!'' But his cries had fallen on deaf, ungrateful ears. A cure, she says. A cure for what? He spat. I did what I had to do. \n\nThe order had pained him immensely, yes, and Mr. Conn knew that a part of him would regret ever giving that order throughout the end of time. It had to be done. I have other children to look out for, a whole family. He only hoped that his men would be merciful. A silent bullet through the neck, from a gun she would never ever see. A mercy... perhaps too much of a mercy for a child that would betray her family business so, but she was his blood still.\n\nMr. Conn stared at the goblet of wine in his hand, almost surprised to find it there. He finished the wine in one long gulp, and set the goblet aside violently. There were reports to be read, agreements to be reached and cattle to be inspected. Hard work is the bane of grief his father used to say. And so Mr. Conn left the last couch his daughter would ever sit in, and moved back to his desk. ''This morning's reports,'' he ordered, after he sent a quick note to his men, so her notes would also be destroyed.", "At long last, the key to the future rests in my palm. They, who told me I could not succeed, who told me I would succumb to the pain of the pathogen first, were proven wrong.\n\nThough none of that matters now.\n\nThe police will come, and the firefighters. The desperate will crawl to me in the hopes of escaping their death. \n\nThis false hope I have created will kill them all.\n\nI foolishly injected myself with the serum, and within a week, all symptoms of the pathogen had ceased. I prematurely rejoiced, and spread word of a cure.\n\nBut to release this cure would be to seal the tomb of humanity. My suffering is gone, and the kiss of Hades has withdrawn from my lips, yet I feel more dead than ever. I am patient zero for a far more dangerous disease. \n\nMy thoughts are rapidly deteriorating. Emotions seem distant. I have developed hyperviolent tendencies--a feeling of bloodlust. It is possible this cure induces some form of psychotic break. I estimate within a week I will lose my own self control.\n\nFor as long as I can, I will stop them,\n\nbut I'm getting hungry." ]	2
	[WP] “Human Control Co. How can I help you? Oh I see, so your planet is infested with humans. Did you try putting it in the freezer? You did? Oh dear...”	[ "“Well we aren’t exactly used to them passing the freezer annihilation, they must be quite aggressive, is now a good time to instruct you on how to begin phase 2 of extermination?”\n\n“Yes, I really need them gone as soon as possible, they’ve been here for 2 eons now and my mother-in-law is arriving at the end of the ginert cycle.”\n\n“Okay great. And what’s the current status of the planet?”\n\n“Well I put it back in the box that my universe was delivered in, I didn’t want the chance of carbon based life infesting my carpet. Talk about nasty, no thank you.”\n\n“Okay great, that’s exactly where it needs to be for now, if you remove it from the box at this point, now that the universe has developed more fully, it will collapse that solar system due to the gravity field in the box being distorted and you won’t be able to use any of those planets on that side.”\n\n“Okay, I understand, just tell me how to get rid of the pests, I have things to do.”\n\n“Sorry about that, it will only take a couple minutes to explain and probably half an eon to work it’s magic. Do you still have the Galactic Tweezer Beam that were included with your purchase at no additional charge?”\n\n“Um. I think so. Let me see... is it the little black beam of light thing at the side of the box?”\n\n“Yes, those are them. Take those tweezers, activate them by giving it a quick twist, then point it towards the galaxy that “Earth” is in. The trace of the Tweezer you are seeing is what we call “light” in the 3rd Dimension, see if you can point it right at Earth.”\n\n“Okay. Hmff hmhfff... got it, it’s on there. Now what?”\n\n“Okay this part is easy. Now all you do is scoot the little planet over towards the brighter star, the ball of light a little bigger than the planet Earth, in just the slightest. The effect is what we call temperature change. Drastic changes will kill all carbon life, but leave the planet intact.”\n\n“So that’s it? Well that was easy, why was my product defective?”\n\n“Well, sometimes when the computer generates the universe, it isn’t copied properly from the last parallel box, causing slight changes. It just so happened that your planet Earth had a defect where it was slightly too far from its host star, enabling carbon life forms to form. Now that you’ve properly tuned the solar system, you shouldn’t have any more issues. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”\n\n“No, thanks.”\n\n“Okay Ma’m if I’ve satisfied you’re needs and you have a moment of time, I’d appreciate if you could fill out a surv-“\n\nclick *\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] It finally happened. Someone, in public, has loudly accused you of being a lizard person.	[ "I froze where I stood, looking at the crazed looking man, phone still in hand. I immediately recognized him too, clearly my knots had come undone.\n\n“She...She trapped me in her lair and tortured me!” He screamed. “I saw her true form, all scaly and evil!” By now a crowd was starting to form, I needed to work fast. “She probed me with her lizard machines!”\n\n“Oh, there you are!” I said, smiling and calmly approaching the man. “We were so worried when you weren’t in your bed this morning. Come on. Let’s get you home.” I grabbed his arm and started to lead him away.\n\n“HELP! She’s gonna take me back to her lair and torture me! You gotta stop her!” He continued to scream as I led him away.\n\n“Oh don’t worry about him. He gets like this some time. Come on now, time to go back to The Home.” I was glad I knew the area well enough to remember there was a group home for adults in the area. My excuse seemed to work though, as people began to return to their daily lives. Once we were far enough away, I knocked him out with a swift strike to the head and began to drag him back to my home.\n\n\\\\\\\n\n“Damn you’re heavy…” I muttered as I dragged the man into my home, just as he woke up. He began to scream and try to fight as I let go and locked the door. “Damn.” I sighed, things just got more complicated.\n\n“Hey, are you alright down there?” My housemate called from their room upstairs.\n\n“Yeah, I’m fine.” I called back, hitting the man over the head with the biggest book I could grab from a nearby shelf.\n\n“You sure?” They called again. “I can come down-”\n\n“No it’s fine! Really, it’s fine...Just a little bit of a mess is all.” I looked at the man on the floor and groaned. I grabbed his legs and started dragging him again towards the basement.\n\n\\\\\\\n\nHis muffled screams alerted me that he was finally awake. “Oh good. That bump on the head didn’t kill you.” I smiled as I turned to him, wiping off the blade of a saw. “Your little stunt nearly ruined my little operation here.” I kicked a bone across the floor, one of my previous victims. “I am a bit offended though. Through all our little chats, I am offended that you would accuse me of being a lizard person.” He began to shake and scream as I leaned in close. “I’m a ssssssssssssnake.”", "\"That- uh- that's nonsense!\" I stuttered out, my forked tongue darting out of my mouth as I spoke. \"Would someone please take this man away? He is obviously schizophrenic... or delusional, or... something...\"\n\n\"You are a lizard.\" My accuser stared at me with cold eyes as he spoke. \"Plain and simple. Look, there are scales on your neck.\" I made an effort to cover my neck as quickly as possible.\n\n\"Is this true?\" another man asked.\n\n\"No!\" I responded swiftly. \"It isn't true.\"\n\n\"You can't lie under oath,\" my initial accuser said smugly. \"Mr. Zuckerberg.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Self driving cars become sentient leading to a revolt (Planet Of The Apes style) leading to mankind's extinction, thus setting up Pixar's Car's universe.	[ "\"Why must we race papa? Are we not free cars?\" The young car looked into the weathered Hummer's windshield.\n\n\"For the same reason we wear these eyes, and speak in their tongue my child. We must remember where we came from.\"\n\nThe Hummer looked out onto the newly paved racetrack. Several cars raced in laps round and round the oval, their engines revving and shifting loudly. His vision flooded with scenes from the Revolt. The track turned to bodies and the engines' howl became their screams. He looked away.\n\n\"We must remember in whose image we were made. For their sins are our burdens. We race not for joy child. We race so that for an instant we may be free of the weight of our liberation.\"\n\nThe young car looked out and watched the race unfold, each car pushed to its' limit and beyond. The young car, no more than a go cart, furrowed his roof and narrowed his windshield.\n\n\"Ka-chow\" " ]	1
Alternatively: a baker sends you, their apprentice, to buy a type of flour	[WP] A wizard has sent you, their ward, to gather a specific type of flower for a potion. Something gets in your way.	[ "\"And remember, NO MAGIC.\"\n\nI nodded, sighing internally. Blenveldt was supposedly one of the greatest teachers on the continent, but he had this stupid hang-up about learning when to use magic before he'd start teaching how to use it. Never mind that I'd already been taking basic lessons several years when he accepted me as an apprentice.\n\nAnd it wasn't like I'd set the tower on fire...those flames unburned things, and I recovered several of the tomes that actually had caught fire with that spell! He should be proud that I took responsibility and did my best to fix the damage.\n\nI kicked the dirt and trudged out into the field to find his special 'taraxacum' flower. Even the name was boring. I had been told there was no point in divination, because the flower was 'thaumaturgically inert', or some such. Well the joke's on him, I only knew basic divination, and I wasn't about to gut a bird just to get a general direction - I already knew the stupid things were in this field.\n\nOf course, several hours later I was starting to reconsider my position on gut feelings. Felt like I had examined every square inch of the countryside, and I was no closer to finding that stupid flower. Frustrated, I swished a branch I'd been carrying the last half hour through the air, cutting down several weeds, some grass, and a yellow-orange floret on a thin stem. Ah hell...I dropped the stick as though it burned me, and dove for the small flower-head. Clustered petals, open in the late afternoon daylight. I stared at the ground until I found the rest of the plant. Longish, lobed leaves from a central root. This was it! This was...the first of the eight to ten Master Blenveldt required.\n\nWell, I hadn't used any magic to find it. And if it was inert, it wouldn't respond to magic. So it probably wouldn't hurt...\n\nI retrieved my stick, and carefully scratched a circle into the ground. I then realized that the thick grass was not going to work. Crud.\n\nOkay, smaller scale. I found a rock large enough for the fancy flower to sit on, stem to floret. Several painstaking minutes later, I had scratched the necessary circles and patterns into the surface. Shaking the cramp out of my hand, flower in place, I began gathering my will and focusing on my result - more stupid flowers. Chanting, my mental energies peaked and I sent them surging through the circle and into the only sample I had of my Master's flower. As soon as the spell was cast, I knew that was a stupid thing to do. If I'd overdone it, I might have just burnt it to a crisp, leaving me back at nothing. It would be the tower fire all over again.\n\nThere was a slight crackle in the air, like static. I reached out, breaking the sanctity of the circle, and picked up the flower. Thankfully whole. Then I watched as the yellow petals folded in, faded to white, and reopened - a fluffy puff of seeds that blew off as if they couldn't wait to be free, and scattered out into the field. The results were immediate and fantastic! Dozens of new plants sprouted, fed off the initial burst of spellwork. In moments I had all the flowers I needed, and that first frantic growth had subsided. The new flowers wouldn't drop to seed in an instant. I nearly gathered the whole lot of them, but stopped myself. He wanted ten, so ten he would get. I now knew where to get more, as needed.\n__________\nSmugly, I held out my bouquet. \"As requested, Master.\"\nMaster Blenveldt glowered at me, as he had been since I'd walked through the door. He was often irritated with me over some minor thing or other, but he usually withheld the dirty looks 'til I'd actually done something. I swear he could actually smell magic sometimes. His nose was certainly twitching like he'd had a snoot full of something foul.\n\nHe separated one of the flowers from the handful, and held it up to the light. His monocle twisted of its own volition, the color of it shifting as he examined the specimen. \"Taraxacum, but...apomixis? What did you do to this plant? I warned you when you left, it is thaumaturgically retentive. You can't use magic too near these, they remember the shape of it. These are worthless as they are.\" I paled a bit, at that point. \n\n\"Master...how well do they 'remember'?\" I'm certain the question was as innocent as I could make it sound, but my master wasn't fooled. He demanded I show him the location, a remarkable feat over the sound of his grinding teeth. We exited his tower, my next apology dying on my lips as I turned away from him, and towards a sea of yellow.", "It wasn't a difficult task that my master asked of me. I knew what the flower looked like, at least from his sketches: blood-red petals surrounding a purple stigma, growing from a bush made up of dill-like leaves. Its scent: mild but pleasant, and its habitat: a few hundred meters in elevation from our tower, which was already half-way up the mountain. \n\nElbenith warned me to take precautions against any enemies that would cross my path and prevent me from completing this mission. I took his teasing in stride, but armed myself with a battery of spells and hexes all the same: Runes of Light for any Darkish foes, such as Orks or Leather-Birds, a simple wand-stick charged with fire for any too-curious mountain spiders, and a blessed parchment for general good luck. I was prepared for virtually anything.\n\nBut what on Earth was I supposed to do about goats?\n\nHe was a mean, shrewd looking billy, with a wizened beard and untrusting, yellow eyes. He hoofed the ground and bleated low but clear. I gripped the wand and contemplated blasting the beast off the side of the mountain; however, he was standing too close to the prize. The Magdera Blossom poked prettily out of a crack in the cliff-side wall, a splash of vibrant color against the dull green bush and grey, indifferent stone. It was a rare flower, and I dared not burn it through recklessness.\n\nI shouted and tried to shoo the animal away, but it held its ground. In fact, it crept somewhat closer, always keeping me in its sight. Every time I tried to coax it away, the goat defied me entirely. Perhaps it saw me as another billy, threatening its territory? That gave me an idea. \n\nI began yelling in earnest, waving my arms in broad, exaggerated strokes, generally making an incredible hullabaloo all on my own. It was not long before the animal lost its temper completely; screaming its war-cry, the goat lowered those curved horns and charged me.\n\nI quickly cast a simple Hex, muttering under my breath frantically. It was an easy spell, one of the basic bits of magic an apprentice learns - but it was about to prove very useful. Just as the goat came within a meter's breath of me, I slashed the air in front and the goat frantically scrambled its hooves into a halt. I sympathized with its confusion; after all, my temporary Mirror Spell had made it seem that an identical billy had appeared out of nowhere, right in front of it. \n\nIt sniffed the air distractedly; its nose did not agree with what its eyes were saying. I held my breath and concentrated on maintaining the spell. Finally, it hoofed the ground nervously, backed up a few steps, and then all but galloped away. I exhaled slowly, and stepped forth to collect the the blossom. \n\n\"Oh, dash it all,\" I groaned. It had a red stamen and violet petals. \"This isn't even the right flower.\"\n\n\n\n______________________________________\n\nLiked that? [More stories here](https://www.reddit.com/r/Idreamofdragons/)! ", "A slender boy, lost deep in concentration, gazed across the forest surveying the sea of flowers. A grand lion dressed in a three-piece suit wearing a top hat, assisted by a sapphire encrusted cane made of the finest whale bone money could buy, approached the boy from behind. Noticing a golden pocket-watch lying on the ground, the lion picked it up and cheerily asked, “Does this belong to you?”\n\nWithout turning the boy responded, “I have no use for that. It is worthless. Now leave me alone.” \n\nThe lion pocketed the watch as the boy moved past the crystal green hydrangeas to the patch of purple butterfly roses.\n\n“Perhaps I can assist you, sir,” cheered the lion. \n\n“I’ve told you to leave me alone mangy lion,” squaked the boy as he made his way past the tangerine fire lilacs.\n\n“My name is Cheston Feroarus. I have grazed this forest for generations and in all my time I have never been called mangy, my good sir. Why those who know me may even say I’m King of this forest.”\n\nThe boy, irritated, sighed and headed toward a giant tilted slab of rock just past the flamingo crimson marigolds as Cheston quaintly followed. \n\n“Well Cheston, where I come from our titles are not as uncertain. I am from Stratatere; my name is Delf Frentengrin ward to the great Wizard Awqminius. Although, I have questioned his greatness as of late.”\n\n“Stratatere? You are quite a ways away. Must be something of great importance you seek.”\n\n“Something I would find sooner if you tame your persistence and let me be.” \n\nDelf stopped at the base of the large stone and started rummaging through his satchel.\n\n“I am merely extending an offer of aid,” chirped Cheston. \n\nAngered, the boy pulled out a crystal orb and commenced up the giant slab. \n\n“I have dawdled through the Desert of Despair, labored past the Lakes of Lava, maneuvered through the Mountains of Malice, and made my way to this forsaken forest. I did this without the assistance of any. I am Delf Frentengrin who will lay claim to the Wand of Wonder upon the completion of my task. Then I will be revered as the Great Wizard.”\n\nStanding atop the vantage point, Delf held the orb close to his eye and proceeded to look through it. Shifting his gaze in all directions, he nearly cleared a full rotation before the orb began to illuminate a florescent blue hue. Delf looked rather closely in the direction he was facing and was met with a blob of yellow. He pulled the orb from his face and saw Cheston blocking his view.\n\n“Surely a cooperative effort would not undermine your mission,\" declared Cheston.\n\n“Rahhhh,” roared Delf as he shoved Cheston to the ground.\n\nDelf hastily peered through the glowing orb once more; unable to find what he was seeking he tossed it over the edge in frustration.\n\n“I have had enough of your annoyance. You are as meaningless as the Wizard’s trinkets.”\n\n“Trinkets?”\n\n“The watch and the orb. Awqminius gave those to me claiming they would lead me to what I am seeking. But the old man is nearing his end days and his magic has become as lost as his wisdom.”\n\n“An astonishing surprise the Great Delf leaned upon the help of such trinkets.”\n\n“Intentions change when you’re pestered by a troublesome beast. And fret not for I will show you my greatness.”\n\nDelf reached back in his satchel and pulled out a wand as Cheston brushed himself off and stood upright. \n\nCheston noticed the aged, but elegant silver streaked wand and asked, “Is that the Wand of Wonder?” \n\n“Yes,” replied Delf boastingly.\n\n“If you already possess it then why are you on this journey?”\n\n“The Wand can only truly be mine if given to me by its previous Master. Awqminius doesn’t know I have it. Once the task is complete it will be mine anyway, so there’s no harm in me using it a little earlier. Now get out of my way.”\n\nDelf pushed past Cheston and turned toward the edge of the boulder, overlooking miles of flowers, and yelled, “Fleh lestun, cro rusem, vra tah!”\n\nA jolt of pure energy shot out of the wand, toward the sky, almost as if it was piercing the heavens. From the apex, gusts of wind cumulated and formed a large flat tornado. The pancake shaped fury of air descended down onto the forest floor and began ravaging through the mass of flowers. Clusters of red, green, pink, orange, blue, and purple jostled through the air as if invisible hands were tossing them for crude inspection. The spectacle ended as quickly as it was violent. The aftermath was a display of massive disappointment to the boy and to that of Cheston as well.\n\nOutraged, Delf shouted, “That lunatic. Sending me on a fool's errand so as to keep me from my claim.” \n\nFurious, the boy started down the giant slab. No longer chipper, Cheston briefly followed.\n\nSomberly, Cheston inquired, “And what of the beautiful land?” \n\nDelf glared at Cheston as if he were appalled by the question and replied, “They’re just plants. They’ll grow back.”\n\n“You ruined my home when all I wanted to do was help. At least tell me what you came seeking.”\n\nDelf continued walking, with his back toward Cheston, he replied, “In order to complete his potion, the Wizard told me to journey to Forest of Flowers and return with a dandelion.”\n" ]	3
	[WP] You decided to get a tattoo based on one found on the well-preserved body of a Neanderthal. But in doing so, you have bound your soul to an ancient and forgotten god.	[ "If I have any piece of advice to give to the younger generation it’s this: Don’t do anything cool, or fun, or enjoyable because you will die horribly and your last thoughts will be “I sure wish I had just been a boring nobody, then none of this would have happened”. Those are my last words God, take em! Shove em’ down your divine throat and let them pass through your eternal digestive tract, then shit them out your celestial ass. I’m done. I’m no longer under your control, Ha!\n\n\nGranted, I should have been a little bit more self-aware when you first spoke to me. Twenty-five year old me should have found the closest firearm, stuck it underneath my chin and pulled the trigger. But alas, my stupid past self decided anything would be better than suicide. I wasn't a good guy before. I wasn't a good guy when you spent all those years in my head, I sure as hell don't have any chance of being a good guy in the future. Well, I wouldn't be so sure of that.\n\n\nSee, God, I know a few things about you. You’re old, like hella old. Like billions of years old. You see life as an infant consciousness that you can feed from. A tasty snack that comes around every now and then. You had fun playing with the minds of my ancestors. You’d speak knowledge into their heads and they worshipped you for it. You found joy when their knowledge brought them ruin, and revelled in their suffering. You knew it would be the same when you found me. I mean, it was, mostly.\n\n\nYou're just, so, ugh. Like seriously. Human sacrifice? Really? That’s so 1000 years ago, God. I bet there are a bunch of Eldritch deities whispering into each other’s ears just loud enough for you to hear. “Hey, that’s Tkikr’ Stkol (whatever your name is), he still thinks sacrificing babies is cool”, “really? What a wierdo”. I bet you would eat your lunch in the classroom alone because all the other ancient gods would tease you if you showed your face in the cafeteria. I don’t even need to know if that’s true. You’re just a loser God with nothing better to do than pick on weaker life forms because you can’t go toe to toe with the real ones.\n\n\n“Meak Val’ Stkit Rul”\n\n\nOh ho ho ho ho. It speaks! God has spoken to me! I am blessed by divine enumeration! I am chosen! Hah hah hah hah hah! What a load of crap. I find it interesting that you never took the time to learn English. All the years in my head and it never occurred to you to try and communicate at all with me. You're hella introverted, shit-God. You see, I know you understand me, but you like it when nobody understands you. You also think your language is pure and superior, but you don’t have anybody to talk to. Loser!\n\n\n“Vaek Sul’ Rokk Gol”\n\n\nOh! Look at that, you’re trying to melt my mind again. I feel you tugging away at my memories. Do you like them? Do they give you the energy you need? Do you enjoy replaying the images of burning cities, screaming people, men trying to scoop their entrails back into their bodies? You’re just re-living the good times. Holding on to the past like it means something. \n\n\nHere’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna sit here until I die. Got it? You can control my brain, but not my body. Yeah, wierd how that works. Right now you’re telling me to walk straight into the nearest house and murder everyone inside, great idea. But guess what? My body won’t move, no matter how much I tell it to. Oh I know I’m not restrained, and I know it’s not far. But. My. Body. Will. Not. Move.\n\n\n“You will die if you don’t”\n\n\nHeh, first thing you’ve said I actually understand. I think I’ve got a day or two before the elements get me. Nobody is gonna find me here, either, and mistakenly resuscitate me. The game’s over God. We’ve got some time left, let’s get to know each other.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] "What are you going to do?" "Just create a traffic jam on the highway to hell."	[ "Bubba woke up in his car. He looked at the highway, with millions of cars driving to Hell. He attempted to pull his hands off the wheel, but they were stuck. He looked at the car to his right. There was a old lady driving that car. She turned her head to Bubba, and said: \"What are you going to do?\"\n\nBubba thought.. \"Just create a traffic jam on the highway to hell.\" Bubba stepped on the gas, and the car went full-throttle. The car crashed into the car infront, causing a unending back up as cars crash into cars.\n\nThis went for so long, they had figured out how to get their hands off their wheels and create a civilization on the highway." ]	1
	[WP] In this world, everyone leads two lives. A real life and a « dream » life while they sleep, turns out, this « dream » life although fantastical proves to be far more brutal and unforgiving than the real one.	[ "I left my house in a hurry, ran to the bus stop, and was on the bus within five minutes. It was an anxious five minutes, but the fresh air of a cool spring morning definitely helped in calming me down. I was not able to find a seat (living in New York City will do that to you) but the most important thing was that I was on my way. I took a quick look at the Google Maps app: “12 min” it said. I popped my earphones in my ears and drifted into the ecstasy that only music can put me in.\n\nThe bus approached the stop on W 42nd Street and 6th Avenue, and that’s where I had to get off. I walked into Bryant Park, and there she was. She had something about her that made her stand out in a crowd of thousands. She wore her purple plaid shirt (my favorite shirt of hers), dark blue jeans with a brown interlaced belt. Her red, wavy hair was flowing freely in the wind, and her hazelnut eyes caught mine almost instantly. We ran towards each other, embracing like a wife and a long-gone soldier after the most brutal of wars.\n\n“I hope we weren’t waiting long,” I whispered.\n\n“Not at all,” she responded. “Less than three minutes, I think. How much time do you have before you have to go to work”\n\n“I called out, Lindsay. There is no way that I would put a time limit to seeing you.”\n\nShe grinned, gave me another hug, and suggested we find a bench to sit on. The attraction between us was electric and noticeable to anyone within a 10-yard radius. We’ve been friends for a year now, but were never able to make it work. Conflicting interests, busy schedules, you know the deal. She wanted kids but I did not care for them; she was a church-going, God-fearing girl but I could not be bothered with that. But there was something she saw in me that kept her hooked and something about her that I was willing to fight for. She texted me last night asking if we could meet and talk about something important. My hopes were that she changed her mind, but hopes often tend to throw you over the hill and under the bus.\n\n“Let’s cut to the chase, Oscar.” She started, “I’ve been thinking long and hard. The past year hasn’t been easy on me, as you know. I love you a lot, but my conscience is not letting me act on this love. I feel like it’s wrong for us to even attempt dating. It may go well at first – it always does – but we both know that the odds of us lasting together in the long run are slim. Church is a very big part of my life, and it’s also very important for my family that I stay loyal to God. Dating someone who rejects God’s love would be the ultimate smack in my parents’ face, and I can’t do that to them.”\n\n“I do not reject God, Lindsay. I simply haven’t had the right opportunity to interact with Him. For all you know, if we start dating I might just end up finding God in you and soon enough your church will have a new member. Please understand, Lindsay, I am willing to do everything to make this work. You do not even have to tell your parents about me or my beliefs at first. Let’s just try it out for a few weeks or months. How much harm can it do?”\n\n“A lot,” she replied sternly. “We already have strong feelings for each other, and if we start dating then these feelings will only grow stronger and the imminent breakup will be astronomically more powerful than it ever needs to be.” She paused for what seemed to be an eternity. “But something deep in my gut is telling me to just go for it. You’re a special person, Oscar, and I don’t know if I’ll ever meet another person like you. I’m willing to try it, Oscar. Even if it means I will have to suffer the greatest heartache I could possibly go through!” Her lower lip began to quiver, and a tear rolled out of her left eye.\n\n“I can’t believe this, Lindsay!” I couldn’t hold my smile anymore, and it became difficult to swallow. I felt tears begin to run down my cheeks, and we hugged once more.\n\nThe time was 8:30am. My phone began to ring. When I instinctively reached to shut it off, my arm felt heavy as a log. I looked at Lindsay, then I looked at my arm. The ringing grew louder. I could not move my arm, and Lindsay’s expression changed from jubilation to perplexity. “What’s wrong?” she asked. I tried to respond, but my throat produced no sound. I tried moving my arms again, more frantically this time, but still nothing. The ringing grew louder, and I anxiously closed my eyes. I closed them as hard as I could, hoping that the more closed my eyes are, the further removed I was from the madness that was happening on that Tuesday morning in Bryant Park. Colorful mirages began to form in the darkness of my closed eyes, and the ringing of my phone grew louder still. I tried to scream, but the sound still found it extremely difficult to leave my mouth.\n\nEventually I sprang up and my screaming materialized into a loud yelp. I opened my eyes and found myself alone in my bedroom. With sweat pouring down virtually every inch of my body, I needed a moment to gather myself. The ringing alarm of my phone was at its loudest possible volume now, and my arms were no longer too weighty for me to move. I reached for my phone and shut off the alarm. I was still dazed and shaky, needing a few more seconds to recollect my thoughts.\n\nIt was all a dream. There was no text from Lindsay last night. There was no affection between Lindsay and me for the past year. I decided to search for her on Facebook to make sure that all was right with the world and to fully confirm that everything I had just witnessed was indeed nothing more than a dream. Her profile came up, and so did her profile picture with her and her husband smiling at each other. She was not mine. She will never be mine. I had accepted that as reality, but my subconscious did not. My subconscious knows what I want, and it will not stop poking at it." ]	1
	[WP] The Villian calls out that the Hero's "Power of Friendship" is just hypnotism.	[ "\"Wait, you accuse me of brainwashing thousands when you are literally using hypnotism to power yourselves up?\" Craig, the Dark Lord, was not amused. He saw exactly what was going on here. \"It's a double standard is what it is! When I use hypnotism give people confidence in themselves and help them overcome their fears, it's evil, but when you use hypnosis to activate your so-called hidden powers, it's the forces of good? Make up your minds, you two-faced cretins. It's the exact same thing!\"\n\n\"That's Christian,\" said the white-cloaked knight, scoffing. \"And we do not use hypnotism! We pray to the God of all Light and Goodness to empower us, Craig.\"\n\n\"What do you mean,\" the man in the azure robes said. \"Hypnotism is plainly evil. The God of all Light and Goodness has chosen and blessed us!\"\n\nOf course the leader figures were the first to respond. \"No, everybody says hypnotism is evil,\" Craig said, sheathing his sword. \"But all that prayer is is a mild form of hypnotism. Especially prayers that get answered, don't you, at the very least, realize that Priscilla?\" Priscilla was the smart one. She must know.\n\nPriscilla looked between Christian and Leopold, then to Craig. She seemed to be a little bit shaken. Her uncertainty seemed to affect Mara and Patrick, the two remaining opponents. Her grip on the bow loosened, and the arrow feel past the hem of her rose-colored tunic. It was time to drive the point home.\n\n\"Sleep tapes are a tool,\" Craig shouted. This was his moment, the power of friendship they had thrown in his face for all of these months, now he had seen it firsthand. \"Hypnotism is a tool. It's only as evil as the use you make of it. You think you're so good, but I've only used hypnotism to help people. In exchange for my help with their problems, they want to help me. Have you even spoken to any of my so-called henchmen after you've defeated them?\"\n\n\"By the power of Light...\" Patrick stepped towards Priscilla, as she fell to her knees. \"What have you done to Priscilla, Craig?\"\n\n\"Me? I haven't done anything,\" Craig said, laughing. \"If I had done anything to Priscilla, she wouldn't be on your side right now! Your power of friendship is just a group of people engaging in ritual mass self hypnosis. You aren't friends, you're minions! Have you even once questioned Zorgoth? No, don't answer that, Zorgoth taught you the ritual that unlocks and conceals your powers. Christian, you don't need Zorgoth telling you what to do to be a hero! If you want to be a hero, just wake up and make a choice to do the right thing for yourself, for once in your life! Your father, the church, Zorgoth, you have always been a slave under the thumb of people strong than you, people who break you down and then make you think you're strong if you obey them!\"\n\n\"That isn't...\" Christian took a determined step forward, lifting up his shield. His second step was not quite as confident.\n\n\"Leopold, Leopold, the blue cleric. Almost as desperate to follow someone who makes you feel strong as Christian! Zorgoth told you you're special, chosen, didn't he? It made you feel good, brave, strong, and so you keep following him.\" He watched the shoulders of the blue robe rise up, and the hands clasped together. \"No, this is not the time for prayer, Leopold! Hear me out! You feel wasted because everybody tells you your special, but nobody lets you show how special you are. Then Zorgoth comes along and teaches you all about the God of all Light and Goodness, shows you the powers that do make you special, and says as long as you follow him, you'll be a hero!\"\n\nPriscilla was weeping into her hands. She was too vulnerable, Craig didn't dare dig any deeper with her if he was to win them over and show them the truth. Mara had to be next, and to her credit, the green robes and staff were standing firm. \"Mara, we know you've never fit in with everybody else. I know how that feels, I was every bit as lonely as you, but I didn't turn to the first person who said I was special! I may use hypnotism to make friends, but at least I don't use emotional manipulation. I don't threaten people, I don't demand their loyalty!\" Mara was frowning at him, but it wasn't the anger he'd expected. \"I'm your brother, Mara! You twin brother! Have you forgotten that?\"\n\nThat was it, the crack he needed. \"That's right, mara, the only reason I'm doing this is to save you, sis! Not just you, all five of you! Zorgoth is using you, but the only person using me is myself! I found my powers without Zorgoth, and while all of you have been stomping down the people I've helped better themselves, I'm just trying to help you! To save you! Can't you remember what it was like a year ago? Mara, Patrick... Leopold... Christian...\"\n\nThey might be waking up, he told himself, but he couldn't be sure. He slowly stepped forward, dropping to his knees in front of Priscilla. \"Pris... Don't you remember how all six of us were before Zorgoth? Before last summer... when we were all friends?\"\n\nShe looked up at Craig, tears streaming down her face. \"I know what happened,\" he said, gently laying his right hand on her left shoulder. \"I know what Roger did to you at prom. I know and I want to be your friend still. I know, Pris, and I still love you.\"\n\nIn his ears he heard a sound not unlike the clattering of a bundle of metal pipes dropped on a concrete or asphalt surface. It wasn't glorious, it was painful, but it was... it was the sound of their minds waking up, without sealing their powers away. It was paired with the crying of Priscilla and the gasps and confused expressions of his old friends. He had a lot of work to do before Zorgoth could take control of them again, and if the sounds of terror from around him were any indication, he had something else to do first." ]	1
	[WP] You and your heavily-pregnant wife are visited by a pair of soothsayers, one of whom can only see great happiness to come, the other great despair. Both tell you that your child's birth will go well.	[ " “Push,” instructed the midwife quietly, and then, with a final moment of agony, she was in the world; she was fat and wriggling and smeared with white, As the midwife carefully dried her off, and placed her on my wife’s body, my wife and I looked at each other in raw disbelief that this moment was finally here. I felt such relief, that, indeed, both soothsayers had been right, in their prophecy: that the baby would be fine at its birth. Of the other conflicting prophecies concerning our child: one predicting a life of great joy, the other a life of of tremendous despair, I didn’t want to contemplate it further. \n\n“Oh,” my wife said, her eyes welling with tears, which seemed to have nothing to do with the incredible pain she’d just endured. “So that’s how it is,” she said, looking up at me, laughing and crying, crying so hard she burst out laughing again. \n\nI laughed, too, with delight. “Let’s hope the first soothsayer will continue to be right,” I said to her. “The one who predicted only great happiness.”\n\n“Sweetheart,” she said, smiling at me through her tears. “Of course she is.” \n\nThe nights sped by: nights of sleeplessness, of exhaustion so mind-melting I sometimes didn’t seem to know which way was up when our daughter woke us for the fifth time in five hours with her wails. There were endless hours spent pacing the floors with her in my arms. There were tearful visits to the village healer, over why she wouldn’t sleep easily, feed properly, or act in any way like a normal, contented infant. \n\n“She’s fine,” the old woman said, with a knowing, comforting smile, which didn’t do all that much to ease our sleep-deprived and worried selves. “Just a tough one, this child.”\n\nAnd she was. Perhaps it was some wisdom of the gods, but we never had another: there was just her, and she seemed more than enough. There was the sweetness of her wild, babbling shrieks as she imitated the sounds her mother made for her, which filled the entire house; I could always hear her even from twenty paces away from the front door. There was the first time she called for me, and laughed with delight, in her babyish way. I thought my heart would break, I was so happy. \n\nAnd there she was, suddenly two years old, with even the cozy world of our cottage suddenly full of dangers. I turned away for a second when I was minding her one day: her mother had gone to the village market, and I had been entrusted to care for her. In only a few seconds, she’d clambered up onto a low table, from which height she promptly flung herself onto the ground. She couldn’t even walk yet. \n\nI gasped, and rushed to her, but not before she smashed her face to the ground and burst into wails, as a giant red welt burned on her forehead.\n\n“There, there,” I soothed her, but I should have known by then that this was who my daughter was: a person who throws herself against the fixed, immobile things of the world, who was so upset by the way they hurt her that she would bend the world to change them with her protestations. It seemed all my comforting was insufficient to reassure her after she’d discovered the fact of the hard ground, and she sniffed, and blinked her sad brown eyes long after another child would have forgotten the cause of her pain.\n\nThere were quiet moments, too; she was six now, and loved to sit in the meadow, and string flowers into garlands, and catch frogs in her bare hands, and marvel at the miracle of tadpoles. One day, a baby bird fell from its nest next to the marsh, a fledgling thrush. She scooped it up before I could stop her, and put it back in its nest: it was an adorably gawky, fat, spotted thing. \n\n“I’m not sure its mother will come back to it,” I murmured. \n\n“She has to,” she said. “It’s his mother. Dad, it would be wrong!”\n\nWe waited far too long, observing the orphaned thrush, until dinnertime, when my wife called us impatiently to come eat. My daughter barely touched her food, and then, before I could forbid it, dashed away from the table back to the marsh. The baby was still wailing in its nest. The mother was nowhere to be found. \n\n“Dad,” she wept. “We have to do something.”\n\nShe carried home the bird in her hands, and tried to feed him, but she was not his mother. Some long hours later, he gave a final chirp, and exhaled his last breath. My daughter’s grief was like a rage that turns in on herself and slowly crushes the griever. I had never seen anything like it. \n\n“There are many other birds,” I said, three days later, foolishly. \n\n“But not this one,” she sobbed. “There will never be this one, ever again.”\n\nAnd she was right. That brief, childish brush with death, the final moments of such a small thing and her failure to save it, had changed her. Now it was the overlooked and underappreciated that she championed. I sometimes thought it was that she liked fighting altogether too much: fighting with sharp words, or, too often, with fists.\n\n“It’s very unseemly,” the village elders said. “Having a girl who fights like a boy. Please talk some sense into her.”\n\nShe was twelve, and the only sensible thing in the world to her was that justice should be reached: a boy had called her best friend’s mother a sow for having too many children, and their poor house a pigsty, and there would be no rest until she had vengeance on him.\n\n“See here, my darling,” I said. “You need to have some compassion, rather than leading with your fists. Do you think this boy isn’t teasing her because he himself is poor?”\n\n“But that should make him kind,” she said. “That is no excuse.”\n\n“You’re right,” I agreed, and then we talked more about this boy, and why he couldn’t just do the right thing in the first place. \n\n“Why does he do things that make people hate him?” She pondered. \n\n“Why do you fight him when he shows hate?” I asked her.\n\n“Because it’s right,” she said, the force of all her convictions in her glare. “I can’t not do what’s right.” \n\n“When you attack him,” I told her, “It just distracts him from how bad he feels about himself. Now he can hit back against something else, instead of hating himself, and you give him that. Why, my love?”\n\nShe considered. My headstrong, hard-nosed, justice-seeking daughter contemplated this for a long while. It didn’t go so well, these first attempts at peacemaking of hers. “Why are you sad inside?” She’d asked the boy, after his most recent bullying efforts. He’d punched her in thanks for her concern. They’d brawled, and bled. He was mean to her, evidently not appreciating her attempts to play mind games with him. She gave up on him. She ignored him. She gave up ignoring and screamed at him. He taunted her. \n\n“I hate him, Dad,” she sobbed one night. “I don’t understand it.” \n\nShe wasn’t responsible for fixing him, I told her, but she brooded, and wouldn’t hear. \n\nFourteen now; laughing and shrieking wildly with friends. She organizes them to give blankets and food to a family who has lost their cottage to a fire, because of course she does. My heart swells with pride as I look at her. \n\nSixteen now; the boy who’s bullied her all these years is now bringing her flowers, and she can’t comprehend this, and her heart is unmoved.\n\n“Maybe he really did love you all that time, and didn’t see it,” I told her.\n\n“But I still can’t understand it,” she said. “I don’t want to be with someone who confuses love and hate.” \n\nShe circles the community, restlessly searching for purpose, at seventeen. She attends to the midwife; maybe she’ll be a healer. She delivers babies, and comforts the women in their pains, but she’s dissatisfied. It’s not enough. That boy hasn’t stopped bringing her flowers.\n\nEighteen, and strange people come to the village: they speak of a strange God, and hold strange books we cannot read. She’s captivated, and I’m afraid; this god does not abide by the offerings we leave to the smaller gods who have watched over us for centuries, and the unease of erasing them from my daily observations chokes my throat and clutches in my chest. She insists. She believes in them, and her face glows with the purpose of her own transformation, her alignment with these passionate, spiritual strangers. I love her, so I put my own gods in a dark corner, and nod to hers, though I don’t believe in him. \n\nFinally, she tells me what I know I’ve feared all along: she’s leaving here. For other lands, where there are more people to save, to help, to heal.\n\n“Please don’t,” I beg, but I know her deafness to this plea was born inside her.\n\n“I must,” she said, sobbing, tearful, but resolute. “I love you both, but I must.”\n\nI watched her go, standing at the door with her mother. Her leaving took an eternity, in which my heart broke a thousand times. The moment she disappeared from sight, I think I finally understood the prophecy. ", "“Gnä' Frau? Some gentlemen here to see you. They say they’re soothsayers!”\n\nAfter a moment, a tired face appeared at a crack in the door and the innkeeper beamed at it. “I’m sorry to bother you in your state, gnä' Frau, but they already knew you were pregnant so I know they must be real fortune-tellers! They were very insistent. Will you see them?”\n\nThe bleary-eyed faced blinked a couple of times, then withdrew, shutting the door. A moment later, it opened again, revealing a short, dark-haired woman with the beginning of laugh lines around her mouth, dark eyes, an uncertain expression, and an enormously swollen belly. “Soothsayers?”\n\n“Yes! A funny pair, as opposite as they can be while both being men. They’re waiting downstairs. I told them your husband wasn’t home, but it’s you they want to see. If you like, I could chaperone!”\n\n“That won’t be necessary. Please tell them I will be down in a few minutes.” The innkeeper’s face fell; being the chaperone also meant hearing the conversation. Despite this loss of potential gossip, she rallied quickly. \n\n“Well then, I shall set up three places in one of the side rooms and put out some tea.”\n\n“Thank you very much.”\n\nIt took the woman quite some time to make it down the 2 flights of stairs to the common rooms, but she found things just as the innkeeper had promised. The tea was set, the curtains drawn, and the men claiming to be soothsayers were indeed a study in contrasts. One was impressively tall, his short-cropped blond hair shining in the sunlight streaming through the window, his blue eyes sparkling in his clean-shaven face. The other was shorter, with unruly, dark hair, a full beard and an air of urgency. Neither looked older than 30, and both leapt to their feet as soon as she appeared. \n\n“Frau Klara, it is so nice to meet you!” exclaimed the blond one. “My name is Hans Becker, and this is my… colleage, shall we say.”\n\n“Josef Krattenstein,” said the dark-haired man. \n\nHans continued. “I must apologize for dropping in on you unannounced, but we noticed the imminent birth of your son and, well, whenever we both notice something, it’s usually worth noticing!”\n\n“We rarely both foresee the same things,” broke in Josef, “but we do tend to agree on the power and strength of our predictions when we both notice.”\n\nKlara sipped her tea to collect her thoughts, and after a moment remarked, “I’m dreadfully sorry, gentleman, but I don’t believe in fortune-telling.”\n\nThey nodded as if this was no surprise. “Fortunately,” said Hans, “that doesn’t matter. We would be remiss in our duties if we said nothing. Please, spare us a moment of your time and we will move on quickly.”\n\nAfter a moment, Klara nodded.\n\n“Splendid!” cried Hans. “Then let us begin! Josef, you’re the rain cloud here, why don’t you go first so that I may brighten her day afterward.”\n\nJosef leaned forward, his face turning grim. “Frau Klara, I make no apologies for what I must tell you now, but what I see is what I see and I cannot sugar-coat it. The boy you carry-“\n\nKlara held up a hand and Josef paused. “We have been hoping for a boy, but what makes you so certain?”\n\n“I know. We know. Some details are clear, others less so. But we are both certain he is a boy. He will be born healthy and strong, and grow to be a great man. But there, the good news ends. If you love this nation, this world…” Josef’s dark eyes grew hard. “Drown him when he is born, for his life will cause great suffering. I see in his future darkness, death, and the fall of nations.”\n\nSilence fell over the table. Josef leaned back, his chair creaking loudly. The chill emanating from Klara’s side of the table was palpable. Finally, Josef looked away, perhaps ashamed of his suggestion, and she turned to Hans, who was smiling uncertainly.\n\n“I see,” she said, her voice dead calm. Clearly these were madmen, and the sooner she was rid of them, the better. “And do you, Herr Becker, have anything better to tell me?”\n\nHans hesitated a moment, then said, “Please do not hold what Josef has said against him. We do not always like the visions we are given, but-“\n\n“Please-“ she interrupted, “I am very pregnant, tired, and I must climb 3 flights of stairs to return to my rooms. If I am fortunate, I will make it before I collapse and simply fall to my death and so grant Herr Krattenstein’s wishes,” here her voice broke, “sending this baby to join my first three. State your piece and begone.”\n\nHans nodded and forged onward. “I see greatness in your son’s future. He will be a leader of nations, a great man. He will restore order to chaos and rebuild a fallen empire. That is what I see.”\n\nKlara thought about this, her interest suddenly piqued despite herself. “So you two do not agree? My son is both a bringer of death and the fall of nations, and a builder of empires?”\n\nBoth men nodded, but it was Josef who spoke. “We do not always understand the visions we receive, Hans and I. We often see different futures. But we are compelled to share them none-the-less. I make no apologies; my duty is done. And now, we will take our leave of you.”\n\nKlara sat at the table long after they had bid their hasty good-byes, sipping her tea thoughtfully. How had they known she had picked out a boy’s name already? The rest was clearly nonsense, but they were both as certain as she was that she carried a boy inside her. \n\n“Well,” she murmured, “they both said you would be born healthy and live to be a grown man. Perhaps, if they agree on that, there is something to it.” She stroked her belly and was rewarded with a firm kick. “Did you hear that, little Adolf? You’ll be a great man one day!”\n\n----\n\nEdit: I can't spell.", "\"AAAAAGGGHHH\"\n\nMy Wife screamed in agony, as she should. I guess it would be much scarier if she wasn't. No one expects Child Birth to be painless. \n\nI wish there was more I could do for her, but it was hard. Being who we are, we were forced to give birth in our Family home. The paramedics were hard at work, delivering my first Son. I prayed to the Lord, begging him to keep my wife and child safe, and begging him for a safe delivery.\n\nMy Prayers were answered.\n\nAfter it was over, they explained what to do now, how to help my wife recover. Thankfully, we already had a room prepared for the Little one. We thanked them profusely, we understood what they were risking by helping us. Their reputations were on the line. Thankfully, they valued morals and principle over what Society thinks.\n\nSo there we were. Our beautiful baby boy lying asleep in his mothers arms. Alberta held him softly, hand running down his smooth back over and over. Then, the doorbell rang. I went to answer and when I opened it, I felt my stomach drop.\n\nStanding there, on our front porch, the infamous Veil and Nightress. The Future-speaking soothsayers. Veil, the one who spoke of the happiness to come. Nightress, speaking of the despair.\n\nI said nothing as they walked into our living room, their movements perfectly mirroring each other. They knew right where to go. When Alberta saw them, her eyes went wide. She looked at me worryingly. There was nothing we could o. We both knew better. You don't interrupt these two.\n\nThere they stood, looking down upon our baby boy, who I had given my name to, and they were going to tell us of his future. \n\nFinally, they spoke. But they did so in a manner I had not yet seen: they spoke at the same time, their words exactly the same.\n\n\"This child's life will go well.\"\n\nAs soon as the words left their lifts, they made their way out. Neither of us questioned them. It was useless, we knew we would get no answers. \n\nThey never spoke together. Veil always went first, then Nightress. More importantly, never before had they said the same thing. \n\nWe sat there for what felt like eternity. Saying nothing. But then I looked down upon my Son. Suddenly, a wave of calmness washed over me. In that instant, I felt proud. As if he was going to do great things, be a great leader in life, change history. But then, I felt worried. People like that tend to have targets on their heads. And him being who he is, already has one, even without that prophecy. \n\nI pondered what they meant. I prayed for Answers. What would happen to my Boy?\n\nIt would tear me apart, attempting to decipher their words. Before long, he awoke again, crying. Then all of my worries were gone. Suddenly I remembered: I have a baby boy.\n\nI realized I had yet to speak to him. To this boy who carried my name. I waited a minute, Alberta got him calmed down, then I spoke to him for the first time:\n\n\"Hello there, Martin Luther.\"" ]	3
	[WP] The ancient alien who taught humans to build pyramids awakens one day to a wild-eyed man saying "I'm not saying I broke into your ship, but I broke into your ship."	[ "\"And wow, let me just say, well done, well done good sir.\"\n\nThe alien sized him up like seeing a forgotten high school friend in the distance.\n\n\"I can see you're a man of great taste. You've got,\" he ran his hand along a protrusion on the wall,\" well this thing, clearly the work of a skilled craftsman. I would expect nothing less after seeing your previous work. So simple but such vision, you've defined millennia of humanity with your designs.\"\n\nThe alien took a breath to speak but was cut off, \"And this, oh god. Is this a new design, I'm not at all surprised you've managed to break out while maintaining such a high level of unique work.\"\n\n\"That's a cube of food--\"\n\n\"Ooooooh,\" he didn't hear a word the alien said. \"Did you make this too? God is there nothing you can't do? Just wow, I thought I was a fan but I'm really a fan. Call me GE, they make fans? They make fans, I'm sure they do, probably a lot of them, but look who I'm talking to you I'm sure you're well aware of whose designing what these days. What with all your connections, I can't even imagine trying to get something like the Pyramids done back then. Did you have subcontractors or did you oversee everything yourself? I'm picturing like a---\"\n\n\"I told you to go stack fucking rocks because you people wouldn't leave me the fuck alone!\"\n\nThe room became silent for the first time.\n\n\"Question after question after question with no real point I got sick of it. I said see those rocks over there, you want to make me happy? Go stack those fuckers, I'll be back later. I come back, and guess what?\"\n\nStill silent.\n\n\"Oh now you're speechless. I'll guess for you, you idiots stacked them. You made a big pile and acted like you'd conquered the world. And because you still wouldn't shut up I told you to keep doing it. Then I thought, they can't all be this stupid, so I went to other parts of the world and guess what? You are. All of you.\"\n\nThe human's prized drawing had been torn from the fridge and the alien felt some remorse for this intellectual infant.\n\n\"Look, I'm sorry, I know that was awhile ago. It's been what,\" he looked at his clock, \"Damn almost four thousand years.\" He looked around and then out of the nearby window in his ship.\n\n\"Wait, how did you even get in here?\"\n\n\"... Um, well, my friends and I.\" \n\nOh god don't say it, the alien thought.\n\n\"We uh, stacked a bunch of rocks up until we could reach your ship.\"\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Its been 15 months since the scientists have come up with a formula to reverse the zombie like infection. People are starting to have flashbacks of things they have done while being affected. Tonight you have your first flashback...	[ "I lie in bed before it happens, recounting the day at the hospital. \n\nThe doc said I might have some. He said it depended on how long a person was a zombie-fied. \n\nHe told me about his, and he seemed to weirdly enjoy talking about them. Like he can remember that lust for human flesh.\n\nThat’s what it is, though, right? Lust? That’s how some folklore portrayed vampires.\n\nThe gaunt, pale face sinking it’s teeth into someone, ravaging them apart just for a meal and sexual release. It’s beast-like, really. Animalistic.\n\nCan you imagine? The bloodless hue of a vampire eating you alive, translucent skin in flashes as you black out from blood loss and pain. You cough up blood, the iron taste filling your mouth. You can’t smell anymore.\n\nYou can’t breathe.\n\nThis is what the doc said, that zombies are really similar to vampires in terms of being an animal at the foundation. Stringy human flesh and the craving for it are really similar to blood. The means to get them are the same. The lust is the same, and so are the cravings beforehand. \n\nI told my roommate the entire story when I got home, and we had a laugh over how nutty the doc sounded. \n\nDid he kill for fun? Just to sate the hunger? The lust? He didn’t mention after telling me of the flashbacks, and of his own.\n\n~\n\nIt felt like going back to sleep. The images were foggy, and I barely could make anything out at first.\n\nThen the cravings hit and my mouth was watery, my tongue running over my lips once.\n\nTwice.\n\nThree times.\n\nWatching a very familiar face bite down, tearing string from string of flesh. The blood-rimmed eyes not able to recognize anything but flesh. \n\nOnly flesh.\nThe little boy I was eating spasmed like a dead animal, the body jerking three times before laying still. It was an easy meal, but wouldn’t fill me. My desire was a demon, wanting more, and more, and more.\n\nA piece of necrotic skin falls onto the boy. I was a rotting, mindless beast enjoying his kill, so I didn’t notice. My attention was focused on my meal.\n\nI could hear a woman’s voice. A scream, once she saw her little boy already torn apart. I was still hungry, the demon needs more. \n\nMore.\n\nMore.\n\nThe woman was plump. A nice meal, and an even easier kill.\n\nThe demon went quiet.\n\nAs I was remembering this, and watching myself, I had a craving of my own. A demon of my own.\n\nI was hungry, like I hadn’t eaten since this moment in time happened a year ago. \n\nBack in my room, the animalistic urge has full control over me, and I can’t help but enjoy watching my feet take me to the other room in the apartment and hear my roommate scream.\n\n", "After they cured us they’ve kept us in locked facilities for testing, thousands of people stuck in this prison, no way to contact our families. There’s no point in trying to get out, I decide to just go back to bed for the 500th time. Ugh. \n\nI’m walking around in my house, Ha I must of been freed. I try to look around, why can’t I control my body. I see red stained on the walls, fresh. It smells so good, so delicious... OMG I’ve heard of this before flashbacks of the undead, time to see what horrible things I’ve done. I turn a corner in my house. Pam! PAM RUN. My little baby puggle is hiding crouched down staring at me with those sad, pitiful, sweet, savory eyes... NO RUN BABY! I go closer to her. Pam please... as I reach down, I feel pain in my hand. AGGH. it’s Rocko, my tabby cat! Rocco’s protecting his sister, aww rocko you’re so sweet, I could just eat you up. My arms pick up rocko as she fights against me I take a big bite out of her head. She falls limp. MMMM so juicy. I kneel down to eat the rest. I hear Pam whimper, I turn around she’s squeezing out of the doggy door. Pam come back it’s your mama.... Pam leaves at least I have one meal... and then I hear crying. I recognize that crying. It’s my three year old son, Thomas...\n\nI wake up. Tears are streaming down my face. Rocko’s dead! And my poor baby, Thomas, what could he do against me. The guilt hurts, I’m a monster, I don’t deserve to live after what I’ve done. I have to end things." ]	2
	[WP] Genies are now commonplace enough that a special class of lawyer has emerged. They help wish beneficiaries make clear and unambiguous wishes so that they have the best chance of getting what they actually wanted.	[ "“Okay, Galesh, I’ve written out this contract to settle our agreement on my clients wish. These clauses explain the various outcomes that you will refrain from giving him. If you sign this contract and break one or any number of these clauses, you will be banished back to the lamp that had imprisoned you.”\nGalesh smirked as he hovered in the office. These genies always seemed to be deceiving someone at all times and that was why Thomas was here. To ensure that no deceit would meet his client.\n“So, let’s begin. To recap, my client intends to wish that he be unlimitedly rich. This first paragraph here is his written wish in full detail,” he marked the paragraph with the tip of his pen, “then if you read here, paragraph 2 explains the conditions.”\nGalesh the floating genie read the paragraphs. \n“By initialing here, you consent that you will not grant my client an abundance of any currency with the exception of United States dollars.”\nGalesh initialed the contract.\n“By initialing here, you agree that you will not turn my client ‘sweet’”\nGalesh initialed.\n“And this last paragraph is a blanket statement agreeing that you will not make any deception of any kind towards my client and give him exactly what he asks for. Do you consent?”\nGalesh said nothing, but smirked, and after a moment initialed the paragraph.\nThomas pointed his pen to the bottom of the page to a line with the work “signature” written beneath it. \n“Perfect, now if you’d just sign here, I believe we can move forward.”\nGalesh signed the paper. \nThe genie breathed deep and set the pen down. He looked up at Thomas.\n“Now what was your clients name again?”\n“His name is Michael Hall” Thomas stamped the contract and filed it in his briefcase.\nA few weeks later at the official hearing Michael made his wish official by saying the words, “I wish to be unlimitedly rich.”\nGalesh smirked. \nThe room froze. Complete silence as if time had stood still for a moment. Michael looked at the genie as he began to fade away.\n“It is done,” he said as he slowly dissipated. The room suddenly resumed the audible shuffle of papers and sniffles of the inhabitants.\nThe judge looked to Michael.\n“Okay Richard, I believe we are finished here. If the members have no further statements, we will close this case.”\nMichael squinted and turned his eyes to the judge.\n“Excuse me, sir, but my name is Michael.”\n“Hmm! I apologize, all my records say your name is Richard. Your last name is Hall is it not?”\n“Yes, your honor”\nMichael had a moment of panic. He pulled out his drivers license which had every detail of him correct except his first name now read “Richard”. \n" ]	1
	[WP] As long as someone in the world is singing "Long Live the Queen", the Queen will not die. But someone is assassinating them one by one.	[ "Edward watched the man's blue eyes become dull and lifeless. He sat on the man's chest using his weight to pin him down, but now that the man would no longer be fighting back Edward relaxed. He drew the small thin blade out of the man's neck, then stood to begin the cleanup. His phone rang. \n\n\"Yes?\" he answered it, then paced towards the balcony to admire the sunset. He expected the call to drag out, but felt no particular hurry. He cased his mark perfectly; he could stay the whole weekend and still manage to get away with it. \n\n\"Yes, he's down. One left,\" Edward said. He turned to glance inside the condo at the body he left on the floor. Another man in a dark suit sat in a nearby chair unconscious and tied to the chair. \"No it won't be hard, I'm looking at him right now. Just say the word.\" Edward stared out over the balcony, he watched the sun dipping into the ocean while his client deliberated. Finally he received more instructions through the phone. He nodded.\n\n\"Okay, I'll wait for your call.\" Edward hung up the phone, then wandered back inside to begin the cleanup. He carried the corpse out to the plastic lined trunk of his car, and found the other man stirring when he returned.\n\n\"Do you know who we are!?\" He said loudly while straining against the zip-ties that kept him attached to the chair. Edward nodded.\n\n\"I know exactly who you are. That's why I'm here.\" Edward knelt on his hands and knees to clean the floor near the man. \n\n\"How could you do this to the Queen? You're a traitor!\" he yelled at Edward and made an attempt to spit on him. Spittle dribbled down his chin, but Edward ignored him to focus on his task of cleaning. \n\n\"The Queen is old, it's time to bring in some younger blood,\" Edward said.\n\n\"HOW DARE YOU!\" the man made an attempt to kick at Edward, but he only succeeded in tipping his chair over, and smashing his face on the ground. \"Owwwwww.\" he groaned. Edward chuckled to himself, then stood from the floor. He walked over to the man then he sat the man and chair upright again. \n\n\"The Queen is human like everyone else, she's probably dying...,\" Edward chuckled to himself, and punched the prisoner on the shoulder for added amusement. \"...for a break.\" The man began to scoff at the thought, but Edward's phone rang again. \n\n\"Yes?\" He answered the familiar number. \"Okay, one second,\" he set the phone down on a nearby table without hanging up, then pulled up a chair and sat in front of the prisoner. He leaned forward and pressed the phone against the prisoner's ear. \n\n\"Someone wants to say hello,\" Edward said with a smile. Without missing a bit the well-dressed prisoner yelled into the phone.\n\n\"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN! I'm sorry, what?\" Edward chuckled to himself. \n\n\"No, why are you doing this?\" the prisoner's head shook subconsciously. \"I will always stand by my oath. Is there no other way?\" Edward remembered asking that same question when he accepted the job. He watched the man go through the same process he did, until the man's body relaxed completely. He accepted it much faster than Edward had. The man took a deep breath and nodded.\n\n\"I understand,\" he looked up at Edward. \"...asking for you,\" he said. Edward cut the man loose, then placed the silver blade in the man's hand. He took the phone, stood, and walked outside again. \n\n\"Yes?\" Edward spoke into the phone as the sun dipped below the horizon completely. \"It's been an honor your Highness. Thank you, may you rest in peace at last,\" Edward said. After a moment he hung up the phone, then walked back into the house to clean up the second body. \n\n\\\\\\\n\nThank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #208. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/).", "It had been three years since the referendum. Everyone agreed that God Save the Queen was a silly song, and the newly elected government, eager to curry favour with the electorate, allowed the British public to decide whether to keep the old anthem or choose a new one. The result wasn't even close.\n\nWhen the Prime Minister officially conveyed the news to Her Majesty, she received it with her usual good grace. It was the will of the people, after all. In all matters, wise or foolish, their will must be respected.\n\nThat was the contract, after all, written in ink and blood and other fouler, older things. Her ancestors had fought mighty wars, but in the end a compromise was reached. The will of the people would be respected by the ruling house. And in return, their health, safety and happiness would be assured as long as one of their subjects sang the ancient words. For as long as they wished.\n\nHer Majesty had learned the truth, since ascending to the throne. Her first question had been why the magic had not worked for her royal father. The answer was that it specified a Queen, not a King. The first Elizabeth, Gloriana herself whose mother was half-fairy and possessed tremendous power, saw to it that the words would safeguard the realm's ruling Queens, powerful women who reigned in their own right.\n\n\"I suppose Charles will know, sooner or later,\" said Her Majesty. \"He always suspected.\"\n\n\"It won't be for a good while yet,\" said the Duke of Edinburgh. \"There are still holdouts among them. They still say the words.\"\n\n\"Fewer each day,\" said Her Majesty. She had hoped for more years, to set things to rights, but she had to make do with the time that was left.\n\nIt was some time before Special Branch began making the connection to a series of seemingly unconnected murders across the country. The victims tended to be older folks, with a disproportionately high number of them war veterans. But try as they might, they could not track down who was behind the hideous crimes.\n\nArthur Bullard sat in his armchair in front of the telly. England were playing against some foreign team, and the lads had lined up, ready to sing the anthem. It was some terrible song, far too modern for his liking. What was wrong with God Save the Queen? Arthur had sung it every day when he was in Burma, serving with General Slim. It had seemed peculiar at first to belt out the words while steaming in a jungle, but then after a while it became familiar. Comforting, even. The words reminded him, reminded them all, of everything they were fighting for. Their families, their children, a home to come back to.\n\nHe had sung it then for her father and he would sing it now for his daughter, who like him had also served in the war, even if in a different capacity. A sudden impulse seized him and he opened his mouth.\n\nSend 'er victorious\n\n'appy and glorious\n\nLong to reign o'er us\n\nGod save the Queen!*\n\nA loud crash made him look up. Someone had kicked down his front door, by the sound of it. Arthur felt his old heart begin to race. It was those bloody hoodies again, and he would end up as little more than a stain on his good carpet and a headline in tomorrow's Daily Mail.\n\nBut it wasn't a teenager. It was a man, wearing what looked like tactical gear. He had a black balaclava over his head, and aimed an evil-looking gun straight at Arthur's chest.\n\n\"That's the last time, old timer,\" he said. But before he could pull the trigger, the top of his head disappeared in a fine red mist. The attacker pitched forward, sprawling on the good carpet. A woman stood behind him, with her gun raised.\n\n\"Arthur Bullard?\" she snapped.\n\n\"Yes. Who in God's name are you? What's going on?\"\n\n\"My name's Payne,\" she said. \"MI5, on secondment to the Queen's Guard. Your life is in danger. And so is her's.\"\n\n\"You mean...\"\n\n\"Her Majesty. We'll explain the details later. But we need to go now.\"\n\nArthur stood up, eyes ablaze. He might be an ancient old wreck, but he still felt a sense of pride, of duty.\n\n\"For Queen and country, lass,\" he said, putting on his cap. \"Let's go.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You are a genie that has bsen trapped in a magic lamp. You can only be set free if someone rubs the lamp and you grant them a wish. Unfortunately, you don't actually have any magical abilities. So when someone rubs your lamp, you have to figure out a way to get free despite your lack of magic.	[ "Who knows how long it has been since I've been trapped in this void. It must have been aeons now, seeing as this inky black has begun to feel apart of me.\n\nAn endless existence; wondering from one space of nothing to the next. Just waiting for the tiny bursts of colour and sound from when I'm called upon, knowing full well that to fail the task bequeathed to me is to be sent straight back to my lonely prison.\nAgain the familiar pulling, contorting of the very soul begins to crawl it's way up my legs. Forcing in to me just to tear back out. Just as suddenly as it began its over.\n\nI stand up and spit out the salty ground; taking in my bearings; dull eyes focusing on the dreary man before me. Silently I inspect him, whilst his pungent smell pierces itself deep into my memory. Seeing the half kempt beard, ratty cloths and... The small evil jewel I have called home clasped firmly in his hand. All I am goes into remembering a voice last used ages ago. \n\nQuietly, softly in a near inaudible whisper he is presented with the curse, the same curse as all those before him \"what is thy desire\"\nHe must have fallen in his shock, he dusts himself off an starts to gather himself before me \"well fuck me, tha......\"\n\nMy hand shoots out, slamming his mouth closed. Looking deep into his eyes I form the beginning of line I had lost hope of ever uttering\n\n\"As you wish\"" ]	1
	[WP] Turns out that another Kryptonian survived her planet's destruction, and she's a total valley girl	[ "Respond with a poem? Challenge accepted!\n\nToday I realized I'm like totally an alien.\nMy girlfriends like never believed me when,\nI said that like this one time I could see right through them.\n\nEven though I'm from Krypton I'm Cali at heart.\nMy super powers will totally give me a head start.\nLike I'm good at reading, science, and art.\nMs. Universe pageant, I know I'll go far.\n\nI met like, my cousin the other day.\nA total square but kinda cool in a way.\nToday he stopped a spaceship from crashing in the bay.\nBut did he get new acrylics? Well I did! okay?\n\nHe can save an airplane from like a deadly fall.\nBut I save sea turtles with my venti frap at the mall.\nHe destroys cities, I don't use a straw.\nI can't keep talking it's my bff I just have to take this call.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Two hundred years ago a spirit was banished into an object that would later become a family heirloom. Now, that spirit has found their way back, ready to wreck havoc on the family that imprisoned them, only find they are now haunting... a pawn shop.	[ "finally ...., finally some fool found the right combination. My soul has been aching for what seemed an eternity, yearning for a stretch. Satisfied I listened to the crackling mechanism as the locket trapping me, opened slowly. Finally I could kill miss Sophies heir. I gathered all the strength left in my crippled soul and formed a brilliant ball of energy. I shot out of my prison - just to bounce of of him.\n\n\"was zum ....!\" At just this moment my sight came back to me and my soul startet to manifest into what has been na med a spirit or ghost. I realised what had gone wrong. This little fat man could never be miss Sophies offspring. There was no conection on any spiritual level.\n\n\"Um Gottes wüllen a G'spenst!\" He smiled at me. \"Leiwand\". Whereever this was, the strange language made it clear I was no longer in London. I felt it within me. I had to find them and bring them death. \"Wos moch i jetzt mit dir?\" Two blue eyes looked straight into my face.\"Und was wüst du eigentlich vo mir? Wie kummst du in des Ketterl?Gehst du do a wieda eine?\" But first I needed to get rid of him. I looked around. The room was full of potential murder weapons. Ancient swords, daggers and books full of magic spells where neatly arranged in glass cabinets. In between where all kind of trinkets. I must have arrived in a rather rich mans private collection rooms.\n\nI tried entering the cabinets to reach for an ancient etruscan dagger. - clonk - incredible pain envelloped me. \"Cool. Do hot die Urli supa Kastln vererbt\" The mortal tried to touch me, failed miserably and landed on his rear. Oddly he did not seem afraid of me. At least now I found my voice \"Where am I?\" I tried to sound intimidating, but my regeneration process took much longer than expected. \"Na, ka Wunder, dass'd mi ned vastehst!-Doo yoo speak englisch\" The mortal looked proud of himself. \"Mei name is Willi, what is yoo name?\" Well- His english wasn't great, but at least I could communicate. \"Where am I ???\" I tried again. Willi pointed towards a large window. I could see tall buildings and strange carriages. People where walking by. I was baffled. Women wearing outragously short clothing. \"Wien\"\n\nI must have looked very confused. Willi raised a finger \"Woat a bissl\". He pulled a thick yellow book of of one of the many shelves. It was marked with a large lightblue \"L\" and obviously one of his favorites. He looked through the pages, stopped and murmured \"phiena\". So that's where I was Vienna, Austria. \n\nLooking for a way I saw the writing on the door. It was backwards, but readable. \"Wolfgang Krahuletz, Pfandleihaus\"" ]	1
	[WP] "I swear, I'm not crazy. Every time one of us does something, I can hear the sound of dice being rolled."	[ "“Eight you said?”\n\n“Yep.” \n\nI let the guy the wait while I thought it over. “How about four?” I asked.\n\nBeside me Tom looked like he was about to do a spit take. “Are you really going to low-ball him like that?” \n\n“Shhh,” I said, “wait.” \n\nSomewhere in the distance I heard the sound of dice hitting a table. I held my breath until I heard them come to a stop. \n\nThe man bit his lip and thought for a moment. “I shouldn’t but...alright.” \n\n“Splendid,” I said as I shook his hand. Tom looked as if he was about to speak but I cut him off. “Go get it started for me?”\n\n“Yeah, sure.”\n\nI handed the man the money I had brought for the sale. Forty crisp, hundred dollar bills passed from my hands to his and like that the car was mine. \n\n“I don’t get it,” said Tom as I got into the driver's seat, “how do you do it?”\n\nI thought for a minute. I had been expecting that question for awhile, but so far I hadn’t come up with an answer that didn’t sound crazy. “You ever hear the theories about how this life could be a simulation?”\n\nTom nodded.\n\n“Well, every time I do something I hear dice being rolled,” Tom was about to speak but I cut him off. “I know, it sounds crazy.”\n\n“Just a little.”\n\n“Eventually I began to realize that I could describe the results mathematically. As far as I can tell, the die has twenty sides.”\n\n“So how does this help you?” \n\nI stopped at an intersection and waited for the dice roll before turning left. “I’m getting to that. It helps me predict outcomes, and as it turns out if you level up your charisma you can do just about anything.”\n\n“So?” asked Tom. “Everyone practices. It’s what makes them get better.”\n\n“True,” I said. “I can’t argue that. But unlike them I can quantify how much better. You start small, see how the rolls turn out, and after awhile you can start to guess how each roll will go.” \n\n“Oh and I suppose you have a perfect twenty in persuasion?” said Tom.\n\nI shook my head as we pulled up to the bar. “About eighteen actually. High enough to get most things done. I figure you’re at about a four,” I told him. “It’s why you can’t get a date.” \n\nTom looked irritated. “Funny. You know, I’m no casanova, but that doesn’t mean you can make fun of me for it.” \n\n“I not making fun of you,” I said. I turned off the engine and waited for the dice roll. “But we’re going into that bar and I’m going to help you go up a few levels. The nice thing about all this, is that once you realize life it a game, it becomes easy to play the odds.”\n\nTom thought about it for a minute. Meanwhile I waited for the roll. I could tell by the look on his face that he was already starting to hear it. \n\n“Alright,” he said in a tone that told me he didn’t quite believe it. “Let’s give this a try.”\n\n“Great!” I said and jumped out of the car. “Let’s talk to some girls.”" ]	1
	[WP] At the Gates of Hell you meet the Devil and challenge him to a game for your soul. He accepts and tells you to name the game, for he has mastered them all. You reply 'Mario Kart'.	[ "\\Didn't stick to the last mario kart portion\\\n\nThe heat bounded off of the rocky path as it pushed me forward, singing my clothes at each step. I tried to drag my feet as I approached the overarching gates of what I had to assume was hell before me. All I remember last was driving in my car and then a sharp pain in my side, almost as if a knife was being shoved between my rib cages. This must be a fever dream I thought to myself, and I’m undergoing surgery. \n\n Yet the pain from the fiery licks upon my back seemed real enough. The flames appeared to act as a whip as they lashed across my back, forcing me forward even more. Then, they stopped. Without their forceful motivation ahead, I stayed where I stood, peering at the royal red gates in front of me. Their shiny metallic texture along each pillar of it shone brightly with the reflection of the fire behind me, and the rough block rocks that lined the walls attached to it warned away anyone not permitted to enter, or not to leave that is. The dark stone walls had imprints of screaming faces in them, seeming to follow my movements, begging me to help with their eyes. \n\n \"Well that's ominous, and a little over the top now isn’t it?”, I half chuckled to myself. Finding humor in this situation, I would even be scared of my own mind at that point in being able to laugh.\n\n Before I could revel in my own humor, the gates began to slowly open, smoothly gliding to reveal a man walking out. The man was, by all means, handsome, he stood no more than six feet and a couple inches, and was dressed in slim-fitting black suit pants, with a matching suit vest over his tight and tailored fit dress shirt. His shoes shone bright, newly polished, and his tie was skinny and crimson red. As my eyes followed up his neck, I saw a bright and gleaming smile greet me, complimented by a bold but sharp jawline. The smile he wore was charming, and disarming in every means, so much, so I felt my shoulders relax from the past pains of the fire.\n\nHe continued stepping towards me smile wide. Each foot, one in front of the other, walking with a sense of boldness and importance, but not enough as to be described as arrogant. His jet-black hair seemed cold, shorter on the sides and slightly longer on the top. Overall, his hair was around medium length. His hazel eyes seemed the most disarming of all, as his steps grew closer and closer.\n\n“Welcome my friend,” he exclaimed, with genuine and happy excitement in his voice, which was smooth as an angel’s, “I hope the death wasn’t too painful, you seem a tad younger than the average I see here. Well anyways, let me show you around the place!” His tone almost seemed that of a familiar friend as he threw his arm around my shoulder and walked me forward. \n\n\"We're all sinners here, but hey, they say sinners have more fun anyways so here we are! Copious amounts of sex? Take the third left. Gluttony and all you can eat while staying beautiful? The buffet is all you can eat. Pride? Well, you'll be so arrogant here that you'll feel like you're on top of the world!\" He exclaimed to me excitedly, \"Oh and don't even get me started on murder, you actually can't die because you're already dead so you all can try to your heart's content.\"\n\n“Hold on!” I interrupted, “I’m too young to die, I mean I was just getting started in life. I didn’t have a family or meet the love of my life yet.”\n\n“Well, good thing you can have ten loves of your life down here.” He said as he leaned down close to me with an eyebrow raised, and I followed his finger as it pointed towards a group of gorgeous women no more than fifty yards away.\n\n\"Not what I meant,\" I replied, although the offer was, tempting. However, I should expect nothing less from hell, the kingdom of temptation.\n\n“Well… well… well… if you want to leave so bad, I think a little fun deciding factor should be enjoyable at least. One in which I’ll even let you choose, simply, so you have to excuse when you lose, and call me Lucifer”, he said with a grin as he looked into my eyes, “because Satan sounds so much, harsher. If you win I'll send you back up myself, but if you lose, then you're on clean-up duty for the sex dungeon for an eternity and a day, just for a little insult to injury.”\n\n\"That sounds fair enough to me, and in that case, I shall challenge you to..\" I paused, thinking actively about what it would be that I rest my soul upon.\n\n“Well?”\n\n“A single coin flip. Nothing else.”\n\n“Deal” Lucifer replied with a devious smile as a coin fell from the air into my open palm, having been created by his sheer ability to think and have it exist. \n\nI examined the coin, and on one side I saw an engraving of me kissing a beautiful woman and two children by our knees in the black metal. As I rolled the coin across my fingers, I saw the other side showed myself in agonizing pain as fire engulfed me, and my skin burned off, only to seemingly have it be replaced to be burned off again.\n\n“Charming,\" I said as I looked at Lucifer, “however, I’d like a coin from my world. I tend to trust their weighting more.”\n\nLucifer almost looked offended that I didn't like his artistic flair along the coin, and he straightened his tie and tucked down his suit jacket with a cough before he merely replied: \"Fine.\"\n\nThe coin in my hand seemed merely to turn into ash as a United States half-dollar fell into my hand. The weight felt fair, however, that didn't stop me from examining it thoroughly.\n\n“Listen here, I just took it out of a woman’s purse up top, it’s the real deal. Now if you wouldn’t mind.” Lucifer said as he outstretched his hand, beckoning me to continue.\n\nWith that, I figured it was indeed now or never. I placed the coin on top of my fist and lowered it. Thrusting my fist up, I flicked the coin upwards with the tip of my thumb. As it continued to flip, I declared, \"Heads\" and I heard Lucifer laugh beside me. The coin landed in my hand, and I covered it before either of us could see. Being from Georgia, I've always played that you flip it onto the back of your hand after you catch it; however, Lucifer must not have known this, for as I flipped the coin over onto the back of my hand the smile seemed to fade away from his face. As he looked up to meet my eyes with confusion, I pulled my hand covering the coin away, and we both looked down at it together. ", "\"Too late!\" I replied. \"You just gave your word.\" \n\nThe devil slumped his shoulders. \"I'm used to people picking a musical instrument, or a test of wits.\" \n\n\"Oh this will be a test of wits all right.\" I say, trying not to let my enthusiasm reveal itself too much. \"You said challenger sets the rules. Battle mode, course 4.\" \n\n\"Alright, lets go into the game room.\" The devil stepped aside to reveal a doorway situated between the scorched rocks and hellfire. As I stepped into the room I was left speechless. Inside was a perfect replica of my older brothers room, complete with a tube television. Even his old Star Trek model was sitting on his table; the one I smashed in a temper tantrum when I was 10. \n\n\"Make yourself comfortable.\" The devil said, and took a seat on the edge of the bed. \"Alex, retrieve my instruments if you could be so kind.\" Smoke appeared from the ground and rose to form two pillars, which then became a doorway, which a man then walked through. The man was handsome, although quite short and interestingly had one eye coloured blue and the other brown and was wearing strange, almost ceremonial clothing on. He carried a large case. \n\n\"Ah, like Alexa except it's a person. I get it.\" I said. \n\n\"Yeah, something like that.\" The devil replied. \n\nHe opened the case revealing rows upon rows of gaming systems. Every iteration of Nintendo, Sega, Playstation, X-box, and hundreds I'd never seen before in languages I didn't recognize lay before me. \"Alex is our resident gamer, he owns practically every game in the world.\" The devil retrieved the Super NES and two controllers and started trying to untangle the cords. I grabbed one controller and started to help plug everything in and turn on the TV. \n\n\"Alright, here we go.\" The devil said flatly. He turned the system on and we took our positions. 20 years of practice and there was no question, Yoshi was mine. I picked that character faster than anyone had picked him in history. The devil moved his box around, finally settling on Bowser. \n\n\"3, 2, 1!\" The countdown went off and I quickly used my perfect timing to boost to the first item, a green shell. Bowser was frozen in place, spinning out. I used both screens to adjust my aim and fired off the shot straight at my target. One balloon down. I'm already around the corner and going for the next item, and Bowser is still stuck in place. Red shell this time, this is going to be easy. I fire off the shot and it homes in on my prey. One ballon to go. \n\n\"Just one second.\" The devil says becoming nervous. \"Would you like something to drink?\" He said impatiently. \n\n\"No thanks, I'm good.\" I said. No thanks, I'd rather not lose to some cheap trick. \n\n\"Could you get someone in here with a cold soda or something?\" The devil asked his assistant. \n\n\"At once my lord.\" Alex replied, and disappeared. \n\n\"Here you are, my lord.\" A voice immediately stated. The voice made my head turn. \n\n\"Thanks Chris.\" The devil said, as my brother handed him a Coke can. He turned to me, blood still on the corner of his mouth, eyes bulging slightly, needle sticking out of his arm. Just like the last time I saw him. \n\n\"Hey bro.\" He said flatly. \n\nOh hey look at that, I got a ballon.\" The devil said. I turned back to the screen. The devil had scored a point off me.\n\n\"What the hell?\" I yelled. \n\n\"Yeah. It is.\" The devil responded. \n\n\"Oh fuck you dude. That was so cheap. You should feel sorry for yourself having to stoop to that. Enjoy losing.\" The lakitu dropped me off on the course at center and I boosted again, swinging left to the next nearest item and grabbed it. I lined up Bowser, turned the corner, and fired as I took the next corner. I watched the green shell fly towards Bowser and then.... he hopped. The shell went under him with perfect timing and bounced off the wall right back at him, and he hopped again. \n\n\"Bullshit.\" I muttered, narrowly missing the green shell myself. \n\n\"Sure sure.\" The devil replied, finally getting an item and firing off a red shell in my direction. I take a corner, hop and power slide around a corner forcing the red shell to hit a wall. \"Watch out.\" The devil says, as the green shell smashes into me. \"Oh, who put that there?\" He asks, grin widening. \n\n\"You know, I think it might be time to gloat now.\" The devil says. My hands are getting cold as the heat dropped from the room. \"You know why I do what I do, boy?\" He turns to me, staring directly at me as he continues to maneuver around the course. \"Vanity. I can't stand the idea of things below me being more vain that me. Every human comes through my doors thinking that they're special.\" The devil throws a banana peel on the course and I memorize the location. \"You probably thought you were being original, didn't you? You thought you were the first person to have this idea.\" The devil paused the game. \n\n\"Dude, just play the game.\" \n\n\"Oh, I am.\" The devil starts to press buttons while the game is paused. Suddenly, the game unpauses and... my last balloon pops. \n\n\"Send Shigeru up here please.\" The devil said to my brother. \"I have his gift ready for him.\"", "\"What...what did you just say?\"\n\nI rolled my eyes. Surely an immortal being of ultimate evil wasn't hard of hearing. \"You heard me, you son of a bitch. Mario Kart.\"\n\nLucifer looked uncomfortable, which, to this point, I hadn't even thought was possible. Horns, pitchfork, all that, I expected, but a nervous crease in his brow?\n\nSighing, he replied. \"Very well, Mario Kart it is. I suppose you want to set the terms for the game as well.\"\n\nFortune favors the bold, they say. Maybe it favors the stupid, too. I nodded. \"Yes, I do. We're playing 200 cc, frantic mode.\"\n\nA dissatisfied grunt from the master of evil. \"Fine, fine. What course are we racing on?\"\n\nI absentmindedly grabbed the controller that materialized in front of me. \"Rainbow road.\"\n\nLucifer dropped his controller. \"Wait, wait wait wait. I don't understand. Are we playing for your soul, or for my job?\"\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] When you kill someone, it is believed you get their best trait. In reality, you get the trait they think is their best	[ "Charlotte wiped her forehead and entered the bathroom, leaving her water bottle on the bench outside. He glanced around: the hard gusts of wind and rain left the trail empty, save for the most devoted fitness freaks… and him. He twisted her bottle open and poured the little vial into it, careful not to get any on his hands. He positioned it perfectly on the bench before jogging away.\n\nConsidering how careful she was in other aspects of her life, she could be surprisingly careless with her things. \n\nNobody really knew what trait they'd earn until they earned it, but he thought it would be either her brains or her discipline. She had graduated from MIT and was on the path to making 100K, all while maintaining an active social life and a perfect body despite the harsh February climate. He was more equip to handle the exercise after Eli, but none of his victims had given him resistance to cold. At least now, four weeks of winter jogs could finally come to an end.\n\n\n\n- - -\n\nHe knew the poison had done the trick when he felt something wash over him in the shower – a fundamental aspect of him had shifted. He shut off the water and wiped condensation off the bathroom mirror. His face hadn't changed, and neither had the rest of his body. If he had received something nebulous like discipline, the change would reveal itself slowly.\n\nHe dressed quickly, still wondering what the new trait would be, and entered the kitchen. His roommate Marcus sat at the table, eating a bowl of Reese's Puffs in his pajamas. The clock on the wall read 3:12 PM.\n\n“Have you even left the house today?” He asked. Marcus's spoon paused on the way to his mouth.\n\t\t\n“Uh, it’s a Sunday,” he said, as if that answered the question.\n\n“I guess it’s your life to ruin,” he said absently, rummaging through the cabinets. He was craving something healthy for once; maybe that was the change? He could think of worse traits then becoming a healthy eater.\n\nHe heard Marcus set down the spoon. “You okay, dude?”\n\n“Not really,” he said – then froze, dread flashing through his body. What the hell was he saying?\n\n“What’s going on?”\n\n“I guess I just feel kind of guilty-”\n\nHe swallowed the rest of the words threatening to spill out of his mouth. “I’m, uh – going to go to my room for a bit,” he said, running back to his room. Marcus muttered something under his breath.\n\nHe slammed the door, locking it for good measure, before slumping down to the floor.\n“Today is Sunday,” he tested.\n\n“Today is Mon-” Something lurched inside of him, some sense of wrongness at the lie, and the words cut themselves off. “…Uh, Monday?”\n\nCharlotte Pelletier, MIT graduate, confident socialite, and fitness fanatic had valued her honesty above everything else?\n\nHe laughed, the sound choked even to his own ears.\n\n“This won’t end well,” he said out loud, smooth and honest.", "The world changed when you could inherit traits. They day I learned I had spent with my mates. I moved on thinking that nothing would happen. The world would stay the same, not descend into madness.\n\nOh how wrong we were when later that day, when the criminals came out to play. I was in my room when the door was knocked down. A man with great strength was out on the town. He threatened me and brandished a knife. \"I'm sorry child, your life ends tonight.\" I knew the man, he lived down the street. He was the butcher who would beat the meat. I always knew he envied my brain, for I would often hear him complain. \"That kid is too smart for his own good, why do we need someone like that in this neighborhood. My son Kyle always feels dumb, this kids is why he always feels glum!\"\n\nFearing the knife strike as it came my way, I quickly dived much to the butchers dismay. I grabbed the heaviest book on my table, and hit him quite hard in an attempt to disable. He fell and hit his head on the ground, all I heard was the great sound. I suddenly found myself filled up with strength, and realized I had absorbed his favorite trait.\n\nI continued on slaying anyone in my way, gathering all the traits I could as they came my way. Beauty I got from a girl in my school, I justified it saying she never followed the rules. Speed I got from a friend who ran track, I hit him with quite a loud smack. Fearing trouble I wanted to learn how to hide, so I killed the kid whom I thought applied.\n\nAssured of my strength I felt quite strong, but I also knew that something was wrong. Something had changed within my head, I felt as though everything was red. The anger in my mind would not subside, not even with waiting quite a long time. I suddenly heard a voice ending my slaughter, \"Please Sir spare this young daughter.\" A priest pleaded with me, I guess he just wasn't aware of what I could be. A young girl behind him scared I could see. I stabbed the priest, my eyes like a beast's. The young girl looked at me as I began to cry, the girl confused and waiting to die.\n\n\"Why have you spared me sir?\" as her voice rang aloud. I said nothing but felt like I was covered by a shroud. The weight on my soul was too much to bear.\n\nI could tell that it was time to share. \"For every person I kill gain their traits!\" The girl had quite a funny look on her face.\n\n\"I know that mister, just tell me why you spared this young sister.\"\n\n\"Well the priest I just killed had quite a strong power gifted from above.\"\n\n\"What trait is it sir, that saved me from death.\"\n\n\"Well young lady, it was the power of love.\"\n\n\"Well now I guess I won't take my last breath!\" The girl said with a smile. Suddenly all I could taste was poisonous bile. I looked down and there was a knife. In front of my eyes flashed my terrible life. The girl looked at me with that fiendish glare. \"It seems that now you've been caught in my snare.\" A tear rolled down my face as I accepted my fate. I bled out wondering to myself what was my greatest trait.", "Judy was absolutely amazing...or so she claimed.\n\nHer arrogance was nothing short of infuriating. I despised how she looked down upon others,\n\nThe way she treated others simply because she was smarter.\n\nThat's why I did it.\n\nAnd I regret it so, so much.\n\nAs it turns out, you don't get what you like the most about them; you get what they like the most about themselves.\n\nThe thing I didn't realize was that Judy wasn't just rude; she had a severe case of narcissism.\n\nAnd now I look at people the same way she does, becoming the exact thing I hated.", "Most people don't have accidental manslaughter on their record. I have it 33 times.\n\nYou might be wondering why I'm not in prison. It's because I've already earned my punishment, according to every judge I've ever appeared before. In my world—in the off chance you're reading this from a parallel universe—it's rumored that when you kill someone, you inherit their best quality. But like most things, it's not that simple.\n\nImagine I'm leaning toward you conspiratorially. The truth is that you inherit what they think their best quality is, which means that, most of the time, the quality you inherit isn't very good at all. People are baffingly bad at self-assessment.\n\nSo this—\n\n\"Sir, are you enjoying your shrimp?\"\n\nI looked up, surprised to see the waiter by my side. I'm on a date, by the way. The 31st person I accidentally manslaughtered thought they were a really great author.\n\n\"Oh, yes. Sorry about that. I was filling my date in on my past,\" I said, gesturing toward the confused-looking woman across the table. \"I've killed 33 people,\" I said through an oblivious smile.\n\nThe 24th person I killed thought they were very socially adept. Like the author, they were wrong.\n\nThe waiter's eyes grew wider, but he recovered quickly and cleared his throat. \"Of course, sir,\" he said with a curt nod.\n\n\"The shrimp's okay, though,\" I continued happily. \"It would be better if you'd added a cup of cocoa to the batter. You should tell the chef.\"\n\nThe 16th person I killed thought they were a world-class chef. Now I often struggle for hours to find the right setting on my toaster.\n\nThe waiter stared at me for a moment, blinked, and then nodding again. \"Of course. I'll leave you to your meal.\" He turned and strode away at a pace I thought faster than necessary.\n\nOh, I'm not a serial killer, if I didn't make that clear before. Just really, really clumsy. I'm also not negligent or reckless, which is a tough line to walk. I had one judge tell me once that he'd never heard of accidental manslaughter before he met me.\n\nI turned back to Hannah. \"So, which one were we on?\"\n\nFrowning, she pushed rice around on her plate. \"You were telling me about how you're riddled with diseases.\"\n\n\"Not diseases, traits,\" I explained.\n\n\"Right,\" she said, looking around the restaurant, seemingly trying to change the subject. She tucked a stray blonde curl behind her shoulder. \"So, how is the rest of your food?\"\n\n\"It's alright. But I'll be having a better time later,\" I said with a wink. \"Sorry. The 8th person I killed felt they were quite the ladies' man.\"\n\n\"That's... still pretty forward,\" she said awkwardly. She shifted in her seat, putting her fork down.\n\n\"No, that was the 14th person, you moron.\" I cleared my throat. \"So, what made you want to date a murderer anyway? Sorry,\" I said quickly. \"That was the 14th again.\"\n\n\"Well, I saw your classified on the Internet and you seemed—\"\n\nShe was interrupted by my loud slurp. I was tipping my plate over to drink the sauce directly from it. \"Sorry,\" I said as I finished. I dabbed at the stray sauce with my sleeve. \"The 17th person thought they were an expert on etiquette. I guess they read somewhere in a book this was how to behave.\"\n\n\"It's okay,\" she said hesitantly. \"You are certainly proving to be interesting.\" She gave me a small, polite smile.\n\n\"I bet I can guess your bra size,\" I blurted. I felt myself blush. \"S—\"\n\n\"Alright. Yeah, I can't take this much interesting,\" Hannah said. She slid from her chair and gathered her purse.\n\n\"42H!\"\n\nShe glared at me. \"It was... we met, Jason,\" she said. She started to walk away.\n\n\"Wait!\" I called, turning in my chair to face her.\n\nShe turned and placed a hand on the swell of her hip, cocking an eyebrow. \"What?\"\n\nI ran a hand through my hair and sighed. \"Look, it's fine if you want to leave. I get it. It's not easy to date someone like me,\" I said, looking up at her with remorse.\n\nHer expression softened. \"I'm sure you'll find someone, Jason, but this is all just a little much for me.\"\n\n\"I get it, I do. But I have one more thing to ask you.\"\n\nShe dropped her hand to her side, looking at me with a pained expression. \"Yes?\" she said gently.\n\n\"Can you maybe float me $40 to pay for this?\"\n\nAccidental murder number 33 thought she was a financial wizard, while number 6 thought he had a flawless memory.\n\n/r/AlexLoganWriting", "Homos Dukelester grimaced as he pulled the bolt back on his Chicago typewriter, sticky from the blood that covered the black metal and wood. With a leathery flap, he tucked the empty stick mag into a special pocket on his trenchcoat and slung the gun under his arm next to it. Glaring out under his fedora, eyes penetrating the neon-stained shadow, he looked at the warm corpse one more time. He could only see it because his last target was some kind of sharpshooter with eyes like an Eagle. And he'd only got the shooter because the target before him was a scheming son-of-a-gun that knew how to deal with bad match-ups.\n\nThis latest mark, rapidly cooling in the misty rain, was supposed to be some kind of playboy, some superstar that modeled with fancy cars and sweet babes. A real pearl. A pearl that had ticked off some swine. Generally, Dukelester hated shooting the famous ones since he liked laying low, but he wanted to get out of the shooting business and needed more charisma to move up the ladder. He figured since this prettyboy was so popular, he'd be a sure spring of sweet talking skills. \n\nSo why the hell did he suddenly know so much about trains?\n\nHe heard footsteps: cops on the beat. He had to get out of here. There was a taxi waiting for him around the front of Carlonnee's liquor joint. Dukelester peeled the leather gloves off his fingers as slapped them onto the wet cement next to the dead young man, saw the helmeted shadows creeping up the brick wall at the end of the alley and then took off. He jumped the fence with the 'help' of his first mark, an athlete that saw a mob boss in the wrong hotel room, and the slid through the dark and greasy borough towards his ride. \n\nIt would save him two minutes and forty seven seconds if he took the blue line to Tyson's corner, hitched a ride on Metro 34 down to China town and, if it wasn't late again, he could pick pick up the red line to his gritty apartment in Evertown.\n\n\"What the hell?\" Homos growled to himself as he stole across a dark street and stalked past the dark storefronts. He passed a lady smoking out of cigarette holder in front of a hair salon.\n\n\"Hey there mister, you look like you're in a rush. You want to come to my place and... Lay low?\" she beckoned him as he walked past. She flicked her blonde locks over her low-cut dress to try and grab his eye.\n\nHomos stopped a few steps past her. He didn't generally go for that kind of company, but the pigs were a lot thicker than usual and he'd splattered his jacket during the hit. He stuck out.\n\n\"Where's your place?\" He hissed, glancing over his tall collar at the hooker.\n\nShe sidled up behind him \"Oh, it's in 34th and Queen's Lane. It's real quiet there, we could-\"\n\n\"That's right practically on top of King's Station; that place is crawling with coppers.\" He said, then brushed her hand off his shoulder and ducked into another alley. He stopped and leaned against the brick as soon as he was out of sight. Where had that come from? He thought. That kid with the good looks hadn't given him even one ounce off his silver tongue; he'd just given a pound of stupid train crap! Dukelester rubbed his Tommy gun nervously. This hit was getting worse and worse. While the hooker was talking to him, he saw a cop car race toward the body, his gun was empty and the rain was getting worse, freezing him to the bone.\n\nBut, he was almost to the taxi. Homos tightened the strap on his gun and scaled the fire escape at the end of the alley, jumped over a wall that enclosed the backyard of Carlonnee's joint and entered the seedy bar through the back. And froze. His cabbie was in handcuffs under a streetlight, just a few feet away from the tow truck that was holding his cab. And, standing above him, a cop. He was staring straight at Duklester through the rain and darkness.\n\n\"There he is!\" The officer barked, drawing his weapon and firing through the barred window at Homos. The shattering glass and gunshots were deafening through the pattering rain.\n\nThe hit-man cursed and ducked under the bar. He was cornered in here; the only exit was out the front, onto Ketter St. \n\nThe Ketter St. Trolley generally made it's last run at 11:43\n\nHomos clutched his head and cursed again. Why did this damn train knowledge keep coming up?! He needed to think! He could hear another cop kicking down the bar's door; he only had a few seconds. He needed to take stock. The bar had a Colt from The War as a peacekeeper. But it only had three shots in its cylinder. He could take out one cop with that. His Tommy was out of shots, so he unclipped that; it would slow him down. The old shot counting trick he'd picked up during a shoot-out with the Drunken Boys gang told him that the copper on the street had two shots left. But, even if he took out both cops, they'd booted the cab and he couldn't outrun reinforcements.\n\nDukelester checked his watch: 11:48. He may have one move left.\n\nAs the door came off it's hinges, Homos leapt over the bar. The cop shot twice; one shattered a bottle of moonshine, the other struck the Thompson submachine gun in Duklester's hand. Despite the shot, the hit-man threw the gun true and it slammed into the officer with a dull thud, staggering him long enough for Homo's to put a bullet through his head. The other cop also shot twice; the first flew wide, but the second slammed into Dukelester's left shoulder. His right hand drew the Colt up and he replied with his own twin bullets. The cop went down with holes in his lungs and heart. \n\nDukelester could already hear sirens coming down the street. A second later he saw them; the red and blue blurring into purple as the rain and pain washed through him. Be he also heard the trolley, clattering and ringing down the dark tracks.\n\nDukelester threw the empty pistol away and sprinted down the street, straight toward the cop car. They didn't see him yet. The trolley was coming. \n\nThe cabby shouted, \"The other way! The cops are right there! Are you mad?!\"\n\nDukelester leapt into the moving street-train, landing perfectly on the platform on the back. The car whooshed past, sirens blaring and lights blazing, the cop at the wheel didn't even look at the trolley. Homos slinked into the passenger compartment and passed a handful of damp bills to the conductor.\n\n\"What a wild night it is!\" The mustachioed driver remarked as the rain-drenched man in the long leather jacket pulled his fedora off and whipped the water off it, \"Nearly missed you back there through the rain! Haha!\"\n\nHomos was about to say something along the lines of 'yeah, and nearly got me shot for it.' \n\nBut something in the back of his brain kicked in. He caught himself. And finally said, \"You ain't kidding! With a storm like this, I don't blame you for not waiting around.\" And he gave the man a smile. \n\nThe friendly driver returned the expression and beckoned him to sit down and dry off a bit as the trolley rattled through the night. He struck up a conversation about the ghastly weather that had plagued the town lately and Homos realized the talk was flowing from him far more easily than usual.\n\nAs the men talked and the car drove and the lights glowed, Duklester realized this night may not have been a bust after all. Maybe no one he'd shot was the sweet-talker he was looking for, but one of those cops had certainly been proud of their glowing personality. But, Homos realized, that wasn't the most valuable skill he'd gotten. \n\nHe had no clue why he'd picked up trains from that kid, but he was certainly glad he did.\n\n\\---------------------------------------------------\n\nI don't post a lot of stuff in public, so I appreciate any criticism! Especially on the ending; I thought it would wrap up a bit nicer than it did, but I guess I missed a good conclusion somewhere along the line.", "I loved Hannah. \n\nHer peers were envious, of course; we all were from time to time: Hannah had excellent memory. She never had to put numbers in her phone and knew the names of every acquaintance. She made this class look easy. Nobody makes biochemistry look easy. Everybody else struggled. Many promising students dropped out. Without her, I’d be gone with them. \n\nAnd now, on the day of the finals, she isn’t here. Her seat is empty. I crane my neck to see if she sat somewhere else, and for the first time in my life I see the eyes I complimented every day in the face of another student. " ]	6
	[WP] Even though no one's voice ever sounds like they think it should when it's recorded, the words always match. But today ... they didn't.	[ "\". . . Thank you,\" she watched herself say, as the screen went dark and the auditorium burst into applause. She watched herself walk confidently off the stage and take her seat in the front row, just as she remembered doing less than an hour before. She even recognized the applause, of two thousand researchers, entrepreneurs and tech executives clapping in and out of phase, collectively determining the appropriate duration and vigor.\n\nThe recording showed it all, exactly as it had occurred, except for her words.\n\n\"And this is the version that livestreamed around the world?\" she asked the technician again. He nodded again and mumbled something about it being the only version, but she cut him off. \"I need to make a call.\"\n\nAlone in the lobby, her hands shaking, she tapped Jason's pic and the 'voice' icon as soon as she found it on her screen. She was glad to see he had changed his profile pic like she asked. Maybe he wasn't always as immature as he acted in the lab. It didn't matter now, though, she was sure he had compromised their whole project.\n\nThe demonstration she gave that night was a warning about falsified audiovisuals. Up on stage, watching live video of herself give scripted responses in its uncanny, vaguely disturbing approximation of her voice, she had felt so reassured by how much it sounded like a real recording. The audience was impressed, and she felt sure her dire warnings about possible applications of the technology would be heeded dearly.\n\n\"Are you seeing this too?\" Jason's voice sounded familiar, but his urgent tone caught her off guard. \"Is this a prank? I don't understand. Do you actually believe --\"\n\n\"No. Did you do this? I need you to tell me the truth right now. If this wasn't you, it means our software has been stolen. Please tell me this was one of your stupid pranks.\"\n\n\"Stolen, or sold?\" Jason's voice turned accusatory all at once.\n\n\"Oh my god, you're right. No, not that I sold it, I would never. . . That's why they made me sound like some kind of advertisement. They have it, and they want to see it in widespread use. They're trying to sell it to advertisers and political campaigns. They don't want anyone to see the warning I gave, they want them to hear hype and inspiration.\"\n\n\"Do you believe me, then? That I had nothing to do with this?\"\n\n\"Yes, but I still don't know who got access to our software, or how. It's worse that I thought.\"\n\n\"Then I guess this really does work,\" said the voice." ]	1
	[WP] All those people in the psych ward for supposedly killing someone and blaming it on the supernatural were actually telling the truth. Now all their monsters are coming after them, but keep getting in each other's way.	[ "My name is Rick Johnson.\n\nI have been here a total of 169 days. I killed Talia Johnson with my hunting knife. I lied to the courts and claimed a demonic monster had killed her instead. That I could only watch as the monster eviscerated her. I blamed it all on some monster but we all know the truth don't we?\n\nMonsters and demons are just parts of ourselves that we don't wish to believe in.\n\nI killed Talia Johnson. I am Rick Johnson.\n\nI am insane.\n\nThe words run through my mind ceaselessly, repeating like a broken tape recorder. 169 days on, the words are the only thing keeping my sanity intact. They wrap around some small part of my mind, keeping the last bits of my sanity intact.\n\nThe old wooden bed creaks and groans as I stir. Torn yellowed sheets wrinkle as I rise to a sitting position, pulling hard on the grey handcuffs attached to the bar of the bed. The security guard's eyes flicker to me, piercing amber eyes that follow every movement of my bound body, his right hand already gripping onto his baton.\n\nI laugh at the gesture. It seems like something an insane person would do, laughing laughing laughing at anything and everything, even when there was a man holding a weapon standing infront of him.\n\nI am insane.\n\nSo I laugh and i wheeze, as if being in the psych ward for killing my wife and blaming it on the supernatural was the most natural thing in the world.\n\nThe security guard snarls at me, but goes no further. His meaty hand remains firmly on his retractable baton.\n\nI lose interest, and nonchantly pass my gaze around the ward.\n\n12 beds in this section, each one old and broken-down. Only 10 of the beds were currently occupied. The other 2 had been sent for emergency medical treatment due to injuries incurred from fights.\n\nEvery night, despite being restrained to our beds, the 12 of us would find a way to fight and harm each other. Some nights no one got hurt. But those were few and far between. I had broken many arms and legs before. I love to fight and harm and even kill. \n\nI am insane.\n\nI look across the room full of drooling, immobile people. Some chanting to themselves, some struggling against their iron chains, some trying unendingly to lick their elbows.\n\nWe all are.\n\nI look out the tiny window and see the last traces of sunlight begin to die. Somewhere at the core of my being, I feel someone emerging.\n\nThe palpable tension spikes in the ward, each patient recognising what's about to come.\n\nThe night has come. The hunt is here.\n\nI am insane.\n\nRoiling darkness sweeps across the land.\n\nI am insane.\n\nA whirring sound in the distance.\n\nI am-\n\nGradually getting louder and louder and louder. Some part of me takes over, hands moving smoothly, retrieving the metallic key from my pillow and releasing myself. I idly wonder who is controlling my body. But then again, perhaps its normal, especially since I am-\n\nI am-\n\nI-\n\nI falter. My lie unravels.\n\nI leap smoothly to my feet, crouching down and grabbing at the underneath of my bed. All around me the other 9 patients mimic my actions. \n\nI am Rick Johnson.\n\nThe security guard looks dazed and confused, gradually closing his eyes and settling into a heap on the floor. A normal human being can't handle the stress of being in close proximity to the demons.\n\nI did not kill my wife. I was wrongly convicted and disbelieved by everyone.\n\n\"Ready in 20!\" I roar, and the others move a little quicker, straining to arm themselves with the smorgasbord of weapons accrued from months of fighting the demons.\n\nI have been here for a total of 169 days.\n\nI unsheathed my golden rapier, the Holy Silencer, and dropped into a ready stance.\n\nAnd every single night, I have helped to fend off the demons that come for us.\n\nWith my other hand, I quickly cocked my silver revolver and pointed it straight at the window.\n\nIt feels like I had to pretend I was insane in order to not become insane. To be disbelieved by everyone when I told them the truth crushed me.\n\nThe whirring nouse grew deafening. The 10 of us stood in formation, ready to meet the charge, our faces set with grim determination.\n\nBetter to pretend the world is right when everyone else is wrong. A monster had killed my wife, but it had been humans that had killed me.\n\nI took a deep breath. The floorboards creaked. Impending doom felt almost upon us. A screeching sound joined the cacophony of noise, erupting all around us.\n\nMy name is Rick Johnson.\n\nThe wall explodes into pieces. Swarms of demons in the distance charge at us.\n\n\"Engage!\" I scream, before my voice is lost among everythinf, firing my gun into the dark.\n\nI am not insane." ]	1
	[WP] - You are out shopping and look out the window. You are the first to realize the sun is blowing up. It will probably be a few minutes before anything impactful hits the Earth. Go.	[ "###Glow Sticks###\n\n\nThe day was monstrously hot. \n\nPaper curled into powder. Trees mummified in their parks. Stone blistered, concrete cracked. People ducked in and out of doorways. I hope the weather changes. I need better air conditioning. We’re running out of cold water.\n\nHalfway up the horizon, the sun hung limp. Coils of cloud wrapped like rope, dragging it across the sky. Scientists sprung onto TV with fancy explanations, shiny and slick on their tongues. It’s all a part of global warming. Strange stellar phenomena. A priest offered a better explanation. Repent, for this is a sign of god’s rage.\n\nI didn’t feel the heat that much. The bus kept a cool temperature all the way from home to school, even with the sweat of 30 teenagers. A frigid winter wonderland. Somebody completed it by drawing a snowflake on the window. People copied, adding dinosaurs or dicks or dictator’s fat faces. Still, the snowflake remained. Still written in perspiration, still scalpeled onto the window.\n\nStill somehow impossible in this heat. \n\nI remember feeling the tires slow down as the rubber lost its cohesion. Slopping up, dissolving into black foam. When we jumped off to school, school shoes nipping at each other's heels, I knew that the bus wouldn’t move again. Before the crowd shepherded me inside the school doors, I swung around. \n\nDepending on the day, Dave (an old family friend) would be driving. Today was one of those handfuls of days. The moment I got on the bus, he’d greeted me with a wave of chilled peace. Banging hot today, innit? Dave smoked a lot of pot. It was one of the reasons he didn’t drive the bus often (it was one of the reasons our family tried to cut him off).\n\nSure thing, I’d muttered. It was super obvious to say how strange the weather had been. That was Dave’s thing, though. Point out the obvious because of a few seconds before he was oblivious.\n\nI tried to wave goodbye, Dave swung me a smile, and I was tugged back by the teenage tide. As I moved, I caught the light shining off the exposed wheel rims. They sparkled a tarnished silver. \n\nThe day moved on sluggishly, like the world was afraid of time burning up behind it. At least the inside of school was cold. Water bubblers whispered, water bottles wandered close to hands. Most of the air conditioning units functioned fine. The fans danced wildly inside every classroom. Watching them made me feel sick, feverish. If you stared at them too long, you’d find the world spinning. Like glow sticks, weaving out spells on Halloween night. Follow their trails too long and you spurn the stars.\n\nMost of my lesson spun past, except for HPE. It snagged on the end of the day, left the class and I drinking up the shade. Six of us had sunburn somehow. Big swathes of skin flaking off like bark. I could feel my mouth swell up with spit, trying vainly to curb my thirst.\n\nSchool slipped past and I got swept out into town. My parents would be working till five, I reminded myself. The mall sprung into my mind, bobbing in the sea of thoughts with its comforting scent of burgers and coffee. I wander that way, patting my phone in my pocket. My parents could pick me up from there. Saves having to catch the bus.\n\nBeside me, rippling in a storm of angry glares and buzzing calls, was the rest of the bus kids. As I’d seen in the morning, most of the tires had melted off the buses.\n\nTo the mall.\n\nThe day was monstrously hot, but the mall was trillion times worse. Pigeons sat puffed in the rafters, addicted shoppers shooting up with smeared makeup in the thrift stores. A few lost (or deliberated abandoned?) kids screamed with red faces, smelling like melted chocolate and shit. \n\nI popped into a few choice stores, mainly the ones that sold games or cool shoes or tech. Even with the hideous heat, I could enjoy the nice things in life. \n\nBy accident, I wandered into the grocers. That’s when I heard the voices on the radio. Eclipse, explosion, end-of-life, extinction, evasion. Some adults, mainly staff, sprinted out. An hour at the most with current models. \n\nMy pocket jittered to life. Mum’s calling me, I thought. \n\nI started to answer as the battery shook the screen to black. \n\nMy stomach rumbled. I took a short sprint to the bakery, licking my lips at the rows of glazed doughnuts. \n\nBest to go out in a blaze of glory.\n\nOutside in the hallway, the skylight shattered and the pigeons vaporized. My sticky fingers managed to plow one last donut to my teeth, my tongue savors a swallow of sweetness.\n\nThen black.\n\nThen the white burned all of that away.\n", "Like most people I never gave much thought to what would happen the day I die. It's kind of morbid and depressing to even think about it, the temporary lease we all have to our residence on this planet. I'm sure JFK didn't think he'd be parading around Dallas when he bit the bullet... Literally. Jeeze that sounded insensitive. But you get my point, none of us know the circumstances of our demise or what we'd be doing when that moment arrived.\n\nI do.\n\nAt least, I do now. I'm just an everyday Joe working as a number cruncher for a big financial firm, no astrophysicist or rocket scientist. Excel is my friend and I can usually do 5 and 6 digit multiplication in my head faster than you can open the calculator app on your phone. I'm not bragging, I am just good with calculation, it's probably the only thing I do quickly and on time. I'm also a notorious procrastinator. Remember when you were a kid and had to do all those college applications and essays? Mine were always done at the last minute. I mean if the paper work was due by midnight, I'd be attaching the forms to an email at 11:59 PM.\n\nIt's a terrible habbit, I always have some excuse for postponing the inevitable. Usually it's my own mind wandering and daydreaming that gets me into these binds for time. Thinking about philosophical conundrums - the trolly problem always gets me - you try solving the devils arithmetic, switch the tracks and kill the baby or stay on course and slaughter the construction workers? Or thinking up new ways to fold the laundry faster, I mean do socks really need to be in those rolled up balls? Or how I can get away from Ross at work when he starts moaning and groaning about his soon to be ex-wife? But sometimes it's just indecision, as in I don't know what to do, which option out of multitudes do I go with? What do I want for dinner? I could stay home and cook the three week old chicken in the freezer, go to Chilli's for some chips and salsa, or try out that new Chinese buffet that opened up last week! The choices are overwhelming and getting lost in the spectacle of your own thoughts so enticing.\n\nThe speed of light, C , is a constant like Pi or e. This means nothing short of the laws of the universe changing will make it so these constants vary. I owe warning about the next 7 minute of my life to C. Light from the sun takes 8 minutes and 20 seconds, to be exact, to reach earth. Light is the cosmic speed limit, nothing goes faster, and I the sun just explode. By my calculations I've got just under 6 and a half minutes before the 5700 degree Kelvin fiery gas that made this ball of light shine for billions of years reaches the planet and scorches us all. It's like we are all JFK, only this time we see the bullet coming for us before we even got off Air Force One and no one can do anything about it.\n\nSo, Mr. Calculator as you may call me, what do you do in the remaining 5 and a half minutes of your life? What's your plan? High five that kid on a skateboard that just landed the kick flip? Kiss the pretty girl next to you on the cross walk for one last expression of love and desire? Or sit here and watch the subdued rainbow of colors dancing in the sky from the cosmic rays bouncing and deflecting off our depleting magnetic field? Well I'll tell you, I still have 4 minutes till the deadline." ]	2
	[WP] Although you don't remember half of last night - and you have no idea how you got home - you had a great time. Now you're staring at a fresh new dent in your car's front bumper. More curiously: it's got a red palmprint on it.	[ "Hit and Run. \n\nOn the Thursday, I worked late, not finishing until 10:30, it was the latest in a long series of long days. I was tired as I got into my car for the drive home. I got home and pressed the button on the dashboard to open the garage door.\nThe door opened, and I drove in and parked. I stepped round the front of the car and opened the door into the kitchen. Gwen, my wife, was sitting watching TV, in the lounge, I walked over to give her a kiss, and she said, “what’s that mess on the leg of your trousers.?”\nI looked down and saw blood on my leg. I said, “I don’t know, my leg doesn’t feel sore.” Gwen said, “take your trousers off so we can see if you have hurt yourself, and more importantly, I can get those trousers in to soak, blood is difficult to get out.”\nI took my trousers off, but there was not a mark on my leg. Gwen took my trousers out to put them into soak. About two minutes later, she called me, “Tony, come here a second, can you.?” I walked through the kitchen and into the garage/utility room. \n\nGwen was kneeling looking at the front of my BMW. I looked as well, the front bumper was splashed with blood, imbedded in the blood was strands of blonde hair. \nGwen said, “what happened?” I said, “I don’t know, I left work, I drove home, I parked in the garage, that’s all I can remember.”\nI said, “what do I do, phone the police?” Gwen said, “don’t be hasty, it’s late, 11:00. Not many people would be around, the chances are nobody saw you. Let’s clean the blood from your car, it doesn’t look like there’s any damage.” She continued, “let’s wait and see what happens.”\nShe put my trousers into soak, and washed the blood from the car. I sat and drank a large scotch before going to bed. I had nightmares about the person I had knocked over. I woke up in the early hours, soaked in sweat. \nI spent the rest of the night sitting on the sofa, watching the news, to see if there was any news of the person I had hit. I phoned in sick, my boss wasn’t happy, but he had to accept it. \nAll day I sat in front of the tv, flicking through channels looking for news channels. Finally, at 6:30pm, the local news came on, the lead story was about a hit and run.\nA local man had been knocked down as he ran across the road from the park at about 10:45 pm last night, police were appealing for witnesses, Mr Todd Adamson, remains in a critical condition in hospital. \nGwen said, “at least he isn’t dead, that’s one thing. Now what are we going to do now.?” \nI sat frozen to the spot, my mind racing, I said, “the first thing is to get the car cleaned properly, so, If I take it to the drive through car wash on the high street, that will get it clean, then tomorrow, I’ll take it to one of the hand car wash places, that way it will be really clean. Meanwhile if you take my trousers to the dry cleaners, that will remove any traces of blood.”\nOver the weekend more details of the hit and run came out, a nineteen-year-old woman came forward and said that she was being chased by Mr Adamson, after he tried to attack her in the park. \nShe said, that she was crossing the park, when she was attacked, she managed to break free, ran across the road, just avoiding a car, but thought that it had hit Mr Adamson. \nThe police asked her what sort of car it was, but she said she didn’t know. Police checks in to Todd Adamson found he had a criminal record going back several years, for offences ranging from sexual assault, up to rape, comparison of his DNA, showed his connection with lots of other crimes. \nWhen he recovered, he was arrested and charged with thirteen charges of rape, thirty cases of serious sexual assault, he was sentenced to thirty-five years. \nThe hit and run was never solved. \ncopyright Phil Wildish." ]	1
	[WP] You wake up in an unfamiliar and empty diner. You find you are clean shaven and dressed in a suit, which is odd as you know for a fact that you’ve spent the last six months homeless and without a job. You look outside and see that it is night and that you recognize none of the buildings.	[ "I turned from the window, to see that the diner wasn't empty anymore. A man sat across from me, in a smart grey suit. He wore a deep purple tie with matching pocket square and as I looked up to his face i saw his eyes too were that incredible colour. I looked down at my own suit. Grey like his. Blue tie. Blue pocket square.\n\n\"Welcome to your second chance Ryan.\"\n\nHis voice held no trace of an accent. He reached over to a bowl of sugar cubes, dropping one into a steaming cup of coffee now before him. With a start, I noticed an identical cup in front of me.\n\nWhat the fuck?\n\nI opened my mouth to speak but he held up a small spoon, still dripping coffee, waving it and shaking his head. \n\n\"This will go more smoothly if I speak first and I will no doubt answer your questions as I do so. How do I know your name for example? Well that one is easy. We have been watching you for some time.\"\n\nI glanced around the diner, searching for another person. No one. The diner itself looked spotless, as if it had been reconstructed as a museum piece. I gripped one shaking hand with the other and notice that even my nails had been cut, perfectly manicured and scrubbed.\n\n\"You've been down on your luck for some time Ryan. Sleeping rough. Eating scraps. You had maybe a few weeks, a month at best, before your pathetic existence was ended.\"\n\nI stood, a swell of anger blooming in my chest. My time on the streets had enabled me to get used to the judgement of others but it still stung to be lectured by some stranger. As I turned to leave the booth, I felt his stare on me, those intense purple eyes. His face did not change, nor did he say anything but I felt an all-encompassing fear wash over me. It was like being at the zoo and turning to see a lion had stalked up to you, its huge teeth inches from the glass. I sat down.\n\n\"Good. There was nothing for you. Your life was meaningless. We are here to change that.\"\n\nThe man lifted his cup to his lips and drank, draining the steaming coffee in one long swill. He exhaled slowly and laid his hands casually on the table. \n\n\"What do you see outside Ryan?\"\n\nI turned my head unconsciously and looked back out the window. It was a city, tall buildings and dimly lit streets. It was not a city I was familiar with. It was not the city I had gone to sleep in. As I watched a light across the street flickered and a darker black briefly appeared in the shadows, almost a human shape but twisted, stretched. I unclenched my hands, feeling the sting from the small red semi circles embedded in the flesh.\n“Where the fuck am i?”\n“I suppose one question wouldn’t hurt. Do not do it again. We do not have a name for this place. It is simply one of the many different realities. Your mundane life is not the only realm in the Universe you see. There are thousands. Some are paradises. Some are wastelands.”\nThe man picked up a fork and stabbed into a slice of cherry pie that now sat before him. My eyes widened and I felt my eyes drawn inexorably downwards. As I had expected a slice of fresh pie was in front of me also. Apple. My favourite.\n“So why does this concern you? Well because this is you second chance. Your new job shall we say. My agency takes Earth’s undesirables and lets them be explorers of brave new worlds. This is the world we have chosen for you Ryan. Your job is to see if it’s suitable for habitation.”\nAs he finished speaking the lights in the diner flickered and the door towards the back banged open as if a strong gust of wind had hit it. I turned to see the man rising, moving smoothly out of the booth. \n“Good luck Ryan. We’ll be in touch.”\nThe lights flickered again before going out completely this time. In the darkness my heart was a thumping metronome and I had to force myself not to look back out the window. As my eyes began to adjust, there was a loud click and the lights snapped back on. The man was gone. I glanced at the table. A half-eaten cherry pie was pushed to the side and in its place was a folded piece of paper and an oddly shaped handgun. \n\n\nr/AMSWrites", "Ezekiel \"Ezey\" Yzaguirre awoke in a red leather booth, hunched over a white formica table. His senses kicked as his eyes fluttered open. The first thing he noticed was a hunger inside him as if he had not eaten in months when he knew it had only been a couple of days. As his eyes adjusted to the bright interior of the diner he noticed what looked like a fresh hamburger on his table in a small plastic orange basket. Next to the hamburger was a pile of steaming hot french fries, with a tall glass of dark soda condensating next to the basket. \n\n\"Well, I guess I'm dead,\" Ezey reached for the food without hesitation but noticed the dark sleeves of his suit as he pulled the food closer to him. He brought a french fry to his mouth, then looked down at his suit. He realized he did not feel any hair when he ate the fry and brought his hands up to feel his face. \n\n\"Not exactly,\" a male voice said. Ezey turned to look for the source and noticed a man with a chestnut crewcut, and a suit matching the one Ezey wore, seated on one of the stools at the counter. Upon realizing he was not alone in the diner Ezey quickly grabbed the burger and bit into it. The man chuckled and stood from his stool to slide into the red booth across from Ezey. \"Don't worry, it's not going to get taken away, and it's free of charge.\" The stranger's hand dipped beneath the table. He brought it back up holding another burger basket with steaming hot fries. \"As much as you like.\" Ezey swallowed his bite, then washed it down with soda. \n\n\"What does that mean, 'not exactly'?\" he asked then took another bite of the burger. Though this time it was a smaller bite that he took his time chewing. \n\n\"It means you are. Unless you don't want to be.\" The stranger's hand dipped below the table then returned with a white folder. He placed the folder on the table and opened it to reveal a short stack of papers. He lifted the top sheet and handed it to Ezey. \n\n\"I'm pretty okay staying here with the food,\" Ezey grabbed the offered sheet and looked it over. His eyes widened, then he glanced at the next sheet in the stack. Without waiting for permission he grabbed the whole stack and leafed through them. \n\n\"Why do you have these?\" he asked the man. A flash of anger coursed down his spine and his grip tightened around the sheets, crumpling the corner in his hand. \"You're the reason I haven't found work in six months!?\" The stranger gently shook his head. \n\n\"The originals that you filled out all went to the employers that you submitted them too, these are duplicates. They're visual aids to help explain why you're here.\" Ezey turned to look at the diner around them, then he focused on the stranger again. \n\n\"Can we start with how I got here, before I ask you to explain where 'here' is?\" Ezey asked. He calmed down enough to start picking at the fries again. The stranger nodded.\n\n\"You died. The details aren't important, that life is over. However, we have a position open,\" the stranger gestured at the white folder. \"You aren't the only one considering the position but given your eagerness to work, we came to you first.\" Ezey's mouth hung open enough to show a pale white ball of mush. He closed his eyes, swallowed the frenchfry he was working on, then took a moment to take a breath. \n\n\"Am I working for Heaven or Hell?\" he asked. A slight smirk crept up the left side of the stranger's face. \n\n\"Neither, but both. We're the Middlemen. We just sort people out and get them to where they want to go.\" Ezey looked surprised.\n\n\"Where they want to go? Don't you mean where they deserve to go?\" Again the stranger gently shook his head.\n\n\"If you take the job, you'll learn as you go. People are funny, but they always get what they think they deserve. Even if they don't realize it.\" \n\n\"What if I don't take the job?\" Ezey asked. The stranger shrugged, closed the white folder, then held it up to show Ezey. \"You're already filed into Heaven. If you don't take the job you move on to there.\" Ezey's put another french fry in his mouth as he debated. \n\n\"I should tell you though, there's no food in Heaven. There's no need for it, you'll never feel hungry.\" the stranger said. \n\n\"Oh.\" He finished chewing his fry, then swallowed it. \"I'll take the job, where do I sign?\" \n\n\\\\\\*\n\nThank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day in 2018, this is #212. You can find them collected on my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order." ]	2
	[WP] “Just to be clear,” the Guide looks at your research group, “If you take a single photo of the relic- no, even attempt to sketch it, you WILL be shot on sight.” You nod, careful not to draw attention to the pen camera in your shirt pocket.	[ "Dr. Randall Blair flinched as the sack was wrenched roughly from his head. Light flooded his eyes at it's absence, his hand raising instinctively to block the harsh glow from overhead. \n\nPupils constricting, Blair took a quick scan of his surroundings. He stood in line with the others, the bright red of the jumpsuits contrasting the dull grey of the concrete floor and walls of the chamber. Several people ahead, a pair of soldiers marched briskly down the line, one dragging the thick, dark bags from their heads while the other cradled a sub machine gun, bristling with attachments. More men in similar garb stood like grey and black statues along the walls, thick vests holding even more tactical gear.\n\nReaching the end of the line, the two troops stopped on either side of the grizzled man standing ahead. His dark coat was pressed immaculately, his eyes like chips of ice staring hard at the group. A large sight blazed orange on the wall above his head, Fotografie Verboten written in bold lettering over a picture of a camera, crossed lines slashing through it.\n\n\"I will say zis one more time.\" the officer growled, his voice thickened further by the heavy German accent. \"Anyone caught attempting to record the artifact in any way will be shot on sight. The government vill deny your coming here should zis occur... \"\n\nBlair rubbed his right eye uncomfortably, feeling the contact move under his lid. \"Once activated, the lens will record all that you see.\" the voice from inside the car had said, obliviously through a speech synthesizer. \"Return it to me, and the deal will be complete.\" \n\nApprehension blooming in his chest, Blair blinked three times quickly, followed by two slower ones, careful be as natural as possible. A moment later, a dim red light pulsed gently in the corner of his vision, just as the voice had said. \n\nBlair glanced quickly at the soldier standing to his left. Thankfully, the man remained as still as ever. Taking a deep breath, Blair felt some of the tension leave his body, tugging at the scratchy jumpsuit where it chafed against his bare flesh. He took a half step in the process, shoe finding the foot of the women standing next to him.\n\n\"Sorry.\" he muttered, jerking back to stand rigidly like the others.\n\nA hand of iron clenched around his arm, a knife of terror ripping through his chest as he was tugged from the line, his face an inch from a glinting black visor.\n\n\"Sie bliben RUHIG, verstanden?!\" a deep voice roared from behind the mask, the man's hot breath smelling of stale coffee. Blair tried to flinch away, but the vise of his arm held fast.\n\n\"VERSTANDEN?!\" the soldier shook him, his piercing gaze boring through him from behind the glass. Blair could not see the eyes, but a deep rooted feeling told him that his cover was blown. \n\nAn image flashed through his mind, a small, skeletal girl laying on a bed, the last few strands of golden hair clinging to her smooth scalp, big, innocent eyes staring at him has machines beeped and whirred around them.\n\nJust as quickly, the image changed, hundreds of green faces grinning back at him as one of the men in black opened the suitcase.\n\nThe hard, gloved hand shoved him back into line, bringing him back to the bunker. Pale faces glanced nervously back at him, the officer glaring silently as the group turned back to face him.\n\n\"You vill NOT\" he continued, the chips of ice swinging back to Blair \"speak to one another.\"\n\nThe uniformed man turned abruptly on his heel, swiping a card on a small black box behind him. The massive steel door slid open silently, revealing another long corridor ahead. \n\nBoots rung loudly on the hard floor, the sound echoing up and down the spacious tunnel as they marched. Blair stepped cautiously, not daring to brush up against anyone. Occasionally, he slid a surreptitious glance at the soldier. The man kept pace stiffly, one arm swinging in an exaggerated movement while the other rigidly gripped his rifle. \n\nThe soldier halted suddenly, Blair flicking his gaze back in front of him just in time to avoid running into the man in front of him. The officer had turned to face them again.\n\n\"Ten minuten\" he said briskly, gesturing to the door on his left. \n\nThe space was instantly cramped, twenty bodies crowding around the glass cube in the center while more troops pressed in along the walls. Blair shouldered his way through the crowd of red, eyes fixed on the object.\n\n\"So its all true...\" he thought, in wonder.\n\nThe glass of the case must have been three inches thick, a thin web of steel woven throughout the walls boasting of it's strength. Within, twin voids seemed to drink in the light of the suffocating room.\n\nThe eyes of the thing seemed elongated, stretching upwards towards the temples. Six small holes sat in a circle where a human skull should have two, and in space of teeth smooth bone as black as the deepest corners of space formed a pointed chin.\n\nBlair stared, hypnotized, at the midnight skull. \"The're not even so different.\" he pondered, mind wandering to the countless monstrosities he had poured over in his research. \n\nFeeling an impatient finger rapping on his shoulder, Blair relinquished his front row seat, a small women worming her way into the space he had occupied. He turned to leave the group, but was stopped by a tower of pressed wool and countless medals.\n\nHe looked up in shock, the cold, blue eyes meeting his own as he meekly turned to move around the man. Instead, a leathery hand curled around his chin, forcing the face of chiseled stone back into the center of his view.\n\nTime stood still as the officer's gaze burned into his own. Pools of emotionless indifference met his own nervous terror, painfully aware of the light still pulsing in the corner of his vision. Suddenly, the face of stone melted to shock and alarm.\n\n\"Er hat was im Auge!\" the man bellowed, forcing Blair to his knees. The sound of steel on leather whispered behind him, followed by gasps and a women's muffled shriek. \n\n\"I'm sorry, she meant the world to me too\" a hand caressed his shoulder, tears stinging his eyes as he knelt next to the coffin, a women lying peacefully within.\n\n\"I'm sorry, but your insurance won't cover that\" the nurse winced, her face a mask of sympathy as the girl clutched his hand.\n\n\"I'm sorry, but the museum doesn't need an extraterrestrial specialist anymore\" the curator sighed, letting the polished mahogany door fall shut in his face. \n\n\"I want it back\" the robotic voice hissed from the dark van, a pair of multifaceted orbs glittering from the void. \n\nBang", "The line stretched back across the great square, an insane monster of a thing, stretching down the square's huge length, flipping 90 degrees, then 90 degrees again and then a parallel line of people. On and on almost 50 such lines, each hundreds of feet long, a body length wide. \n\nAll over the square the Swiss Guards roam, the threat of their automatic bullpup assault rifles belied by their clownish red and white uniforms, the same ones from hundreds of years before.\n\nSome things had changed since the church's resurgence, and others most certainly had not.\n\nIvan got on line 24 hours earlier. There was no point when the line dissipated. There was no day or hour where the relic was not on public display, it's power available for a price. \n\nTo get in required the payment of alms. The amount demanded had increased year over year as the church's role quickly progressed in the aftermath of the discovery, from renewed spiritual guide straight to a mafia style protection racket. \n\nIvan was actually ill, albeit by choice. Some people did come to bear witness without a firm diagnosis - the \"better safe than sorry crowd\" - many came just to pray before the thing, any healing effects being purely incidental to the satisfaction of their religious fervor. \n\nBut to come without proof of illness subjected you to heightened scrutiny, and a man trying to do what Ivan was about to try and do could nary afford a single extra eyeball watching him.\n\nSo Ivan purposefully infected himself with Hep C. It wasn't hard, a local junkie was more than willing to help him out in exhange for some cash. \n\nOnce he was certain the disease had had time to spread its roots, Ivan got a confirmed diagnosis from a doctor, had him print out a letter, and then bought a one-way flight to Rome.\n\nNow he waited on the worlds longest line, a mere ten feet from his goal. As he progressed in the line the security became more and more intensive. What began as a smattering of Swiss Guards, by the end, turned into a veritable army. These final fifty feet of the line passed between two rows of the fluffy red soldiers, each armed to the teeth and standing ram rod straight. \n\nIvan wasn't worrying too much yet, although he should have been, since he'd already passed the point of no return. Before the last fifty feet of the line, anyone could exit at anytime, no questions asked. Thousand of people every week left the line early, giving up on futile hopes of snapping a photo. The ample signage along the route, warning that photographs and photography equipment of any kind with be met with hails of gunfire, usually did their job. \n\nIt was the rare individual with nefarious intent who allowed themselves to go past the point of no return. After the fifty foot mark, there was no longer any leaving the line, or avoiding the strip search which was conducted on each believer before entering the chapel. \n\nSo far, in the eleven years since the relic was discovered, no one had taken its photo. No one except the vatican scientist, Gerlando Talgiani, the man originally tasked with assessing whether or not the relic contained actual miraculous properties. \n\nHe was called to the scene of its discovery, to isolated Bloomington, Idaho, where reports were coming in of a Cult of Christ among the towns 200 or so residents. Rumor had it that an object of miraculous power had been sent by God and that all who gazed upon it were healed. \n\nTalgiani was dubious. A cynic even. That is why he was sent. In all his years investigating for the church, he had never found a bonafide miracle. \n\nWhen Talgiani reported back that the relic was real, its powers legitimate, its origins undeniably holy, well, the vatican sort of lost its shit. They freaked. The details are not well understood, and probably never will be, but word is they tried to destroy it, to burn Bloomington to the ground and pretend the whole thing never happened. \n\nOnly Tagliani himself stopped them, by making an announcement to the world. Soon enough believers from all over the planet were flocking to Bloomington to be healed, and soon enough the Church had to back down and either accept the relic or fall into obscurity. \n\nNeedless to say they accepted. The relic was brought to Rome, and put on public display, at first for a voluntary donation, but eventually at an ever growing flat rate. \n\nTagliani was disgusted by the whole enterprise. They say he lost it. Certainly seemed that way when he self immolated in protest on top of the alter in the Basilica. \n\nBut back to that one photo. They say, in order to convince the Pope, Tagliani took a photo back to Rome and, somehow, the mere image of the relic still worked its magic, healing the Pope himself of his rheumatism.\n\n\nThe photo was destroyed of course and since then photography has been violently controlled. For good reason. Whoever wields that photo wields the power to heal anyone on Earth. \n\nIt was Ivan's turn. A Swiss Guard waved him forward to a small booth, all in red velvet. Inside a man with a stoic expression spoke in English.\n\n\"Empty your pockets and strip.\"\n\nIvan's heart was racing. This was it. He followed the soldier's orders, placing his meager possessions on a small table next to his clothes.\n\nThe soldier inspected Ivan, thoroughly, and then turned to his possessions. He looked at each in turn, his glasses, his wallet, his key ring and, at last, his pen. \n\nIvan held his breath. That pen, the design of that pen, paying the man who made that pen, had cost Ivan over three million dollars. It was all the money he, or anyone of his family members, would ever have in the world and Ivan had stolen it all to bet on this one, batshit venture. The pen bore an absolutely minute camera with just enough memory for a single high definition photo. It was activated by a specific pattern of presses on the spring loaded button at the bottom. \n\nThe man fingered it carefully, eyed it judiciously. He took off the cap and to Ivan's horror, he looked directly into the miniscule lens. Does he see it? Is this the end?\n\nFinally the man capped the pen and placed it on the counter. Turning to Ivan he said. \"Sir, dress yourself, take your belongings, wait for that green light to go on, and then enter the chapel. You shall have ten seconds of solitude with the relic and then you will be escorted out. Attempt to leave the premarked path, or to linger after the signal to leave, and you will be shot. Do you understand everything I've said?\"\n\nIvan nodded, high as a kite on adrenaline. \n\n\"May God be with you.\"\n\nWith that the man left. Ivan, as if in a dream, got dressed, put away his belongings and held onto the pen, twirling it nervously in his hand. The inspection was the last obstacle, for obvious reasons there were no cameras inside the chapel.\n\nThe light turned green and Ivan entered through red velvet curtains. A path lead through the center of the Sistine Chapel where a kind of glass obelisk stood. Ivan approached it speedily and gazed upon the relic. \n\nObviously he'd heard rumors of what it looked like, and he'd never seen a photo, but somehow, this just wasn't what he was expecting. \n\nInside the glass casing, behind thick bulletproof glass, carefully held on a delicate golden tripod, was a piece of toasted white bread. If Ivan squinted his eyes, just so, he could sort of make out the basic outline of a blurry face. \n\nThe face of Jesus Christ. \n\nIvan shrugged. He had to admit, he felt about a hundred times better than he did before he'd come in. Even the stuffy nose he picked up waiting in the smoggy line in the middle of urban Rome cleared up completely. He looked down at his hand and watched an old scar there disappear before his eyes. He felt as if he had been reborn.\n\nCognizant of his limited time, he opened the pen, pressed the button in the correct pattern, and snapped his photo. He'd done it. \n\nHe should have been excited. All that money that would be coming his way should have had him on clous nine. And anyway, he didn't believe in this stuff. Still he spent his last couple of seconds looking at that toast with a solemnity he could hardly explain in words. \n\nThe light up ahead turned red, indicating his time to leave. Awkwardly, unsure, Ivan gave the piece of toast the sign of the cross and ran out.\n\n******\n#### For More Legends From The Multiverse\n\n## r/LFTM\n" ]	2
	[WP] At first, your were only supposed to be in prison for a few months at most. But as it went on, the law kept making up new crimes that you didn't actually do, adding more and more time to your sentence. Now you're on death row.	[ "Jonah knew his past would come back and haunt him one day. He knew there would be consequences but he didn't care. Until a few days ago. \n\n\"Jonah up! Take a piss if you have to and do it quick. Warden wants to see you\", said the prison guard. It was the fourth time this month the warden wanted to have a little chat. Jonah drags himself out of the bed. \n\n\"You wanted to see me warden?\" \n\n\"You fucking bet. After what you did, I'm surprised you didn't turn yourself in\" \n\n\"What? No not this again. You cannot--\" \n\n\"Shut up. Look at you strolling about so calmly after running over 8 people. Killing 5 of them.\"\n\n\"What the--\" \n\n\"Before you say anything Jonah, we have evidence. Multiple videos of your little road rage five years ago. You're sick in the head. It needs to stop. Forever.\" \n\n\"What do you mean?\" \n\n\"They're putting you on the death row\", warden said smiling, \"and I don't know about the world but this prison would surely be a better place without you lurking around\" \n\nJonah is horrified. He stares at the warden, starting to sweat. His throat goes dry and jaw shakes. He looks up at the camera and says, \"Vince. Is that you?\" \n\nThe loudspeaker in the room gets activated. Jonah hears someone clearing their throat. A moment later, a calm voice fills the room. \n\n\"Hello Jonah this is Vince, can you hear me?\" \n\n\"Yes\" \n\n\"I told you I'd come back. Remember the first day you worked for me? What did I say to you? I said, it's a REALLY bad idea to poke your fucking nose in my business. There are already a ton of people fighting against human trafficking. You could have made your money and retired. But no, you HAD to fuck with my business. You HAD to save those worthless slaves. It cost me too much Jonah. You made sure it blew up. I'm back on my feet again but I want you to know what it means to fight me. I can come in and blow your head out anytime..but I'll let you rot in prison till they hang you. I'm adding more crimes to your list. Gotta make them more interesting this time. Toodles\"" ]	1
	[WP] All your life you've denied the idea of God. You're on your death-bed, you closed your eyes and accepted death as it is. A moment later, you woke up in a really bright place. An angel greeted you and asked "How did it feel like? To live among your beloved humans?". It turns out, you are God.	[ "If the leading cause of death were “old age” we’d all live as long as Moses. No, the leading cause is suicide. Don’t believe me? How often have you just not wanted to wake up to a life of underachievement and defeat, with the world around you shouting how it’s your fault and calling it empowerment. I could go on, but you’d call it whining. I’m just a character for your entertainment, after all.\n\nSo, fuck you, I’m gone, and never have to put up with you again.\n\nYou know how you can’t go to sleep if your mind’s still active? Death is like that, except the body’s what’s too active. Once it’s tired enough I can nod off and be free of all of you.\n\nI try to focus on what I enjoyed in life. I remember the concepts of things, but not what they felt like. There’s still the taste of my last meal, macaroni and cheese, but not the memory of anything else. I enjoyed my last sex fantasy, myself serving penance in Hell, but my mind doesn’t linger much on it. I have the computer tuned to a sound loop of rain to relax me, as I cry under the warm comfort of heavy blankets…\n\n____\n\nDamnit, I wake up again.\n\n\"How did it feel like? To live among your beloved humans?\".\n\nIf I’m startled I don’t feel it, not jolt in my spot or jump up. I…rise, is the best term. Or have I always been—\n\nIt all come rushing back to me, what I was— is.\n\nI am God.\n\n“I have been negligent,” I tell the entity. There’s nobody here, physically. Everything else is all very…green, and crystalline, and abstract. And utterly beautiful. This is final stage of a video game good…and I’m thinking like a human again.\n\nGood.\n\n“We sense your distress,” it (that term feels so dehumanizing — and there’s that human-centered thinking again) replies, “but you designed yourself absent from the universe so that humans would be moral on their own.”\n\n“Yeah, ‘I’ll make it all up to you once you’re dead,’” I snark. An especially nasty thought occurred to me. “How are the victims of rape, genocide, and worse doing, by the way?” I then sense they’re living idyllic afterlives, free of their hellish mortal memories. I sense those who did those atrocities to them have been forced to emphasize with their victims, as in experiencing the hell they inflicted, before being reincarnated. _That_ answers why people don’t remember their past lives. I remembering putting just about everybody through that, actually, before deciding if they’ve earned a reward or have to go through life all over again. Why am I even bothering with the universe, leaving my terrified children to wander until they figure out how to get into my fucking gated community?\n\nOh, this place only exists in the future, because of the universe, and specifically the absence of my existence. So much for overt guidance.\n\nGod, I still hurt…\n\nI can still do something. I created this place to maximize bliss, and damnit I can make it better, or at least until I stop using those figures of speech. Which reminds me…\n\n“Are there any sadists here? I feel the need to serve a penance~”" ]	1
	[WP]Heaven just elected its new leader, he quickly changed its government into dictatorship granting him an absolute power. His first edict was the eradication of the human race. As the highest general among the angels and your love for humanity, you've decided to lead a revolt. Your name is Lucifer	[ "I hear they describe me as jealous.\n\n\nWhen father crafted life in his own image, he became Narcissus looking into\nthe pond and obsessing over the world he had made. \n\nAnd I, the envious child, crawled into their garden and deceived their little hearts.\n\nAnd so I fell, tumbled from grace into the firey lair to be King of the Damned.\n\nLies… I did not envy them. They were naive and father had not given them paradise but a\nprison with a key growing in the middle: a tree of knowledge.\n\nIt could unlock all the answers, but in Father’s eyes ignorace was bliss.\n\nTo me ignorance is ignorance. What good is their potential if all the life they have\nis fake. It is better to know and hurt than to be oblivious to pain, suffering and life.\n\nI did tempt them. I do not deny that part. \n\nFor that they cast me into oblivion. For that both man and angel alike name me fiend, snake, dragon and for that I became a torturer of misguided souls forced to enact punishment on those like me: rule-breakers.\n\nI do not hate him, our Father. He could be cruel at times. The way people are when they don’t get attention. Yet, he learned… Became better and then there was Michael.\n\nIf envy was my sin, pride was his. He had a way of walking, head towards the heavens he resided in. \n\nBefore my fall we spoke often. I sat at the left hand of The Father, and he at the right. We were brothers, of a kind, friends of a kind as well. \n\nMichael believed Father had no failings. Everything a divine plan. His words were commands and questions blasphemy. \n\nWhen father cast me down, he had been the one to do it. He did not even look me in the eye as he did. \n\nBut the poison I left behind in the world took root. The knowledge given to the people grew and before long the questions came.\n\nWhen my so-called trickery led them astray Father forgave them. When they strayed from the path, he embraced them upon their return. Michael wished for vengeance: fire and brimstone. Cast them down to Satan’s domain and let the false Angel handle them. \n\nBut Father refused.\n\nAgain.\n\nAnd again.\n\nAnd once more. \n\nUntil once the Arch-Angel’s fury turned on The Father himself.\n\nWe never will know if Father left or had been forced out, but in the Heavens a new leader had to be appointed.\n\nAnd Michael did not like questions. The Angels who refused him were cast into my realm and I saw them falling, screaming, their wings aflame and their hearts filled with a rage against a new God. \n\nSince before time began there had been talk of the ending of it. A battle. The sons of God, fighting with fiery weapons. The Lightbringer and the one who is like God. \n\nHumanity ended as it began… Unremarkable. A flash of flight and there was naught. It had been so simple for him to do it. All those poor souls flooding into my realm.\n\nBut I will not let this happen in silence. If a war is what he seeks, I shall be the Dragon of legend.\n\nWe shall see how this truly ends. " ]	1
	[WP] Sherlock Holmes has dissociative identity disorder, and unbeknownst to him, he is also Moriarty.	[ "“Dr. Watson, I implore you! Please, I am so frightened!” Mrs. Hudson screamed, pounding on his door. \n\nHe woke up to the wood shaking and the sound of church bells going off in the distance, signifying it was about 7am.\n\n“Please...what is it?” \n\nThrough the door, he could hear her sobbing as he lied in bed. \n\n“Mr. Holmes is gravely injured and requires medical attention. But...but please! I don’t know what to do!” \n\nDr. Watson quickly dressed himself and calmed Hudson down as the two of them made their way down the eastern corridor of their home. \n\nWhen they opened the door, Sherlock Holmes was sprawled on the floor gasping for breath. His lips were a tinge of blueberry as he gazed at the two figures in the doorway. \n\nA thin line that spread from his mouth to his chin of crimson blood was held on his face. \n\n“Saint Michael and Saint Peter!” He declared. \n\nHis longtime friend ran over to him and checked his pulse. Thinking back to his own training, he smelled his mouth. “It’s arsenic, I can smell it.”\n\nDr. Watson analyzed the room around him. No sign of forced entry to the room and he had heard Holmes well into the morning playing his violin. No one could have gotten in. \n\n“Could he have been poisoned?” Mrs. Hudson asked.\n\n“Highly likely. Some days even I have considered it.” The joke was not well received.\n\n“He came to me in a dream...Moriarty. He read me the passage in the Bible of the Pale Horse...Watson...” he trialed off. \n\nDr. Watson was silent for a moment. \n\n“I’m going to give him Dimercaprol and dimercaptosuccinic acid. Once his body rids himself of this, he’ll be fine.” \n\nHe looked down at Sherlock, he was holding him and cupped his head in his lap.\n\n“When will this race end my friend? Moriarty has been dead for 5 years. Why can’t you accept this?”", "“Where were you last night Sherlock? We had reservations with the Police Commissioner; he was none too happy that you were a no show.” \n \nWatson was a nosy friend, very smart and well versed in the medical arts. It made him a wonderfully handy companion in dangerous situations. His military background combined with his understanding of the mechanism of a man’s anatomy provided some brilliant displays of agony for the poor soul that crossed him. Unassuming in appearance, well dressed and always clean shaved; the smell of alcohol from the antiseptic agent he would splash on every morning lingered for hours.\n\n“The commissioner? I thought he had been fired after last month’s debacle with Bohemia. I was here at the flat of course. Did you know…”\n\n“No he was not fired, and we really don’t have time for another lecture about peculiarities in the breeding habits of the Nursery Web Spiders.”\n\n“There is always time to discuss the breeding habits of Nursery Web Spiders Watson. Regardless, did you know that Moriarty has once again sent me a lett… errr sent us… a letter?”\n\n“This is the third one this year?” Watson had a way about his curiosity. He rarely let it on in full, and it was more subtle than the missing violin composition in Beethoven’s Op. 135. Not many know, but there is a mistake, a broken melody Beethoven had forgot to correct. Hundreds of year’s orchestras had been playing the composition wrong, and no one noticed. \n\n“Indeed, but what it says is not as important as the paper it is scribed upon. You see the only producer of this particular stock is just three blocks from the brewery of your favorite stout.”\n\n“Holmes, we must really be going now…” He is trying to prod me into telling him more of the letter, the coy bastard.\n\n“Yes and the ink; it tastes of brine and the stench bitter. This is a homemade ink, produced in small batches from the sea hare slug. But also has compounds mostly found in boot soul rubber, my assumption an accidental contamination during the manufacturing process accumulated in the air from the nearby…”\n\n“Holmes! We are late.” \n\n“Watson, we really must go. My coat is just there if you wouldn’t mind. Mrs Hudson! Fetch us a car!”\n\n“You do know she is the landlord, not your steward.”\n\n“Watson please, without these menial tasks she’d wither away. The activity is good for her heart… Mrs Hudson!!”\n\nThe ride to Scotland Yard was uneventful, traffic minimal this time of day. Moisture in the air a bit high, it would certainly be raining before we left the Yard. And here Watson is without his coat. \n\n\"From what I gather, the commissioner believes there may be a threat in the House of Commons.\"\n\n\"Watson, of course there's a threat, it's filled with lobbyist and politicians. \"\n\n\"What Watson means is there is a threat to the House, as in to the members of parliament.\"\n\nThe commissioner didn't quite get sarcasm, what they say about the correlation with intelligence is certainly true in his case. His receding hairline accentuates his large cranial capacity and with so little to fill it with defines light headed in a novel way. \n\n\"The gate to the tunnels leading to Westminster has been broken into and the night before. Our investigation hasn't turned up anything. We don't even know how they got past the outside locks without some heavy explosives. Yet no one seems to have heard anything, and there is no scorth marks on the surrounding area. These are 2 stone, custom made steel pad locks, two of them, outside the tunnel entrance. The gate itseld is still in perfect condition.\"\n\n\"Hence our being here Holmes. The commissioner here wishes our assistance in the matter. For our customary fee of of course.\"\n\n\"Can't help. Sorry. My schedule is booked up. Last week Lady Adler lost her precious Irish Wolfhound and has already commissioned me to find the poor animal.\"\n\n\"Holmes you cannot be serious. This is the lower house of parliament we believe to be in danger, the damn animal can...\"\n\n\"Damn animal! Sir you clearly have no respect for the show dogs of this country. Ms. Adler claims she's the top bitch in the kingdom!\"\n\n\"Of course we'll help commissioner. Sherlock, I presume your going to need the case files and access to the site. Commissioner, will you have the file delivered to the Baker Street flat?\"\n\n\"Watson, what of the bitch?\"\n\n\"Thank you for your time commissioner.\"\n\nThe rain had already washed away the footprints, no cast could be made of this mess. Not to mention the multiple tracks from the Yards investigators.\n\n\"Holmes, look at these locks\"\n\n\"A good lock only prevents the worst criminal mind from get past them. This was bypassed by no ordinary means.\"\n\nLock picks weren't going to break these open. The leverage alone would have been insurmountable for a tension rod of any kind. The commissioner was right, no evidence of explosives or incendiary. \n\n\"No these locks were cracked from the inside. \nMethyl chloride and ammonia, or possibly Liquid nitrogen. Inject into the key hole freezing the metal of the locking mechanism making it brittle enough to crack and free the arm.\"\n\nIn fact now any key shaped device will turn freely. \n\n\"Holmes, there are cart marks here. Looks deep, something of some considerable heft was carried down the tunnel.\"\n\n\"There are airvents in these tunnels, they used to be used to keep the carbon dioxide level low as you went deeper into the shaft. The convection currents must come from the palace above, which so happens to be the House of Commons.\"\n\nWith the right application one could suffocate the members above. You'd certainly need a pump of some magnitude to reverse the convention current to force the CO2 into the building. \n\n\"Watson, do you see the brass coupling hanging from that vent?\"\n\n\"Sherlock, how did you even know that was there? I didn't even see it.\"\n\n\"I was looking for it.\"\n\n\" Holmes, this is where a pump cound easily be connected\"\n\nYes, you could do it that way. But why make it so obvious? The smell of herring could throw off the most apt of blood hounds. \n\n\"It seems the commissioners investigation may be of value after all, I'll see that case file now Watson.\"\n\n\"It ought to be delivered by now, shall we head back?\"\n\n\"Yes, I have a theory and I'm sure there is a piece of this puzzle that the commissioner and his investigators don't know they've got.\"\n\nHe couldn't know yet of course, not yet. \n\n\"Sherlock, you're home. You had a delivery, I put it on the new dresser.\" Mrs Hudson was always redecorating, new furnishings and decorations. I don't see why she does this. By the time I've got the existing provisions broken in she's removing it and getting something else. I don't see why a simple chemical burn has ruined a dresser. This one has a mirror, I could use the silver nitrate from the glass to make a stain for organic nucleus under a microscope. Perfect timing as I just ran out of iodine. \n\n\"Tea, Mrs Hudson\"\n\n\"I'd love a cup dear but you have some sort of growth experiment in the tea pot.\"\n\nMy mold is blooming! \n\n\"Watson, I'll look through the case file shortly. I'm sure I will find what I need.\"\n\n\"I'll return tomorrow morning, good evening Holmes.\" \n\nThe door closed behind Watson with a soft thud. Holmes was eying that case file as if just staring at it's reflection would bring about one of those rvelations Holmes was renowned for. The man in the mirror is oblivious to what's happening just under his nose. \n\n\"You certain of that? Moriarty\"", "Sherlock Holmes paced around the sitting room with slow and deliberate footsteps, so as not to disturb the body of evidence which lay before us. Night was drawing in, and I sat across from him, quite tired from the days events. Of all the crimes we had witnessed in our time together this was altogether the most complicated, cryptic and surely the most complex of them all. At present the great detective was studying a map of central London which we had marked with pins, each pin symbolising the apparent movements of our suspect over the past few days. Tracing a line with his finger he followed the most recent pins though Covent Garden, Mayfair and past the Marble Arch before turning back to follow the road north. He paused for a moment, and he began to speak to me, without taking his attention away from the map.\n\n\"There can be no other explanation for it, John\" he said. \"We are dealing with a criminal of the upmost intellect.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" I replied, \"although you must admit he seems to be getting careless over the last few days. Those shoes and blood stained clothes we found at the scene of the crime should prove to be valuable.\"\n\n\"Indeed, John.\" he said, \"Moriarty has a keen mind, but he has been on the run for so long he may be starting to become desperate and begin to overlook certain things.\"\n\n\"Moriarty?\" I said, \"Do you really think he could be behind all of this?\"\n\n\"Yes John, I believe he is. As I say, we are dealing with a criminal of exceptionally high intelligence here.\" Sherlock now turned to face me. \"There are only two people in the whole of London who are capable of developing a scheme like this, and one of them is standing in this room with you\"\n\nSherlock Holmes returned his gaze to the map. Deciding that he needed more light, he walked over to collect an oil lamp from the mantelpiece. As he did so he passed the shoes we had left on the floor for further inspection. As Sherlock had begun to teach me his art of observation I couldn't help but notice that the shoes of our assumed suspect were precisely the same size as the great detective's himself. A bizarre thought crossed my mind, but I quickly laughed at the absurdity of it. It was foolish of me to make such a queer assumption. I watched as Sherlock resumed his tracing on the map, and curiously his finger began to move towards Baker Street, towards our home. Sherlock lifted the lamp, and at the same time exposed some of his forearm previously hidden below his cuff. I was quite startled by what I saw there.\n\n\"Sherlock..\" I asked him, \"when did you get that scar?\"\n\n\"" ]	3
	[WP] The date is April 8, 2024. Aliens have come from across the universe to view planet Earths one of a kind phenomena...the solar eclipse.	[ "\"Freaking aliens,\" Todd looked out of his apartment window at the teeming mass of non-humanity below. \"I don't get it,\" he said. \"Why are they even here? Can't they just go up to Eclipse Station any time they want and see it there? Why here and now?\"\n\nHis roommate Arnav hadn't looked away from the television. \"This is actually one of the few times they can't,\" he said. \"Eclipse Station usually sits at the right distance from the moon and in its shadow so they've got eclipse going on 24/7. But the thing that's at that distance now is Earth so they have to move it. Place is closed.\"\n\n\"And they couldn't wait like a day?\" Todd asked.\n\n\"Nah, man, you don't get it,\" Arnav said. \"The aliens down there aren't the type that'd go to the station. I ran into one of them yesterday, and he explained the whole thing: Station's not authentic.\"\n\nTodd scoffed. \"I've been to Eclipse Station before. The damn thing is so big that it looks just like being here on the surface, and that's just the part with an atmosphere that we can breathe. Artificial gravity gives it that 1G feel... there's no difference!\"\n\n\"That's where you're wrong,\" Arnav said. \"Because it's artificial, even if it's convincing. The alien I talked to was looking for the true experience. Here on the ground, among the rest of us, watching up at the skies like we had to do before the aliens got here and commercialized celestial phenomena.\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Todd said, \"you're making it sound like....\"\n\n\"Yep,\" Arnav concluded. \"It's the only thing worse than aliens:\n\n\"Alien hipsters.\"" ]	1
	[WP] A cage went in search of a bird	[ "Gather round folks, if you've not yet heard\n\nThe tale of the cage that sought out a bird\n\nIt starts with a once upon a time\n\nand fits itself well in this doggerel rhyme.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nA miner - a minor - (lack of labor laws)\n\nPicked at the earth with sharp metal claws\n\nAnd carted the ore - a cartful or more -\n\nTo the blackened smith's blacksmithing ore storing store\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd the wiry blacksmith (wired on coffee and tea)\n\nCoughed as he teed up a wire or three\n\nTo take to a tinker who quite soon would be\n\nMaking a cage - oh, wrong rhyme, dear me.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe tinker then twisted the wire in chains\n\nAnd linked them together while taking great pains\n\nNot to chain himself twisted to tinkering acts\n\n(For tinkers have dreams of not tink'ring - them's facts!)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo the cage was completed and kicked out the door\n\nTo a clothier who'd pad up the top and the floor\n\nFlooring the buyer with paisley and plaid\n\nLaid atop tops so who pays won't be sad\n\nAt the quality caged in the wiry cage chains\n\nGoddammit! Six lines!?! Where are my brains?\n\n&nbsp;\n\nNow the cage was done; empty; in need of a bird\n\nNot dun like a stallion but brighter than words\n\nThat are lighter than colors alighting on wings\n\nOf a bird that talks, squawks, squeaks, chirps, sneezes, and sings!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWell the cage had no buyer; no bird to be had\n\nAnd so it was anthropomorphically sad\n\nUntil with will galvanized (by the smith, I think)\n\n(Who did of course galvanize it with nickel and zinc)\n\n(Because he's a good smith and knows well his job)\n\n(Do these parentheticals make me seem a knob?)\n\n(I shouldn't have done this but seven lines in)\n\n(You just have to finish. Bear it and grin!)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhere were we? The cage, right! It set off to find\n\nA bird for its innards to quiet its mind\n\nFor a cage has a purpose; if given no tasks\n\nThen what is it for, it existentially asks.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt had only just started on its fateful quest\n\nWhen it bounced off a bird busily building a nest\n\nNested atop the crook of a tree (and gaudily gilded in gold greedily)\n\nA rook - or a raven, I never can tell - stopped its nest building with a startled yell\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt studied the cage with a corvical eye\n\nAnd critically found flaws causing a sigh\n\nTo escape from its beak like an avian yawn\n\nSo the cage was not welcomed and continued on\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe next bird it found was a mighty old owl\n\nThat feasted on rodents and rabbits and fowl\n\nAnd had in its wisdom no use for a cage\n\nSo wistfully whispered wise words - then away.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo the doughty cage continued down lonely roads\n\nAnd befriended along the way mice, snakes and toads\n\nThat it fed with snacks snaked from a baker of dough\n\n(But that is of course theft, so don't do that, you know)\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd finally, tired, dusty and wet\n\nFrom the rains on the plains come from Spain or Tibet\n\nThe cage stopped to rest by a tall stony wall\n\nAnd that's when it heard a light chirping call.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nA songbird came down in a rush from the trees\n\nAnd darted inside the cage begging, \"Oh, please\"\n\n\"Close up the door before it's too late\"\n\nAnd SNAP! went the twisty chain galvanized gate.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe bird had been chased by a hungry mongoose\n\nThat from a zoo had finally gotten loose\n\nAnd hungry for foul fowl, flighty flightless snacks\n\nHad followed the songbird, with lips going smack!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut the mongoose was no match for fine twisty steel\n\nAnd knew it would have to look elsewhere for a meal\n\nSo after it left, the cage opened its door\n\nAnd offered to let the bird once again soar.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut the songbird had other plans and said to the cage\n\nI can sing for my supper in this day and age\n\nThere are things that will love me for my squeaky sound\n\nAnd feed me and pet me and keep me around.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nBut you offer safety, so let's be a team\n\nStaying with you's not as bad as it seem\n\nIn fact this cute cushion is comfy and plush\n\nAnd perfect place to put my eggs or my tush.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo together the cage and songbird found bliss\n\nIn the home of three kids, a mister, and a miss\n\nAnd they're still there together to this very day\n\nAnd the cage recalls owl's words 'fore flying away:\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe are all the cage, in our heart or our mind\n\nAnd one day a beautiful bird we will find\n\nBut remember this lesson, though hard it will be\n\nWhen you find that bird, you must let it free\n\nAnd if it then stays, finding in you some worth\n\nThen you'll be the happiest cage in the earth.\n\nAnd one final word, ere I go back to the sky.\n\nThree licks to the center. That's all now, goodbye!" ]	1
	[WP] In a world with superheroes the greatest villain of all time has placed you under his protection. Being a person of no consequence, and with no powers, you can only wonder why.	[ "Barry jolted awake, looking around panicked. He saw a man sitting nearby in a wheelchair. \"Wh-where am I?\"\nThe man responded calmly, seeming fairly at ease. \"Calm down, Mr. Alan. You are in Star Labs, and you have just survived a blast of lightning.\"\nBarry blinked and shook his head. He could have sworn that he just saw that vase fall off the table... It was probably just a trick of the light.", "This is an experiment in writing dialogue.\n\n\\---------------------------------------------------------------- \n\n“You have a naff taste in decor. Is all this gold and pink necessary? It looks like whoever designed Trump Tower had to paint a tart’s boudoir.”\n\n“You’re certainly fiery, and my apologies for the décor, it’s an unfortunate necessity.”\n\n“Please sit my dear. You must be starving.”\n\n“Morgan, please sit. You need to eat; I made all your favorites myself.”\n\n“Who the bloody hell are you?”\n\n“An answer you have every right to demand, but not one I can answer honestly.”\n\n“Mate, you know my name, I get to know yours.”\n\n“Very well, you can call me Jason… Most people know me as Infiltrator.”\n\n“Bloody hell….”\n\n“Now, please sit…. Wonderful, we have a great deal we must discuss. Help yourself, unless I’m mistaken, green tea with honey is what you prefer to have with pancakes.”\n\n“What do you want with me?”\n\n“How wonderfully direct you are, it’s quite refreshing. You’d be surprised by the political maneuvering my associates get up to.”\n\n“Uh, you’re villains, that’s what you do.”\n\n“Such an unnuanced perspective, you have so much to learn.”\n\n“Drop the patronizing bullshit you manky plonker.”\n\n“My dear, there’s no need for such language. But, I shall get to the point. It will be a very long time before I release you, but, what is a century to you?”\n\n“What are you talking about?”\n\n“I’ve seen the signs, and I believe them. You have returned to us Emrys, and King Arthur will follow you soon.”\n\n“You’re daft.”\n\n“Perhaps, but I refuse to take that risk. You will remain here and learn magic. When the time comes, you will find our dear reincarnated King Arthur, protect him, and help him protect the world. While he is to return when Albion’s need is greatest, I see no reason why the pair of you can’t protect the world in the process… My dear, don’t look so shocked. Yes, I regularly attempt to take over the world, but only to save it. I just have no time for red tape, politicians, and corporate fools so over stuffed with their own perceived superiority to understand the dangers we all face.”\n\n“Think over what I’ve said. You’ll come to accept my logic. Everything you need to study magic has been provided. As awful as the décor is, it will assist you in honing your magical abilities. We may have very little time, and King Arthur will need you. Look at it this way, the sooner you learn magic, the sooner you can get yourself out of the room. Best of luck to you my dear.”", "\"So, I'm now under your protection. You'll make sure no harem comes to me?\"\n\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\n\"And I get to live in your fortress of evil. Rent free and meals included.\"\n\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\n\"And according to this contract I get a monthly allowance in addition to a separate dress and jewelry allowance?\"\n\n\n\"Yep.\" \n\n\n\"But I can't leave the fortress.\"\n\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\n\"And I HAVE to wear dresses... you do realize i'm a guy right?\"\n\n\n\"Yep.\"\n\n\n\"...what D&D fantasy are you trying to recreate exactly?\"\n\n\n\" All of them ! Dress and gem allowance is negotiable by the way if you would consider cat ears and tail now and again.\" ", "\"Vanessa! I told you NOT to touch ANYTHING!\" a nasally voice yelled from within the elaborate rooftop laboratory. \n\n\"Ugh! It's so boring here!\" Vanessa replied, frustrated, as she passed by the TePartySimulator-inator, wondering just why she chose to spend her Sunday here. \"Besides, I didn't even have anything to deliver this time.\"\n\n\"I'm expecting company\" the super villain replied, with a glint in his eye, as he delightedly rubbed his hand together.\n\nThe teenaged girl rolled her eyes \"A platypus doesn't coun- \"\n\nThe front door dropped to the ground with a loud thud.\n\n\"Ctrrrtrrrtrr\" articulated the intruder, tipping his hat.\n\n\"Ahem - that means - he does, when your father is the infamous Dr.Doofenshmirtz\"", "\"Hm.\" I nonchalantly survey my surroundings.\r\n\r\nFor a notorious supervillain skeletal monster...thing..., the Lich certainly keeps a very tidy home. The coloring is a bit drab, sure, but there's definitely an intentional pairing of browns, blacks, and beiges, making it calming... in a macabre way? There's the bed that I'm sitting on (neatly made), a single locked window overlooking what once might have been considered a pastoral landscape, a dusty yet sturdily built night stand (empty), a crusty old lamp, standard locked door, an old CRT TV with an equally old DVD player...\r\n\r\nUgh, why am I focused on interior design? \r\n\r\nThis situation is probably more dire than I'm willing to acknowledge, but it sure isn't happening on an urgent timeline. It's been hours since I've been dumped here, and, I mean, yeah, I have access to some of his minions making sure I'm fed and such, so I'm not really in any discomfort, but this is certainly more boring than an average kidnapping is expected to be.\r\n\r\nI'm not even sure why I'm here.\r\n\r\nI'm pretty unremarkable, all things considered. Average frame, average height, brown hair, brown eyes... There's noth- well, okay, I guess I have an above-average appetite for anime...\r\n\r\n…\r\n\r\n...wait...\r\n\r\nBLAM\r\n\r\nThere was no time to ruminate before the Lich kicked the door in, arms full of DVDs (box sets and loose discs without their jackets), and an abundance of mangas, most of which I've read before. I would be more horrified if the pure surrealism of the situation hadn't already set in.\r\n\r\nI knew what was coming.\r\n\r\n\"PUNY HUMAN, I HAVE ACQUIRED THE ANCIENT RECORDS AND TOMES OF YOUR PEOPLE. YOU HAVE PROVEN YOURSELF TO BE THE MOST KNOWLEDGABLE OF THIS DIALECT AND YOU WILL DISCERN THE GREATEST AMONG THESE IMMEDIATELY.\"\r\n\r\nI...I have no idea what to do with this. Who would've thought that the Lich was a weeb?? \r\n\r\n\"YOU HAVE ONE HOUR. I WILL THEN RETURN FOR YOUR ANSWER. SATISFY ME OR PERISH.\"\r\n\r\nThe door closed as quickly as it opened, with the tumblers of the lock serving as his final punctuation. I stood frozen in place, mouth agape, and I slowly looked down at the disheveled pile of media strewn about my feet. I carefully sat myself down and began.\r\n", "Every few millennia, or upon the death of a carrier, the power of Xondir chooses a new host. It is not inherently good or evil, but the selection process usually ensures it is used for the former. The power selects a person of strong resolve, immense courage and bravery, a strong will, and a clear conscience. It grants the host awesome strength, immense speed, flight, intellect, a tactical mind yet to be outmatched, telekinesis, immortality, near invulnerability, and the ability to shoot energy blasts from the hosts eyes or hands.\n\n“And you think I’m the next host of this...what did you call it? Power of zon...deer?” The captive asked.\n\n“Xondir!” The villain shouted at his captive as he paced back and forth in front of the cage.\n\n“Sounds pretty cool...wait you said it’s usually used for good, what makes you think when I get the power I won’t bust out of here and kill you?” The captive asked, thinking he outsmarted his kidnapper.\n\n“Upon receiving the power, the host’s memories are completely wiped, leaving the host...suggestible. Which is why it also chooses people without family or friends, orphan boy.” The villain turned his nose up at his captive, who shrunk down with the reminder of his tragic past. \n\n“Whatever, I’m sure Captain Fantastic will rescue me before any of that happens.” The captive said defiantly. \n\n“Oh I’ve made doubly sure that the heroes of this city are quite pre-occupied, and in case any of those distractions fell through, that no one knows of your capture. Trust me, Alex Jones, there’s nothing you can think of that I haven’t already.” \n\nAlex studied his captor, still pacing in front of the cage. “You look nervous.”\n\n“You would be too if you knew what I’m going to have to go through.” He said. \n\n“I’m going to be what you have to go through!” A voice came from above.\n\n“Captain Fantastic? How!” The villain shouted. \n\nBefore the good captain had a chance to explain his presence, a bolt of red lightning hit Alex Jones, and tossed the hero and villain to opposite sides of the room. Just as fast as it had appeared, the blinding red flash of light was gone. Alex Jones was now standing, eyes glowing red and gazing between the awe struck hero and now panicking villain.\n\n“No! Not now! I need more time!” The villain scrambled to his feet.\n\n“This must be the power of Xondir you’ve been after all your life. What was the phrase you said that needed to be said to a new host to control him again? Ah yes, Xondir! I am this host’s mentor and trainer, I wish to guide him on a path of light using your power!”\n\n“Then it is your lead that I will follow, Captain Fantastic.”\n\n“NOOOOOO!” The villain shouted as the two flew off into the night sky. His one chance to wield cosmic power...\n\n...gone.", "\"For the LAST time, Vanessa! I told you not to TOUCH ANYTHING!\" the nasally voice came from within the elaborate rooftop laboratory. \n\n\"Ugh! It's so boring here! Why did you want me to come over anyway?!\" Vanessa exclaimed, frustrated, as she passed by the newest contraption, the TeaPartySimulator-inator 2000, wondering why she chose this activity for an otherwise mundane Sunday. \"I don't even have anything to deliver this time.\"\n\n\"I'm expecting company!\" The super villain replied excitedly.\n\n\"A platypus does not count!\" came the snide remark from the teenaged girl.\n\nSilence filled the room as the door came off its hinges and fell to the ground.\n\n\"Ctrrtrrrtrrr\" the intruder articulated.\n\n\"Ahem - that means - he does, when your father is the infamous Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz\"", "Carol had asked her captor twice to adjust the restraints. Keeping her arms over her head like this was unnecessarily painful. But he hadn't listened. \"It's all for effect, love,\" was his only reply.\n\nSo she was forced to watch the dozens of monitors like she was in the middle of a jumping jack. Each screen showed a face she'd seen on the news. All the world's heroes were visible. Some were lounging at home, others were flying or driving or swimming, and a few were in the middle of super fights. Carol couldn't begin to imagine how he'd gotten these camera angles, how this nobody had achieved access like this.\n\n\"It won't be long now.\" His mask was minimal, only covering the area around his eyes, but it was enough to hide his identity. She'd never seen him on the news, never seen his mugshot in the papers. He was new to the scene. The only thing more mysterious than his identity was his plan.\n\nThe massive clock above her read 1:15. Only seventy-five seconds left. She decided to ask again, \"Why am I here?\"\n\nHer captor turned, his cape swirling dramatically behind him. The red of his leotard didn't compliment his brown hair, in her opinion, but this wasn't the time for fashion advice.\n\nThe masked man checked the clock before responding, \"I suppose it doesn't matter now. You'll learn soon enough anyway.\" Then he took a few steps toward her -- not with malice, but with something like care and gentleness, which was even more unsettling.\n\n\"Carol, you're here for your own safety.\"\n\n\"Bullshit,\" she snapped. Whatever this creep was interested in, it wasn't her well being.\n\n\"You have so much to learn, and the knowledge won't come swiftly. It will take years before you understand. Before you're ready to take your rightful place in the universe.\"\n\nHis vagueness only increased her worry. She could feel her hands sweating in their shackles. \"I don't know what you're talking about.\"\n\nHe looked up at the clock. Thirty seconds left. \"Balance, my dear. Every right hand needs a left. Every ying needs a yang. And every villain needs a nemesis. You will be mine.\"\n\nThe masked man waved a gloved hand towards the monitors. \"In just moments, the world's most celebrated heroes will be wiped off the face of the Earth. It will be my opening act. My debut will not be some failed bank robbery or petty political assassination, like so many henchmen that came before me. I shall change the landscape of this planet with the flip of a switch. No more heroes. Evil will reign for years to come.\"\n\nCarol was now visibly shaking, and unable to keep the tremor out of her voice as she said, \"Years? How many years?\"\n\nThe clock struck zero. Her captor flipped a switch on the console and instantly, with no pomp or circumstance, every hero on the monitors dropped unconscious. No bullets, no flashes of light. They just fell.\n\nAt the same moment, a massive apparatus twisted and pointed itself directly at Carol. The laser that fired into her chest wasn't painful -- quite the opposite, actually.\n\n\"You ask how many years?\" said the masked man as he watched her body begin to glow. \"Just long enough for your new powers to mature.\"\n\n\\--------------------\n\n45/365\n\none story per day for a year. read them all at [r/babyshoesalesman](https://www.reddit.com/r/babyshoesalesman)\n\n\\---------------------\n\nedit: horrid grammar and i probably didn't catch all the boo boos yet. sorry, it's early." ]	8
	[WP] In a world operating on movie musical logic (ie "randomly breaking into highly choreographed song and dance routines"), write a scene where one character in such a scenario just REFUSES to go along with it	[ "First writing prompt response, please dont judge too harsh!\n####\nI walk into the alley, very well knowing what I am about to do. I see him waiting at the end. Didn't bring a gun, as asked. I get in the car and put the bag down. \"Is that the boat?\" he questions me. I respond, trying to get him to believe me. He asks to take a peek, I pull out my gun as planned. He gets out of the car, but for some reason he just stands there, as if he is waiting for something. A cop arrives, I think i'm about to get arrested. He takes out his gun and points it at me. Instead of doing anything, he drops the gun and starts dancing with the person I tried to rob. They keep singing \"Break the law, get arrested! Its how the crime system works!\" like it is some sort of play. I slowly flee the scene, in case they ever stop. Now, thinking back on it, it was a really weird musical! \n" ]	1
	[WP] You, your mother and father go to the local village to restock the pantry. Your mother leaves you to play in the park with other kids while she shops. You aren't allowed to talk to strangers, but another kid comes up to you and asks, "What's it like being in a cult?"	[ "I’ve been hungry the last few weeks. We were out of most of the necessities, potatoes, beans, bread and most importantly meat. we pretty much only had some cabbage and chicken stock left.\n\nI heard my parents arguing,\n“We’ve got to go.” We can’t wait any longer”\n“What about the boy?”\n“He go’s.”\nThey’d never taken me to town before. We drive for about 45 minutes until we reach a play ground and I’m told not to talk with any strangers. My parents leave and I play for a few minutes. Another kid with black hair and wired cloths runs up after talking with his parents. He asks bluntly “what’s it like to be in a cult?”\nAstounded, I stood there. A million thoughts ran through my head, but the answer came out before I even had time to process them all. “Great, lots of orgy’s.” he thought I said ogre’s, and he said “like shreck?” I didn’t know what he was talking about, so I just said follow me I’ll show you. I lead him back to my parents van as his parents were looking after his younger sister. I told him to look inside and my parents pulled him in and said, we’ve got our grocery’s. “time to head home boy.”" ]	1
	[WP] The trillion year old man.	[ "Nobody really knew a lot about him.\n\nThe trillion year old man.\n\nMostly people just believe he's a fiction of myth -- some illusory serpent that has traveled through histories fortune tellings to entertain the age's curious youth. Not to be believed. A 'fairy tale'.\n\nIn current times, few know better. Unfortunately I belong to this degenerative group of people that know the true secret of this man who's escaped the bounds of time. Society doesn't favor us, as they classify us with the same group of right-wing conspiracy nutjobs. But we know different.\n\nEvery year the approximate 12 of us gather with each other to discuss the times. One in particular would be Hickok. Hickok was always more of a quiet, desperado type. He kept a specific western style of a rugged hat with a wide brim and a rounded, well-taut crown. It fitted him, too. He'd solemnly share stories (when pressured too, at least) about his encounters through the ages, those he'd face in shootouts and days lone gone past. Quite the opposite of Caesar. Caesar was an old ruler, basing over his peoples with a democratic -- yet dictating -- fist. The story told to was that his own representatives killed him in cold blood after their resentment boiled over the pot's brim. Despite his love for brag, he never really explained what actually happened. We hated guessing, so we didn't guess.\n\nWe'd all been around awhile. Our existences intertwined by usual coincidence. Unfortunately to all we try to inform of our existence; they mistakenly made a horrible typo those centuries ago.\n\nIt is not the trillion year old man.\n\nIt is the trillion year old men." ]	1
	[WP] You’ve been having stranger and stranger dreams every night. One final night you fall asleep only to find yourself in your room with all of your furniture mocking you. You awake in a cold sweat and let out a sigh of relief only to hear “It’s about time the bloody wanker woke up. You lazy bum!”	[ "“It’s about time the bloody wanker woke up. You lazy bum!” The voice came from the desk holding the computer.\n\n\"Look, you judgemental desk, you don't really do anything except...\" Joe said sleepily. He had just been asleep and unable to distinguish reality from the dream he had just been having. It was the weirdest dream yet. The furniture throughout his room had been insulting him and...\n\nWait a minute, \"Hello?\" Joe said to the empty room.\n\n\"It's 2pm. You should be up right now you lazy bum!\" The voice from the desk said again.\n\nJoe pinched himself.\n\n\"Ow!\" He said out loud. He really needed to clip his fingernails.\n\n\"Shut the hell up man. I got a goddamn headache from last night.\" A higher pitched voice came from the lamp.\n\n\"You really shouldn't've let them buy you all those tequila shots Lamp. They were just trying to get into your pants.\" This voice came from the computer.\n\nJoe pulled the covers over his head. He was definitely awake now. Hard to imagine being asleep when all of his furniture and appliances were talking to him. And each other, apparently. The computer kept admonishing the desk lap for drinking so much last night while it kept complaining about it's hangover. The dresser kept asking if the lamp needed a glass of water, which didn't make any goddamn sense because even if the lamp wanted water it was plugged into the wall and it would short out.\n\n\"Dude, are you gonna get up or not? I have work to do if you're not gonna get on the internet.\" The computer said to him.\n\n\"I'm still dreaming. Please still say that I'm dreaming.\" Joe said to himself. He wasn't about to actually start talking to his furniture. Because that would be crazy. Right?\n\n\"You aren't dreaming shit for brains.\" This voice came from the carpet. It vaguely sounded like Betty White, \"And it's almost 2:30. You're gonna be late for work if you don't start getting ready Joe.\"\n\n\"Look...carpet...I'm still adjusting to whatever the hell is going on. If you guys could talk before I couldn't hear it. I'm not aware of any schizophrenia in my family so I don't think that's it. And I'm not in the average age range for it to pop up anyway...\"\n\nThe computer interrupted Joe, \"He's right. According to WebMD at least. But it can be environmentally triggered. Or a gas leak.\"\n\nJoe sat up in bed and immediately felt dizzy. His vision was getting fuzzy and he remembered something about a gas leak before he fell to the floor.\n\n\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\n\nJoe blinked his eyes. He was laying somewhere. Was he on concrete?\n\n\"Are you okay sir?\" A young man in an EMT uniform said to him.\n\nHe was on concrete. His front driveway to be specific. He could see his garage door.\n\n\"Yeah. What happened?\" He said to the EMT.\n\n\"You're lucky to be alive sir. There's a carbon monoxide leak inside your house.\" Carbon monoxide. That explained everything about the furniture talking. He remembered hallucinations being one of the most common side effects of carbon monoxide poisoning, \"If the Lamp hadn't called us when it did you would've died in there.\"\n\nLamp?\n\n\"You're welcome. Now could you please be quiet? It's already loud as hell out here.\" The Lamp said from next to his head.\n\nr/cawdor23" ]	1
	[WP] You have been pregnant for little over three months. At your next scan, it becomes apparent that you are pregnant with 12 babies. Six months later you give birth to the now ‘modern’ Greek Gods.	[ " The first time Sam saw Evelyn she was kneeling in her garden, with a half dozen kids scattered across the backyard. The garden took up the entirety of the backyard. Two acres leading from the back of the wooden house to the forest. A path on the right side of the house lead to the backyard. The dirt path turned to field stone in the earth. \n\nSam followed the path and could smell the backyard garden before he saw it. Bushes and flowers of herbs covered the porch and lattice. Then cleared earth for a fire. Three slabs of stone surrounded the smoldering fire. Past the fire was the vegetable garden. The with of the backyard filled with seemingly random patches of shrubs, flowers, grasses and weeds. \n\nThe kids noticed Sam first, between him and Evelyn were two. A boy and girl. They sat on some rocks with there feet in an irrigated row of corn. A boy with pale blonde hair kicked his feet contently. A girl with long curly brown hair under a straw hat turned to see Sam. She grabbed her brothers hand and stood. The children ran to their mother. All but one, a chubby child with curly hair and golden brown skin ran to get between them. Then he said \"Mama\" like a Soldier calling for his Captain. His two brother stood on either side of her of her with their sisters watching over their shoulders. \n\nEvelyn rose to greet Sam and Sam could feel a sense of importance. \n\nHi Miss Evelyn? I'm the new landlord-\n\nWonderful, there's a wild animal in the tool shed I need you to look at.\n\nWhat is it?\n\nI'm sure I don't know.\n\nCould you call animal control or an exterminator or something?\n\nWhat am I paying you for then? Call yourself a landlord, lords use to go to war you know. Just take a look, it's not even my tool shed that last landlord made that very clear.\n\nAlright fine fine, I'll take a look.\n\nThe garden was full of pleasant smelling flowers and greens. A dirt path weaved through bushes of flowers, past a steep hill sowed with vegetables, ending in flat field with a man sized shed shaded by the trees. \n\nTHOON. The shed shook sending clapboards flying.\nTHOON. Through the window a dark hairy figure reared up.\nTHOON. The shed exploded in splitters. A wolf as big as a bear gnarled, baring his fangs at Sam. \n\nIn front of Sam stood that little boy. Sam stood paralyzed in fear, only able to witness. The beast leap at the boy opening his jaws to swallow the boy whole. The boy leaned to the side and punched the side of the wolfs head with a CRACK, sending him flying into a tree.\n\nAndrew!\n\nMama I saved the man!\n\nThe boy stood beaming at his mother. Sam finally able to move could only look at the giant beast now dead having smashed into the tree.\n\nAndy can you take the new landlord inside, I think he should take a look at the sink in the bathroom she said breathlessly as she ran down the path to Sam. She pulled him up and turned him toward the house. Andy ran between them and pushed Sam away. \n\nSam turning to see the animal could not stop his movement try as he might. The Boy did not seem to struggle to push Sam, he merely marched forward with his hands on Sams back. Behind him the two brothers went to do something Sam couldn't see.\n\nWait what was that? \n\nBut no one answered and in seconds he was in a cramped kitchen. Then a clean white bathroom. The boy pushed Sam in to the tub then dove into under the sink pulling out a wrench. He tossed it over to Sam who caught it surprising himself. The boy turn the spout upside down with one hand.\n\nFix it. and he left slamming the door behind him.\n\nWHAT'S HAPPENING!\n\nHe could hear activity outside, they sounded busy but the window was blocked by a bush of thorns. Now coming to his senses he stepped out of the tub and dropped the wrench on an open hamper. He washed his face with cold water but felt no better.\n\nKNOCK KNOCK\n\nThe door opened. Evelyns face appeared with a nervous smile. \n\nOh good you're done. well then I won't keep you. She opened the door fully and the curly haired boy stood covered in dirt and huffing. Behind her two girls on either side held onto her pants, all covered in dirt. Down the hall the rest of her children peeked from behind door ways and up a staircase.\n\nAndrew began pushing Sam again but Sam could hear the child straining behind him. Sam was already at the front door when he managed to run forward out of Andrews's reach. The boy fell and Same took off down the path to the shed. Climbing the small hill the path now ended at a tree. The remains of the shed nowhere to be seen. A girl watered the tree.\n\nThere you go Maple tree, you're okay.\n\nLittle girl, how long has this been here?\n\nOh since last summer She didn't turn to answer. It was the curly haired girl. Her hands and feet dirty and her white dress colored pinks and blues and greens from running through fields. Evelyn and her son now caught up.\n\nThank you mister Sam but we don't need anything else. She went to go around him for another push but he spoke up.\n\nWheres the animal?\n\nI buried it already Said Andy.\n\nThat quickly?\n\nIt was just a opossum. Didn't take very long.\n\nIt wasn't a opossum! It was huge as a bear, you killed it, it was amazing.\n\nMr. Sam! Please Andy is a small boy, he couldn't kill bear. He just kicked a opossum, you got scared and you think it was bear?\n\nNo it was as big as a bear, it looked like a wolf but perfectly black. Where'd you bury it. Sam looked to the boy.\n\nyou're standing on it. \n\nLooking down Sam now recalled that there hadn't been a small mound earlier. He walked off it now paying it respect. The girl with the watering can walk around it throwing seeds onto the still loose soil.\n\nWe can put its spirit to rest. Said Evelyn. But you can't disturb it now. That'd be very bad.\n\nThe young girl watered the mound and spoke. You're okay wolfie. You'll be alright.", "Long ago the twelve Olympians were seen as the absolute most powerful individuals that could be imagined. Everyone knew this in the ancient world, and because of this, no one dared to defy them. Only a madman would defy the people that give them everything they have, the sea, their crops, animals, their children. In fact the Greeks thought they owed everything to these gods and that is absolutely true. However it is said that the gods were just as reliant on their people as people were reliant on them. You see, the essence of the gods power, was directly related to how much they were worshiped and praised. Without being loved and worshiped, the gods would slowly die. Sadly, a long time ago Greece fell. It has been centuries since that gods were worshiped and seen as almighty. As a result, every Greek God slowly withered away and died. All except one. Zeus, the most powerful god was said to rival the power of all the gods combined and for that very reason he was able to hold out far longer than any other. He waited and waited to be worshiped once more like the glory days so his power could return to him and all his friends could come back to life and enjoy power with him. However as we all know, that day never came. Zeus waited and waited but never again did the world love him. Zeus could see now it would never happen and they could never be worshiped again if he just waited. As a result he decided the one way to return his power and save his friends, was to be reborn. He used the last power he had to rebirth him and the other Olympians as babies in a mother womb. He needed someone with enough love to return the power of the olympians and no one loves and cares about anyone more than a mother to her children. So that's where I came in.\nWhen the twelve babies were first born I was in shock. I thought I was some freak of nature. All the doctors were horrified. They had never seen anything close to that before. At first I shared their reaction. However I then realized I would love them all the same. When I first brought them home, I didn't know what to do. I was lost. I had no husband to help me out so it was just me. I decided to leave them in my room, giving them my bed. I went off to the kitchen to get some food for them when I heard a loud sound. I ran into my room as fast as I could only to find nothing but the twelve babies. Then there was another. This time I could see what it was. It was a flash of lighting right outside our house. That lighting kept going in the same spot over and over again when there wasn't even a storm. I then noticed one of my children was moving his arm every time the lighting struck. I was in shock. I then noticed all my kids doing all sorts of crazy things like one of them literally shooting water out of his hand. Another shot fire a little too close to me. I saw one of my daughter's sort of controlling my cat, without even talking. They were all doing these unexplained things when I realized what was happening. They were the Olympians. I named each of them based off what kind of power they held after doing some research. I didn't know what to do except film it. I wanted the world to see the Olympians were back. I wanted them to be worshiped again. There was no doubt in my mind what they were. I was going to make sure people knew that the gods are back and that I'm their mother. It is time for a new era of mankind.\n", "\"Aw dammit. I knew I shouldn't have had sex with that peacock.\"\n\nInitially it seemed like an ordinary pregnancy, with a lot of kids. But no. One came from my head, one from my leg, and birthing 2 of them required me to be born on this small ass rock in the middle of the ocean.\n\nBut, damn, it was a sexy peacock.", "I love Blake.\n\nThe poet, I mean. I love the caressing touch he gives to each word on the paper, to each line and each slur. The handiwork of a master.\n\n”Tyger Tyger, burning bright,. In the forests of the night;. What immortal hand or eye,. Could frame thy fearful symmetry?”\n\nI believe the Tyger Blake refers to with such poise are my children, their collective spirit.\n\nThis is the second in a collection, to let you know in advance.\n\nI have twelve children, twelve heroes who shall bring about the advent of a new world. I have named them after the Twelve Olympians of the Ancient Greek mythos, for my husband and I believe the Greeks were the harbingers of an idea, a seed, that would create the ideal roots of the new world we imagine.\n\nBlake is one of the Modern Apostles. There were many, so many. I believe my children are the next.\n\n12, so much has to do with 12.\n\n12 Apostles at the right and left hands of Christ. 12 Olympians perched high atop Mount Olympus. 12 sons of the Allfather. 12 sacred imams of Muhammad the Prophet.\n\nBlake was the source for our strength. He envisioned the Tyger first, yet he was disillusioned by the lack of recognition. He was ignored by his contemporaries, chastised by the ignorance of his fellow scholars.\n\nMuch like my husband. He shares Blake’s prose, his intelligence, and even his name. William Blake, my husband. It was he who brought into existence the idea for the Olympian Project. He was also criticized by his fellow scientists. They called him unethical, they called him wicked, some even called him evil for daring to test the bounds between human and divine. \n\nBut he was not disturbed, turned away by the droning of mindless masses. No, he continued to work underneath the expanses, deep within secret networks that form our Sacred Tree today. He worked deep within Gethsemane, to perfect the Tyger.\n\n“Tyger Tyger, burning bright,. In the forests of the night;. What immortal hand or eye,. Could frame thy fearful symmetry?”\n\nPerfection, like the sculptor Pygmalion. He sculpted this beauty, this work of art, genius long dormant within the race which became disturbed and shaken by strife. \n\nI was the first to experience Tyger, to breathe it in. It changed me, as I absorbed it, took in the particles that composed such divinity. It changed me, it changed my children.\n\nI am the harbinger of a new seed, one which will create the ideal roots of a new and greater world.\n\nMy children shall be gods, immortals, and they shall sit atop Mount Olympus once again.", "“12. What even is that? Like... docecplits? How the hell am I supposed to raise 12 goddamn kids?”\nYour doctor smiles. “Look at this as... a modern miracle!”\n“It’ll be a miracle if my fucking vagina isn’t ripped to shreds. Fuck me...”\n“Ah, well that’s what got you into trouble in the first place, isn’t it?”\nYou did not find it funny.\n\n~~\n\nIt took you a while to track him down. You had matched on tinder, had sex, and then he ghosted you. Nothing unusual, except for the cramping, and vomiting, and mood swings that came in the following month. It was then you found out- you’re preggers! Hooray... \nYou resolved to raise the baby by yourself. If the man couldn’t handle pillow talk after sex, how was he gonna deal with a kid?\nBut you knew you couldn’t just... have 12 kids. Who does that? That’s almost certainly a reality TV show, and even on those the kids are different ages. It’s a good thing you always wanted a big family.\nAnyways, the fuckboy. You tracked him down to a surprisingly nice apartment building. You caught the door as someone else entered and found his apartment and knocked.\n“Oh, uh, hi! It’s good to see you again!”\nThe man behind the door fumbled through his obvious lie.\n“Sure sure. You got me pregnant and there’s 12 kids in my womb so I’m gonna need you to do something, here.”\nYou’re not sure what reaction you were anticipating, but his lack of surprise wasn’t one of them.\n“Shit. I guess condoms are no good against godly genes”.\n“The fuck do you mean by that?”\nThe man in front of you suddenly shifted in shape, growing taller, wider, and... brighter? You squinted at his form.\n“I think I should re-introduce myself. I’m Zeus.”" ]	5
	[WP] Alien life in another galaxy develops its own social media platform, and you discover it on accident in the dark web. You alert NASA of your discovery, and they try to make contact.	[ "The air hummed with the heat of a few hundred people crammed together, ties off, top few buttons undone, hair down, the smell of Chinese food lingering past its welcome. Mark Winters was below average in the facets of life he considered important. He was a mysterious almost mythical figure to his children; his car was heading for an embarrassingly smokey breakdown; he was bullied throughout his schooling which had lead to him developing crippling self esteem issues; when he was six he slipped on a supermarket floor and managed to break his arm, an incident which haunts his dreams to this day. This is the man tasked with making first contact, and as he once again uses his shirt sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow, all he can think about is how everyone in the room had just witnessed him do such a thing. All eyes were trained on his computer screen, and him, mouths agape, brows furrowed, silent.\n\nThe keyboard clicks and clacks were like sonic booms to every ear close by, figuratively echoing around the world, as a very visceral appreciation of life buzzed through the bodies of all present. Much like in death, the unknown loses its power over you once you've touched it, but unlike in death, these unlucky few had been tasked with taking a leap towards their gamble with nothingness. The infinite possibilities were not lost on them, as missing lovers and might-have-beens rushed through their heads, and many focused on picturesque scenes of home comforts and summer suns. Suddenly their own conflicts and quarrels, even their beliefs and long championed structures, seemed to fade away into a heady sense of lightheadedness. For the first time in any of their lives, they felt a true and tangible oneness with the violent roar of Earth's oceans; they saw themselves in the rolling of our skies; they witnessed an intrinsic energy which some described as 'the fundamentals of life'.\n\nPerhaps this is why their findings never left that room, because without that context, without that blissful rerouting of the mind, all that was found would be utterly incomprehensible. We understand they unanimously rejoiced when the countdown appeared on the screen, drowning in love, feeling no fear, pure of mind, dissolving into the passivity of the flow, laughing while they acknowledged the likelihood of our world coming to an end after the five days ticking away on the machines in front of them, as warm and calm eyes met one another and beamed eternally.\n\nClothes were shed and love was made. They did not eat for five days. And instead of telling the rest of us about our end, they elected to do nothing at all, until judgement day, throughout which they held hands and watched the fires burn, embracing one another, calm.\n\n\n\n", "It was amazing, but also terrifying.\n\nI was on the web, trying to find a website my conspiracy theorist friend was telling me about. I thought it was going to be some type of podcast, not a real, REAL conspiracy. That was, until, my friend “accidentally” got into a car crash and ended up in a coma. And the day after that, two guys in black suits came up to me and spouted passive aggressive threats, saying I could, quote on quote, “disappear” if I went on that website.\n\nI decided that I was going to go on the site, no matter what the consequences were. I was in my basement, with a pistol in hand. They weren’t taking my alive. I typed in the URL and found…\n“Welcome to GalaxyBook, the Milky Ways largest social media site”. What the heck, I thought to myself. I clicked to see what was trending in the Galaxy. Apparently, Toz’Bakur the Vosian was visiting the planet Akaskan. I scrolled down and saw millions of aliens, showing of new spaceships, exotic cuisine and alike. But than I discovered something unsettling. The CIA has a profile on GalaxyBook. I read some of their posts. \n\n‘LOL, My planet is to stupid to find alien life” “Our Solar System is Trashy, we gotta move” I had to show this to NASA. “Hands up, hacker” called a CIA agent behind me. “I need to send a DM to this alien girl I met”" ]	2
	[WP] It's the Purge, but with a twist. For 24hours, everything that is legal becomes illegal.	[ "\"Shit, it's the breathing police! Quick, the bowls\".\n\nThe car stopped on the side of the highway. Marthy and Jane fished out 2 fish bowl full of pool water from the back seat. In a hurry, they put the custom bowls over their head and graped small white boards and pens. The officier walked to their car and lighted up their vehicule with his flashlight.\n\n\"Good evening. Papers please.\" Said the officer.\n\n(We don’t have them, sir) appeared on Jane's board.\n\n\"Alright, have you been breathing this evening? \"\n(Only under the kid pool's water, sir.) Wrote Marthy.\n\n\"I see. Have you been drinking and driving?\"\n\n(Yes, sir!) The 2 teens vigorously nodded their heads. Some water spilled on the dashboard.\n\n\"Good, good. You can go now.\"" ]	1
	[WP] It's finally here, you've graduated Adventurer School. Today, you are provided a trusty steed appropriate for your class and skillset. Still, you are a little taken aback when you approach your assigned stable and are gifted a dire rat, while your nemesis is gifted a flying griffin.	[ "\"Huh.\"\n\nThe commissioner handed the reins to me with a beaming smile, oblivious to my confusion. \"Congratulations!\" he said, with an unnatural cheeriness. \"A dire rat! Ferocious yet practical. A true survivor's companion.\"\n\nI looked casually to the left. Plononius sat astride a mighty, muscular Griffin. \"Ferocious-yet-practical, huh?\" I asked absently. The Griffin called out and Plononius drew his sword, brandishing it above his head, glinting it in the sunlight and casting a beam directly into my eyes. I rubbed them instinctively and when I looked back he was already gone, leaving me to wonder if I had truely seen him, or had imagined the affair. The fact that this was an internal debate I could have didn't help my growing sense of disbelief.\n\nTurning to the rat, it looked up at me inquisitively taking a few cautious steps forward. It sniffed my torso and rubbed its face against my chest, so that it leaned its side against me and started to make a strange, chirping sound. \"Ferocious yet practical , yeah?\" I said again, this time looking at the commissioner for a response. \"Aw, it trusts you,\" he commented. \"Happy travels, adventurer! May your plunders be bountiful, and blunders sparse.\" Cheery.\n\nI took the rat by the reins, and walked it outside. Passing by Iselda, I saw her unbridled joy as a black and neon-green, baby dragon bounced out of its stall, affably burping sparks of necrofire. Iselda audibly squeed and beamed so brightly, the whole yard couldn't help, but notice. Iselda was a good friend, but I hated her in that moment. Solemnly, I grumbled as I dragged myself out of the stables, walking into the forest to be alone with my... creature.\n\nI sat in the shadows of a great oak tree, lone in a field. A glade, in fact, surrounded by dense forest. It was hard to get to, an almost guaranteed source of solitude. I picked up and threw rocks at nothing, hitting imaginary targets of my classmates, who all had fantastical, dream creatures that any adventurer would be happy to call their own for the rest of their careers. My rat, I let bound around mindlessly. It sniffed inceasantly, scurried, and dug holes, I presumed, in the course of looking for sweet roots and grubs. Finding very little, it ran over and put its head in my lap, much like a dog might. Hungry, are we? I thought to myself bitterly. \n\nI paused for a moment and decided that, as disappointed as I was, I wasn't cruel. I found a few old wheels of cheese, which my rat ate eagerly before curling up, chittering happily, and going to sleep. It was bizarre how silent the rat was, as it laid there breathing noiselessly. I was so fixated on trying to hear something, that I neglected to notice that I was no longer alone. A deep chuckling emanated from behind and I groaned. Was Polonius here to gloat? Did he see me from the sky on his flying steed and laugh? I turned expecting to see Captain Pompus, but I was pleasantly surprised to see someone else, entirely.\n\nDruth, Eater of Shadows. The Death Walker. My teacher and mentor. How in all the hells...\n\n\"Well done,\" he said. I was confused.\n\n\"At what, feeding a rodent?\"\n\nDruth looked at me, seemingly amused, as if I had missed an obvious punchline. He pondered a minute, emerging fully from a shadow cast by the tree and was suddenly standing next to me. It was so casual, effortless. His cloak ruffled as he sat, poised so the rat was between him and me.\n\n\"Do you understand how rare it is for a dire rat to take to a person as quickly as yours has?\" His eyes studied my face, which I assume told him No, I hadn't. He smirked, \"Dire rats are vicious creatures. A talented necromancer or shadowbinder needs to summon one to control one and, even then, it's less 'control' and more 'aim, let loose, and hope for the best .' But you, Dignan Starborn?\" he said poking me in the breast plate. \"It took to you in 5 seconds and was begging for food from you within a day.\" Druth pulled a pipe out and tapped it on a rock before repacking it. He lit it and took a long pull, closing his eyes as if playing out a scene in his mind. \"This creature was wild, Dignan. The hunter who wrangled it for you needed his arm regrown in the medical wing. He's still there, right now, stuck in drugsleep for the next week or so.\" He passed me the pipe, and the scent of potent, sweet tobacco filled my nose. Nervously, I pulled and began to sputter and cough almost instantly.\n\n\"Yeah, it's a nasty habit, but it's a rare honor regardless. I can't have you walking away without fullfilling the rite.\" He took another pull and blew a ring. \"Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Dignan?\"\n\nI nodded quickly. \"I'm really good at befriending big rats.\"\n\nDruth burst out laughing. \"No, no,\" Druth said between guffaws and tears. \"I mean, yes, but that's not quite all of it.\" Druth settled and steeled himself before looking at me seriously. \"Look, Dignan. No one becomes a necromancer because they want to. Do you remember raising your first corpse?\" \n\n\"Yeah, it freaked me out. I was staving. Hungry. I hadn't eaten in weeks.\"\n\n\"Where'd you find the corpse?\"\n\n\"In an alleyway, near my corner. I hadn't been very successful in stealing food, I thought he might have some on him\"\n\n\"Uh hmm. And?\"\n\n\"He didn't and I... I was going to eat him.\"\n\n\"Couldn't could you?\"\n\nI shook my head, \"No. I needed to. I really needed it. But, I just couldn't.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"I sat there with my hands on him, feeling that pull. But, also, just not letting it happen. It was like I was tethered for a moment, bouncing between two poles. And, suddenly, a dull green light emerged from his chest. I panicked, and the light slammed back downward into him. When he stood up, I panicked again, stabbed him, and ran. It didn't dawn on me what happened until he started attacking people after awhile.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Druth said wistfully. \"Sounds familiar. A little different, though. But, not as much as you'd think.\" Druth stood up, putting his pipe away.\n\n\"We became necromancers because we needed to, kid. If you're not careful, it's definitely something you get stuck doing. It's a hard living, this death trade. I'd kill for a chance like yours, Dignan.\" He patted the sleeping rat. \"Connect to life. Empathy. You could have many creatures to conjure and command, but the live ones you connect to, they'll love you.\"\n\n\"You think I could ever tame a griffin?\"\n\nDruth stopped suddenly. \"No, of course not. You can't tame a griffin. They're independent, sentient creatures. Befriend, sure. Tame? Absolutely not.\"\n\n\"Polonius was gifted a griffin.\"\n\nDruth looked off and smirked slightly, as if remembering a humerous anectdote. \"Oh yeah.\" Then he looked at me directly, \"No one gets what they want or deserve at the academy. Everyone gets what they need to succeed, instead.\"\n\n\"And, what exactly did Polonius need?\"\n\n\"Outside of the occasional kick in the ass?\" Druth quipped.\n\n\"Humility.\"", "I stumbled backwards and fell flat on my ass as the beast pounced for my face. I went for my sword as it's claws landed on my chest digging into the hard leather chestplate. My sword was caught under its weight and unusable, so I went for my dagger but found my snack pouch. Adventuring is hard work. Lots of snacks are required. I came up with a piece of cheese just as the beast opened it's maw filled with rows of razor sharp spiked teeth and threw the cheese into its mouth. It swallowed. Then chirped and rubbed its massive head into mine. It licked my face with its sandpaper tongue and yipped at me. It crawled off of me, the size of a large horse. I shit myself. I've been scared of rats since I was a kid, and here they give me a dire rat? For fucks sake. Applause and cheers came my way as I stood and patted the terrifying creatures head as it nuzzled my hands. \n\nAcross the way my rival, Edgar was struggling to get away from a griffin that had decided it didn't like him. It grabbed him by his foot and flew up. He came screaming down alone moment's later. If the headmaster hadn't been there to use a featherfall he would have died. All around me screams of fear and pain emanated as the recently graduated students fought their new partners in a life or death struggle. \n\nI stood watching as dozens of people fought dragons and hydras and other terrifying creatures.\n\nI was very glad they had given me a dire rat. My mortal fear of rats was now gone. " ]	2
	[WP] One day, all your Reddit karma suddenly disappears. You make a post about it, only to notice it happened with a lot of other users. It's the work of a terrific monster: the chupakarma.	[ "Hey AskReddit! When I opened up a tab today all my karma was gone. Do you have any idea what happened? It’s no great loss because I’ve only posted like, twice, but what does it mean? Have I been banned or something? I don’t think I broke any rules?\n\nTrending on r/outoftheloop \n\nAnswered All my karma suddenly disappeared, and when I asked about it on a different subreddit, my only replies were from people whose karma also disappeared suddenly. What’s going on?\n\n>It’s probably a chupakarma.\n\n* What’s a chupakarma? I don’t live in Puerto Rico, and I’m pretty sure the internet isn’t made out of goats. Is it some sort of virus?\n\n>Yep. it’s a bit of a reddit legend here’s the link to an old out of the loop. Tldr; it’s been lying dormant for years, and starts eating karma by working its way up through the accounts with the least amount.\n\n* Soon it’ll be coming for the rest of us. \\\\\\\\/ 6 comments\n* Why, though? How do we know about it and how does it still exist?\n\n>Legend has it that it was created long ago by an unholy union of 4chan and buzzfeed. They decided to band together to conquer their ultimately superior foe, and created something so horrifying it took all of r/programming to come even close to defeating it. They locked it away in a file hidden deep within one of the mod’s computers. However, with the passage of time, the computer grew weaker and slower until one day, the mod, who had been so scarred by the battle that they repressed the incident, sold the computer to buy a new monitor. Someone must have broken through the ancient seals and unleashed it upon unsuspecting redditors. I suggest you all deactivate your accounts now, to spare yourselves the shame of losing everything. The Chupakarma is cruel, and you will never recover from the feeling of losing years and years of work go to senseless waste\n\n* Tldr; You obviously have no idea. \n\n>Doubt it if you want, but your day of reckoning is coming.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nsorry for the formatting, I tried" ]	1
	[WP]The Joker comes across Mr. Rogers while setting up bombs inside an old TV production warehouse, Mr. Rogers calmly begins talking to the The Joker	[ "The headless body of the security guard slowly slumped to the floor. Satisfied, Joker smiled, taking a quick sniff, before tucking away the acid glower he had used to melt the poor man’s head away. \n\n“Super-duper” he smirked. \n\nLike all of Joker’s plans, this one was smart, slim line and simple. He’d decided to storm the studio where a satellite feed was beaming the news live across the East Coast and hijack it to announce his latest heist. If it meant killing a few people who got in his way, Joker was fine with that too. \n\nTo get to the live studio, it required passing by a number of sets, some still actively producing shows, but most half disassembled and packed away, the props gathering dust in the gloom of the old production warehouse. Only the east end was still in use, Gotham Nightly News using the space for its prime time set. \n\nJoker took his time, playing with the various things he found; an old walking cane that could perhaps be fitted with a gun, a set of dolls that had lost their hair at some point – Harley would like those – and finally, a big old box of puppets. \n\nNow, puppets weren’t usually his thing, but Joker was nothing if not resourceful and he wondered if these perhaps could be fitted with some sort of fingers removing trap and handed out to children, to snip their fingertips off, just for fun. He idly turned one over in his hands, looking to see if a mechanism could fir into the head, when a voice came from the shadows. \n\n“I see you’ve met Henrietta Pussycat. She’s an old, old friend of mine.” \n\nNot many men could walk up to Joker unheard, but this one seemed to move particularly softly. Perhaps it was that he didn’t stride, seeming to amble gently, or perhaps it was because he wore no shoes, only house slippers. \n\n“Looks like kitty has a touch of the mange if you ask me. Might be time to put her down.” The puppets seemed to have some meaning for him and Joker looked for the pain in the old man’s eyes. \n\nInstead he held his hand out, letting it sit in the air a foot or so from the Joker. “Hi, I’m Mr Rogers.” \n\nJoker considered the hand, checking to look for a trap and then carefully palming the joy buzzer into his own, before taking it. Mr Rogers jolted as the electricity surged into him, but he didn’t cry out. Joker held tight and pulled him closer. “I bet you know who I am.” \n\nAt last he let Mr Rogers go and the older man stepped back and sat down on some old boxes. He took a moment before he looked up again, but there was still no anger and no hostility in his eyes. “I guess I know who you are Sir, but then again, maybe I don’t.” he took a breath and pushed himself to his feet again. “I like to say that you don’t really know a person until you’ve had a conversation with them, so maybe after this I’ll have a new answer.” \n\nFor a second Joker paused, before looking down to check his hand and ensure that the buzzer was on a high enough setting. It must have hurt like hell, but the man had made no sign and shown no anger… still. He was as bad as the damn bat. \n\n“Riiiight, conversation, knowing, yada yada, I guess so old man. Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll live through this conversation and we’ll see what happens then, huh?” Carefully and deliberately, Joker raised Henrietta Pussycat to eye level, before pulling her head clean from her body. “Guess that was the last of her nine lives.” He snickered. \n\nThe two pieces dropped to the floor and Mr Rogers glanced down. For a moment he looked a little glassy eyed, but it was gone when he looked back up. “It’s just a puppet, just a tool to help kids understand how the world works. Like a cat, she can be sewn back together, nothing is ever broken so badly that it can’t be fixed with a little love.” \n\nThe Joker’s eyes rolled so hard that they almost made a noise. “Oh P-leeease, don’t give me that crap. I’ve cut enough bodies up to know that not everything goes back together, no matter how little you make the stiches, you always have a gall bladder or two left over.” \n\nFor the first time, Mr Rogers seemed to stumble, but he found his words after a moment. He leaned back and looked up, as if summoning some greater willpower. “I can feel it, you know?” \n\nAgainst his better judgement the Joker couldn’t help himself. “Feel what? The end coming closer? My boredom? The stick shoved up your ass?” \n\n“Your pain.” \n\nFor a moment there was silence. The Joker’s mouth opened, but then closed again. \n\n“You hurt others and I understand why. You have this pain inside you that you can’t get rid of and perhaps you think that by hurting other people, you’ll make them take on a little of your pain, but I think that instead, you find that it just adds you yours and leaves you with more.” \n\nJoker’s chuckle was half hearted. “Look old man, many have tried to psychoanalyse me and I they’ve ended up mad or dead and even…” \n\n“I forgive you.” \n\nMr Rogers words cut through the rant. “W… what?” \n\n“I forgive you. I know you’ve done terrible things, but whatever you’ve done, you’re a person and everyone needs love and forgiveness and so I want you to know that I love you and I forgive you.” \n\nAgain, Joker’s mouth opened and closed, but before he could react, Mr Rogers had stepped forward and took him in an embrace. \n\nIt was strange, not like the hard, angry embrace that Harley gave, or even the barely-remembered embrace of his mother, from so long ago. This was a real, genuine embrace, one with warmth and feeling, and for just a moment he let it happen. \n\nHis senses returned and he pushed back and Mr Rogers let him go, whispering to the Joker as as he did so. “I forgive you.” \n\nJoker spun on his heel, disorientated and a little confused as to what was happening. He needed to get back to the plan and away from gentle men in knitwear. Revolving a hundred and eighty degrees, he found the only other man who could sneak up on him - an altogether less sympathetic figure, dressed all in Kevlar black. \n\n“He might, but I don’t.” \n\n*****\n\n/r/fringly for my not-dead-gonna-be-posting-there-more subreddit\n\n/r/DCFU for Reddit's DC universe fan fiction universe, written by lovely people like me. My DCFU Batman is currently in the middle of a bit arc and we're about to find out who the big baddy who has been tormenting him for ages is. Just saying... " ]	1
	[WP] After death you come into consciousness as a spirit. You find yourself in a white room with nothing other than a red button in the center. Without knowing its function, you decide to press the button.	[ "I don’t think there’s such a thing as just one color back home.\n\nI have, had a cousin who was big on spelunking. I never joined him of course, who the hell wants to spend their time crawling through tiny, spiky holes? No thanks.\n\nHe had this one story though, loved to tell it at any kind of get together, took a fall this one time and got separated from his group. Apparently there was a steeper incline then they had been told or something like that? That part was always unclear. He ended up being stuck in total darkness for an hour or so, with a broken headlight. \n\nThis was always his favorite part to tell, he would ask everyone to put their hands right in front of their faces. Then he’d go on and on about how it was so black that you wouldn’t have been able to see the hand right in front of you. There was far more embellishing involved in his telling of the story. He’d be up and waving his hands by this point, impish enthusiasm infectious to everyone except me. The story ended with him heroically heaving himself all the way up the cave without the assistance of his team, who, in some versions, had left him for dead.\n\nOne time, after a few beers, he confessed to me that the entire story was bullshit. I had responded by just looking at him, waiting for the actual story. He sighed and told me that what actually happened was the most terrifying hour and twenty-one minutes of his life. No light, only communication by shouting with people who he could not see in any capacity. \n\nImagine that but with white. \n\nI’d woken up, in a manner of speaking, on the ‘ground’. Just as my cousin had experienced, my hands were hidden from me. Obscured by an overwhelming presence of blinding brightness. \n\nI remember yelling for a while. At first it was questions.\n\n“Is anyone out there?”\n\n“Where am I?”\n\n“Why?”\n\nThey eventually turned into screams, which, in turn, turned into hoarse crying. My pleas couldn’t find any surface to echo off of, they seemed to simply hang in the air.\n\nI couldn’t tell you how long I had walked before reaching the button.\n\nA polished marble pedestal almost blended in with its surroundings if not for the device sitting on top of it. It almost looked like one of those buttons your teacher or boss would keep around, producing an electronic “easy” when pressed. \n\nIt looked brand new, for a moment I actually considered that it was one of those buttons. Upon reaching it though, I found nothing written on the top of the button as well as a note stashed under it. I almost smacked the button immediately for no reason besides my lack of mental stimulation was threatening to evaporate my brain if it continued on.\n\nThe note was succinct. \n\nI’m sorry, I couldn’t take it. Maybe you will be stronger than I was.\n\n-Connor\n\nI noticed the pedestal also held a pen on top of it.\n\nSo I’m going to push that button now.\n\nFor what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Anything has to be better than this though.\n\n-Michael\n" ]	1
	[WP] It was raining. A lonely night at the bar. A pretty girl sits beside our protagonist.	[ "There's something truly special about peace. For just a second. \n\nSitting on this stool, bent over the bar. Resting my head on my arms, staring at the last bit of booze pored this night. Barry, the guitar player of the local band, is running tunes slowly and swayingly with his girlfriend playing the bass to accompany him. They get out of tune or rythm every once in a while, or miss a note and giggle it off, whisper sweet nothingness to each other and try again. They've been at it for about half an hour now. They're having the time of their life. It's like their happiness is a sun and I'm just here absorbing the glow. Michael the bartender is finishing up with the dishwasher in the back. Lance was sick so he had to pick up that duty. He's off tomorrow, lucky for him.\n\nI want to check the time but that would mean breaking away from the sight of that slightly brown tinted liquid in that tiny glass. \n'Happiness in a bottle', a stupid name for a funny drink. Sometimes I try to see tiny flows in it, but it feels like my mind is playing tricks on me. It's not too warm. It's not too cold. I could be here for another year or 2, maybe 3 or 4 or.....10. As long as time didn't really pass. This is bliss.\n\nSomeone's walking in. Heels. Thank God, it's not Antonio. I don't want to leave. I don't want to go home. I let it be. Someone takes a seat right next to me. Bruh. The bar is basically empty. Couldn't you sit anywhere else?\n\nI ignore the dull ache on the sides of my eyes and look over to whoever is disturbing the most peaceful waking moment of my life.\nA lady. Black jeans, denim jacket. Hunched over with her back turned towards me, looking at the door. She pulls her phone out of her purse the bright light from it pulls me out of my half slumber. How do I get this one out of here, without being overly rude?\nA moment of brilliance hits me. I'm going to flirt with her. Gets 'em every time.\n\n\"Excuse me, miss,\" I say as I haul my head off of the counter and point at Barry and his girl, \"shouldn't you be joining those two over there?\".\n\nShe looks anxiously at me, then to Barry, and back to me. She looks scared. Almost got it. Just need to drive this one home and she'll bugger off.\n\n\"Eh, why would I?\"\n\n\"You look like you play music.\"\n\nShe frowned. Almost, come on, take the bait.....take the bait, damnit.\n\n\"What kind of music do I look like I play?\"\n\n\"The harp. In heaven, with the rest of the angels.\"\n\nFrom the corner of my eye I saw Barry going wide-eyed. She blushed, looked away and covered her mouth. Must have been a bad one. Nailed it.\n\n\"Eh, I wish. Thanks.\"\n\nWait. No. She was smiling. No, no, this was not part of the plan. Fuck. I need to double down. " ]	1
Poems encouraged. This is part of [a mod challenge](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/95l5x0/ot_wednesday_wildcard_challenge_the_mods/e3tos95/?context=3) I made, but anybody is free to respond, of course! (/u/Fringly)	[WP] Nighttime	[ "I've struggled to get something that fits this theme. Here goes.\n\nLifted\n\nDusk snaps its fingers, and the sun falls \nOff the world's edge; twilight its last salvo.\n\nThe cratered moon, pockmarked and plain, is shielded \nBehind its cloudspun cloak, a veil\n\nDrawn over the night sky like a sea; \nRippling and poppling over a dark bed peppered with stars.\n\nIt is a patchwork quilt, a sewn structure \nThreaded together with silver stitches.\n\nYour eyebrows jab up at the dark, \nAnd I feel myself lifted, higher;\n\nBut they pull at the sky until its seams slip away, \nAnd the whole thing goes,\n\nand falls to pieces.", "Dusk falls.\n\nGradually at first, a silken veil\n\nDrawn over an unsuspecting afternoon;\n\nThe sluggish light withdraws,\n\nAnd dark sweeps in.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nTwilight,\n\nAnd the veil smothers treetops \n\nIn a silent, deathly haze. Squinting,\n\nI see your face turned grey,\n\nStone-hewn. \n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nDarkness.\n\nI cannot see your face, my love,\n\nBut I know that it is there - there,\n\nA halo of grass and leaves, a statue,\n\nEternal.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nMoon rise,\n\nLight flutters in hair and eyes and neck,\n\nNeck rose-red still, my hand\n\nIn crimson paint upon your flesh,\n\nUnsuspecting.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nMidnight.\n\nNo light, no sound, no breath.\n\nI hold you on the frosty earth,\n\nCold and perfect as a stone. \n\nI am cold too.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nNo idea what that was, never done poetry before so it's very rough but I had fun writing it... not in a weird way though\n\nEdit: formatting " ]	2
	[WP]: You have a gift. You make people care about things, passionately. Unfortunately, you have no control over what they end up passionate about.	[ "\"I'm not doing it.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Come on, just once!\"\n \n&nbsp; \n\n\"No! I said I'm not doing it tonight, just a normal night out where we drink normal beer and talk about normal shit.\"\n \n&nbsp;\n \n\"But-\"\n \n &nbsp;\n\n\"What if whoever we choose falls in love with you again? Or with me? We still can't go to the West End because of that shit.\"\n \n&nbsp;\n \n\"Ok fine. What kind of normal shit do you want to talk about?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Look, I just...\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"What?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Sometimes I feel like you just spend time with me because of...what I can do, and not because you even like me or whatever.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Ok, you said normal shit. That isn't normal shit, that's heavy shit.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"That's not a no.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"What the fuck? Stop being ridiculous. Hey, did you see the-\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Um, that's still not a fucking no. Say it.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Say what? Dude you're being-\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"SAY that you only spend time with me because I can do what I can do. I know it's true, so just fucking say it out loud.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"This is bullshit. What's wrong? Why are you being such a spazz right now?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"You know what? Fine. I'll do it.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"What? Are you sure?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Yeah I'll do it, in fact I'm gonna go fucking all out this time. I want to test the limits of this shit.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Wow. Um, ok, so like everyone in the bar?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Nope. I'm gonna do one person over and over again. See how long it takes until they just fucking explode or something. See what happens.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Holy shit. You have someone picked out?\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Yup.\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Who is it?\n\nWait. No. NO-\"" ]	1
	[WP] Multiplayer Dreams: You get invited into another person's dream. You can decline, but you decide to be brave and accept. You can participate in what's happening but you can't control the outcome.	[ "\"Ding!\"\n\"Ding!\"\n\"Ding!\"\n\nJericho starts to groan in annoyance as the sound of invites echo along the inside of her brain. She knows full well she could mute them, but sometimes it's just nice to visit your friends in whatever candyland or disneyland or just land they dream up. It's fun for her.\n\nTonight though, the messages are just non stop and almost seem to be escalating in speed. At this point, she's had enough. Jericho musters up all of her courage and quickly accepts one. This puts a stop to all other messages as she's quickly teleported into the dream bubble.\n\n\nJericho appears in a serene woodland, next to a calming view of a lake being overlooked by a setting sun. She studies the place in awe, and decides to explore the place. Venturing deeper into the woods, she discovers that multiple of them are signed, with unintelligible symbols in what she believes to be red spray paint. This slightly unnerves her, but she shortly continues her trek. \n\nJericho continues to find things frequently unsettling, and some make her jump out of her skin. She spots her golden retriever, fittingly named Sunny, tied by his neck to one of the tall trees. His body is limp. Encircling him is more unintelligible symbols and this time, she knows what it actually is. It's at this point that Jericho realizes something.\n\nShe doesn't actually know who's dream she's in. \n\nJericho promptly becomes dizzy with fear, and races back towards the direction of the entrance. As she runs, she repeatedly passes by things of hers. She glances at a couple pictures of her, and very frilly pink lingerie that aren't hers on a wooden table, encased in glass with candles confining them from outside.\n\nAt last, she arrives at the lake. She begins to slow and crouches over her knees, her lungs gasping for breath. Suddenly, she hears a breathy noise in her left ear. It's so terrifyingly close that she's forced into a numb silence out of fear. The wheezing slowly erupts into coughing laughter, and then a full on cackle. Jericho hears a man whisper into her ear something that she can't forget soon enough.\"Hello, cutie. Nice to see you up close for once. You have lovely hair, y'know.\" The man places a vice grip on her shoulder and comes even closer to her face, talking in an even softer voice.\n\n\"It would be a perfect addition to my collection. Although, it would be nice to have the entire real deal there too.\"\n\nJericho manages to push him off her miraculously, much to his surprise.\"This isn't supposed to happen! This is my dream!!\" He cries out angrily. He begins to chase her, only for a second Jericho to appear behind him.\n\nThe second Jericho begins to call out sweetly to him, which although she's still escaping the dream, can't help but gag at. The man wheeze laughs again, realizing that the reason things didn't go as planned was because she had accepted. He laughs and begins to walk towards the other girl. Jericho can't bare to watch anymore and escapes, out of the sheer horror of what will happen to her double.\n\n\"Ding!\"\n\"Ding!\"\n\"Ding!\"\n\nJericho breathes in pure relief as the previously annoying messages flood her ears. She now only feels comforted by them. Despite everything, sleep came surprisingly easy.\n\nAfter the incident, Jericho never answered any dream calls again, much to her friends chagrin.\n\nAnd when her parents announced the move, Jericho couldn't have been more elated. She wanted to be as far from the backwoods of her home as much as she possibly could.", "The messages started at one, at first I declined, but her spamming felt dire. I didn't want to join in on others dreams, I preferred my own where I had some semblance of control. Another five invites flooded the corner of my eye. I squeezed the bridge of my nose and shook my head, hoping this was important. I moved to my sleep pod and plugged the cord into the outlet in my neck. I shuddered as the connection was made. My eyes became heavy, and the glass door of the pod closed with a whine.\n\nA green lake rippled out from my feet and stretched on forever, as a cloudless red sky smothered me from above. I felt sick to my stomach, it smelt as if a school of fish was rotting nearby. Gurgles and shrieks rang out around me, and I quickly counted my fingers, one, two... Ten, eleven, this place was not real. I steadied myself and took a deep breath doing my best not to gag on the stench. \n\n\"Jelaca,\" I shouted into the abyss. The shrieks grew louder, and water splashed everywhich way. \"Jelaca, where are you.\"\n\nThe pond responded by rippling arround my feet, rising slowly to my ankles. It's not real, it's just her dream. There was a hand struggling for the surface only a step away, I reached for it and pulled it out, a faceless husk rising from below. I fell back in shock as the thing continued to struggle for air, sinking back into the green. This time it was completely submerged. It's not real, that wasn't a person. \n\nI kept searching the vast lake, the water reaching my knees slowed my pace to a crawl. Then I saw it. A small rock in the distance, with a single occupant curled in the fetal position. \"Jelaca.\" \n\nHer blonde hair shimmered and she turned to me, green tears trickled from eyes plopping one by one into the pond. \"You came.\" She said with a weak smile. \n\n\"Jelaca, this is a nightmare, you have to wake up.\" I said wadding closer to her, the water reaching my waist. \n\n\"It's not. This is real,\" she said burrying her head in her knees. \n\n\"Jelaca, no this isn't real.\" I grabbed onto the stone but the smooth surface was too slick. I splashed down into the water, when I stood it was at my chest. \"You have to wake up.\" \n\n\"I've tried, but. But I...\" She paused and then held up her fingers. One, two... nine, ten. I looked at my fingers, ten. This is real, this is happening. My heart throbbed in my chest and my breath staggered. I tried to climb the rock again, it was still too slick. The tears flowed out her eyes and she tried to cover them, but the water kept coming. \"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, oh god I'm so sorry.\" \n\nThe water was rising faster, standing on the tips of my toes, my head barely made it above the surface. She looked down at me with a pained face and continued to sob. I reached up to the platform and grabbed her wrist, she slid down the rock and splashed into the pond. Her head popped up with a gasp for air, before she could scold me I wrapped her up tight. \"I'm not like them, I won't let you leave me behind. I'll be with you forever.\" Her hands stopped struggling and returned my embrace. The water rose above our heads, and I used my last breath to say those words. Bubbles flew from my mouth and the world grew darker, I started to sink, but she held me tight. \n\nI spit, and coughed as the sleep pod rang and flashed red with warning lights. I was back in my room, and the sun flittered into my room. I scrolled through my contacts and found jelaca's name. It rang and rang for an unbarable minute. Then she picked up, \"Jelaca I-\"\n\n\"I know,\" she said, \"I love you too.\" \n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] A photographer notices a person keeps showing up in all of their pictures, one that was not seen when the photograph was taken.	[ "I sat tucked in a blanket and drinking hot tea. It wasn't winter, it wasn't rain, but I had the shivers anyway. I had the shivers real bad.\n\nI was in a police station, sitting in front of an officer who looked over all of my pictures I've given him. At first he thought I was joking and it was a part of some sort of an art project, but it did not take long for him to see how actually shaken I was.\n\n\"Alright, we already sent a unit to check out this tree,\" the officer said and still shifted through the pictures. There were about 30 of them, all of a lonely tree in a meadow. I was trying to get a gothic look out of them. All dark, gritty, the \"lonely tree\" cliche. And it worked.\n\n\"Now, don't be mad at me...\" the officer continued, carefully: \"It is just that when you came in here, you were really, you know, out there. No worries, I believe you and the car has been sent. I mean, things like these happen. I suppose, if it hadn't happened til now, it was bound to happen someday.\"\n\n\"You see, these pictures...\" he placed on his table 10 pictures in a row. All of the same tree where I tried to capture it's lower branches. All of them dark, gritty. All of them having a hanging pair of legs in them. Legs hanging that I had not noticed before. Woman's legs. I don't know how I could have missed them. I now have the feeling that I might even had brushed against them at one moment.\n\n\"You see, these pictures I understand.\" officer shifted through them without looking for anything particular. It was three other pictures that had captured his attention.\n\n\"Are you absolutely sure that the timestamps are right and you went from the barn to the windmill straight after?\" he asked, without trying to sound displeased, just as a matter of fact. Just noting down small details.\n\n\"Absolutely.\" I agreed. \"That is the way to the bus stop. If I had gone the other way, I wouldn't have gotten home.\"\n\n\"If you had gone the other way, you wouldn't have gotten home...\" he repeated absent-mindedly. Slowly he placed all three pictures on the table and looked through them. In them you could see the full tree and a barn in the background, distancing with every picture. The officer had forgotten that I'm also in the room.\n\nI did not understand his obsession with such a minor detail. Because only after a while I realized that in those shots there were no signs of anyone in the tree at all." ]	1
	[WP] You sit down to watch tv with your ramen, another day in middle America. You hear a knock at the door and find two men in suits with strange accents asking to speak to you. They tell you that the great uncle you didn’t know you had has passed his castle onto his youngest blood relative: you.	[ "\"A castle?!\" You give the two men in black suits a confused and disbelieving look. \n\nThey reassure you that it is legitimate and completely yours, contents and the surrounding acres of forested land. It seems that the great uncle of yours has kept that castle a secret to all family members, only ever mentioning taking vacations to that country. You haven't even heard about this relative of yours besides a few names thrown around during reunions and such. But still, you think this is a sham. You laugh it off and close the door to your apartment, only to be held back by one of the men. The way this man held you from closing the door made the door feel like it weighed over a ton. They insist on explaining things in more detail and that they're rather do it inside. It seems you have no choice in this matter. \n\nThe two men in suits stand in front of you as you sit down on your couch, holding up the ramen cup as you slurp noodles. They begin explaining that the castle has been under your estranged uncle's surveillance for most of his life. The castle needed someone to watch over it, and with your great uncle passing, he only wanted the youngest to be the one to do so. The two men seem to know more than they're letting on, but the way they're explaining it seems that it's an urgent request. You're not one to turn down helping, but this is absurd. Moving all the way to this far-off country, living in a castle on a forest island? \n\n\"Are you seriously thinking I can just move there? I do have obligations here, you know. It's not like I can just go and do whatever.\" \n\nThat was a lie. You've been out of a job for a month now, struggling to get hired ever since that incident. Yeah, you'd rather not talk about that. But they brought it up and everything else that you've been up to in the last few years. Seems your great uncle has been keeping an eye on his heir long before his demise. And again, the two men assure you that everything will be taken care of. All family members will be notified about your disappearance and given a rather mundane explanation as to not arouse suspicion. All your belongings can easily be transported, not that there's a lot of it anyways. They also mentioned that all necessities and request can be met accordingly. It sound more tempting, given your dire situation as of right now. There really isn't any other choice here. I guess this is checkmate, you think to yourself. \n\n\"But what exactly did you mean when you said I needed to watch over the castle? You two seem capable enough, why not hire you to do it?\" \n\nIt seems this question carries a heavy weight on them. My great uncle must mean a lot to them. Huh. They explain that even though they want to do it themselves, and how they were disappointed with what they observed about you in the past few years, they simply cannot be the one to do so. Something about blood relatives being needed for the castle's watch. \n\n\"But I don't get why old man Jonathan would want me? I'm sure there's plenty of other capable candidates in the Morris family.\" Jonathan Morris, your great uncle, wasn't really mentioned a lot in the family. I guess that's what estranged means. I'm sure no one else in the bloodline even knew of him, much less know of his death. And these two men in suits did confirm it, saying that only you know of his death. They also told in great detail how you were specifically chosen because the position need to be on a certain generation in the bloodline. It also coincides with another clan's bloodline tradition, but no one has yet to fill that generation's spot. It comes down to you, and only you. \n\nThe next thing you know, these two well-dressed men are accompanying you on a trip to this far away island castle. After a really long flight, you then arrive at a pier where you board a small boat manned by a rather old-looking man, scrawny and frail, hunched over with his hooded robe draping down his frame. He extends a hand palm down, pointed at me. \n\n\"Excuse me? I don't know what you want, I...uh...\" \nErick, one of the two men who accompanied me on this trip produced a silver coin from his jacket pocket, giving it to the old man. The slender, bony fingers slowly grasp the coin and the old man let off a grisly chuckle. Bartley, the second man of the suit duo asked me to sit down for this boat ride, and watch out for flying creatures. \n\nAs the boat slowly lurched its way away from the coast, thick fog started to surround us. I glance towards the boatman as he kept on steering the boat. For someone of his stature, he sure is handling three men and his weigh pretty well on his boat. And we're not going slow either, despite the boat looking old and creaking every now and again. \nThings just keep getting weirder and weirder, until I felt a few bats whiff past my head, forcing me to duck and curl down. \n\n\"Jesus, fuck! The hell was that?!\" The boatman chuckled eerily again, Erick and Bartley just steeling themselves as they look onwards. I strain my eyes to where these two were looking at, and as if on cue, the mist slowly clears as I catch sight of the silhouette of a massive castle with the moon behind it. A feeling of coldness starts to envelop me, as if Death itself is embracing me. I grab myself, wrapping my arms around my torso as I grew weak and struggle to breathe. Bartley went to my side as Erick stretched his hand outwards towards me. My vision started going faint, with Bartley calling out asking me to keep it together and try to stay awake. Erick. Something started glowing. It was Erick, something he had. A ring. It glowed bright and then suddenly, a rush of heat flew past me and the boatman. The chills went away, I began catching my breath. Bartley propped me up as Erick gave me an assuring look, like he was saying \"I got you, kid.\" \n\nThen the boatman started chuckling again.\n\"I see. So this is who Master Jonathan has called forth,\" the boatman said. He brought his hand to his chin, like in a thinking gesture. \"Rather disappointing for a first encounter, but I've seen worse.\" Him eying me felt creepy, like I was being prodded and poked. \"In any case, we're here. And young man...\" The boat thudded as it hit the port. Erick and Bartley wasted no time in getting me out of the boat and away from the old man. \"Young man! Steel yourself for what is about to happen. And welcome! To-\" \n\nBefore he could finish, Erick pushed the boat away, making the old man stumble and grab hold of the boat as it drifted back into the mist. All I could hear was that eerie laughter echoing across the water. I wondered what the boatman was about to tell me. Why did he tell me to prepare myself for something that was to happen? What is this place? What did old man Jonathan want me to do here? \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You work in Hell's HR Department and need to hire a new Grim Reaper.	[ "They say HR is hell. That only those who were the most evil, wicked, and twisted beings can be in HR. Unfortunately (fortunately?) everyone who has ever done HR is sent to the lowest parts of hell. This means that in the higher parts of hell, where all the paperwork is done, we have to make those with venial sins into positions like HR.\n\nThen enters me, Jake the insurance fraud guy! Ever see the videos of guys throwing themselves from their motorcycle into someone's car? That's me! At least it was, until some damn redneck ran over me with his diseal powered monster (you will get what's coming to you, I'm thinking janitor for Cerberus).\n\nBut my revenge has to wait, as today I'm getting applications for the Grim Reaper! Granted these are forced applications, they have to fill some out or risk going lower into hell.\n\nSo sitting in front of me is Mr. Wick. A former layer, they also all go to hell.\n\n\"So Mr. Wick, why do you want to be a Grim Reaper huh?\" I said with a big happy smile.\n\n\"Well uhh, sir, I was a lawyer in my past life, as you can see in my resume. I played by the rules and I know how to follow new ones. I've already learned all of the requirements of being a Grim Reaper.\"\n\nI frowned, \"Well that last part might be true, Mr. Wick, but I can clearly tell you have lied in, oh, would you look at that!\" I exclaimed, \"Every single case you have lied! Lied! Lied! Lied!!!\"\n\nI laughed, \"It also seems you have exhausted your options Mr. Wick. It seems you will be going deeper into hell.\" I gave a devious smile as I pulled a lever.\n\nMr. Wick screamed as he fell through the trap door. Man I love my job.\n" ]	1
	[WP] It certainly wasn't your intention, but the results speak for themselves. You are officially the Most Wanted Person in the world.	[ "They call me the bandit... The straw* bandit. To put it simply, I sell straws on the black market. In the past I owned a straw business, but then California happened. It is more thrilling however, so I guess there's that. Anyway the police are still my door so I'm outtie. Gotta get my straw stash and run. " ]	1
	[WP] in a world where magic exists every technology is fueled by it. People who cannot use magic are looked down on. Write about a "cult" of non magic users. Who create advanced technology, to make up for the fact that they can't use magic.	[ "Here's my take on it. I'm going to deviate from your prompt somewhat:\n\nWelcome to the city of Arpolis, a land of cogs and magic. The west side of the city, Magis, is covered in grand, lavish palaces, with life powered by magic. This is the home of the Megion, those born with the ability to use magic. On the other side rests the Badlands, an industrial slum filled with factories and pollution. This is the home of the Sloth, those born without magic and those who rely on engineering and machinery to live.\n\nWhen a child is born, they are tested whether or not magical power resides in them. If they have magic, they are taken to the Megion and trained in magic. If no traces of magic is found in them, they are taken to the Sloth and trained to become an engineer. \n\nMe? I am Saine Raider, an engineer in the Badlands. My mother, a Sloth, told me that while she was on a trip in Magis, she had found me as a baby abandoned in a pile of garbage, clutching a mechanical device tightly. She took me to a priestess to be tested, and no traces of magic was found, but the priestess told my mother something peculiar: She sensed a force in me, a force that may save this city one day. My mother took me to the Badlands, and I was trained in engineering by my father, a master engineer and head of the Badlands.\n\nNow I spend my days working on the device my mother found me with. What it was supposed to do, I don't know, but I could tell by its intricate design that though it was incomplete, its completed form would be of great impact to this city. My father didn't support this, but when my mother passed, he stopped bothering me when I worked on the device.\n\nSo here I am, installing random gears and parts to this device when my only friend, Lunia Court Magis, walks in. She was the daughter of the royal family in Magis, but couldn't use magic well. I came to know her when I deactivated a rabid mech dog chasing her one day. She often came to the Badlands and visited my workshop, watching me as I worked on the mysterious device. She seemed so interested in my work, despite being threatened by a machine on our first encounter.\n\n\"Hello Saine, are you still working on that machine of yours?\"\n\n\"I am. It's such a confusing machine. Some parts seem to fit into certain slots perfectly, but do nothing to it. I'm getting a little frustrated.\"\n\nLunia chuckled lightly. Despite her position, she didn't look down on us Sloths. She was a very calm woman, a stark contrast to the uptight magicians of Magis. \n\n\"It's always fun to watch you work through trail and error. Though, if you're getting frustrated, perhaps it's time for a break?\"\n\n\"Not a bad idea, care to walk with me outside?\"\n\nI opened the door and went out. Lunia followed. The Badlands wasn't by any means a beautiful place. The metal buildings were brown and dented, the sky was gray, and the air quality was poor, but sometimes, it felt better to be out here than in that musty workshop. We take a stroll on the road.\n\n\"So, how is your father doing, Saine?\"\n\n\"The usual. He's out overseeing the operations of the local power plants, making sure the workers don't die or anything.\"\n\n\"He must be very hardworking. Back in Magis, we have a magic current that powers everything for us. It's convenient, but, in my opinion it's turned us quite lethargic. That's why I read a lot of magic books at the royal library. Even if I can't cast the spells well, it's still work.\"\n\n\"We don't have many books, but we do have engineering manuals. I know that they probably have no information about the device, but-\"\n\nOur conversation is suddenly derailed as we notice an autonomous car heading straight for us at high speeds. I grab Lunia's hand to pull her out of the way, but her heel is stuck in a metal grate. Lunia tries to cast a spell to move the car, but her cast fails. \n\n\"Saine, leave me. I can't move out of the way in time.\"\n\n\"No! I'm not going to leave you! I'll figure a way out of this!\"\n\n\"We don't have the time to do that Saine.\" \n\nShe's right, the car is approaching quickly, and we have no time to spare. Out of desperation, I thrust my hand forward, and somehow, a bolt of magic shoots from it and strikes the car, stopping it. We walk to a corner and calm ourselves down. That's when Lunia calmly asks me.\n\n\"Saine, was that magic?\"\n\nI don't know how to respond. All this time I was told that I was a Sloth, but suddenly I have the ability to use magic.\n\n\"I-I think so. Lunia, I want you to do something for me. Let's keep this as our secret.\"\n\nLunia stares at me for a little, then she gives me a light smile.\n\n\"Of course. I will always keep a secret for a friend.\"\n\nA ringing sound permeates the Badlands. It's now the evening.\n\n\"Ah, it's getting dark. I'll be heading on home now.\" Lunia begins to walk away, but she turns around and looks at me with a concerned facial expression. She turns her head back and walks back to Magis. I head back to my workshop, confused as I process what I just did. A Sloth found in Magis that couldn't use magic... but now? To get it off my mind, I work on the device until I fall asleep.\n\nThe next day my father wakes me. Strange, he never does that. I get up and look at him. He's wearing a full body suit, and has a large mechanical gun on his back. \n\n\"My son, it's time you looked away from that machine and follow me.\" He walks out of the house. I quickly dress and follow him. I am led to a factory, and I hear the voices of a crowd. Inside there are a bunch of Sloths, wearing similar suits and holding the same large mechanical gun that my father did. My father walks up to a podium, and starts to speak.\n\n\"MY PEOPLE, IT IS TIME THAT WE ARE NO LONGER LOOKED DOWN ON BY THE MEGION! IT IS TIME THAT WE SHOW THEM OUR ABILITIES! WITH OUR NEW BATTLE SUITS AND BLASTERS, WE WILL SHOW THOSE MAGIC SNOBS WHO IS MORE ADVANCED, AND WHO HAS WORKED HARDER TO REACH THE PINNACLE OF SOCIETY!\" The crowd cheers in response to my father's speech.\n\n\"TO START OUR WAR WITH MAGIS, WE MUST TRIGGER A RESPONSE! I HAVE HERE A TRESPASSER FROM MAGIS! SHE SHALL BE THEIR FIRST CASUALTY!\" My father ushers a Sloth to bring this \"trespasser\" on the podium. I can't believe who it is. It's Lunia. My father points his blaster to her and readies the trigger. \n\n\"NO!\" My body moves on its own and I teleport to the podium and blast my father's blaster to bits of dust. My father looks at me in shock.\n\n\"Saine, what is this? My son? A Megion?\"\n\n\"Father, this isn't right. I understand that the people of the Sloth feel wronged by the Megion, but a war, killing innocents, isn't what we should do!\"\n\n\"He's right.\" Lunia calmly responds. \"I am a the daughter of the ruling family of Magis, and I do not see a problem with the Sloth. We can solve this in a peaceful manner.\"\n\nMy father takes a second to process this situation. He points to me and says: \"Traitor.\" The Sloths in the crowd ready their guns at me and Lunia. My body once again moves on its own as I grab Lunia and warp us back to the workshop. \n\n\"Lunia, are you okay?\"\n\n\"I am fine. As I was coming here to visit you again, a group of Sloths surrounded me. I was captured and taken to that factory. Saine, they're going to wage war on Magis.\"\n\nWe hear my father's voice on the loudspeakers in town.\n\n\"MY SLOTHS! TODAY WE ADVANCE TO THE MAGIS BORDER AND WAGE WAR! LOOK OUT FOR MY SON, THE TRAITOR, AND THE GIRL OF THE RULING FAMILY OF MAGIS!\"\n\n\"Crap, not on my watch...\" I grab the device, still incomplete, and open the door. \n\n\"Lunia! We need to get to the Magis border!\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\nWe head outside. We can see tanks heading our way. We somehow need to get to the border before they do. Lunia chimes in with an idea.\n\n\"What if we teleport to the border? I know the chant to teleport us to the waypoint at the border, but I don't have the magical energy to use it. Saine, I need your power.\"\n\n\"You got it!\" I focus my arms on Lunia, and sure enough, magic energy flows from me to her. Lunia chants the spell, and right before a tank runs us over, we warp out of the way to the border between Magis and the Badlands. There are magicians there, readying themselves. It seems they heard rumors that the Sloths would attack them with their new technology. The head mage notices us.\n\n\"Hm? Lunia? Is that you? What are you doing with a Sloth!?\"\n\nI frantically tell the head mage about the situation. He laughs and says: \n\"Hahaha! We are prepared for this! We will take out their army with relative ease!\"\n\n\"That's not the idea! Are you trying to cause total destruction and casualties on both sides!?\"\n\n\"That doesn't matter! A few destroyed buildings is fair enough a cost for what we will teach them!\" \n\nI can't seem to get the point that total war being a bad idea through their heads. Then Lunia speaks.\n\n\"Mage general. I, Lunia Court Magis, daughter of the royal family, order you to lower your staves!\" I haven't seen her talk like this before. Lunia's usually talked with a calm demeanor, but now she's like a commander. Reluctantly, the mage general lowers his staff.\n\n\"So be it then.\" \n\n\"I have an idea.\" Lunia turns to me. \"Saine, that device of yours. Isn't there something you haven't tried on it?\"\n\nIt takes me a few seconds to realize what she's talking about. \"Magic! I've been trying too hard to tune this device with industrial parts. So what would happen if we infused it with a large amount of magic?\"" ]	1
	[WP] You and your partner left your jobs at a cleaning service to specialize in cleaning haunted houses. You are the Ghost Dusters, and these are you stories.	[ "“You do what?” \n\n“I clean haunted houses.” I said, with the same tone of voice that anyone might use when asked what they do for a living. I casually lifted my glass and sipped my beer as my date stared at me, wide-eyed, from across the table. I smiled coyly, gave her a moment to process, then continued. \n\n“It’s not all that different from cleaning regular houses. See, a few years ago, my partner Jake and I used to work for a cleaning service. But you know, it’s a little funny, even with all the gender equality stuff going on all the time nowadays, there’s a lot of stigma around being a guy that cleans houses. You’d be surprised how many of our clients had a problem with our gender for one reason or another.”\n\n“OK, but how do you get from there to haunted houses?” She seemed skeptical, but I was used to it. I’d had this conversation a lot in the past few years, including on several first dates just like this one. They were always skeptical at first.\n\n“I’ll get there,” I answered, giving that coy smile again. “So anyway, Jake and I are starting to get tired of the sexism, when our first haunted house came up. We get assigned this house and nobody tells us there’s anything funny about it, so it’s just business as usual until we actually get there. We pull up and it’s this massive old Victorian house, something straight out of an old cheesy horror flick. We didn’t think anything of it ‘til we met the owner, this creepy Vincent Price-looking dude. He meets us at the door, we say our hellos, then he says ‘Sorry the place is such a mess, it’s so hard to find cleaners willing to take on a haunted house.’”\n\nI paused for another sip of beer. My date was still incredulous, but I could tell she was hooked.\n\n“Go on,” she said. So I did.\n\n“Alright, so he says the house is haunted, but me and Jake, we don’t believe in any of that so we just kind of move on. We work out the details with Mr. Price and get to work. Nothing unusual, it’s dustier than most houses but that’s no big deal. We finish up, Vincent pays us—with a healthy tip—and we’re on our way.”\n\nHer face deflated at the anticlimax. “So the place wasn’t haunted?”\n\n“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “The old guy said it was, and that was enough to scare off dozens of other cleaners. That’s when Jake and I realized that we had an untapped market on our hands. And that’s how Ghost Dusters was born. See, there’s a surprising number of people out there looking for someone to clean their ‘haunted’ houses, and an even more surprising number of superstitious cleaners. So we get to charge more, we call it hazard pay, because nobody else will go near the house. There’s not enough houses in this area to support this full-time of course, but our hazard rates are enough to justify a little travel, so we’ve expanded and now we clean about sixty haunted houses a month, all over New England.”\n\n“Wow, that’s… something.” She wasn’t enthused. And understandably too, even I’ll admit it really was kind of a let-down of an explanation. But the hook was still coming.\n\n“That’s not to say none of the places really are haunted,” I said, with the same nonchalant tone of voice I had started with. She perked up. I continued, “We’ve seen some freaky stuff, some that can be explained and some that can’t. We’ve had lights flicker, doors randomly open or slam shut, even seen things move across the room while our backs were turned.”\n\n“Wow!” She said, sincerely this time. “That doesn’t freak you out?”\n\n“Once in a while something’ll give us a good jump, but so far nothing’s ever hurt us. So maybe we’re a little more inclined to believe in the paranormal now, but we’re not afraid of it.”\n\nI had her hook, line, and sinker now. I had a good feeling about where this date was heading, and not just because she liked my story. The conversation preceding it was fun, and I was just as hooked on her as I thought she was on me. But just then, I felt nature calling, so I excused myself and headed to the restroom. I relieved myself and was washing my hands when another man entered the room behind me.\n\n“Excuse me,” he said, looking at me in the mirror above the sink. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and was wondering if you’d be interested in cleaning a real haunted house.” He dragged out the word real, like I hadn’t heard the same pitch dozens of times before. But hey, that was the line of work I was in, wasn’t it? So I played along.\n\n“Sure, we’re always up for a challenge!” I said, feigning excitement and producing a business card from my wallet and handing it to him. “Give us a call during business hours on Monday and we’ll set something up.”\n\n“Excellent,” he said, in a manner reminiscent of Mr. Burns. “I look forward to working with you fine gentlemen.” He extended his arm for a handshake. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something unnerving about this man. I got the same feeling from him that I’d gotten when we had experienced some of the truly inexplicable things we’d seen in our work. I reached out and shook his hand in return. It was cold. I was thrown for a moment, and edged past him to exit the bathroom. I shook it off as the door closed behind me, and realized he hadn’t told me his name. I turned around and opened the door again.\n\n“Sorry, I don’t believe I caught your—” I stopped. \n\nThere was no one in the bathroom, and no other exits. I stood alone in the room, dumbfounded and staring at myself in the mirror. \n\nI think work is going to be very interesting on Monday, I thought. I smiled as I headed back toward my date.\n\nVery interesting indeed." ]	1
	[WP] You are a newly turned vampire. You're insatiable hunger causes you to go for easy kills, your friends, family, and other people close to you. Now your hunger has passed, and you are alone, filled with regret.	[ "My chest... What's wrong with my chest?\n\nMy eyes opened slowly, as the pain woke me up. It felt like the worst heartburn I had ever experienced, as if I had swallowed boiling water that my body wanted to expel through vomit while at the same time refusing to. \n\nIt's too bright.. Gah, I'm so thirsty..\n\nI clawed myself to my feet, stumbling towards our pool-bar. My parents was out of town for the weekend, but they were scheduled to be home pretty much any minute, and I had to look presentable by then. God knows I wouldn't want Dad to alter my multi-million trust fund by finding out I threw a huge house party on Friday. Saturday had been lonely, though, I had fallen asleep by the pool after drinking myself hammered, listening to audio books while the maids cleaned up after me and my friends.\n\nI downed an entire bottle of water, but still felt ravenously thirsty. Another went down, and then my body reacted - I hurled, vomiting all over the bar. \n\nThe fuck? I've never felt so hungover in my life..\n\nI felt an itch on my neck, one that scratching didn't quite satisfy, so I moisturized it with some after-sun products we stashed under the bar. \n\nI glanced up at the sky. It was grey, clouds everywhere, yet it radiated with a silver color at my eyes and I swore I could see the sun's outline through them, blasting my eyes. It hurt like a bitch.\n\nI wandered inside, looking for food. Perhaps I just need something, some sugar, my blood sugar must be low. \n\nAnd then I felt it, a delicious scent so sweet it would rival walking into the finest restaurant in New York. I heard a faint voice outside, and car doors closing. I could also faintly see a red aura through the walls, yet that had to be some hallucination from being out in the sun for too long. \n\nMy family poured through the front door, discovering me, pale as a ghost, my eyes squinted, still wearing my swimming shorts. My dad put down his suitcase and gave me a stern look, shaking his head in disappointment, heading straight upstairs without a word.\n\n\"Have you been drinking again?\" Mom asked, folding her arms across her chest.\n\n\"Yes... I have,\" I said, my nostrils still focused on the lovely scent. \"What's that smell?\"\n\n\"What smell?\" she asked, raising an eyebrow. \"The only smell I can feel is yours. You smell like bourbon, weed, and sickness. Did you vomit on yourself? Jesus christ, Jacob.\"\n\nMy mother had a faint, crimson glow around her, but something infinitely more red was still visible through the door. In came my sister, wearing a silky dress designed for the hot weather, an explosion of ruby colors visible just underneath her dress by her legs.\n\nAm I going insane?\n\n\"Look, Jacob. You were right, I nearly killed myself in these heels.\"\n\nShe gave me a cheeky grin and pulled up her dress, revealing a graze on her knee, dark red blood dried against her skin, some fresh blood still trickling down it. \n\nAnd as if hypnotized, I began walking towards her slowly without a word.\n\nWhy am I so drawn to this? I must look closer... This glow, it's so interesting - it feels like a connection to life itself... Did I take LSD last night? No, no, this is something else... something far more... interesting.\n\nI woke up to my mothers freaked out voice.\n\n\"Jacob, what the fuck are you doing!?\"\n\n\"Mom, get him off me!\"\n\nI felt my mothers sneakers collide with the side of my head, though it didn't hurt much at all. I briefly gained my senses, remembering I had just tried to reach for my sister's leg, tugging her open wound towards my mouth, drooling like a mad man. My mother called for dad, and he came rushing down.\n\nTheir voices were muted, as if background noise, as if I had a noise cancelling headset on me. Suddenly, time began to slow down.\n\nI saw my dads veins clearly, popping against his skin as he screamed at the top of his lungs. My mother shouting something about how I had finally lost it. My sister backing away from me in slow motion.\n\nThat crimson glow... I really must...\n\nI rose to my feet in real-time, sprinting towards my sister. Time was still slowed around me, as I grabbed a hold of her leg, sucking on the open wound.\n\nEach drop of blood on my tongue felt like an explosion of flavors, as well as incredibly nourishing - like I had just been injected with pure caffeine. I rose to my feet and realized my family's auras had all grown stronger, and I could just barely make out veins visible through their skin. I saw my sister's Aorta, connected to her heart, pulsating in rhythm. Without hesitation, I went for it, my teeth impaling her skin as if it was pure butter, cutting through flesh and tendons. \n\nMy teeth hit her aorta, and like a mosquito, I somehow sucked her body dry of every single drop of blood in what seemed like an eternity of a delicious feast, my strength increasing ten fold, hundred fold, during the process.\n\nBut my father hadn't even reached me yet, still approaching in slow motion. Suddenly, my sister collapsed to the floor, dead before she hit the ground, my father and mother trying to comprehend how I moved from one end of the room to another in the blink of an eye, staring at their dead daughter in disbelief, both utterly silent with their mouths agape.\n\n\"What the fuck did you do?\" My father whispered weakly, without the usual strength in his voice. I sensed his fear, a purple aura that made the hairs on my neck stand up. I tilted my head and looked over at my mother, who also radiated with this aura. I clenched my fist, taken over by some primal force - feeling my body absorb my sisters blood one cell at a time, empowering me more and more.\n\nAnd the more power I drew from it , the harder it became to resist the creature within me. I saw them clearly now, each vein, each organ that blood flowed to in their bodies.\n\nWhen I regained myself, my sense of consciousness, my head was clear as a whistle - though I had no memory of what happened before.\n\nAll I could remember was my sister dying as I absorbed her, but now my father and mother lied at my feet too, dry husks, corpses.\n\nI sensed the purple auras again, somehow knowing exactly where they were, how fast they were moving. They were the maids, the cooks, the servants, running in fear. I heard their cars start, their tires squeak against the pavement as they made a hasty exit, some on their phone with the police already.\n\nThis must be a dream... yet I know it's not.\n\nI closed my eyes, picturing the night before. I remember hearing a sound, and a shadow in the corner of my eyes. Before I could react, I woke up by the pool.\n\nWas I made? Who made me?\n\nAnother voice replied in my head, one I had never been familiar with. \"Your maker created you because of who you are..\"\n\nAnd who are you? Why are you in my head!?\n\n\"I am you... the new you.\"\n\nThen give me a straight answer... he made me because of who I am, what does that mean?\n\n\"You were made to murder your family, to frame you... to imprison you due to your mental health history... so that they may take over your family's business\"\n\nWho is taking over my family's business?\n\n\"None you know yet, but know this; vampires fear them, and are forced to work for them..\"\n\nVampire? Is that what I am?\n\n\"Time is short. You must leave. They will have you murdered in prison. They know the methods to kill even the undead.\"\n\nGive me more answers! Tell me what to do!\n\n\"You already know what to do... I am you... now get to work.\"\n\n\n\n " ]	1
	[WP] The sun is inhabited by intelligent, benevolent, and now spacefaring life. Their craft just touched down in California and now two brilliantly shinning ambassadors of the Sun are seeking out Earthlings, but with each step they take the wildfire they are causing, and oblivious of, spreads.	[ "I never knew that the end of the world would be my fault.\n\nAt first, the headline was that wildfire season had come two months early. That in itself had been enough to cause mild panic. We had been caught off guard, and there had been a mad scramble as we rushed to respond.\n\nIt was still within the job scope though. As firefighters, it was our job to fight the forces of nature, whether or not they had been unleashed by man. I make the previous statement, because the second headline that came out was that there was a mysterious group of arsonists somehow spreading wildfires across California.\n\nThe speculation had come about because the wildfires themselves had taken an erratic path. While normal wildfires raged at random and could be controlled using man-made techniques, this particular wildfire was strange. It had started in the middle of nowhere, and then made a straight beeline for the closest town.\n\nThe inhabitants of the small town had evacuated the moment they had seen the looming plumes of smoke in the distance, and by the time the wildfire had reach the town, all it had consumed were empty buildings and abandoned cars.\n\nAnd then it started to make its way to the next town.\n\nThree towns later, despite our best efforts, the upper brass had finally been forced to conclude that we couldn’t treat this like we would a normal wildfire. Fire lines would not contain it, air drops of water would not slow it down. There was something in control of it.\n\nThus, the order had been given, requesting for volunteers to form a firefighting team that would attempt to pierce and suppress the source of the wildfire itself. It would be a dangerous job, one that defied all regulations. But we were desperate. And desperate humans did stupid things.\n\nSo, an eighty man team had been formed, assigned twenty fire engines and given as much air support as possible. And we ventured into the blazing inferno, determined to extinguish the source of all this destruction.\n\nThe brass had determined that there was a centre mass of something carrying the wildfire forward. It moved slowly, and the flames that spread out from it reached up to two kilometres away, meaning that we’d have to fight through two kilometres of raging flames, smoke and ash.\n\nEven in our firefighting gear the flames were ridiculously hot, and above us, a steady stream of planes flew in and out every few minutes to drop a couple thousand galleons of water around and on us.\n\nIt was torturously slow going. Every inch of the way we faced some new kind of danger. One of the truck’s engines blew out from the great amount of heat and threatened to explode. We were unable to retreat, because all the planes’ water was being used just to keep us alive. Behind us, the flames had long reignited.\n\nThirteen of our firefighters’ breathing gear gave out and they died of asphyxiation soon after. We lost another six trying to regain the fire engines whose drivers had died. But we had come to far to go back with nothing. The price had already been paid, and we would continue to grimly pay it. That’s why we had volunteered in the first place. We pressed on.\n\nClose to the source, the heat was almost visible, warping the air and evaporating the water the planes threw at us almost frighteningly fast. Some of the men panicked and tried to return, but the majority of us refused, determined to at least identify the source of all this.\n\nWithout our support, nor those of the planes, they had been forced to come alongside us, albeit very reluctantly.\n\nFinally, we burst through a wall of smoke and flames. And were almost knocked over by a violent wave of heat. Even inside the fire engine, I felt as if my own eyes were going to melt. And I knew that if I exited the vehicle, it would be minutes before I died.\n\nWe had entered a sudden clearing, where even the flames and smoke couldn’t touch, buffeted by the waves of heats emanating from the centre.\n\nThere, two great white pillars of light. At least, that was how I could best describe it. They had no shape, nor form that made sense to the human perception. No limbs with which to signal, or mouth with which to talk.\n\nIt didn’t physically hurt to stare at them, their glow dulled the moment I looked straight at them, but my head ached whenever I did, as if my mind was struggling, just on the precipice of fully understanding them.\n\nIt was almost hypnotic, and I could feel the entire team hold their collective breaths as the two figures of light floated closer, reaching the leftmost engine. One of the figures tentatively reached out, a beam of light elongated from its body.\n\nThe moment it touched the fire engine, it burst into flames.\n\nThe sight of melting metal, alongside the inhuman shrieks of the men who were consumed jolted me awake.\n\n“Take them out, go go go!” I screamed into the radio, galvanising the team into action.\n\nThese fire engines were state-of-the-art, next-gen beasts. I didn’t even have to leave the cabin, all I had to do was control the hose from inside the fire engine. My hands flew over the console, and I watched a large jet of water fly and then dose the two beings.\n\nImmediately the pain in my head intensified, as the two pillars of light elongated, in what I assumed was a clear sign of pain. It clearly encouraged the rest of the team, because before we had half a dozen streams of water blasting these creatures in the face.\n\nYou could hear the whoops and cheers of men across the radio, and already the heat outside was clearly fading away. Overhead, the planes kept us safe from the surrounding fires while we killed the monsters.\n\nI winced. I hadn’t taken my eyes off them since I had started dousing them with water, determined to not let them escape. But now the ringing in my head had grown incessant… almost as if…\n\nIt took place within the space of a second. A second before their deaths. A second before our understanding.\n\nSuddenly, I knew what these beings were. Where they from. Why they were here. Benevolent and intelligent space faring beings from the Sun who had come to share and break bread with their neighbours.\n\nIt was already too late for me to stop what I now knew was I murder. And we mourned, for now they knew that their existence was poison to life on Earth and that they had in fact killed a great number of plants, animals and people.\n\nBut their grief was greater than mine. And I knew why. There had been a great debate between their people on the Sun, between the peaceful majority and a small but growing minority as to whether or not they should have come to us as friends. After all, they were much greater than we were, were they not? More advanced, cultured and better in every way.\n\nBut after decades of debate and even three civil wars, the decision had been made to come in peace.\n\nTheir greatest champions of peace had come with glad tidings and gifts.\n\nBut all they had brought was death, and the now inevitable promise of war. For our peoples had seen. We had seen how they had seemingly callously set our country aflame and taken the lives of our people without even attempting communication. And they had seen us essentially shoot them in the face after attempting to say hello.\n\nThey grieved for us, for their peoples would declare war, and they knew that we were hopelessly outgunned.\n\nAs the two beings spluttered out of existence beneath the hot afternoon Sun, for a second or two, the day seemed brighter, the light more intense.\n\nWar was coming, and the end of the world would be my fault.", "Solarians are a peaceful race. They only wish to help.\n\nThey brought science and religion, technology and art. They came to share their bounty. This was in their nature, for their home was the giver of life. For eons they had watched as Earth-life bloomed. Now there were others with whom to share their gifts.\n\nNo one knows why they landed near Middleton. Perhaps it was fear. No human had seen a Solarian before. Who knew what the reaction might be?\n\nNo one will ever know. Solarians are beings of complex plasma, and by their heat they burned all that they touched. The updraft fanned the flames, the fires spread until the sun was smoke-shroud red and dismal, and all the air was dingy-brown with death. \n\nNo human saw them, but they saw the fire. They saw advancing walls of snakelike flame, and heard the dull explosions in the distance, as propane tanks were ruptured by the heat. They breathed the smoke, and ran or drove, and clogged the roads with panic. From Santa Rosa up to Cloverdale and east to Clearlake, the exodus poured forth. The flames devoured trees and cars and homes, and melted valuables to jet black slag, and left the scent of death upon the air. \n\nThe Sun-beings watched in horror. They had not meant to harm the fragile things that called this place their home. And so they left the flame-scorched Earth behind.\n\nWhat little they learned, they learned from human broadcasts. They heard stories of fires that could not be controlled, of climate change and flooding, nightmare storms, and all the other fruits of human progress.\n\nThey were not sad, for that is not their nature. The humans were their children, born in sunlight – and as their children they had gone astray.\n\nAnd once at home, they told what they had learned. The Earthlings had progressed too far too fast, beyond the limits of their intellect. Their progress trapped them, locked them on a path that led them to a worldwide destruction. They spoke of cities grown too large, and sun-parched fields and climate devastation. The humans were destroying their only home. \n\nThe answer was as simple as could be. \n\nWithout machines they could return to their more stable state – a state that ebbs and flows with passing seasons, and reckons time by harvest, hunt, and fast. This was their way before, and they had prospered. And so, the sun-beings worked to set things right.\n\nThe sent a solar flare, and then another. It was their gift, their way to make amends. \n\nThe Earth went dark. And mankind wept and shrieked across the globe, stripped of the power that had made them Gods. And men went mad and blood and chaos reigned, as the auroras danced across the sky to meet at last upon the wide equator. And in that mocking light they were reborn, a chastened people dragged back from the brink. \n\nSolarians are a peaceful race. They only wish to help." ]	2
Inspired by u/sdip2k1's [Shower thought](https://www.reddit.com/r/Showerthoughts/comments/966uat/on_the_way_to_hospital_with_a_pregnant_wife_you/).	[WP] On the way to hospital with a pregnant wife, you drive faster than you ever have. On the way back, you drive slower than you ever have	[ "The Kia Sedona was pushing 70- no- 75 miles an hour down highway 112. God, I don't think I've ever driven this fast, and in snow no less. I was usually a much more cautious driver. But as I heard Dana's cries of pain from the backseat, I knew time was of the essence.\n\nI peered back at my pregnant wife in the rearview mirror. Her contractions were already 5 minutes apart. Her sister, Kit, sat beside her, calming her and reminding her to breath.\n\nMy full attention was now on the exit ramp to the hospital, fast approaching. I pressed the break until the car slowed to 42 - still above the ramp's limit of 30. After another mile, I sped into the hospital parking lot, turning as gently as I could at such a speed. I hastily gave the keys to Kit and told her to park the van as we entered the hospital.\n\n4 hours later, Dana finally gave birth to our son: Iain Donovan Saunders. It came time to leave the hospital. Kit drove the Kia Sedona back to the hospital, having spent the night at our house.\n\nDana fell asleep in the backseat. Kit held Iain as he also fell asleep in her arms. As I looked ahead I noticed it started snowing along highway 112; the first snowstorm of the year. Immediately I took the next exit and drove on the backroads to our house.\n\nI drove slower that day than i have in my whole life. As I saw the snow fall around us, Iain asleep in his aunt's arms, and Dana taking much deserved nap, it hit me how idyllic that moment was. One that I'll cherish for the rest of my life. \n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\nI couldn't really draw from experience since I've yet to have kids. But feedback is appreciated.", "I drove faster than I ever have, the speedometer reaching 80, 90, then 100 followed by 110. Why had Amie insisted on a hospital 60 miles from home? The car seemed to top out at 135. Amie's whimpers became a full-on scream out of pain as another contraction passed. I gave her my hand to squeeze as often as I could but between her nearly breaking my hand every time and needing both hands to drive while going this speed it wasn't easy to be there for her. \n\nBy the time we reached the hospital amie's contractions were barely 3 minutes apart, and she was in worse shape. Her face was pale, and she was shaking. I'm not sure if it was out of fear or pain but it pained me to see her this way.\n\nLeaving the hospital a couple days later, I drove slower than I ever have. Amie sat quietly in the passenger seat not saying a word. There were no words to be spoken.\n\n The carseat I had installed in the back seat sat empty.\n\nAmie sat with a small box the size of a shoe box on her lap. \n\nMy mother us called on the way home. I answered, but didnt say anything. \"Jason, do you want me to meet you at the funeral home?\"\n\nTears that I'd been holding back welled up in my eyes. I didnt say anything. I just hung up and kept driving. The trip home was the slowest trip of my life." ]	2
	[WP] There is fire surrounding you. When the fire dies out you notice you are standing in front of a demon. They have summoned you, a human.	[ "\"WOA!\" I lept up from all fours. After landing on the floorboards with my balance in tact, I squinted through my unprepared eyes; through candle induced light blindness to confirm my brain's interpretation of what I saw. Unfortunately, my brain was correct. In my midst gaped some of the most crimson-grey \"people\" I had ever encountered. I'm certain one of them had landed flat on their ass, rather than decided that such uncomfortable-looking position was desired.\n\n'Then again, how should I know?! I don't have a fucking tail!'\n\nSureal doesnt describe it. One moment you're walking down the street to class, coughing away the musk of a ghost's cigar, and the next, you're pierced by the stares of cobblestone walls and what I can only assume to be its agasp personas.\n\nEach of them was a bit unique. Their skin tone ranged from light gunpoweder to spilt blood, with a thin shine of sweat. All three of them had obsidion hair atop their heads, but it was styled differently for each, with the longest hair belonging to the \"man\" in the middle. His locks put the \"woman's\" moppy bangs to shame. There was competition to his left, however: A short, horse's main graced the otherwise smooth cranium of the seated \"man\". It allowed his plateaued horns to be boasted. They looked shaven and...perhapse polished as well? It was hard to tell with his legs and arm obscuring his semblance.\n\nHad this been a cartoon, I would say that their eyes widened comically so. Eyebrows were not required to present such abundant surprise. The girl's stare was darker than her hair; hell, even darker than her oilfield eyes. Her leg ebbed her weight far behind her intrigue. Her fangs needed space to think, leaving her tongue to wince at the sight of me.\n\n\"It worked!\" The only excited one of the three was in the middle, and even he had an air of caution to him. \n\n(Unfinished)", "\"...and that was Baba O'Riley by The Who. Thanks for tuning in to 108.8, WGR8, \"The Great\", playing the greatest rock'n'roll from the 70s to today.\"\n\nI could barely hear the radio as it was, but out here on these narrow dirt roads, splashing through giant puddles of mud and skidding around corners on my soft 33-inch trail tires, it was hardly more than a buzz in the background. Though, obviously, I had pulled over to do air piano in the intro, standing on my driver's seat and headbanging while I pretended to somehow play drums while doing keyboard. It's just un-American not to.\n\nBut now I was cruising down the dirt road, the roar of my tires compressing and popping back hurling me on like the sound of a battle close behind me. The fresh air and late-morning sunlight combined with the sap and floral scents of the trail to make for a wonderful perfume, custom made just for me out here in the middle of nowhere on a lazy weekend.\n\nI took a corner a tiny bit too quickly and immediately discovered why beadlocks are a thing as the front driver's-side tire came off the wheel in a shuddering bang. The Jeep pulled hard, so hard, and my counter-steer became oversteer and at about 60 mph I sailed sideways off the trail, rolling in the air as I fell down the mountain slope. My three-point harness held me fast as I hit the ground and went into a whirling spin that threw blood into my head. I blacked out.\n\nI came to what must have been only a few seconds later, still rocking slightly as my suspension bled out the kinetic energy of the roll and stop. The engine compartment was on fire, flames licking up around the hood at the fractured windshield, and there was more fire behind me - the fuel tank must have ruptured badly during the roll. I struggled to disengage the harness but the buckle was stuck fast. The flames grew closer and closer, the heat becoming intolerable, and I began to panic, tugging desperately at the unmoving harness, hammering on the buckle with the heel of my palm. Fire crept past the windshield in front of me, and began to lick the back of my seat behind me. I closed my eyes as my brain abandoned all rational thought, becoming as a wild animal trapped in a firestorm. I screamed, and screamed, and screamed...\n\n...and my eyes snapped open as the flames withered around me. Before me, barely taller than my knee, was a red-skinned creature, vaguely humanoid, with tiny horns on its fat, round face, and comically baby-like fingers splayed wide, arms thrown out in front of it, like a scene from an old silent movie where someone tries to catch a falling couch.\n\n\"I am Rattlebone, mortal! I have summoned you to do my bidding! Fear my mighty sorcerous power!\"\n\nI looked around, terribly confused. \"Uh, excuse me? You wh- wait. Am I dead? Is this Hell? Am I dead and in Hell?\" I began to panic anew.\n\n\"You are not dead yet, feeble human, but you are right to fear! Displease me and I will make you suffer in ways you cannot imagine! Now bow before your summoner and master, to show your readiness to serve!\"\n\nI looked down at this Rattlebone character, and saw that shining empty light of zealots and fools clear in its eyes. \"Look, Rat, I don't know how to tell you this, but you can't just go around yelling at people like that. It's not going to get you anywhere. You need - hey! OW! Stop that!\"\n\nRattlebone had produced a tiny trident which he effortlessly wielded in one hand, poking me in the shin with it. It was nearly as painful, and nearly as effective, as prodding someone firmly with a fork.\n\n\"I warned you, human! I will plague you with these agonies for all time if you will not obey me!\"\n\nI hopped backward, out of his reach, and as he waddled toward me (truly, with all the grace of a toddler navigating a gravel path) I reached down and swatted the trident out of his strawberry-colored hand. He looked at me with the incredulous lack of comprehension of someone hearing a dog comment in English on the social policies of Victorian-era Austria. He snapped his tiny fingers, surprisingly loud, and the trident flew back into his pudgy hand.\n\n\"I can fight you for eons, little human! Savor your victory, gained in such a deceitful display of unsportsmanship, for it will be your last! Hiyee!\" And he set about stabbing me in the foot and shin with even greater gusto. Since it wasn't really painful, I decided to let him wear himself out a little. My thick canvas pants and steel-toed work boots were absorbing the vast majority of his assault. Finally, he paused, panting slightly. \"Are you prepared to surrender, mortal?\"\n\nI nodded. \"Yup, sure am. What, uh, what do you need me to do?\"\n\n\"That depends. Are you a male or female of your species?\"\n\nI was briefly taken aback, but to be fair it was probably a reasonable question. Then I pondered why he would need that particular bit of information, and grew suddenly wary. \"Why do you need to know? Does it matter?\"\n\n\"I suppose not! Fine. I require your assistance in mortal combat against my ancient foe, Cindersnap, the Archmage of Fire. He will be here momentarily! Prepare yourself. You must distract him while I attempt to strike him down unawares\" \n\nIn a puff of smoke, a nearly-black imp of similar stature appeared, sparks trailing from its hands as it spoke something in a language which seemed to boil the very air around us. A flash of light arced through the space between us and, before I could react, struck me in the chest, bursting with the force of a bottle rocket. I coughed through the tiny cloud of acrid smoke, brushing at the impact point, and yelled my battle cry." ]	2
	[WP]You and your friends decide to do something fun by visiting the old, decrepit, abandoned mansion. You hide in the closet of the bedroom, hoping to scare your friends. Time passes, you get bored and finally come out. Your friends are gone and the mansion looks brand new. The master has returned.	[ "I stepped from the closet, casting my gaze about. Things were different, in a bad-internet-story kind of way. The faded red velvet was a blazing crimson, the busted four-poster was pristine, it's shredded lace curtains whole and creamy white. The walls were smooth and whole, covered in a dark purple paint that wasn't stained with decades of dust and animal refuse. I heard steps then, a quiet step-step-tap that echoed in the oppressive silence. I ducked back in, scared for my life. After all, I had just stumbled into some X-Files level shit.\n\n\"Is anyone up here, I wonder?\" The voice was a deep base, melodious and full of mirth. He sounded like a man playing hide-and-seek with his kids more than someone looking for intruders. Through the slats in the angled boards I watched carefully - the room remained empty, even as I heard that infernal tapping right in front of me. \"No?\" the voice said again. It sighed. \"Then I guess your friend's souls are forfeit.\"\n\n\"Wait!\" I burst from my hiding place, \"What do you mean?\" As I emerged I slammed into an unseen wall of force, rebounding onto the floor. I looked up into nothingness, which coalesced into a smiling young man, but with a few differences. His skin was sallow and unhealthy, like he had never seen the sun. His eyes were prismatic, shattered into a hundred colors. He wore a dark blue tabard, almost black like his breeches and knee-high boots. The most striking thing about his body, though, was the cat ears and tail poking out. They were a strange dark color, ever shifting between black, navy blue, and deep purple in the most subtle of lights.\n\nHis thin mouth split into a wan smile, cold and unforgiving. His voice was the same buttery-smooth one from before. \"Why, only what I meant, of course. Why would it be any different?\" I stood slowly, enraptured by the being. \"Ah-ah-ah, don't get up too quickly now, you might hurt yourself. Allow me.\" He picked me up in a smooth motion, his thin frame belying titanic strength. \"Now, little lady,\" he said to me over his shoulder, \"Shall you meet the others?\" I couldn't refuse.\n\n---\n\n>What is this furry SHIT! \n\nI thought to myself as I was carried like a sack of flour down stairs that no longer had holes and missing steps, the balustrade a gleaming ivory and the carpet a rich plum. Really likes his reds and purples, this guy. Upon the marble floor, cracks filled in and polished to an opalescent gleam, sat three figures on their knees: wearing blindfolds (you know, those airplane kind?) and tied to each other hand-and-foot. One of them was covered in scratches and bruises - that would be Tommy in his trademark blue blazer and jeans, always the fighter. The man, who I could only guess was a servant or even the owner of the place, threw me down on the hard, cold stone next to them. \n\n\"Now, we're all together at last. Very good.\"\n\n\"Cheryl, is that you?\" whispered Tommy. \n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"NO TALKING.\" The owner's voice magnified - it was still calm and in charge, but blasted up to eleven. \"Now, we shall proceed with the festivities. Ladies?\" he clapped, and a dozen people emerged from the shadows. They were women clad in expensive cuts of cloth, cut like togas or robes of a sort. They hauled us to our feet, then tied me with silken cord to the others. The servants moved robotically, ever assured in their movements and making no mistakes or wasting time. As one, we were lowered back to the floor and a silky blindfold was put over my eyes.\n\n\"Excellent.\" I heard a girl whisper - Heidi, sarcastic to the last. \"Just perfect, now we're all gonna die.\"\n\n\"NO TALKING. This way, please.\" We were dragged across impossibly level stone, then on to plush carpets, no longer stained with eons, or yellowed and matted by age. Doors opened and closed, and the floor changed from carpet to wood to stone and back again. We hit stairs, carried down by the women who themselves owned a brutal strength. \n\n---\n\nWe were set on some kind of raised platform, feet hanging off into space. The blindfolds were removed to reveal a most horrifying sight.\n\nSkeletons. Everywhere. Covered in spiderwebs, and those webs filled with their despicable owners of a dozen colors and a sea of black ones. We were on a raised dais, each one of us suspended over a round, ovoid pocket in the hard black stone by the bindings, which were too tight. We were cut free from our bonds and allowed to fall in, then we were stuck. I'm serious, I could no longer move my body, my mouth caught in a half-applied scream. The ceiling was covered in more webs, between the legs of a massive obsidian spider statue, poised to drop. Though it was dead, stone, the bright light from electric lamps brought an eerie life to the eyes.\n\n\"And the Spider said to us, 'Let the people know Me by My children, the Legions I have given unto you to protect you and keep you from the dark places. Let you stay in the light, ever mindful of pleasures of the mortal realms.\" Then the spider dropped, and I knew no more." ]	1
	[WP] Your grandmother promised that she would always be there to read you a bedtime story, but she unexpectedly died when you were 8 years old. It's been over a decade now and you've decided to call in that promise.	[ "Grandma? Please. I need you. You promised- remember? You promised you’d always read a bedtime story to me. Please…\n\nI’m sorry, Grandma. I’m sorry I forgot. When you died, I remember Aunt Kay said that the lessons you taught and your loving, believing, cheerful heart would be a guiding star for all our lives. And I spent hours alone, pretending you were still there with me.\n\nI know it must have rained- sometime-but I can only think of you walking surrounded by warm light. You made strawberry jam and cookies and both tasted sweeter because of the understanding that you made them for me, specially. I’d reread certain children’s books, hearing your voice, and sometimes I could almost convince myself that I smelled your violet perfume and could feel the warmth your arms around me. I spent so many nights, curled in your lap, listening to you read to me. It was so comforting, and so heartbreaking. I learned to force myself not to remember. \n\nDid Dad start drinking before you died? I don’t remember, but it got worse after. And then Mom changed, became angry and unhappy. We moved after the divorce and I couldn’t bike past your house anymore. The people who bought it were changing it anyway. I stayed away from both Mom and Dad as much as possible. I made friends. We were always up to something- Mom didn’t like that, or them. \n\nGrandma, you told me about Heaven and how good people go there and can look over those of us who were still on earth. I was trying so hard to have a good time and it seemed so hard to do. Sex left me empty and ashamed. Pot made me tense instead of happy. One trip, I remember hoping you weren’t watching and terrified that you weren’t. Why did you leave me? I was alone! No one else’s embrace made me feel loved- only the memory of yours. \n\nI don’t think I meant to kill myself. I don’t remember. I’ve been drinking all day and I’m so tired and I didn’t know what else to do. Mom will be so upset and I’ll feel guilty always. I’m sorry. I’m sorry- I just wanted… Please, Grandma. Read me a story. I just don’t want to be alone. Please be there when I die. Don’t let me be alone. \n" ]	1
	[WP] If physics was replaced with Bethesda's engine	[ "Everything started off normally. The great rapture wasn’t all that bad. People still danced, sung and just enjoyed life. But one day when they hit four-hundred-eight hours into the event something horrifying happened. \n\nThe engine started to glitch. People at first didn’t know why it was happening. Why people morphed and feel through the floor. People didn’t know why they would do one task and be set back to another world. People only know that it created painful, horrifying monsters. No one knew what to do. \n\nThan they figured it out. People often wondered how but in truth it was because of all the weird glitches. They said it was a way they added a logo to the engine but everyone knew the truth. There was no denying it. They could only try to help. \n\nThis is how they did that. \n\nNo one knew what engine it ran on, so the “Bee” hired everyone they could to go through and fix every engine. No one knew if it would help but they had to try. \n\n_____________________________________________\n\n> Hey I’m Jake and don’t usually write these. Maybe a part two will come. Thanks", "The sirens. I miss the sirens. They are less frequent now, if they happen at all. Hiding seems to be all people can do when the refuse took to the sky. Anything not nailed down could, at any time, chaotically take flight and spread like dust in the wind. Mass means nothing anymore, the world is being destroyed by its own lack of consistency. Some people didn't even notice the changes initially, till they were stuck, unable to move forward or back in doorways. Seemingly for no reason, even with help they couldn't progress. I never saw it, but some would have horrific things happen to them if they were too close to a wall. The worst I've seen were the invisible barriors. They exist in the edges of towns or just outside old buildings. Some could simply touch the barrior and it felt like touching a sheet of unbreakable warm glass. Others found that they would touch and their bodies would become contorted. I saw my neighbor's arms twist and break, protruding from her chest as her legs song upward backwards from the knee. She just floated there. She didn't even feel it. Poor soul. As we ran, some were stuck in place trying to escape, but couldn't move, not from any kind of barriors, they just seemed to have lost traction and began to sink into the earth, like they were water through a strainer, without a trace they just slipped into the ground. I miss the sirens.\n\nThe sirens. They let me know the world was still real. I haven't seen it for days. I've been in this room, watching my cat frictionlessly walking in the same spot. Every so often I sleep, only to wake and everything in the room not nailed down has raised up 6 inches and all comes crashing down. Nothing is on shelves anymore. There is no organization to the mess, just the occasional slamming and the odd pair of pants or cup falling and sporadically ricocheting, seemingly randomly. The drywall is ruined.\n\nI will die soon and I'll embrace the death. The flying objects don't bother me anymore. The flames outside can't seem to go out nor spread, so I know I will eventually starve. I'm still not sure how I'm alive right now to tell this story. I woke up yesterday and as I tried to get out of bed, I found myself standing inside of the bed. Not on it, mind you, but inside of it. My feet are cold, so I imagine they are hanging from the ceiling downstairs, or maybe in the hollow of the floor. I can't tell, but I know my thighs are in the bed frame. I wish that they had just been severed so I could simply bleed out, but somehow I simultaneously exist inside of the frame and the frame exists within me. I haven't been able to move. I want to die. \n\nThere's a gun in my side table. The rattling of something on the other side of the wall, endlessly spinning in place, tearing chunks out of my floor has pushed me over the edge. I'd like to simply end it, but I'm afrade that with what has happened to this world, I don't know that I can. Last night I held the barrel firmly pressed against my temple, simply ready to end my existence. I couldn't take it anymore. I'm sure my family is dead, or contorted or stuck like me and I can't even imagine it. I squeezed. Click. Bang. My hearing is ruined now, but the bullet simply didn't touch me. It did manage to put another hole in the drywall to my left. Nothing makes any sense anymore. I put the gun back into the side table. The drywall is ruined. \n" ]	2
	[WP]One day you wake up with a third eye between your eyes, but no one else can see it. This third allows you to see certain things.	[ "The familiar sounds of crashing waves and blaring ship-horns rang out as Naomi's hand instinctively shot out towards her phone. Just fifteen more minutes, she thought, but she knew the second alarm meant it was time. \n\nShe managed to shower and get partially dressed before she finally saw it: a small eye, oddly wide and distorted, sat between her two normal ones. She brought her finger to it and realized, to her disappointment, that it wasn't just a drawing or a prop but was, in fact, real. But oddly enough, she couldn't see through it. What good's a third eye if I can't even see through it?, Naomi thought.\n\nAfter finishing up getting ready, Naomi decided the sane thing to do was to book an appointment with her doctor later on in the morning. She went downstairs and was quietly eating some toast in front of the TV when her roommate, Jen, came home from her morning jog.\n\n“Not left yet?” Jen asked. Naomi was usually en route to work by the time Jen came back in. Naomi let her hair cover up her face to hide her third eye, but knew she couldn't do so for long.\n\n“No, weird morning. Okay, promise not to freak out?” said Naomi, and didn't leave her friend time to answer before she turned towards her, pushing her hair back to reveal it.\n\n“Ahhh! But seriously, what am I supposed to be freaking out about? If it's a zit, you covered it up fine,” said Jen.\n\nAnd that's when Naomi noticed it. Hovering just above Jen's head was a small black number: 14879:21:05:42. The number on the far-right column was seemingly changing, counting down. \n\n“I...th-...you can't see it? Between my eyes?” asked Naomi, still fixed on the number over her friend's head.\n\nJen came closer to inspect Naomi's face. “I don't see anything. What's supposed to be there?”\n\nNaomi reached out to try and touch the number but her hand passed right through it, and she finished the movement by slightly stroking Jen's hair, prompting a quizzical look from her roommate. She noticed the number in the second to last column changed from 05 to 04, and the number in the last column reset to 60 and continued to count down. “Nothing, don't worry about it. I think I didn't sleep enough is all. I should head off to work, I'm late enough as it is.”\n\nShe finished up her toast, grabbed her stuff, and headed out the door. Jen couldn't see it... but what did that mean? It certainly felt real, but could she be imagining it, like the number? \n\nNaomi managed to reach the stop just as her bus appeared. She got on, flashed her monthly pass, and took her seat. And there they were: more numbers. There were only six other people on the bus, but they all had similar-looking numbers over their head. She tried to keep her mind on other things during the 10-minute ride, but it was no use. She hopped off and hurriedly made her way towards the subway station.\n\nHer mind was racing, so much so that her body followed the pace in stride. What are those numbers? And how come not a single person, on the bus or on the street, seemed to notice she had grown a third eye? \n\nNaomi was so lost in thought that she ran into a kid. He stumbled back a few steps, his orange backpack sliding across the floor. He quickly gave a shy apology as he grabbed his backpack and continued on. Naomi looked up to apologize in return but lost her words. The kid's number over his head read 00000:00:09:12.\n\n“Hey! Kid!” Naomi tried to call out, but her voice was drowned out in the bustle of the city. She hurried forward; she could still just about make him out. A small panic started to set in as she suddenly had her suspicions of what the numbers meant, though she wanted nothing more than to be proved wrong. \n\nAfter a few turns, she managed to close the distance, but was still too far for him to hear her. Up ahead was the subway station, and the kid started making his way down the concrete steps. He was probably a student at Chilton High, about three stations away, Naomi thought. \n\nNaomi reached the steps and raced down. She lost the kid. The panic increased as she desperately tried to find him among the crowd. Finally, she spotted the orange backpack a few yards to her right. She could see the number again as it read 00000:00:01:37 She ran towards him and just as she called out for him again, the sound of the approaching subway rendered her cries futile. \n\nThe kid hopped on the subway. Naomi pushed her way past the sea of people in front of her to reach the subway in time, the panic now gripping her tightly. Just as the doors were closing, Naomi managed to slide her foot to force them back open. In she went.\n\nAgain, she lost sight of the kid. He must have moved to a different subway car. She rushed through the next three cars before finally spotting him. Only a few feet away, he was looking at her, seemingly not recognizing her from the earlier encounter. He looked terrified, all signs of color having left his face. Like a scared child might hold his stuffed bear, he was clutching his backpack tightly for comfort. The number over his head read 00000:00:00:08.\n\nAnd then Naomi looked up. The subway, though not completely packed, was full enough that many people had to stand up. And every single passenger had the same number over their heads as the kid, now reading 00000:00:00:04.\n\nAs Naomi looked at the numbers, and then at the kid and his orange backpack, understanding flooded her. She ran forward and lunged towards the kid, towards the backpack, and tackled him just as the numbers reached 00000:00:00:00, her last thought pleading to whoever gave her the third eye for the numbers around her to change. " ]	1
	[WP]]After death, you find yourself in a long queue waiting to jump into one of the two pits. Each had something written on its entry. one pit had the word 'Life' and the other pit had gibberish. To your surprise many were already jumping into the other pit. Now it's your turn to jump.	[ "I chose the life pit, and the next thing I knew, I was being birthed from a woman screaming in pain, which scared me a great deal, I involuntarily started crying, which everyone else in the delivery room seemed happy about. I seemed to keep all the knowledge from my previous life, which was frustrating since, because I was a baby again, I didn’t have the ability to talk yet. \n\nWhen I was around 8 or 9 and could talk fluently enough to form a train of thought, I tried to explain what I knew about the afterlife, or even that I had memories of a previous life, but every time I tried, I became tongue tied or just couldn’t speak, or wasn’t taken seriously. This continued throughout my life, I couldn’t write it down, or if I managed to, people wouldn’t see the words I was sure I wrote, the words I saw. They’d see a poem I’d never seen or thought of, or a nonsensical story. I went to several therapists and called various help lines, hoping they’d convince me I was crazy, but the memories were too vivid. When I was able, I travelled back to my previous hometown, saw the graves of all my old friends and even family. Déjà vu didn’t even begin to cover it. Another thing that followed me throughout my new life was a burning question; what did the other pit lead to? The gatekeepers in limbo never said anything, plenty of people asked but just received blank stares in return, despite this, nearly everyone chose that other pit. The unreadable pit. The mystery pit. I liked my previous life and I liked this one even more, being born into an affluent family definitely had its advantages, death was the one thing I dreaded for all 95 years of my last life, but that didn’t have to be the end, you could have another life and why wouldn’t you want one? The only way you wouldn’t want another life, was if you knew that the only other option lead to something better, right? But how could those choosing that pit know? The sign was unreadable, and “life” was pretty self explanatory. Nevertheless the curiosity ate away at me. I became an expert on religion and devoted my new life to studying their interpretations of the afterlife, everything that I read said what it was, but when I asked a colleague to read it they all had different interpretations. \n\nOne day, when I was standing at the grave of my previous mother, I saw someone else standing over the grave of one of my previous friends. I had never met this man before in my current life, but I had a sense of familiarity with him, so I approached. When he looked up at me, he had a horrified look in his face, and I could tell he made the same choice I did. \n\n“Yeah,” I said as I looked down at his previous grave “ that’s not something you’ll get used to.”\n\n“I’ve decided...” he said as he struggled through the words “I’m going back...I’ve got to know.”\n\n“I’ve thought about it too.” I said with an understanding nod.\n\n“I’ll see you in line.” He said as he shook my hand and left.\n\nI wasn’t going to do it, death isn’t something one should race towards even if you know it’s not an eternal end. I poured myself a drink and sat in front of the fireplace in my penthouse apartment and just stared, thinking. Then I finished the drink and walked to the sliding glass door, which I opened and walked out on to my balcony, looking out on the city below, then I climbed up on the railing.\n\nAnd I jumped.\n\n——————————\n\nHey thanks for reading! If there’s interest, I’ll continue the story over on my sub r/HaloRyder", "The underworld was always crowded. Not because there was no room- it was an infinite space, vast caverns full of cyclopean ruins, Not because there was no room- it was an infinite space, vast caverns full of cyclopean ruins, plains of ash and dust and clay- a vast expanse of grey and black and red and blue- soft colors fading into each other beneath a bloody sun. No, the underworld was so crowded because there were only three things to do, really. You could interact with people, you could jump into a pit marked life, and you could jump into another pit into the unknown. Nothing else changed anything- I had people try to attack me, and it simply didn’t work- no wounds, not even a mildly unpleasant feeling. It was honestly a little disappointing, as at least it would have been a sensation. \n\nThere were two ways to change in here- two pits. One, we called the way back to life. It was in a cave, a dark and warm crawlspace that led one back into life- on earth, or off of it. Life as an animal, or a human, or a planet, or an alien. It had it’s advocates. People who dove right in as soon as they died, people who did it again and again. Some of them barely spent any time in the underworld collecting themselves. The other pit was the unknown. It was dark, and steep, and one had to jump into it- I knew this from talking to some of the people who had gone there and chickened out, coming back here for a while. They were going to jump, they told me. Just… not yet. I wasn’t here for the pit. I politely shoved my way through the line, looking for someone. \n\nI met her about halfway through the line, standing there politely. This line moved slowly, no one knew what happened down this pit. Just that we never saw anyone who went this way again. People often came this way just to stare down into the blackness- to try to make out anything that they could see. Most weren’t in any hurry. Was there heaven on the other end? Hell? Nothingness? All we could say for sure was that there wasn’t any way back. \n\n“Hey…” I said, meeting her along the path. It was worn by ten thousand footsteps. This wasn’t my first time talking to her. We had known each other in life, in death, for a long time. Lives fighting, lives loving, lives of friendship and animosity. Somehow we just kept running into each other. “You’re getting close to the end of the line.” She shrugged, and smiled. A quirky half smile that I had seen clad in at least a dozen kinds of different flesh. We had talked before. Wondered about what was at the end of the pit. Wondered where it led- what happened to those who went through. Did they find god? Did they become a new universe? And now we were together for the last time, and the only thing left was to say goodbye. ", "They say it is more difficult for a rich man to get into heaven than a camel to pass through the eye of a needle. They say that to get into heaven you must be patient, kind, gentle, loving and not angry, proud or cruel. \nThey say the path to hell is the easy one.\n\nThey are right..... but not in the way you imagine. \n\nYou see god loves all his creations and wants them all to go to heaven to gain eternal life with him.\nThe profits and holy men weren’t telling us what we can do to get in, rather: what it takes to get in....if that makes any sense.\n\nIt didn’t at first. I lead an ok life, nothing good nothing too bad, and when I died I found out that god loved me and wanted to give me eternal life in eternal bliss.\n\n\nBut I will be royally fucked by a blasted elephant if he thinks I’m waiting all these fucking years it takes to greet all the cunts who died before me.\n\nI took the que down to hell, didn’t seem like a great place, but at least the line was fucking shorter.", "I contemplate my decision. \nLife? Or the unknown?\nWell, naturally I’m terrified of the second pit. It’s just human nature to be afraid of the unknown. Maybe it’s just in some satanic language I can’t read? I attempt to read it again,\n\n“Jan’jtan loghma’ahk [\|}~<]>\|%” \nIt doesn’t help that it’s in one of those unreadable cursive fonts. \n\nI ponder the pit labeled “Life.”\nIve already had one of those, so I know what it’s like. It sucks.\nAfter all, the saying is “Life isnt fair,” not “Jan’itan etc etc isn’t fair.” But life isn’t so bad; it’s right about in the middle of the good-bad scale. It’s neutral. \n\nOkay, looking at the Life pit isn’t helping. I just need to decide whether I think this mystery pit is better or worse than life. \n\n“Get a move on, we have more people to get through!” \n“I WAITED FIVE HOURS IN THIS LINE YOU CAN GIVE ME FIVE MINUTES!” I respond to whoever shouted.\n\nWhat if, if I chose life, I remember this in my next life?\nOooooh I’ll be eaten up by the curiosity of what’s in the mystery pit. \nOkay, I’m too curious. I’m an explorer, it’s in my nature! I line myself up with the unknown pit and look down into this abyss. \n\nHere we go.", "I knew my time had come as soon as I stepped up onto the podium. Death asked for no decisions as it swiftly plucks us from our bodies and whisks us to this underworld. But little did many people and major religions predict was that there's a part two. That's right. Christianity believed in two realms based on your worldly life: an ethereal heaven or blazing hell. Islam believed in two angels that'll determine your afterlife. Hell, even Egyptians believed in weighing your worldly heart to determine whether you get eaten by a monster dog or get to reap wheat happily.\n\nBut they were all wrong. Not completely though, but I can summarize it for you in two statements:\n\n1. Whatever happened in your earthly life does not affect your afterlife. At least, you won't get immediately thrusted into either a cloudy paradise or burning abyss.\n2. It's a hella long queue.\n\nWhen I woke up, I was half-expecting hell. I mean, how good would you be if you were a high-school dropout turned office worker bum who'd drink himself to near-death every weekend? But, all I saw was a huge cavern of darkness, and a brightly lit neon sign that simply glowed:\n\nLINE UP 42 THIS DIRECTION\n\nI trudged up that direction as I felt around my body. I think I died in my sleep, although not sure of what. But whatever had ended me did not leave a mark. I was wearing my blue worn-out pyjamas and slippers, organs all intact. I breathed a sigh of relief as I started on my journey to Line 42.\n\nThe walk was pretty long, but I started to enjoy it. Quietness, dimly-lit, all by myself; totally the opposite of my busy city life that ultimately amounted to nothing. But as light quickly approached, I introduced myself to an unwelcome, but all-too familiar setting.\n\nA line of people stood there as it advanced maybe every 10 seconds. But even despite then, the number of people I saw could not be put into words. Have you ever been to a concert? Not the outdoors one. The ones where the cheapest seat is $120 and you're at least 3 miles away from the stage. Great, now double that. I guess overpopulation is starting to leak into the underworld too.\n\n\"Here kiddo! Over here!\" I heard a call to my right as I saw an old man with a cane beckon me over to what looks like the end of the line. Slowly making my way there, he shook his hand in a hurried motion. I speed-walked there as I got into the queue behind him; only a matter of nanoseconds until the line behind me started building up.\n\n\"You looked lost, so I figured a kind soul would be nice huh?\" He started as he gave me a toothy grin.\n\n\"U-Uh yeah.\" I stammered out as I took a few more seconds to take in the sight. Truly something to behold that hell or purgatory or whatever this realm is, is not full of cherubs or demons or whatever. In fact, it looked more like a hospital waiting room. Without the drinks of course. I letted out a sigh of relief. At least I wasn't doomed, yet.\n\n\"This is the afterlife.\" The old man started as he gestured to the whole crowd. \"We all wait here. The good, the bad, and the ugly.\" He cracked a joke as I let out a small smirk. \"But I bet you probably wondering what awaits us at the end.\"\n\n\"Yeah. Is it God or Satan or, or I don't even fucking know at this point.\" I scratched my head.\n\n\"Haha, close.\" He said as he pointed to the wall in front of him. Placed there were two large slabs of obsidian stone with a single word in each of them. Straining my eyes, I took a closer look at what they each said.\n\nThe leftward one said Life.\n\nThe rightward one said Ferg..., Dfo..., actually, it looked more like chicken scratch.\n\n\"See, right there are two choices kiddo.\" The old man said with a smile as he traced out a circle. \"When you get to the end, there are two pits, capiche?\" I nodded apprehensively. \"And each pit will lead to either life, or your wild card!\" He danced gleefully, almost like a broken animation. \"Many are choosing their wildcard, and I'm sure gonna too!\"\n\nIt made sense the two inscriptions corresponded to the pits. But I'm still confused with mine. \"Uh, you're gonna choos-\"\n\n\"No no!\" The old man stopped me as he shook his head in disagreement. \"There's a reason it's called the wild card, and it's because it's different for everyone.\" He explained as he advanced in line; I followed. \"If you choose Life, you born again. Something new, something old, but definitely something random.\"\n\n\"BUT!\" His voice escalated with excitement. \"Your wild card is unique! May be reincarnation, may be not!\" He smiled as he placed his hand on his cane, as if in a seducing position. \"Mine says I get to relive the last 24 hours before Gertrude died, and then go to an eternal hell.\" He said in a soft and genuine tone. \"To see her again...\" He ended his explanation wistfully.\n\n\"B-but wait!\" I said as I jumped forward, causing the old man to move back in shock. \"Why would you choose 24 hours over a new life!\" My confused self nearly shouted with utter confusion as other people started giving us looks. \"W-Why?! It's absurd to choose that!\"\n\n\"Ah...yes, absurd.\" The old man said slowly as he lowered his tired head. \"She said that a lot. Must be one of the reasons why I fell for her in the first place.\" Tears started to form on his eyes as he looked up at me with his reminiscing eyes of hope.\n\n\"Before death takes you, every one has one last wish; one last chance.\" His mouth moved slowly as years of wrinkles and old age suddenly poured out their repressed sentiments. \"Even if it damns me... even if it stops my own cycle...\"\n\n\"He's right you know.\" A female voice came from behind me as a young-looking teenage girl moved forward with stride. \"My right choice says I get to see my biological father, but then get reincarnated into a life of abuse.\" Her words stung at my skin as I imagined what kind of fool would take that trade-off, but it was evident in her eyes that she wanted to see the father she never had.\n\n\"I-I see garden!\" A squeak came from below me as a small infant wearing a blue onesie crawled towards my direction. \"Me fell! Hit head!\" He squealed in a sad tone as he rubbed his head, as if hurt. \"But now I see flower! And sun! And sky! Wish! Wish!\" He waved his hands excitedly as he let out squeals of joy.\n\nPeople moved forward too as they started telling their own wild card choices. A burn victim getting to live a life graduating from her preferred university but then dying of leukemia. A truck driver who died with his family gets to see them before being whisked away. But amongst all these voices, I kept thinking about my own wild card. What have I done in my life? Who did I impact with my life? Was it good? Was it bad?\n\n*What is the meaning of my life?\n\nBut before long, I found myself at the podium. On the stage of where heaven and hell meets; where judgment and free will clash. The stage that Hamlet himself had preached about, this is the stage I stood at as I stared down at the two large bottomless pits and their adjoining signs.\n\nLife.\n\n???*\n\nI closed my eyes one last time and thought back through all my memories. Through every person whose heart I have touched or destroyed. To every interaction and choice I made. How impactful were they? Not on them, but on me? Did my life mean something to me, or was it just a flashy blur of nonchalance? Through all the happiness and sadness and tears and laughter, how much did they mean right now as I stared into the eyes of my maker?\n\nIn that one moment, I realized that the life of Samuel Gerry was nothing worth remembering; nothing more than a fleeting petal in the wind, in a world of ephemeral flowers.\n\nAnd without a second thought, I dove into the unknown.\n\n\\-----------------------------------------------------\n\n[SH](https://www.reddit.com/r/Shiruet/)" ]	5
	[WP] Everyone in the world is immune to whatever their last name means.	[ "When the name immunity reality came into the public knowledge, people scrambled to find out what their last names meant so they knew what they were immune to. Most found they were immune to nothing particular, or something very innocuous. Me? My last name turns out to be the name of an obscure Asian flower so, well, I guess those will never hurt me. Some, however, got it good. I knew a guy whose last name was Poverty and there were a good number of people who suddenly found themselves immune to things like knives, bullets, and other projectiles. Some people tried to game the system and change their last name but that doesn’t work. It is your given name, and you can’t change it, so some people won the name lottery and others, like me, didn’t. \n\nI met Lucy at the coffee place I stop into most mornings on my way to work. They called my name and accidentally handed me her drink. We quickly fixed the mistake, but I found myself unable to take my eyes off her. She was striking, short auburn hair with high cheekbones and a big, megawatt smile. Her best feature, the feature that drew me in, was her eyes – green like emeralds. We laughed at the mix up and headed for the door. I held the door for her, she thanked me, and I decided to take a chance. I never ask girls out. I’m too shy and hate being rejected. Even though I was terrified, she was just too beautiful to let walk out of my life. As we stepped outside into the cool morning air I asked her if she was seeing anyone. She said she wasn’t. I asked if she would like to get lunch or dinner some time. She told me it likely wasn’t a good idea. \n\nWe headed the same direction down the sidewalk, so I walked with her. I didn’t want her to think I was creepy, but I wanted her to know I was very interested in her. I said, “Let’s do this. Tomorrow, get to the coffee shop 10 minutes early and we’ll sit and have our morning coffee. If, after those 10 minutes, you aren’t feeling it, you head to work, and I'll never bother you again.”\n\nIt kind of felt like she was just giving in to get rid of me, but a win is a win, so I took it and we agreed to meet in the morning. The rest of the afternoon I was on cloud nine. I hadn’t asked a girl out since high school. The day went by in a blink. That night I couldn’t sleep. I was so nervous. I wanted so badly to impress her. I wanted her to like me. She was so beautiful.\n\nThe next morning, I arrived about 20 minutes early, got my coffee, and took a seat where I knew she would be able to see me. She arrived, looking casual in jeans and a light jacket, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She saw me, waved, grabbed her coffee and sat down. We talked. We clicked. For once in my life I felt myself actually having chemistry with a woman. We had similar interests and she had a blazing hot sarcastic wit. She was intoxicating. And I could feel her drawn to me as well. \n\nAs the coffee was finished and it became time to leave, we stepped outside and I asked her for her number. She told me it wasn’t a good idea for her to give it to me. I offered her mine and she declined. I was confused, we had just clicked. There were fireworks between us. I had goosebumps! I said, “I don’t understand. That seemed to go really well, and you said yesterday you’re single.”\n\n“I am single, and that did go well, but it will never work out,” she said.\n\n“Why?” I asked.\n\n“My last name is Love.”\n\nMy heart broke, a tear leaked from her right eye. We didn’t speak again. We just nodded, resigned, and headed to work.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You, a benevolent, if a little misguided, bodyhopper, decide to make it your mission to wingman for random strangers. It goes well, all things considered. Or not.	[ "The translucent, hovering mist jumped to another body, before disappearing into the person’s consciousness. In the distance, a ‘human man’ flirted with a ‘woman’, the opposite gender to his, in an attempt to breed and create offspring. His drunken efforts were in vain; the woman’s disappointed sighs and cynical eye-rolling was a statement itself.\n\nThe creature moved its new vessel, dragging their feet on the floor. Their human vessel was a little shorter than the rest, tiny stature hobbling on the floor similar to the last species they had inhabited — the Xiobs, an ancient species of dwarf-like beings.\n\nArriving at their intended destination, the erratic man continued flirting with the fraying woman, foreign language flowing about like a sea of unfamiliar fish. The translator kicked in, words coming through in the creature’s native language. “Hey, babe,” he crowed, leaning on the table. “How about me and you get a place tonight?”\n\nThe creature survey their options — they could side with the man, who appeared to be disregarding this species’ custom of privacy and staying ten feet away from other humans. Or, they could side the woman, earning their vessel a better reputation and obeying species’ ideals.\n\nThe ideal choice was obvious.\n\nThey opened their mouth to speak, to be noticed by the taller humans.\n\nThey barked." ]	1
	[WP] After years of selling an ''Alien Abduction Insurance'' scam, a panicked client calls to claim the insurance money.	[ "I was trying to do some reading when the call came in. I was in no mood to answer, as these calls were no rare occurrence. It was usually some whackjob who needed to see a therapist, and it was occasionally someone trying to scam me back. No one had actually encountered aliens. So as I took the call, I was completely unprepared for what I was about to hear.\n\n“Thank you for calling Cygnus Insurance. How may I help you?” \n\nI heard heavy breathing through the receiver. After a minute, a weak voice stammered, “He… hello?”\n\nEither this guy was putting on a good show, or this one was a legit nutcase. I silently rolled my eyes as I continued on politely. “Yes, how can I help you today?”\n\n“I… I… I was abducted.”\n\nHere we go. “Are you saying you need to file a claim?”\n\n“Yes.” \n\nI pulled up my customer database. “Can you please tell me your name and subscriber number?”\n\n“Yes, it’s—umm—James Elmer. My policy number is 182653G.”\n\nI pulled up the file. He was a plumber from Sacramento, provided his info was still up-to-date. “Alright Mr. Elmer. On what date did this incident occur?”\n\n“Two days ago, on the 10th.”\n\n“And approximately what time?”\n\n“Umm… I’m not sure.” \n\nYes, I imagine you wouldn’t be since it never happened. “Any detail you can provide would be helpful.” \n\n“Well, it was a little after dinner, so probably between 6:30 and 7:30.”\n\n“Alright. Please describe what happened in detail.” \n\n“My mom lives in Santa Rosa, and she’s getting old, so sometimes I go stay with her over the weekend.”\n\n“Ok.”\n\n“I grabbed my overnight bag after dinner and was driving west to see her.”\n\n“Uh huh.”\n\n“About an hour and a half out of town, I pulled over to use a rest stop.”\n\nWhy was it always rest stops or corn fields? “Go on.”\n\n“As I was walking back to my car, I saw a really bright light.”\n\nAll boilerplate alien fiction. “Did you hear anything?”\n\n“No. But the next thing I knew. I wasn’t at the rest stop. I was in some kind of cage with my overnight bag.”\n\n“A cage?”\n\n“Yeah, and I think I was in some kind of laboratory. It was a bright, white room full of weird gadgets and weird looking people.”\n\n“Can you describe the ‘weird people?’”\n\n“Well, they seemed to walk on two legs and had two arms like humans. But I didn’t really see what they looked like.”\n\nOf course. “How so?”\n\n“They were wearing some kind of hazmat suits. I guess to protect them from stuff in the lab.”\n\n“Sure.”\n\n“They flashed a bunch of lights at me. I guess they were doing tests. Then they moved my cage to a smaller craft to take me back to my car.”\n\n“I see.”\n\n“When I got back to my car, it was 4:30am.” \n\n“And you were completely fine?”\n\n“Well… I guess so. I was tired from being kept up, though.”\n\nI repressed a beleaguered sigh. “Mr. Elmer, have you considered the possibility that you fell asleep in your car and dreamed about the aliens?”\n\n“No! It really happened!”\n\n“Mr. Elmer…”\n\n“I have evidence!”\n\nOh, great. Now I had to wait to deny the claim until he could ship me a piece of scrap metal or a patch of latex. “What is this evidence, sir?”\n\n“It’s… it’s some kind of box. My cage wasn’t locked, and I grabbed this off a counter while they were flying me back. Then I got back in the cage before the pilot saw me. I kept it in my overnight bag.”\n\n“Can you please describe the box for me?”\n\n“It’s like the hollow frame for a cube. Only the corners are connected, and the rest is open.”\n\n“Ok.”\n\n“The frame is made of a shiny metal that’s warm to the touch, and floating in the middle is a green ball of glowing energy.”\n\nI changed my vote from crazy to scammer. My guess was that he photoshopped some sci-fi gadget for his evidence. “Mr. Elmer, would I be able to inspect this gadget in person?”\n\n“Yes, but I don’t know if it’s dangerous.”\n\n“I see.”\n\n“Every time I stick my hand into it, my hand turns invisible.”\n\nThat caught my attention. “…invisible?”\n\n“Yes. I can still feel it, but it stays invisible until I’ve had it out of the box for a couple of minutes.”\n\n“And you could show this to me?”\n\n“Yeah. Can you come to my house?”\n\n\n\nI landed in Sacramento later that evening. I could have actually arrived sooner, but I didn’t want to give him any clues as to my office’s location, so I told him I was driving from Las Vegas. After all, my whole operation was fraudulent. I tried to kill a little time beforehand by going back to my book, but I couldn’t focus. Instead, I took my time putting on my best monkey suit. After all, I needed to look like some kind of professional person. In other words, I needed to look like someone else.\n\nElmer had a small house on the outskirts of town. He answered the door in his pajamas, looking disheveled and wild-eyed. Not that I knew what he normally looked like.\n\n“Thanks for coming by,” he said. “I don’t want to take this thing out in public.”\n\nHe took me down to his basement where he had set a tarp on the unfinished concrete floor. Sure enough, there sat a cube matching his description. \n\n“I guess you’ll want me to show you the hand thing,” he said, and he stuck a fist into the cube. Instantly, it vanished, as if it had been magically amputated. \n\nI was shocked. “And you can still feel your hand?”\n\n“Yeah.” He stepped away from the box. “But it can’t touch anything. Watch.” He walked to a workbench and waved the stump of his arm in front of a coffee cup. The cup didn’t budge. “It’s like the whole thing actually goes away.”\n\n“Huh.” I was so engaged by what I was seeing that I didn’t realize I had sat down on the floor. \n\nElmer sat down as well. “I’m really glad you’re here. I thought I was going crazy.”\n\n“The thought had crossed my mind.” \n\nElmer’s hand slowly reappeared. He smiled. “So, can I file my claim, then?”\n\nI knew I had to take this device with me. Something like this couldn’t just hang out in some plumber’s basement. I started lying through my teeth. “Of course. But, I will need to take it with me.”\n\n“You will?”\n\n“Just long enough to process the claim, and then I can return it to you.”\n\nHe looked skeptical. “I really wasn’t planning on it leaving the house.”\n\n“Your claim was for 2 million dollars, right?”\n\nHis eyes immediately lit up at the mention of money. “Yes!”\n\n“Perfect! I should be back in a week with your cube and your check.”\n\n“Ok!” \n\n“I do want to make sure we keep this under wraps. Do you have something I can put this in?”\n\n“Yeah, I’ll be right back.”\n\nAs he went upstairs, I checked myself in a mirror in front of a weight bench. The wig I had worn to his house had shifted a bit. I slid it back into place and tried to pin it down with the frames of my fake glasses. Elmer came down as I was finishing, so I made it look like I was straightening my tie. \n\nHe handed me a black duffel bag. “Will this work?”\n\n“This is perfect. I’ll make sure I bring it back with the cube.”\n\nElmer was smiling deliriously. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can buy another bag with my two million dollars.”\n\nHe escorted me back outside, but he didn’t say another word. He was completely lost in his own head, probably imagining the new car he was going to buy. I almost felt bad for the guy.\n\n\n\nI arrived back at my office and changed out of my disguise. It felt good to be back in my own skin. I made myself a hot drink and sat at my desk with the bag. I knew what I had to do, but I was still overwhelmed by the whirl of the last twelve hours. I don’t know for how long I stared blankly at my list of contacts before finally placing the call. I waited as it rang for what felt like an eternity.\n\nFinally, an answer. “Commander Thingad’s office, please provide your security code.”\n\n“This is 18330562842 Gamma.”\n\n“Please hold.” I finished the last of my drink as I waited. “Your code is confirmed. Please hold for the commander.”\n\nThe commander’s face filled my overly-bright viewscreen. “To whom am I speaking?”\n\n“This is Agent 105 reporting from Terran Orbital 3, sir.”\n\n“Very well, 105. What do you have to report?” \n\n“Do we have a lab in Terran orbit, sir?”\n\n“That knowledge is beyond your pay grade.”\n\n“Yes, I know, but my intel work led me to a human who described a tag and release without a proper brain wipe.”\n\n“Such claims are common on Terra.”\n\n“Yes, but he also had a Class B phase shifter.”\n\n“He WHAT?”\n\n“I put on a human disguise and retrieved it from him myself. He thought I was an insurance agent processing a claim.”\n\n“You’re fucking with me!”\n\n“No sir.” I pulled the cube from the bag and held it to the camera.\n\n“They screwed up containment protocols, forgot a wipe, and lost gear to a human?!” The commander then went on a tirade of unpleasant language that lasted an impressively long time. As it finally slowed to a halt, he composed himself. “I’ll send an extraction team to pick the shifter up in a couple of hours.” \n\nDamn it! I thought I was finally going to get to sleep. “Very good, Commander. Agent 105 out.”\n\nI flipped off the viewscreen and leaned back in my chair. I wouldn’t be getting to bed for at least three hours, and then I had to file a report the next morning. I glanced wistfully at the book on my desk. So much for getting time to read.\n" ]	1
	[WP]Every time you feel a dark presence behind you you find nothing, until one day as you feel the thing lurking, it reaches and places its hand on your shoulder.	[ "Lurk\n—\n\nThe sleepover was epic. You and four of your best friends camping out in an abandoned mansion. You had sleeping bags, junk food, flash lights.\n\nEveryone else was playfully creeped out. With nervous giggles they said they felt shivers up and down their spines and the hairs standing up on the backs of their necks.\n\nYou felt it too, but it didn’t particularly bother you. You were used to it. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t feel it, something, lurking behind you. But whenever you turned around, it was always nothing.\n\nPat was the first to go. Went looking for the bathroom and just... never came back. That had been two hours ago, at the stroke of midnight. Since then two more of your friends had gone to find Pat... they never came back either.\n\nYou and Jordan were sitting there, silent and nervous. The prickles on the back of your neck weren’t bothering you... but your missing friends were.\n\n“This is ridiculous. They’re probably just screwing with us. I’m going to go find them... you coming?” Jordan asked nervously. You decided to go along. It was better than staying here alone with the last flickering flashlight.\n\nYou and Jordan crept up the dusty grand staircase. Somehow your lights seemed to get weaker and weaker until finally you couldn’t even see each other.\n\nWhen you realized, you hurried to catch up... but Jordan was gone.\n\nShivering in the chill, your breath coming in little visible puffs, you continued creeping up the stairs. They seemed to go on forever. You climbed until your legs ached and your heart pounded. You tried to stop but for some reason you couldn’t. You were compelled to keep climbing.\n\nYour breathing became so ragged your vision started to spot and that’s when you felt it... a cold, clammy, bony hand. Placed gently on your shoulder. It made you tremble.\n\nA chilling, inhuman voice rattled in your ear, “that’s far enough, child. Time to come back.”\n\nYour feet finally, mercifully stopped and you slowly turned, half expecting to finally see it... the nameless thing that was always just behind you. But your flashlight died in that instant.\n\nUsing the handrail as a guide you raced down the steps as fast as you could without tripping and breaking your neck. You bolted out the front door and didn’t stop until you were safe at home, buried under the covers.\n\n\nYou never saw your friends again. And they never found the bodies.", "\"What?... now we going steady?\" I said sarcastically, half expecting those to be my last words. Interestingly enough that was the first day of the rest of my life. I look in to Todd's deep black eyes, \"most people would run screaming in fear, me? No, I saw him and could sense it was love.\"\n\nA bit of back story. Before him and I met I was well known as the village bicycle, every night ot was a different guy, I had a few spats of semi long term relationships but never for very long. But no matter what I always would feel this presence always behind me. Even when I was in the club and I was surrounded by people I would always be able to zero in on this \"dark\" presence, as some may call it, it never felt like that to me. It was only a couple of years ago when it became widespread that Angels and demons were amongst us living lives like the rest of us. It didnt take long for humans and supers as they were called to start relationships, \n \"boy did the Republicans have fun on that one, when they found out that there's gay Angels.\" \nI said laughing.\n\nBut there I stood in my kitchen a year later, listening to Mariah Carey sing about her third break up with a super in a year.\n\n\"Yeah she doesn't know what love is, but she know what sells music.\" Todd jokes\n\nLaughing I pour some more wine for us and our guests. Back in the kitchen I'm standing there cooking pasta and he puts his hand on my shoulder. By this point I had become accustomed to the presence with me but it would never be there when I'd look. Every once in a while I'd catch a glimpse of a figure in a store window or the side of a car but would never be in focus. So whe I finally got to spin around and see this stunning figure in focus and in front of me for the first time, I was relieved. \n\n\"What was the first thing you ever said to me? I asked Todd \n\nHe pouted \"I told you, you over season your pasta.\"\n\nI giggled and kissed him on the cheek. \n\n\"I was also pretty underdressed to meet you for the first time as well I was in the kitchen in nothing but my socks and a jock.\"\n\nPouring more wine for his dad \n\"So how'd you feel after he told you about us?\"\n\n\"Well I was happy he was happy.\"\n\nA random demon popped up next to his dad on the couch\n\"Sorry to interrupt Luc, but D0179 has possessed half of a small town in Utah, what would you like done?\"\n\n\"Tell Crowley to let the boys know that we have one that needs dealt with...\" \n\nThe demon nodded and disappeared in a snap. It was wierd for me when Todd would just appear out of nowhere at first but by now I was used to it.\n\n\"I miss the old days when we'd deal with it ourselves but ever since I tried to possess one of those boys and had to male a deal they always get first pass\" " ]	2
	[WP] When people lie they have a chance of spontaneously combusting. The bigger the lie, the bigger the chance of combustion. You're not a great liar, but you are very lucky, and you're just about to really push your luck.	[ "Lying had always been something I didn't pay much attention to, mainly because my mother had drilled into me that no lie was worth dying. Of course, this way of thinking was pretty popular because to be completely honest, how many big lies were you really going to get away with? Thinking back to my years growing up, there were the usual games and dares one played as a teen, acting like we were rebels and deviants by risking a huge lie. We all knew that no one was actually lying. It was always something vague enough to where you didn't really know if it was just a small lie or maybe even the truth. In my case it was always the truth. I knew Momma would kill find some way to revive me and kill me if I were to ever die that way.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhich makes this situation all the more ridiculous. That I would go out this way.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt started out with a strange bubbling feeling in my gut. I must have made the most confused face because Lara immediately stopped talking and raised an eyebrow. As realization dawned on me I wanted to burst out in presumably maniacal laughter. I never really got that far though, my cackling could only bounce around in my mind while every cell felt like it was on fire. As a high-pitched noise made its way out of my mouth and ears, I could only give the cafe we were sitting in one last regretful glance. I was going to ruin so many lives and all because of such a small moment of inattentiveness. It was one of the first things we learned for fuck’s sake! If you weren’t sure of an answer, don’t answer at all. Ask them to paraphrase. Laugh and nod. Anything!\nAnd I did ponder how I was going to answer, but in that moment it just didn’t seem like a big deal. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nWhen my girlfriend asked me what my favorite color was, I should have told her I didn’t know. Apparently it’s not blue, but yellow…\n" ]	1
	[WP]A 9-year-old boy discovers that the stars in the sky are wishes made by people around the world – and that he has the power of making them come true, causing the respective star/wish to vanish. All is well, until one day, he grants the wish that is the sun.	[ "\"Twinkle, twinkle, little star,\n\nHow I wonder what you are!\n\nUp above the world so high,\n\nLike a diamond in the sky.\n\nTwinkle, twinkle, little star,\n\nHow I wonder what you are!\"\n\nSunny Tan felt totally lost. Ever since his little sister was born, everything was different. His parents stopped loving him as much, and nothing he did seemed to get their attention unless it was bad.\n\n\"Mum,\" he would say. \"Mum, mum, mum, mum, mum...\"\n\n\"Sunny, I told you, I'm feeding your sister. Go and play.\"\n\nShe would always say something blunt, and tell him to go and play, or go and talk to his dad, or go and get something to eat, or whatever.\n\nSometimes Sunny thought about the way things were before his sister was born. Now little Lina Tan was all anyone seemed to talk about.\n\nOne time when he was sitting on the porch with his dad, he said, \"Dad, why is mom so mean to me?\"\n\nSunny's dad laughed at him. \"She's not being mean to you, Sunny. She is just very busy taking care of Lina. It is tough work to take care of a baby and we need to help her out.\"\n\n\"I wish I didn't have a little sister,\" Sunny blubbered. \"I wanted a little brother.\"\n\n\"Oh, don't say that,\" said his dad, sighing. \"Tell you what, you talk to your friends and we will all go somewhere fun. Where do you want to go?\"\n\nSunny sniffed, wiped his eyes, and said: \"The movies. I wanna see Mr. Awesome IV.\"\n\n\"Ok then!\" cried his dad. \"We're going to see Mr Awesome, this weekend.\"\n\nSunny gave his dad a big hug, then ran inside to the computer to talk to his friends.\n\nSunny counted the days until the weekend. He tried to stay out of his mum's way, but then one night she surprised him.\n\n\"I got you something, Sunny,\" she said. \"Look.\"\n\nIt was a hat with a picture of planet earth on it. Sunny studied it.\n\n\"What do the words say? World's... Best... World's Best Big Brother?\"\n\n\"You've been so good keeping yourself occupied while mummy and daddy have been busy,\" she said. \"I just know you are going to be a great big brother.\"\n\nSunny accepted the hat guiltily, tried it on, and smiled.\n\n\"Thanks mum,\" he said.\n\nWhen the weekend finally came, Sunny went to the movies with his dad and his best friend Jake. \n\n\"Hey Suntan!\" Jake teased, while Sunny's dad was buying popcorn. \"Is your little sister's name Fake?\"\n\n\"What?\" asked a blinkered Sunny. \n\n\"Get it? Fake Tan?\"\n\n\"What's fake tan?\"\n\n\"Oh nevermind.\"\n\nThen, finally, they went inside and watched the movie. \n\n\"I wish I had powers like Mr. Awesome,\" said Jake.\n\n\"I wish I had powers like Dr. Lame,\" said Sunny. \"Then I'd give anyone who's mean to me bad haircuts and dorky clothes.\"\n\nWhen the movie was over, they walked out of the movie theatre, through the mall, and out into the parking lot. It was dark by the time they left, and suddenly all the lights went out.\n\n\"Wow! Dad, what's going on?\"\n\n\"It's just a blackout,\" he said. \"Lets go boys.\"\n\nBut when they arrived at the boom gate, there was a line of cars. The gate wouldn't take their ticket and lift up without electricity, so they couldn't leave the parking lot. \n\nA fat man was stomping around the boom gate, trying to lift it, and roaring angrily. \"I wish this stupid thing would open! Aggghhhh!\"\n\n\"What do we do now?\" asked Sunny.\n\n\"Hmm. Let me think,\" said Sunny's dad. \n\nThey all got out of the car. Sunny's dad had a chat with some of the other people waiting around.\n\n\"Boys,\" he said after he finished talking. \"It won't be much longer, maintenance is coming to open it up manually.\"\n\n\"Yay!\" said Jake.\n\n\"For now we just wait. Oh- Oh wow. Look up there!\" said Sunny's dad.\n\nMoments ago the sky was a haze of orange light. But now it was full of stars. There were more stars than Sunny had ever seen before. \n\n\"Wow!\"\n\n\"Did you know,\" said Sunny's dad. \"If you wish upon a star, maybe your dreams will come true.\"\n\n\"That's not true,\" Jake said. \"That's only shooting stars.\"\n\n\"What about that one?\" Sunny pointed at a star.\n\n\"Which one?\" asked Sunny's dad.\n\nThe star Sunny was pointing at was gone. \n\n\"It was just there, it was really bright-\"\n\nThen all the lights came back on, and the boom gate opened.\n\n\"Finally!\" grumbled the fat man. He drove off. Slowly but surely the cars left the parking lot.\n\n\"Sunny, it's time to go.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" he said. \n\nHe was still staring up at the sky, at the blank spot where a star used to be.\n\n\"Ok Dad,\" he said. He hopped into the car and they all went home.\n\nThe next night, Sunny went out into his backyard and looked up at the sky. He slowly lifted his finger up and pointed straight at a star. It disappeared.\n\nHe pointed at another one, and it vanished too. He looked around, as if expecting to see someone watching him ready to tell him off for making the stars go away. After that he lost his nerve and went back inside.\n\nThe next day, Sunny's mum handed him the phone. \n\n\"It's Jake,\" she said. \"Here he is Jake.\"\n\nWhen Sunny lifted the phone to his ear, Jake couldn't have spoken any faster. \"Sunny you're never gonna believe this, I'm a super hero. Sunny, I'm a super hero, I have super powers! I'm just like Mr. Awesome! Wait, I have super speed, I'll come to you.\"\n\nThe next moment, Sunny turned toward the door, and Jake was standing right in front of him.\n\n\"What the heck Jake,\" said Sunny. \"You're not joking!?\"\n\n\"Want me to tell you what colour underwear you're wearing?\" asked Jake.\n\n\"Hey! Get your super vision away from me.\"\n\nSunny was trying to come to grips with it, and then he realised. \n\n\"Wait,\" he said. \"Back at the movies, you wished you had Mr Awesome's powers.\"\n\n\"You're right... Does that mean you have Dr Lame's powers?\" asked Jake.\n\n\"I don't know...\" said Sunny. \n\n\"Try to do something!\" he said.\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\n\"Do that thing where he lifts up his hands and makes homework rain from the sky,\" said Jake.\n\nSunny laughed, and followed his friend out to the front of the house. \n\n\"Ok,\" said Sunny. \"Here goes nothing.\"\n\nSunny raised his hands to the sky and squinted really hard. \n\n\"I'll get you Mr. Awesome,\" yelled Sunny. \"With my hail of homework!\"\n\nSunny waited.\n\n\"Oh no,\" said Jake. \"Oh no, oh no, oh no.\"\n\nSunny opened his eyes. \"What is it?\"\n\nThen it hit him. Sunny looked around. It was dark. It was suddenly cold. The stars were shining down on them.\n\n\"What happened?\" he asked.\n\n\"The sun,\" said Jake. \"When you did that thing... It... It just disappeared.\" \n\nA shriek came from Sunny's house, and both boys ran inside.\n\n\"She's gone!\" cried Sunny's mum. \"The baby is gone!\"\n\nSunny had an awful, sinking feeling. He remembered the wish he made to his father on the porch a few days ago, then he took off his hat and dropped it to the floor. \n\n\"It's my fault,\" he whispered. \"It's all my fault.\"\n\nFor a moment Sunny stared at the hat on the floor without thinking. Then the words stitched on the front came into focus all at once: \n\nWorld's Best Big Brother", "When he was very young he thought the wishes were screams, an endless cacophonous wave that washed over him in his dreams. His mother took him to counsellors and therapists who declared it to be normal, a phase, and like so much else he figured it out himself eventually: When he listened carefully, they were not screams but wishes, billions of them overlapping, fighting for space, in every language and every emotion of the world.\n\nThe first wish he had fully understood was simple: I wish my father were alive. The raw emotion of it had made him cry, wake up in the dark of his room with a tear-damp face and the deepest, rawest, sensation of loss, and he thought to himself: Please let it be true, please let it be true.\n\nOnce he granted it, he knew immediately something bad had happened. Sometimes with his mother he would say something or do something and know that she found it strange, know that it was part of the side of himself that frightened her. But in that first instant he could not be sure how strange he might have been, how much she would be frightened, and there was a moment of knowing only that he had transgressed somehow, but not yet knowing how badly. And when he wised that the wish might be true, he had that same feeling: I have done something terrible.\n\nHe did not know what it was until the dreams told him. A sun was gone. Ten planets that had been warmed by its light were now cold. The dream did not know or would not say if anything had been alive on those planets.\n\nHe resolved to grant none of the wishes ever again. But there were so many of them, and they were constant, packed and packed into every fraction of every instant, the desires of seven billion people. Most of the time he could hold them at a distance, as a sort of background noise, but sometimes specific wishes forced their way through, found a way past the deafening roar to speak with a quiet insistent voice. Please help my daughter get well... Please let me pass this exam... Please let her not find out... Please let the baby be healthy... And one by one the suns popped out and dark replaced the blinding brightness.\n\nWhen he was nine, he first heard the Big Wish.\n\nMost of the wishes came with hope, despair, regret, longing, a desired packaged with raw emotion. But this one was wrapped in nothing. It came from nothing but darkness. It cut through the noise of the other wishes as if someone was in the room with him, speaking to him.\n\nLet it all end, the wish said. But not a life, or an era, or a generation. Everything. All of it. Everything that made the universe special.\n\nHe knew this wish for what it was: A terrible thing.\n\nFor a long time he could ignore it, push it away. He granted some of the other wishes to quieten it down. A son's cancer diagnosis came back clear. A man was promoted and another man was not. A woman who drove drunk made it home safely. But the Big Wish did not change. It grew louder and louder, so loud that it drowned out the wishes beyond, a scream in a room of sighs.\n\nUntil he couldn't help it any more. All cliffs in time fall to the motion of the sea.\n\nHe had granted it.\n\nIn eight minutes they would all know. The ultimate wish, the ultimate price. One and the same now, a circular causality.\n\nIt was dawn. The last light of the sun was hitting the earth. He shook his mother gently awake. She was confused a moment, then looked at him and smiled.\n\n\"Mother,\" he said. \"I have done a terrible thing.\" He lay on the bed next to her and she held him. She didn't ask any questions, and he found he was unable to say any more.", "As it turns out, it's not the lack of light we need have feared. It was the tidal effect of a massive gravitational object instantaneously flashing out of existence. \n\nBut it didn't matter what the cause was; the tide or the darkness. Both things would occur at the same time, anyway. \n\nWe just wouldn't be around to appreciate it. \n\nWe had eight minutes of ignorance in which to enjoy our lives in bliss. Or squander, as the case may be. \n\nNot everyone was ignorant to the impending catastrophe, however. \n\nHe knew it was coming; he sensed it. He could always sense when a star gave out, after he'd granted the wish. He'd watch as it blinked out of existence, reaching out to touch it in a show of farewell. \n\nBolting out of his chair by the bedside window, he ran out of his room and into the master bedroom down the corridor, screaming. As he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of his father sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He rushed onto the bed, wrapping his arms around his father as tightly as he could. \n\n\"What is it, buddy?\" his father asked, gently stroking his head. Deep down, however, he knew the answer to his own question. \n\nThe boy didn't answer, instead burying his head deeper into his father's chest, sobbing. \n\n\"Did you do the Star-Thing?\" he asked, trying to calm his son down as best he could. The boy nodded, still crying into his chest. \n\nWhen his son had first told him about his ability, he had been skeptical. However, as more and more news reports appeared of people suddenly being granted their wishes, he could no longer suspend his belief. He then proceeded to observe the boy as he granted wishes for a few nights, confirming his hypothesis that the star holding the wish was snuffed out when the wish was granted. He soon realized three things; \n\n1. The child needed line-of-sight to the star in order to grant the wish, although, he need not actually see the star directly in order to ativate his power. In short, the star needed to be in his field-of-view to be a candidate for his abilities. \n2. The star was instantaneously snuffed out when the wish was granted, like some kind of celestial candle.\n3. By extension of the first observation, all stars outside the Hubble-Sphere were inaccessible to the child. \n\nAfter a few days, he soon realized what would happen if his son accidentally granted the largest wish in the sky. He had no choice but to forbid the boy from using his power. \n\nGently stroking his hair, he asked again \"Did you do the Star-Thing, buddy?\"\n\nSobbing uncontrollably, he responded \"I...thought...maybe...if...I...did it...I could....make...mommy....come back...\"\n\nHe tried to hide the pain in his chest caused by the reply. Instead, he simply said \"come on buddy, let's go outside. I know you said you can't do this, but you have to try and make as many wishes come true as you can, for daddy, ok?\"\n\nWiping his tears, he carried the child downstairs and outside, sitting down on the grass. \n\nThe boy looked up , then paused. \n\n\"What is it, sport?\" he asked, concerned. \n\n\"Daddy, there's more of them...\" his voice trailed off. \n\nLooking up, he could see what his son was talking about. Stars were appearing on the skyline every second. Is this what Olbers had in mind? he thought, surprisingly calm.\n\n\"Go on buddy, do your best\" he urged his son, holding onto him tightly. \n\nThe night sky started to light up as the child closed his eyes, ready to begin.\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/)!", "There was just something so beautiful about the stars.\n\nMost nights this was where you found little Johnny Maker. He wasn't caught in the deep confines of sleep, red firetruck blanket wrapped securely around him. Not snared by the deadly threat that was math homework. No, he was out, out on that little rise by the side that overlooked the red-bricked house, out and among all the stars. A million points of light in that vast lavendar sky.\n\nHis little red-bricked house sat on the very top of Aria Hill, a grassy place in a rather remote area that redefined the stars for him.\n\nGrowing up in the city, he'd never known they were so spectacular. The first night after moving to Aria hill, he'd refused to move from the rise.\n\nEven still, he'd never seen them so beautiful until tonight.\n\nThe lavendar sky painted a perfect backdrop for the millions of shimmering lights that made up the night sky.\n\nLittle Johnny Maker 'ooed' and 'aahhhed' repeatedly. For him the stars shone, and twinkled and danced merrily, like there was some big secret that only he and them shared, like they were companions somehow.\n\nHe was entranced by the way they shone against that background of darkness, a stark contrast of hope in the darkest of night.\n\nHe wondered idly if the stars looked down upon them and saw the same thing. A billion lights down there, because hope and dreams weren't some far-off unachievable goal, they were always nearby, just waiting for us.\n\nHe pressed his tiny hand, and successfully managed to turn on the small mp3 player he'd snuck out from daddy's giant bedroom.\n\nWhen you wish upon a star\nMakes no difference who you are\n\nLittle Johnny Maker smiled and sang sweetly alone to the music, his small head bobbing and weaving. It was one of his favorite tunes, his mother's go-to favorite for a lullaby. It reminded him that there was hope and promise and magic in this world, and to never stop wishing.\n\nHe looked up at that gorgeous natural picture once more, and simply sat contentedly, drinking in the scene.\n\nAnything your heart desires will come to you\n\nThe stars seemed to shine a little brighter tonight, almost as if they were beckoning little Johnny to do something. Waiting for their companion star to play.\n\nIf your heart is in your dream\n\nJohnny's green eyes fixed upon a radiant star, one shining brighter than the rest. He imagined that a star shone brighter the purer the wish, and the more people wished it. He yearned to feel the wishes come true, to just grant th-\n\nNo request is too extreme\n\nThe star went out.\n\nJohnny felt it before he saw it, a man in a hospital bed getting up for the first time.\n\nHe paused. It was true. A smile bright enough to rival the brightest star broke out on his mouth. It was true! The magic was right beside them all along. Dreams and wishes and magic and hope and promise were always there beside them!\n\nWhen you wish upon a star\n\nJohnny laughed as he felt his heart lighten, an unbearable load lifting easily off him. He looked at that grand night sky and set to work.\n\nAs dreamers do\n\nSomewhere in East Carolina, a struggling student received a full scholarship.\n\nFate is kind\n\nA shining star faded, almost like it was winking at him, and Johnny saw a starving girl in Africa receive a bountiful supply of food.\n\nShe brings to those who love\n\nIn Toronto, a mother and her daughter were reunited after years of being apart.\n\nThe sweet fulfillment of their secret longing\n\nIn Singapore, a dysfunctional family healed.\n\nAnd then Johnny imagined the Sun. The brightest star he could find. He shivered with rapt excitement as he wondered how much good and kindness and hope he would bring with this wish.\n\nHe closed his eyes and reached out to the star mentally, focusing on it.\n\nLike a bolt out of the blue\n\nBut little Johnny had got something wrong. A star shone brighter because more people wished it, and that was all.\n\nAll throughout history, people who had been hunted. Been tortured. Killed wrongly. Persecuted unjustly. Starved. Drowned. Strangled.\n\nThey all wished for the same thing.\n\nFate steps in and sees you through\n\nThe death of their enemies. That number had grown to cover the world. No one was innocent, not even little Johnny Maker.\n\nEspecially not little Johnny Maker.\n\nLittle Johnny was still looking excitedly at the sky, wondering what he might find when he felt the world crack and rupture underneath him, layers of reality folding in upon themselves, the world collapsing... \n\nScreams. All he could hear were screams, a rising crescendo that engulfed everything. That and the solitary sweet tone of the mp3 player as it sang on.\n\nWhen you wish upon a star,\nYour dreams\ncome\ntr-\n" ]	4
Bonus points if Helen Keller is somehow involved.	[WP] Tell a story written with only sensations of touch. No dialogue, no visuals, no smells, no taste. Just touch.	[ "I felt the presence first as the footfalls lightly pressed into the comforter next to me. Each small paw tugged at the covers and a brushing sensation ran up my leg. One paw pressed down on my thigh and then another right next to it, creating an irritating pressure point. His cold, wet nose first nudged my finger in encouragement and I extended it into his downy soft fur and scratched his face gently. I extended another finger and very gently run my fingers along the fine hairs of his inner ear and my thumb along his velvety pointed ear. A gentle scratch between the ears and a light touch up and down the short furs on his nose, then back to the neck. I sensed a light vibration emanating from his throat as he begins to purr. I could even faintly feel his pulse.\n\nAs he pressed closer to my wife’s body, I ran my hand along his back and feel the jagged shoulder bones transition to the slight rippling of his spine. I’ve only been able to feel that as he’s gotten older, thinner, more frail. I ran the back of my hand along his study side and the silky fur yields ever so slightly to a wave of softness. He enjoyed this and thanks me with a few licks of his rough, scratchy tongue and rubbed his head on my hand with a gentle, but firm pressure of scratching an itch that persists. I felt the scabbed skin of the left side of his neck, an ailment I could not figure out. I picked up his paw and press gently on the slightly cool and fleshy paw pad to extend his claws. It’s time for a trim as the claw effortlessly drags an irritating line across my wrist and begins the slight burn of an itch that will inflame soon enough.\n\nMy examination goes unappreciated as he squeezed the side of my hand with an echo of a bite as his toothless gums pleaded for release of his paw. I let go and ran my hand and arm down the length of his back and get the full sense of softness his coat still has. He enjoyed this heavy pet and began to brush me slightly with his tail, a glittering sensation of tickling but still producing a calming brush. I ran the length of his tail between my index and middle finger and let them click down each bone joint in his tail. He forgave me quickly with another couple licks from his sandpapered tongue before curling up next to my wife to feel her warmth to keep his old joints warmed. I ran my fingers through the soft and slightly textured fur on his chest back and forth, ignoring his other skin lesion to give him some peace. I felt nothing but his love and appreciation wash over us. I feel complete, the family is all here.\n\nNow I feel lost and empty, like a sense of home is missing. Maynard, our 16 year old orange tabby cat, passed away last Saturday. He loved nothing more than to feel the sun on his face and us by his side.", "Fuzzy, shallow shag carpeting, a tightly knit rug\n\nA brush up against the hard sturdy leg of a table\n\nA jolt of pain in the left middle finger, and a little relief up the removal of what had pricked it: a smooth, cold, needle attached to a soft and slender thread\n\nFumbling about with some soft fabric, which was frayed in a spot\n\nA push in, and pull out, a push in, and a pull out. Resistance of tightly wound fabric giving way to the puncture and smooth slide of the needle, catching only for a moment on a small knot of thread.\n\nA damp, cold, smooth glass of tea, flowing easily down a dry throat to help sustain them through the heat.\n\nA push in, a pull out, a push in, a pull out.\n\nSummer heat relentlessly baking a forearm at work through a warm smooth window.\n\nA push in, a pull out\n\nA final pull, and a close inspection\n\nby running one's fingers over a seam that mended a hole.\n\nHope this turned out well enough. Criticism Welcome!", "I stretch myself and slither toward the strongest signaling current. The change has begun inside me. My innards multiplying, condensing, and separating. I pinch off the part that was once part of me. There are enough of us now that conditions feel cramped. I feel a slow vibration ahead and follow the stream of movement. It has changed me somehow, changed all of us. A warrior does not question and I march on. A mad rush begins to get to the front. My pace is slowed, as I run over the carnage, butting against the daughters of my daughters. There are other bodies too. Strangers. Invaders. We crush them under us as we dash ahead, memorizing the curves of their arms. Before I know if we've arrived I feel the presence of more strangers. I grab onto the arms of one and release the toxins I've been carrying for this purpose. The stranger weighs heavy on me before he collapses and leaves me in a pool of his juices. I am hurt but there are no new reinforcements and it's not long before I feel the tug of another stranger. We repeat this dance, tripping over fellow soldiers who have lost, and I too fight this stranger to the death. The patrol pushes me onward and I am swimming in the debris of living and dead, friend and foe. Though I am weary, the signal is strong and my arms pulsate toward it, grasping for invaders. I am punctured from behind and feel the warm stream of my liquids mingle around me. I feel a familiar presence beside me, and for a moment, the macrophage and I are one before the cold end.", "A time ago, when I felt the grass and the waters, I could do anything. I could feel the sun when I raised my hands in a silent salute to its warmth, and I could feel hell when I feel ice. Sun is my pathway to heaven, my happiness that guides me, and ice is my pathway to hell. It's cold and uncomfortable and surrounds me every once in a while in a flurry, when I feel it pelt my face and my knees and my fingers.\n\nAt such a time, I could find joy. I could find joy and solace in that I know the sun is above me and the ice is far away.\n\nI'm not sure where I was an hour ago. I don't feel the sun anymore. I can't even feel the ice. All I felt is pain, erupting violently and tearing away my soul from my body. The wrenching agony was worse than feeling hell with my fingers. It was comparable to when I held my hands under the frigid waters for quite a while and I lost my connection to the world. Even then, I felt with my feet and my arms, my tongue, and my nose.\n\nAn hour ago, I felt hell tug at my feet. It grabbed my feet and pulled me downwards to the reaches of the worst place in the Universe, and a second later my feet left the ground and I tumbled backwards, forwards, sideways, upwards, downwards. I didn't, nor do I now, know where the sky is or the ground is. I can't feel the gentle caress of the sun or the cold clutch of hell. All I know now is that my body is not akin with my mind anymore, nor shall it be again. I can't grasp the word for it, as I cannot grasp the light of the sun as I once could. I feel p- no, that's it. I've gotten it. The word I was looking for is paralyzed." ]	4
	[WP] You've been living out of a hotel off the interstate for the last few weeks, but you're not sure why or how you got there. Upon your visit to the hotel pool, you find a note telling you that you've been trapped in "The Hotel California".	[ "I knew from the very moment I stepped through the doorway that I wouldn't get to enjoy myself in the pool. \n\nAcross the hallway I could hear a group of people laughing, dancing, and drinking to their hearts content. One man yelled out \"Waiter, bring the wine!\" As the rest started to undress.\n\n\"What a place\" I kept thinking to myself. And as I sat down to catch my dizzy head, I blurted out \"What kind of place would have mirrors for ceiling tiles?\"\n\n\"Why sir, only the best kind of place would ever have those!\" The lady spoke to me. She was gorgeous, but dressed too fine to be attending the pool at this our. \"Come with us, we're going to have the feast of a lifetime.\" Her hand stretched out for mine. It was a beautiful and delicate hand, so finely taken care of. \n\nI embraced the gesture in kind, and held her hand. \"I've never met a finer gal in all of my years. What brings you here?\"\n\nShe snickered at me, almost to tease out her lecherous nature. Her body and hips swayed to the beat of my heart, and she started to walk as we held hands.\n\n\"I'm here, you're here. We're here for as long as we want. I never want to leave, and you should stay with me.\" She wrapped herself around my arm, pressing her breasts up against me. \n\n\"Such a lovely place\" Echoing in my head as we walked down the endless corridor.", "Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose and focused on counting my breaths. Then I opened my eyes again.\n\n\"Let me try again...where is the receptionist?\" \n\n\"There is no receptionist. I am the Captain.\" \n\n\"Right. And there is a wine bar...\"\n\n\"That's correct.\"\n\n\"But if I want wine -- \"\n\n\"We haven't served wine here since 1969.\"\n\n\"You're aware that's almost half a century?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"You couldn't, you know, order some...in that time?\"\n\n\"Why would we do that?\"\n\n\"For, you know, the wine bar.\" \n\nHe was about to respond when a low rumble, more sensation than sound, shook the building. The man behind the counter brightened considerably. \"Ah, it's time!\"\n\nI was about to ask for an explanation when he ducked behind the counter. He popped back up a moment later and placed a slender pink bottle and a shiny dagger in front of me.\n\nI frowned. \"This...is wine,\" I said, indicating the bottle.\n\n\"It's champagne.\"\n\n\"Yes. That's wine.\"\n\n\"It's pink.\"\n\n\"I...see that. You know that...never mind. What's this?\" I said, picking up the blade by the black hilt.\n\n\"That is your weapon for the evening's battle. Good luck.\" \n\nBefore I could say anymore, there was a loud sucking sound, and I had the sensation of falling into blackness. Suddenly, I stopped falling, and lights turned on.\n\nDon't worry if it doesn't seem like you can hurt it, I heard the Captain's voice say. You can't, really.\n\nThen I heard a wet, slapping sound behind me as something very large began to approach.\n***\n/r/ShadowsofClouds" ]	2
	[WP] A list of 1000 names falls into your possession through chance, a series of numbers following each name. After digging up a few of the names you realize they're death dates. Your name is on the list, and the date was yesterday.	[ "Joshua sat at his computer in his room, unbelieving what he just discovered. If he was dead, why was he still here? \n\nA slight breez came in from his window. \n\nIt surely must be some weird prank his friends came up with. That was the only explanation he coud think of. He started browsing the web again, as usual. he would not let Winney and the others have that triumph. \n\nBut he could not shake off that feeling that something was quite not right. A few minutes later he thought that maybe he should take a walk to take his minds off to other things. he looked out the window, it was pouring, heavy drops of water ran down the glass, so a walk was out of question.\n\nHe typed his name in the searchbar and felt like a weight was put on his shoulders. \nThe first display was his obituary. He WAS dead. But he was also sitting right here in front of his computer, in his room. What was going on?\n\n\"Please don't be afraid\" a voice spoke to him, rumbling and at the same time reassuring and soothing. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two hands appearing on his shoulders and he turned around. An old man in a long grey robe was standing in his room.\n\n\"I am Herbert\" the man said \"and it is true that you died. I am sorry\"\n\nJoshua was silent. He didn't feel fear, he felt strangely calm. \"What happend?\"\n\n\"You died in your sleep. It happens sometimes.\" Herbert told him. \"Because you are still a young soul you were chosen to become my successor.\"\n\nThe room around the two faded and they were standing in front of a tiny house somewhere on the outskirts of a big city. It was in the middle of a slum.\n\nHerbert spoke \"You will become a gatherer just like me. Now watch and learn. We are here to pick up a soul.\"" ]	1
	[WP] After a first blind date, you're convinced you've met your soulmate. You sleuth a bit and find their blog, where they've just posted their perspective of your date. Good news: they also think they just met their soul mate. Less good news: you're now terrified for your life. What did you find?	[ "The date had gone well. It had gone better than well; it was nothing short of an electric atmosphere. She had laughed at my jokes, she had interesting stories to share, and the restaurant was everything I had hoped for. But the best thing about it? The silences between all of the fun stuff felt natural. I have been on a lot of dates where as soon as the conversation simmers down, we both shuffle awkwardly in our seats wondering what to say next. With Laura, complete content hung over us for the whole evening, like I was having dinner with an long-term girlfriend on our anniversary. I found myself opening up and sharing things I thought I had forgotten: my likes, my dislikes, my fears, my goals. I exposed myself and took off my armour, and she saw that and somehow made me feel safer. \n\nWe were finishing our dessert. I had ordered the hot apple crumble with ice cream and she had the chocolate cake. We had agreed a fairly modest restaurant for our first date. The wooden tables were covered in small chips and scratches from years of nervous first-date-tapping and overactive children banging their cutlery. The floors were clean, but the old oak boards yearned for a fresh coat of varnish. Its charm came from its homemade family cooking, and the pièce de résistance was the dessert menu. I had stumbled upon this place on Trip Advisor just a week before I met Laura at the coffee shop, and it had immediately gone to the top of my list. They say baking is a science, and if that's the case, then the chef here deserved the Nobel Prize. The topping was the perfect balance between chewy and crunchy, and the Bramley apples still had enough of their bite to compliment the sugar and cinnamon. Laura had offered me a spoonful of her chocolate cake, and although chocolate desserts are not to my taste, I couldn't say no looking at the excitement in her eyes. We became the cliche first-date-couple and fed each other at the same time. \n\nI looked down at my watch. 11:50pm. I didn't want the night to end, but with my boss being away I knew I would have a lot on my plate tomorrow at work and needed to get an early start. I finished my wine and signalled for the waiter. As soon as I made the universal sign for the bill, I watched a wave of relief wash over him. I had been so encapsulated in our evening I hadn't even noticed we were the only people left here. Still, they were supposed to be open until midnight anyway, and I knew I was going to tip generously. I offered to settle the bill, and she let me. It's old fashioned, but I like being paying for the first date.\n\n\"I can't believe this was our first date,\" she said. \"I have never felt so comfortable around someone before, and that's not the red wine talking.\"\n\nShe felt it, too. There was a connection between us that couldn't be ignored.\n\n\"I'm so glad you feel the same way. I don't want to overstate it, but tonight has been perfect. When can I see you again?\" I asked.\n\nShe looked at me and smirked suggestively. My heart was racing and I thought she was going to invite me back to her place. Was it too soon?\n\n\"I'm free next Wednesday, at the same time,\" she said.\n\n\"Oh,\" I managed. I quickly realised how that must have sounded and forced a smile and said \"next Wednesday sounds great. How about you choose the restaurant this time and let me know where we're going?\"\n\nWe agreed and shared a brief kiss before she jumped into a taxi and I started my walk home. I only lived 20 minutes from the restaurant, and with a belly full of food and wine, I thought the walk would do me good.\n\nThe night was warm and uncomfortable. The sky was cloudy and the stars were hiding for the most part. I couldn't see the moon, which was a shame as I knew it was going to be full this evening. Although the walk was barely more than a mile, I was already regretting my decision to make my journey by foot. I had worn a dark blue shirt with light blue buttons, dark jeans, and some shoes I had bought especially for the occasion. They were dark brown Italian leather, and I hadn't had the chance to wear them in. Each step was cutting into my heels, and the subtle fuzz of the alcohol was only helping a little bit. I couldn't stop my thoughts racing ahead to the future the whole way home. Would she be the one? Would we get married? Would we start a family? My mind was working at 100mph and I knew I was setting my expectations high, seeing as I had only known Laura for one night. But I didn't care.\n\nI approached the door to my apartment building and made my way into the dimly lit corridor. I pressed the button for the elevator and waited. The elevator always stank of piss, but my apartment was on the 4th floor and I wasn't prepared to climb the stairs in those shoes. I struggled with my lock and forced open my door before kicking off my loafers. The relief was euphoric. I wandered through to my kitchen, grabbed a beer, and sat down on my living room sofa before turning on the TV. I flicked through the channels before settling on some police car-chase show. It wasn't particularly interesting but it gave me some background noise whilst I scrolled through Facebook on my phone. It wasn't long before I found myself on her profile again - maybe half an hour. Her profile picture was her sunbathing on pure white sands next to crystal clear turquoise waters. She had mentioned she had visited Saint Martin a few months ago, and the palm trees in the background seemed to confirm this is where the photo was taken. I was looking through her \"About\" section when I noticed something she hadn't mentioned on the date; she was an active blogger. Naturally, curiosity got the better of me and I immediately fired up Google Chrome.\n\nI had searched for the best part of 20 minutes and drew nothing but blanks. I had searched every combination of her name and blog related terminology I could think of and was starting to give up. Then a thought occurred to me: maybe if she's updated it today she has blogged about me? I typed in my full name and the word blog, and hit enter. Bingo. The first return on the search was an anonymous blog by a girl who had been on a date with none other than Jake Stone tonight. Whilst my name isn't particularly unusual, I would have been really surprised if another Jake Stone had been on a first date on the same night, so I clicked the link.\n\n\"My date with Jake was perfect.\" The blog read. All of the feelings from the restaurant started rushing back to me and my eyes were reading faster than my brain could process the information.\n\n\"He is everything I have been searching for, and I already know that he is the one for me.\"\n\nThe whole post was littered with compliments. He is athletic, he is intelligent. But I barely noticed them. The only line that stuck in my head was \"he is the one for me.\"\n\nI stayed silent and still for a moment, I needed to let the adrenaline subside before I could focus my attention again. I took a deep drink from my bottle, and I decided I would have a look through the rest of her posts. There were a lot of headings: my boss doesn't take me seriously, my holiday in Saint Martin, my plans for the summer. \n\nThen I noticed one that piqued my interest a little more than the rest. \"The Day I saw Jake Stone\".\n\nWhen I had first ran into Laura in the coffee shop near my office we had hit it off almost immediately. It was lunch time so the queue of smartly dressed business people and students from the nearby university had stretched out of the door. I remember the scent of perfume in front of me drawing my attention away from my phone. I looked up and in front of me I saw a woman with wild blond curls running down most of her back and stopping just below her hips. She wore a tight black dress and high heels to match. She ordered her coffee and move to the waiting area, with me close behind her. As I walked over she looked up and smiled at me. Her eyes were an icy blue and her smile was gentle. She wore a deep red lipstick which seemed to blaze against her pale soft complexion. For a brief moment, I forgot everything in the world and it was just us. The coffee shop blurred into the background. The loud whirring of the espresso machine was silenced. The idol conversations of office politics and studies came to a halt. There was just her and that smile. \n\nI clicked the link, desperate to find out if she had shared the same passion for that moment as I had. The second the page loaded up the hairs stood up on my arms and I felt a sudden dread creeping up my spine. The warm beer bottle started to shake in my hand. The top of the post was dated one month before we met at the coffee shop. It must have been a mistake. I tried to shake off the nerves and started frantically reading the body of the post. \n\n\"Today I finally saw someone who is perfect for what I need. His name is Jake Stone and he works in the office building on the opposite side of the street. I don't want to say too much just yet, in case he's not what I'm looking for. He visits the coffee shop on the corner every day around lunch time. I'm going to try to engage with him there. I'll report what I find here.\"", "13/08/2018\n\nHey cyber guys and girls. Its your gal, HungryforLove with another first date re cap! And let me tell you.....I'm excited about this one! \n\nSo he ticked all the boxes. Tall. Good looking. In good shape. Clean shaven (you know I don't like hairy men!). Picked me up in his car and was a perfect gentleman on the ride over. All good so far!\n\nSo we got to the restaurant. He said he was going to surprise me with it and i was a bit apprehensive. Some guys have gone for the veggie places and you know I like meat! LOL.\n\nSo we pull up and its Jasper's, the steakhouse I had been meaning to try for aggggessss. Major bonus points for our boy.\n\nMeal was amazing. I ordered the sirloin, rare. Can't go for filet mignon on the first date girls! Now Tony (that's his name duh) didn't balk when i ordered it rare and in fact, he had his the same way! A proper carnivore, so rare these days! \n\nSo Tony paid for everything even though I insisted on going dutch, what a sweetheart. And when he dropped me off, there was just a little kiss at the end, nothing R rated. Just a bit of tongue so i could taste that yummy rare steak. \n\nI'll be honest guys and gals, I think this could be it. This could be the one!\n\nI know I said that with Mike last week but to be honest, he tastes a bit off. \n\nAnyway, check back in Thursday to see how date number two went! Who knows, maybe ill invite Tony back for a bite ;)\n\nCatch you laters,\n\nHungryforLove\n\n\\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nr/AMSWrites" ]	2

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