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] Turns out eating broccoli as a kid made you immortal.	[ "I find myself in the wilted leaves, the fading green stalks, the steam, I am immortal, this is my tale.\n\n1983. Born. The world is white. We associtate white with being good. Darkness is better. We live in darkness until we are thrust into light. Into white. I am mortal.\n\n1984. Man has walked on the moon. I have walked on the carpet, through shit. Potty training commences. I am mortal.\n\n1985. I have all the tools I need to eat. The first of the florets is presented to me. I chew greatfully. It is broccoli. I fart loudly. I am mortal.\n\n1986. The mother asks me if I want other foods. Though I eat them, my one request is always broccoli. I am mortal.\n\n1989. This is the year. The world was smitten with pizza. I ate broccoli. I am no longer mortal.\n\n1990. I am saddened. Broccoli does not come in Lisa Frank style colors. I am not mortal.\n\n1998. A man is thrown off the top of a Hell in a Cell. I watch in awe, broccoli in hand. I am immortal.\n\n1999. The same man that was thrown from the Cell is beaten in the head over 13 times with a steel chair. I dip my broccoli in ketchup but prefer it plain. I am immortal.\n\n2000. Y2K has nothing on Y2B. I am immortal.\n\n2010. I try to monetize my YouTube videos. No one is interested in watching Broccoli steam. I am immortal.\n\n2017. I stream Broccoli videos to my Snapchat. 13 people are interested. I am immortal.\n\n2020. I procreate. I will feed this offspring broccoli. I am immortal.\n\n2038. The offspring may be immortal as me. They are joining the Space Force to fight in the Alien Wars. I am immortal.\n\n2040. Earth has been put on the endangered planets list. The Alien War has been lost. We are not slaves; we are a wildlife rehabilitation clinic. I am immortal.\n\n2050. A decade of aliens stopping by to observe and interact with us. I have been assigned to do stunts. My apartment is small, but I have everything I need. I am immortal.\n\n2062. The visitors have slowed down. The word around town is that a far off war has resulted in decline in alien visitors. The offspring procreates. There is no more broccoli. I inform of the broccoli situation. Theoffspring tells me of the fatal shots that occured during the war. We are immortal.\n\n2072. The offspring wasn't immortal. The offspring was only lucky. There are no visitors. Earth continues to die. I am alone. I am immortal.\n\n2082. Earth has died. I am alone. I am immortal.\n\n3082. I've died several times on ym way down. This is the deepest part of Earth. Nothing has eaten me yet. I am blind. I can not see. I am in lead shoes. I am immortal.\n\n4099. I took off the shoes. I rise. I am immortal.\n\n5000. New animals walk out of the water. I greet them with food. I am immortal.\n\n60000. Wars break out. People scream for me where I can not hear them. I am immortal." ]	1
	[WP] 50 years into the future, baby names have become more ridiculous due to parents trying to make up “unique” and “creative” name for their kids that it became the norm. You are the first parents in 50 years to name your firstborn with a name from the old generation.	[ "Mum, I’m writing this letter to tell you something important. You know I’m busy and you’re far away so thought this would be better than a mundane text. This letter is so important to me and you’ll see why. \n\nI just need to say sorry, for years I secretly hated you. I went to bed angry and woke up angry. Sat there every day frustrated at the world; mainly you. My anger and distaste was immeasurable. \n\nAlongside my apology I want to thank you, for what you have given me is unique and formidable. You’ve given me countless chances in life, you’ve done insane things for me. Most importantly you named me Eleanor. \n\nNo symbols. Less than seven syllables. No accents. It’s so unique that for decades no one has had a name like that. Eleanor. That’s me. It’s simple and so analogue. Rustic. Old-age. \n\nYou know you consoled me when I was bullied for having a simple name. Or an outdated name. Overall it has been a whirlwind experience. News outlets contacting me about my name. People shocked when they hear it and asking me to reiterate. People struggling to pronounce it. It’s been an experience that no one else will ever have all thanks to you naming me Eleanor. \n\nAlthough I wanted to change it. Even had a phase of asking you to call me Alëjicændorianpôra. At the end of the day I am Eleanor and as simple as that may be I appreciate it. \n\nEspecially when I was in reception learning how to write my name!\n\nI love you mum, thanks for giving me the gift that is my name. " ]	1
	[WP] Born misshapen to an unwanting mother and a horrified stepfather, you were locked as a child under the temple in a labyrinth designed not to keep others out, but to keep you in. You are the Minotaur. Tell your story	[ "As a boy, my parents took one look at my malformed, twisted body and cast me aside like an animal. They noted my rapid growth and the wise men told them I would soon be able to overpower them. They cruelly locked me away in this maze of a cage which I have wandered these many years. However, I harbor no ill will towards my former parents. They were right to do so.\n\nI have subsisted on the rats which dwell within these walls and the prisoners which are thrown in with me. At first, it horrified me to eat those who I would have known as neighbors, but I eventually began to enjoy it. The hunt was all I knew as I chased them through the narrow corridors I call home. I used to hunt fervently for the exit but as my animalistic side grew more pronounced, the search for escape gradually ended. I accepted my fate to wander for eternity among stone walls which I have no hope of ever seeing an end to. \n\nFor a long time, no more prisoners came to me and I have struggled to stay alive. It has been longer than I could imagine. My body is staying strong long past when an ordinary person’s would fail and they would crumble to dust. My eyes have long since faded from disuse. My ears and nose are all that connect me to the outside world beyond my immediate area, but even they have weakened over the years. I thought I would be here forever alone until I finally stumbled to the end.\n\nThat was when I heard a noise. \n\nMy attenuated ears picked up the sound from nearby. The scraping of metal on stone broke my reverie and I searched for the source. A clatter signaled what I hoped to be true. The smell of human once again filled my nostrils and sent me into a frenzy. I grew closer and began to hear voices in a strange language I did not recognize. It did not matter. They would no longer be speaking at all once I reached them. \n\nAs I rounded the corner, my long dead eyes detected a hint of light, blocked by two figures hunched in the dirt. They held strange objects in their hands, metal boxes which emanated light. I cared not, though. Their screams as I raced toward them drowned out all other noise and thought.\n\nI felt alive again. \n\nCrete would once again know my fury.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You gained celebrity status as an actor who plays a super hero and keep being asked to visit terminally ill kids, but you have a real super power: The ability to heal any illness.	[ "You've got to be careful when you can do the things I can. It sounds great, sure. But you have to be selfish. \n\nYou cannot save everyone. It's a hard fact to bite. \n\nSometimes I visit the pale near-dead with their skin tight around their bones, veins and arteries floating at the surfaces of their bodies - when a person is barely a grade above a skeleton. Thin hair left on their heads, eyes hollow and round like mini moons. A forced smile despite the misery of pain. You cannot save them. Even if they're the sweetest fighter. You save them, someone will know.\n\nI save the meaty, the fresh fighters and beginners. Someone with more substance. You look at them, wish all the strength of the world upon them and watch the magic slowly happen. The fan letters really make my ego grow but I keep trying to pin it down so it doesn't overgrow like some unwanted giant weed.\n\nAnd now I'm going to enter the room of the near-dead. The smell is always nauseating, sticking clean fumes down my throat. Takes many toothbrush attempts and tubes of toothpaste to make it go away. I stick with mints now. It helps.\n\nWow. It's a little girl today. If I recall her name is Louisa. \n\n\"Hello Louisa! It's me, the Ferocious Fighter! I'm here to help you fight cancer!\"\n\nThe little girl giggles and coughs and cannot stop staring at me with her doe-eyes. It's off-putting. Her eyes are a beautiful hazel and her hair is shiny black bowl over her yellow-tinted skin. The beeps of her small heart are loud.\n\n\"Hello Mr Fighter,\" Louisa says to me, her smile still beautiful. \n\nOkay I might be losing it on this one. This is hard. She's got to be no older than 6 or 7. She's tiny. Polite. Has her whole life ahead of her. Like all the others. All of the others.\n\n\"How are you doing today?\" I ask as I sit on the end of her bed. Her parents, I should add, are sat on chairs, watching. Peering. It's not great. The atmosphere is dark.\n\n\"You can save people,\" Louisa smiles at me, eyes sparkling with what I think must be hope.\n\n\"Now Louisa he's not a healer, he's the Ferocious Fighter!\" One of her parents says. I don't really know which. I'm not paying attention to them; I'm trying not to cry.\n\n\"But you can, can't you?\" Louisa says to me. And then she pushes her little pink bunny plushie towards me.\n\n\"Can you heal Mr Bunny-bun?\" She asks me. \"He's been sick and I want Mr Bunny-bun to be all better.\"\n\nI can't help but smile. Because this is not what I expected. Heck. I never expect it. All I do is tell myself, I won't save the kid. I'll let nature take what she wants. But damn it.\n\nEvery kid I've seen, I've saved. And Louisa will not be an exception. When I see their letters, I was lying. My ego doesn't grow. I cry and I cry because someone out there is living because of me. \n\nSomeone will catch on and realise soon enough. But until then, fuck it. I'm saving all of the children. \n\nr/astoriawriter " ]	1
	[WP] "Okay, so, in order to decide which side of the R&D gets funded-and what our army will be made of-we'll have the prototypes for our cyborgs and psychics battle. Whichever side wins, gets funded."	[ "Layla was the shortest one. Barely five feet tall, the crown of her short-cropped head only came up to the middle of Bob's ample belly. But despite the small body, she had the loudest voice. She wasn't a leader, per se--it's hard to have a leader with scientists prodding and examining every damn thing they did, down to measuring their feces. But Layla's reassuring confidence kept them together, even when it felt like their minds and bodies had been ripped apart by the cruel experiments they were subjected to.\n\nDr. Marconi, their self-styled \"father\"--even though Bob was twice his age--was reiterating, for the thousandth time and final time, the plan. He was tall and thin, wearing a lab coat like a mad scientist out of a cartoon. Bob had never understood that. \n\n\"Okay. You've been through all the drills, so you know what to do,\" Marconi said, his prominent Adam's apple quivering nervously. \"Layla is command and control. Shaniquah shields you right out the gate while you look for cover. Bob rips up the terrain for cover, and gathers material for the twins to use as ammo. Roxy and Devon run interference.\"\n\nThey just watched him and waited for him to finish. They had just been through 2 months of intense combat training. This explanation was to make Marconi feel better.\n\n\"...and remember, it is highly important that we win!\" Marconi slapped his fist into his hand. \"The funding for our entire department depends on it! We'll all be out on the streets if you fail!\" \n\nAnd we'll be dead. Bob 'pathed to Layla. Great pep talk.\n\nRight? She sent back, along with the image of her rolling her eyes.\n\n\"Okay. This elevator will take you up to the staging area. As soon as the blast doors open, it's weapons free. Eh, so to speak.\"\n\nIt was really more of a platform with a worryingly short safety fence than an elevator. When they were all on, Marconi slapped the big red button that started them juddering upward toward the test site.\n\nThe tension rose as the elevator rose. A feeling of doom hung over the band of psychics, made all the more real by their powers. The air actually started to take a purple tinge. Phillip, the older twin, started shaking. Brett took his hand.\n\nLayla reached out and 'pathed them all at once.\n\nOkay, everyone. Change of plans. Sorry I couldn't tell you earlier.\n\nWHAT? 'pathed Phillip NOT NOW NOT NOW YOU'RE GOING TO GET US KILLED\n\nTrust me. An image of a sly smirk. Just follow my lead.\n\nThe elevator slowed as it reached the top, an open concrete room with a gunmetal blast door. Security cameras stared down from the corners of the ceiling. The platform locked into place with a sickening loud clank. A few seconds later, the inner blast doors began grinding open as they retreated horizontally into the wall.\n\nThe air pressure sharply rose as Shaniquah, clenching her fists, began raising a shield. Layla put her hand on her shoulder.\n\nNo, not yet. You'll know when.\n\nThe inner blast door open, the outer door rose up, revealing an enormous room half the size of a stadium. Layla wasn't sure if they were still underground, or if they had created a building above ground to avoid a cave-in. There were short concrete walls and pylons built to provide cover. Bob couldn't help but recalling the old Gears of War games. This time, at least there was a reason for all the carefully placed cover. They could barely see, on the other side of the cave, a corresponding door was opening.\n\nOkay. Now we just walk out to the middle.\n\nAs they stepped out, the observation deck came into view on the left, a hexagonal outcropping in the ceiling ringed in lights. Layla sensed Marconi was up there already, and felt green-and-orange surges of his frustration and anguish as they blatantly disobeyed months of strategy and training.\n\nAs they continued to the center of the cavernous room, making their way around the pylons, their opponents came into view--eight or nine monstrously proportioned robots. Encased in metal, one could hardly believe that they still contained beating human hearts and thinking brains. The tallest one was nearly nine feet tall, a featureless head with no visible eyes or mouth atop the torso. Its right arm terminating in an enormous cylindrical energy cannon. And they were not all humanoid in shape. Two were insectoid, one resembling an enormous mechanical spider. One of them was an almost perfectly smooth sphere, five feet in diameter, rolling alongside the largest one at the front.\n\nBob felt his balls retracting into his pelvis, prickles of fear dancing like invisible fire on the back of his neck. But Layla was walking in front, as calm as could be, so he kept going.\n\nThe two groups met uneasily in the middle, stopping about fifteen feet apart. Bob stared at the arachnid near the back. Now that they were close enough, he could see sharp blades glinting at the end of pedipalps as long as his arm. \n\nThe two groups stared at each other for a moment, before Layla skipped forward a bit, right up toward the tallest cyborg. With an iron thunderclap, it dropped down to a knee. Layla reached her arm up around the cyborg's left shoulder, leaned up, and kissed the creature on its smooth chrome cheek.\n\n\"Hey, everyone,\" she said aloud quite cheerfully, so the scientists monitoring them could hear, \"Meet my new boyfriend Jerry.\"\n\nAs Shaniquah and Phillip both gasped in shock, the other cyborgs grew even more still, just as confused as the band of psychics. \n\nJerry inclined his head back toward the other 'bots, a red light on his neck pulsing as he spoke.\n\n\"I am sorry to keep you in the dark, comrades. This is Layla, a telepath. She reached out to me some time ago. I could not tell you without risking everything.\"\n\nUp above, on the observation deck, Layla felt yellow and white flashes of shock and panic as the scientists came to grips with what was happening.\n\n\"So,\" Layla said, as Jerry raised his energy cannon toward the observation deck, \"who wants out of here?\"", "We all sat in silence as our truck transported us to the testing site. I heard one of my comrades whispering a prayer under her breath as I anxiously pondered my fate. \n \"Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I fear no evil...\"\n\nI couldn't help but wonder why she still believed in God. In God's eyes, we are abominations. Metal-riddled mutants that have strayed far from the path of righteousness. We willingly gave up our flesh and blood in exchange for manmade technology and fluid. However if praying to God will help her kill, she can pray to every deity known to mankind.\n\nWe were briefed on this event three months ago. R&D didn't have enough money to work on two major projects at once, so they had to make a choice: human cybernetics research or telepathic weaponization research. Many years ago I sold my humanity and soul to be a test subject for the former. My comrades can all say the same. Today, we move to fight for our decision, for if we lose the battle we will have sold our bodies and lives for nothing. We will be \"decommissioned,\" which is the polite way of saying \"executed and buried in an unmarked grave.\" Our families left unaware of our fate. The same can be said for the mind-freaks that we're being forced to slaughter. I know some of them. They're decent people. I hope I don't come across any of them during the melee.\n\n100 subjects of each research group were randomly selected to take part. It was like a lottery. We were all given unique tickets and if your number was called, you were chosen to kill people who've never wronged you. I was number 93.\n\nWe arrived at the battle site after many hours of waiting anxiously. You could have heard a paperclip hit the floor. The doors slowly opened and we were herded out and into a wide open field, barren of life. Except for the mind-freaks on the other side. When a dome energy shield descended on us and confined us into the battlefield, we launched at each other. Immediately some of my fellow fighters fell on their knees screaming as their minds were ripped apart from the inside. My brain was replaced with a complicated set of experimental technology, so there was nothing they could do to me from a distance. I sprinted across the battlefield, determined to kill for no other reason than to survive. I transformed my arms into five-foot long blades sharp enough to split a hair. I'll never forget the look of horror in a man's eyes as I sliced through his carotid artery. My neurotransmitter hub shot me with an overdose of adrenaline and steroids to increase my strength, agility, and rage. I twisted and turned like a whirlwind, cutting people in half and covering the ground with their entrails. I decapitated people, sending their heads flying towards their horrified friends. I hated every minute of it, but I couldn't stop. I had to keep killing. \n\n As I was preparing to imaple a woman, I was hit by a freight train. Or that's what it felt like. It was one of my comrades, being mind-controlled by one of the psychics. He was at least 9 feet of pure metal. I was helpless as he pounded into my head, my chest, my limbs. I heard bolts fly out of my reinforcements and I heard metal rend as he ripped off my armor plating. I prepared to die and meet whatever the afterlife contained when he stopped. He just stopped and stared at me with lifeless eyes. Then he collapsed to the side. I can only assume that the psychic controlling him had been killed.\n\nAfter several minutes of struggling and sparks flying, I stood up and looked around the battlefield. It was strewn with remains. Not even corpses anymore, just massive pools of blood, cyborg fluid, electronic parts, and gore. Out of the 200 people that had started this battle, only four of us were left standing. The cybernetics had triumphed. Now I might be able to go home to see my family. The family I sold my life for. The family that had never known real food into I sold my body, my life, and my soul. The family I killed for. I'll be able to return to my family, but the 196 people murdered tonight never will. With the technology I have helped create, there will be millions of cybernetic soldiers. By the time the research is finished, they will have been stripped of emotions. Of morals and ethics. They will be literal killing machines. Maybe I can return to my family, but in the future there will be millions of families torn apart due to the creation of weaponry that I contributed to. I'll have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life.\n\nBut my daughter will never know. All she'll ever know is a full belly and happiness. That's all I've ever wanted." ]	2
	[WP] In the future all cars have auto-safety features that kick in if the user tries to violate a traffic law. A side effect of this is that exciting chase sequences have all but disappeared. A fact you ponder as you and the evil henchmen have the safest, most road legal, life or death chase.	[ "“Remember the good ol’ days, Sal?”\n\nIt’s hard to remember. Not because it’s painful or particularly difficult, but rather because we have three armoured police cars following us down the street. \n\n“Which ones?” I growl, gripping the steering wheel and flattening the accelerator pedal. “The ones where we weren’t in trouble or the ones where we had enough to eat?”\n\n“The ones with the old cars,” Arthur answers, eyes glancing to the rear view mirror. “You remember? The ones that never had limiters.”\n\n“Never had one.”\n\n“I did.” I know, but I’m a little preoccupied to tell him; I forgot to flash my indicator and now the car won’t let me turn. I eye the traffic lights up ahead with no small amount of unease; if the lights change then we’re done for. “Dad used to drive out to the country in it. Used to be able to get ninety out of her when there was nobody around.”\n\n“He still got it? We could use it right about now.” The thought of driving an unrestricted car terrifies me, but it’s not half the fear of what awaits us if those officers catch up to us. We’re almost at the crossing and the lights turn to amber. I start to pray. \n\n“Nah he got it confiscated. Old man Jones dobbed him in one night after we took it round the block a few times-“\n\n“Then why are you telling me?” The car sails through the junction; apparently we were close enough to still pass. Perhaps it’s the civilian car directly behind us; stopping for those lights would have been more dangerous than going through. \n\n“Just thought I’d lighten the mood.” He glances out of the side view mirror and gasps, hastily turning in his seat. “Look, Sal! Look!” I risk a glance in the rear view mirror but all I can see is the intersection and a glimmer of red and blue. \n\n“I can’t, can I?” I snap, eyes on the road. There’s a junction up ahead that’ll take us out on to the Intercity Straight. If we can get there first-\n\n“But Sal, you have to look!” I growl and twist in my seat, turning as far as I dare. It takes a moment but I finally spot what Arthur’s giggling at and I can’t help but laugh a little myself - that is, until the mechanical ping that comes from the dashboard. \n\n”Inattentive driver. Finding a safe space to pull over-”\n\n“Oh give it a rest,” I spit, turning my eyes back to the road. My eyes are on the car in front but my mind is seeing something else: three police cars, sirens wailing, waiting patiently for the lights to change. \n\n“They’re still in civilian mode!” Arthur cackles, slapping his knee. \n\n“I thought they were supposed to change over when they put the sirens on,” I say, indicating in plenty of time. Breaking on to the Straight just got a lot more possible. We change lanes and round the corner in one smooth (safe) motion. \n\n“George did say that some of the newer cars had bugs,” Arthur answers. “Looks like they haven’t gotten them all worked out yet.”\n\nAnd as we merge on to the Intercity Straight, I find myself grateful for the first time for restricted cars. " ]	1
	[WP] An alien ship lands in your backyard. Cautiously approaching, you spot, under a strange assortment of colors, the characters "USA".	[ "\"What the heck is this doing in my backyard?\" I asked myself, going up to the crashed spaceship. \"U S A? What does that stand for? Universe Sandwich Academy?\"\n\n\"SANDWICH!?\" My younger brother pops up, \"Can I have one!?\" \n\n\"We gotta find the sandwiches first!\" I answer, and pry open the door. We both went into the strange spacecraft. My brother dusted off a tank if something and cried, \"Look! This thing is named after me!\"\n\n\"Yeah, it is,\" I said, studying the letters on the tank. Strangely, sure enough, my brother's name, Gasoline, was across the front of the tank. \"Weird. Anything named Helium around here?\"\n\n\"Maybe! And we could get your friend Mercury and Iron over here to see our discovery!\" Gasoline said happily. \n\n\"That's a good idea! Come on man! And later, we can all get pizza.\" I said to him as we walked away from that strange... Universal Sandwich Academy spaceship. " ]	1
	[WP] You are Satan's younger brother, the ruler of Heck.	[ "They always loved him more, I thought as I moved down the marshmallow and gingerbread walkway, always believed that he would be the only ruler in our family, thought that I would do nothing that compares to his achievements, but here I am creators, here is Satin, Lord of Heck.\n\nA smiling, soft blue serpent spun out from the vat of honey.\n\n\"How are you this day, Satin?\"\n\nI nodded. \"Well, doing well — and yourself?\"\n\n\"Every day I remain here, is every day that I am splendid.\" The serpent spun once more, then dived under the honey.\n\nRuler! Overlord! Top dog! No one can disagree, no can argue; no one dares to.\n\nThe gingerbread path rose up the sprinkled chocolate hill, then weaved down into the forest of black licorice and dark chocolate. A billowy reddish white squirrel crawled down one of the trees, looked down upon me.\n\n\"Greeting Satin! What are you plans for this day?\"\n\nSlave, peasant— I own him, own all of this...\n\n\"Oh, not much this day, little one. Perhaps just a stroll through the land, making sure everything is in order.\"\n\n\"Do not tire yourself out, Lord — would not want you to be too exhausted for the gathering.\"\n\nAh, the gathering; where they come as one and grovel, beg at my feet. If only the creators could see me then...\n\n\"I ensure I will not. Good day, little one.\"\n\n\"And to you, too!\"\n\nI had left the forest and continued along the path to a clearing cut out of the sweet honey grass. Multicolored gum drops rimmed the clearing. In the center stood my throne, crafted from sugary hard candy and peppermint sticks. I sat upon it and waited.\n\nThey came in laughing, dancing, smiling droves into the ceiling: Squirrels, deer, rabbits, chinchillas; serpents; large, grinning behemoths with swirls of spearmint in their horns and lavender on their breath, tiptoeing titans that stood fifty feet high, long, sinewy things with shimmering, rainbow wings and maws that issued hot cocoa for all to enjoy.\n\nThey stood around me.\n\nAh, my people, prisoners of Heck...\n\n\"What is on the agenda today, Lord?\" a titan asked.\n\n\"There is only one thing, and that is to prepare someone new coming to Heck.\"\n\nSome clapped, some cheered, others jumped up and down.\n\n\"Who?\" a rabbit asked.\n\n\"He goes by the name Chris Cringle.\"\n\nIf only my creators could be here now, I thought, smiling." ]	1
	[WP] "You saw the footage!" I yelled angrily "It massacred three containment teams and walked out of the goddamn rubble after we shelled the complex for christs sake!" I paused momentarily to catch my breath before resuming "What makes you think that the tanks will do anything?	[ "\"What i think is that those tanks will delay it for long enough for us to get the fuck away from that thing!\" General Woodsteel exclaimed.\n\nI groaned and burried my face in my hands. \"Did you even pay attention to what i just said? It tore apart three heavily armed and armored containment teams, which were equiped with the most advanced equipment on the fucking planet, like they were made of fucking cardboard! Without suffering any damage itself!\"\n\n\"And when we shelled the place, it popped out of the rubble like a fucking cartoon character, again without a single scratch, and just started laughing like a maniac. It fucking laughed, at if it was all a joke to it. Tanks are going to do jack-diddely-shit to delay him!\"\n\nThe General gave me a serious look. \"We have to try,\" he said. \"We can't just allow it to roam free. We must do something, come up with a plan.\"\n\nI sighed. \"Listen, i agree that we can't allow it to roam free, that's why we put it in containment in the first place. But it's clear that it is much more powerfull than we had anticipated. Simply throwing troops and vehicles at it until it dies isn't a very good strategy.\"\n\n\"́Y̶eah, ̶g͘otta̢ a͟g͞r̨ee͡ with͞ M͢işter ̶S҉c̵i̵énce̸ ͞on̢ ͟t͞hàt.́ Yo̡u guys ąr̢e͞ a lot͞ ͞m͡o̕re̡ bo͝ri͘n͘g͠ ̶t̴h͞an i͢ ̧th͠oug̵h͝t͠ ̴yǫu ̧wo̶u͡l҉d b̴é.͏\"̵\n\nMe, the General, and the rest of the personell present looked to the door, startled by the strange voice.\n\nIt was the [creature](https://s22.postimg.cc/psnjw1q01/Haikorain_Disguise_Form.png), it's rasping voice sounding like a combination of breaking eggshells and sizzeling oil.\n\nIt walked into the room, straightening his bowtie. Through the door we could see what was left of the military camp outside, which was not much. It had annihalated most of our forces without us even noticing.\n\n\"̷Now,̶ a̴s͠ i̢ ̸s҉ai͠d,̧ yo̡ų ̢g̷u̕ys ͡h́av̡e ҉beén ͠r̴ąt̨her̸ ̸bori̷n̕g̷ t͞ǫd̷ay. I ha̧d e̴xp̵ect͢e͠d ͠y͏o͞u t͢o͠ ͜tr̵y ̕m̸is̶sles̢ ̵next,͡ ̶r͝at҉her t͟ha̢n̴ ͝s̷e̡ndi̶ng t̛ho͟s̶e̶ flims͟y̛ b҉ox͏e̡s̡ of̛ ̢m̵e̵tal͜ y̨ou cal͞l \"t̨a̕nk͠s̕\".̀ I̵ ͏m͠u͞s҉t̴ ̢s̡ay̴ t҉h̶at̨ ̴i̴'͜m̧ diss͜a͏p̷oińted.̸\"\n\nTHe General straightened his stance, and responded with a serious look on his face: \"What do you want from us?\"\n\n\"͟Why͞,͟ m̛y͜ d̨ear҉ Ge̴nera͘l̕,͢ én͝t̀er̡tai̷n͏m҉e̕nt o͏f̧ ͢c͞ǫur͜s̶e̴! ҉A̶n͟d ̵s͡o͟ ̛f̛a͡r,̧ ͏y̢o͠u're҉ d͞oi̴n̸g a pre̢t҉t́y ̸bad̡ job ̀o̴f it̨!͟\"\n\nI looked in terror at the being that was to be our death. We realy should have mobilised a bigger army.", "YOU SEND A FUCKING TANK TO KILL A TANK! BESIDES SCP-3390 IS A FUCKING FRENCH TANK! THERE MILITARY SUCKED AT THAT TIME PERIOD.... Ummm DR. ██████.... I think your microphone is broadcasting.\n\nThe sounds of French music are heard in the background faintly.\n\nFuck my life. Ok Dr. ██████ get out of here. Me and the rest of security have this... Now where did I leave the AT-4\n\nAudio log end.\n\nIncident-3390-3\n\nSCP-3390 was found two days later with a damaged track, several holes from AT rounds and one confirmed AT rocket hit. Security force beta was found nearby seemingly shot to death, blown up, or in the case of commander ████████ run over three times by a tracked vehicle and left to bleed out, he had crawled 300 feet from where he was first his before the tank had seemingly went in for another round running over an arm, then the other as if it took it's time killing commander ████████. The light tank security had on hand was founded gutted from a point blank shot consistent with a cannon round from SCP-3390. Commander ████████ was later confirmed via blood test to be of recent German descendant, how this was overlooked is pending investigation, as commander ████████ was adopted it was he realize he didn't realize this himself.\n\nEnd log" ]	2
	[WP] You are an eldritch abomination masquerading as a psychology professor and your classes are popular. Today the paranormal containment agency stormed your class to capture you and your students are protecting you; turns out they not only knew what you were...but you're terrible at hiding it.	[ "Each step was calculated and formulated per ivory square of the tile floor. Is this what humans called anxiety? Professor Sushchestvo asked himself as he paced within his classroom. One false movement of his steps could lead to raised eyebrows from his students. It’s dry exterior left him sweating for balance.\n\n“Would anyone please explain to me in a summary of Phillip Zombaro’s Stanford experiment?” His chest tightened and he cleared his throat as the class sat in silence. \n\n“I can quote from it?” One student, Laila stated. \n\n“Sure!” Smiling and took a deep breathe, feeling a wave of almost heartburn come over him. \n\n“The line between good and evil is permeable and almost anyone can be induced to cross it when pressured by situational forces.” It was a moment to be proud of to recite from memory. \n\nProfessor Sushchestvo applauded her and continued on with his lecture. Within the next 15 minutes, a knock came to his door and he went to finish a glass of water.\n\n“...Are you getting the door?”\n\nHe heard from the back of the class of 30 students. \n\nCrrrrrrrrash! Suddenly, the door was kicked open from the outside and the window to the room smashed. 4 SWAT members and two detectives burst in holding low-grade guns, pointing them at everyone in the classroom.\n\n“EVERYONE BE QUIET!” They all screamed in unison. \n\nHe didn’t take it anymore, Professor Sushchestvo took off his glasses sitting them on the table. He removed his sport coat and quietly placed it on the surface. The team moved their directions to him, demanding he come quietly with them but he laughed in their faces. \n\nAlmost like a chameleon, the professor began to produce scales all over his body. His eyes turned bright yellow and he began sprouting the various teeth associated within his body. Turning his head to the side, pulling out one of his six tentacles from within his spine, he grabbed one SWAT officer and compressed his appendages. \n\n“I will be swallowing your...”\n\n“Hey professor!” One of his students cried out. They both looked at the crowd and two of the students he had stayed after class to tutor was holding a double barrel shotgun in his hands. He cocked it and pulled the gun back on his shoulder.\n\n“We’re gonna kick their fucking ass!”", "\"Anyone noticing anything?\" Professor Thotep asked.\n\nThe class was silent.\n\n\"I'll replay the [video](https://youtu.be/pnfudjQwjS8?t=1105) once more.\" Once it was finished, he reiterated: \"Who noticed something unusual?\"\n\nThere were a few chuckles from the audience. After playing it four more times, Professor Thotep was confident that most of the students knew what was going on. He asked one of the students in the front row what was odd about the video.\n\n\"The character in the second shot is not only a different person, he's wearing different clothes!\"\n\n\"That's exactly correct, and the time that it took many of you to notice this demonstrates humans' selective attention. This particular kind of selective attention is referred to as change blind--\"\n\nBefore Thotep could finish his sentence, officers wearing black masks and body armor with jet-packs flew through the windows on the East side of the room, and several armed with heavy shields and taser clubs burst through the front and back doors on the West side of the room.\n\nThe slender, cloaked figure at the front of the room released a cacophony which he had spent ten thousand years perfecting to sound like hundreds of men, women, and children being slowly crushed and burned to death. Intimidation tactics weren't going to work on the agency's elite officers, they knew exactly what the target of the mission was and they were prepared to handle it. However, there was one possibility that they hadn't considered.\n\nThe students had long anticipated that this would happen one day. The student body of the entire school had developed a tradition: if you find out that you have Nyarla Thotep as an instructor, you always bring something to class that could be used as a weapon.\n\nThe officers new that they had a formidable enemy before them, and were intensely focused on how to take Thotep down. So focused, in fact, that they didn't take note of the many students lifting baseball bats and tennis rackets. They didn't realize that it was strange for many college students to carry loose wires and convoluted apparati formed of hot-glue and plastic-wear in their backpacks, nor did they appear to care that they had already moved past a great number of students and that several of them had just thrown a rope across the main aisle.\n\nThe team of six officers who rushed in from the back door tripped without knowing why. Simultaneously, two students who had procured makeshift slingshots and fired at the heads of the officers with jet-packs, knocking them out. Seeing two of their allies fall convinced the remaining ten airborne officers that the target's psychic powers were stronger than the enchantments on their linen masks, so they began to charge the transforming beast. The third set of officers, who had gotten the closest to the target, realized what was going on, but it was too late because they had already passed enough students who were willing to knock them in the head with their equipment.\n\nMeanwhile in the main aisle, A few of the wire-wielding students had predicted the use of taser-clubs and had decided to bring highly insulative gloves. They quickly decided to wrap the wire around each of the downed officers' limbs and clubs. The guards were only down for a few seconds though, and the students only had time to entangle four of the officers before their recovery pulled wire out of the students' hands. One of the officers realizes that the students had tripped them and, infuriated, began to swing at the one closest to him; right before the blow connected, the officer made the mistake of also turning on the taser. All four the tangled guards fell back onto the floor, spasming as their clubs short-circuited and current ran through their bodies. The other two officers didn't last long as they were already surrounded by heavy-metal-object-wielding students. As the remainder collapsed, the students nabbed their shields and, along with the students who had defended the front door, ran to surround Professor Thotep.\n\nThe most experienced officer was at the front of the airborne officers, and he was ready to subdue the target regardless of how many shield-wielding children he had to knock down. He wasn't surprised when a student wielding a multi-pronged plastic fork spear jumped off of a desk right in front of him because he didn't even have time to register it. The spear went right through his face, but the momentum he had gained caused his corpse to keep flying, breaking the student's weapon.\n\nNine flying officers were still swarming about and dodging projectiles. They were able to fire a few shots at the giant atrocity that stood where the instructor once had, but the monster didn't seem to care. The slingshotters ran out of ammo, but the wire-wielders had just had a marvelous idea. They carefully wrapped their wire around the triggers of the remaining taser clubs and threw them at the flying officers. The first one missed, but the second one connected with one of the jet-pack fuel tanks. The explosion that followed was beyond what anyone was expecting. The blast knocked everyone to the floor and sent the remaining airborne officers flying towards the walls, knocking them out.\n\nAs the students recovered, ears still ringing, their instructor released a sound reminiscent of a mixture of nails and flesh being forced through a chalkboard tube by small, successive explosions.\n\n\"Excuse me, I was merely clearing my throat,\" explained the pile of eyes, claws, tentacles, and teeth. \"Had I anticipated that superb example of fatal selective attention that we just witnessed, I wouldn't have bothered showing the video that many times,\" it said in a voice that threatened the sanity of it's listeners. The horror began shrinking and retracting its many protuberances, eventually re-obtaining the form of a tall, emaciated, pale humanoid with an elongated skull and white eyes. \"Class dismissed.\"" ]	2
	[WP] World peace has been achieved by a ruler for a thousand years. You're part of a small crew getting ready to put an end to this tyranny.	[ "\"But, historically, wars and tensions are linked to great economic growth, while world peace is extremely taxing on those of us who produce well. If I make three dozen cookies, I want to decide how to share them. The way things are now, I have to share two dozen with my lazy siblings before I can think about it. It's unfair.\"\n\nElaine slurps her hot tea. I personally believe it is still simmering, and my nose curls at the prospect. \"At the cost of how many lives? Your toddler siblings are not yet capable of making cookies or dinner, and would starve without the help. You would rather them die so you can indulge and have another cookie?\" She frowns and gestures at my belly. \"It's not like you need it.\"\n\nI straighten my back in my seat and cross my arms over my stomach. \"So... our project won't get your approval?\"\n\nShe shakes her head. \"No, my eighth graders will not be overthrowing the government today. Find another project.\"", "Across the ages, mankind has wished for world peace and the end of wars. \n\nEntire fantasy worlds have been based off of this premise, with some more peaceful than others. Great writers and thinkers have spoken about the horrors that would crop up if the world devolved into an unending state of war and chaos. \n\nWorld peace has been the ideal lifted above all others, and the constant dream spouted off by every would-be intellectual. \n\nNothing could have prepared us for the true horrors of world peace. \n\nIt started as these things often do. The planet had devolved into a state of chaos. Countries constantly snapping at each other's throats, militaries endlessly expanding, newer and better weapons being developed every year. Nuclear winter was always on the horizon. \n\nDespite constantly fighting each other, no nuclear nation wanted to be the first to drop a bomb or launch a missile. Nobody wanted to go down in history as the person who kicked off the end of the world. \n\nThe only time nukes were used or even considered, was in response to terrorist incidents, and that was only when nuclear fallout would not effect the area in any significant way. Which by this point was quite a bit more land than you would think. \n\nThen he started to take the world stage. \n\nStrumming up support from all quarters, he stole entire political bases with his rhetoric. Powerful, passionate and charismatic, everyone fell in love with him, or hated his guts. There was no in between. \n\nIt was while we were all distracted with our pretty squabbling and his rise to fame that his people acted behind the scenes. \n\nIt was in October a few years later that everything changed. For years the media had been telling us that he was the threat to our way of life, but that wasn't the case. It was the people who believed in him despite all other evidence that were the dangerous ones. \n\nRising up the chain of command, it only took a thousand of them to be put in place across the world's armies before we were screwed. \n\nHolding the world at ransom, the nuclear silo operators, submarine captains, and more, anyone with access to nukes or with power to stop them were all holding their fingers on the buttons. \n\nThe demand was simple. \n\nOne emperor to rule the world, one military to enforce his rule answering only to him, or the world would be destroyed ten times over. They gave us a week to decide. We all signed the treaty before the end of the day. \n\nIt was said that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. I don't know if he was corrupted before or afterwards, but the emperor began passing horrifying edicts. \n\nSlavery was legalized, murder was demoted to a misdemeanor, blasphemy laws were put in place and made into felonies, work camps and concentration camps were created. The world was flipped on its head and we were all along for the ride. \n\nIt was shortly after his ascension and his first few edicts that the purges began. Anyone who disagreed, who agitated for change, who even began to wield a small amount of political or social power, they all were killed. \n\nChildren and babies were ripped from their parents and raised in institutions. Propogandized from birth, generations of children were turned into mindless drones. Fit only for the drudgery of work, or the gruesome art of death and oppression, for centuries his legacy stood standing as a testament to his will, and his mastery of the world. \n\nHowever they forgot a few things in their haste at the beginning. \n\nFrozen cryogenically since the early twenty first century, soldiers were cryofreezed as part of an experiment to see if costs could be reduced by mass freezing troops until needed. The problem was that freezing tended to cost more than was saved.\n\nSo they were forgotten in a small bunker in the antarctic, waiting endlessly for reawakening until one day, the power ran out. It being the antarctic, it took centuries after this for the temperature to rise enough to trigger the emergency protocols in the chamber and activate the emergency power. \n\nAfter getting the lay of the land, it was unanimously decided to reclaim the world and set free from the chains their descendents and heirs to their lines. \n\nToday, the forgotten few of the United States of America take back their country, reclaim their home and shatter the millenia of world peace by declaring war on the empire. \n\nWisdom of old says that one should not anger a good man, for their wrath is like no other's. Tyranny has always angered good men, and now the empire will understand why. They will understand why not even the devil, if he exists, would pick a fight like this. \n\nDemons run when a good man goes to war. Now we'll see what happens when a battalion of them do. \n\nMay God have mercy on all who oppose them. " ]	2
	[WP] You're walking through your house to your kitchen when suddenly you feel like you're frozen in time. Everything around you keeps moving, no one notices you've stopped but you can't move.	[ "Day 150 - I actually don’t know what day it is anymore, I lost count, but this seems to be a fair number. I am sure it has been at least this long because the birds have stopped their early morning chirping festivals and snow is beginning to fall outside, I can see it through the late 70’s era pane glass windows that hang adjacent to the rickety refrigerator in the corner of what used to be my kitchen. You might be confused as to what I mean by “used to be” my kitchen. To my knowledge my name is still on the lease till summer and I certainly have not signed the proper paper work to remove myself from said lease. Before you start throwing around wild accusations, no I am not a ghost, or at least I don’t think I am.... Fuck me I have absolutely no idea what I am so I am just as confused as you, whoever you are. How I am even having this conversation with you? It defies everything I have ever been taught! From school, from life, from friends, from my parents and anything else in this world that gave me knowledge. I have been stuck here for what seems like an eternity! Yet you casually stroll into my direct view and make eye contact? They don’t even seem to notice you and trust me... I have already accepted the fact they do not notice me. How can you see me? How can you hear me? I’m not even capable of moving my mouth but somehow it feels like I am talking to you! It feels like my head is going to explode!!! A somewhat comfortable feeling seeing as how I have not felt anything for a long time now. Sigh... Enough! I am tired of looking into the empty void of where your eyes should be! Tell me right here right now what the hell is going on? Tell me who you are!" ]	1
	[WP] A corrupt warden is arrested and sent to his own jail. However, the government forgot to fire him, so he's still technically the warden.	[ "You would think that my current predicament is every man's dream. A man imprisoned in a place where everyone knows him. A place that he has spent countless hours grooming to his liking. A place ran by people he had meticulously instilled fear into to deter any thoughts of ever turning on him and exposing his drug smuggling ring.\n\nYou would be wrong. The warden's new life was a hell like no other. He was confined to spend the better part of the rest of his life surrounded by people who had spent years passing the time by day-dreaming about the brutal ways to punish him for create false reports that lengthened their sentence. Initially, he had hoped that the fear they had once had of him would carry over to his new way of life. \n\nThe warden was brutally reminded of the flaw in his way of thinking. Despite not having anything change about who he was, the damage to the way he was perceived by his former colleagues could not be undone. Once viewed as a fierce boss who would crush any and all resistance and instill the harshest punishments onto those who so much as dared question his motives; he had been reduced to nothing but an orange jumpsuit and a number. His former employees viewed him the way that people view a dog that has recently been castrated to correct its aggressive behavior. A shadow of his former self. \n\nHe stuffed his blanket into his mouth to stifle his tears. Deep down he knew this was the final stretch of his life. He would die here. Alone.\n\nAs the warden sat alone in his cell, he could feel the hope draining from his body until there was hardly a sliver left. He hung his head in defeat as he realized that the place he had so carefully constructed with the purpose of draining the hope of a better future from all its residents was now working the same effect on him. He was no different from anyone else there. A man trapped in a prison of his own sins. ", "\"Count!\" \n\nA corrections officer with a clipboard stood at the far end of the cell block. His back was ramrod straight and when he spoke he invariably screamed. \n\n\"Count!\" He yelled again and began his journey along the block perimeter. \n\nAs he passed by a cell its occupants, three men, sometimes four, were expected to be standing up straight at the entrance. \n\nThe officer passed the first cell, a space about the size of a glorified closet filled almost completely with four beds. The four men who lived together in that ridiculous small space stood lined up down the thin center aisle between bunks. \n\nAs the officer passed all four men yelled out \"Counted!\" In response, the officer made his tally and shut the steel bars loudly. \"Lights Out.\"\n\nThree times a day they had a count, and once every night at 9 pm that count ended with lights out. The four men in that cell climbed onto their bunks, shut off their central light and got ready to sleep, whether they were tired or not. \n\nThis chain of events repeated down one side of the block and then up the other. Prisoners yelling \"counted,\" a note on the officer's pad, and \"lights out.\" \n\nIt continued this way until the last cell. Here the officer approached hesitantly. When he got to the cell he looked inside and saw that the prisoner wasn't standing, waiting for the count.\n\n In fact, he wasn't in the cell at all. It was empty.\n\n\"Shit.\" The officer sighed to himself and picked up his radio. \"Anyone got eyes on the warden?\" \n\nHis radio clicked a couple of times and then a voice came on. \"Yeah, I got eyes.\" \n\n\"Is this Murray?\" The officer asked. \"Where is he?\"\n\nMurray hesitated and then the radio came alive again, \"he, uh, wanted to take a walk, sir.\"\n\nJesus, The officer pursed his lips and looked inside the single occupant cell. It was gorgeous. The concrete walls were painted a beautiful maroon color. There was one horsehair twin mattress, a small couch, and a giant flat screen TV that took up the entire far wall. A collection of video game systems piled up under the TV, beside the personal mini-fridge and alcohol cabinet. \n\nThis cell was probably the single biggest security risk in the entire prison. For all intents and purposes, it was made of contraband. Other prisoners frequently hung out in there with the warden and came out aggressively drunk, sometimes even high. \n\nAnd there was nothing any of the staff could do. Even though the warden had been convicted of ten counts of fraud and conspiracy, even though he was serving a 15-year sentence, somehow he remained the warden of the prison. He was going on his third year post-sentence, and still, his termination letter had not arrived, and neither had a replacement. \n\nThe result was a night like tonight. The other prisoners loved and resented the warden, in equal measure. Tonight, the officer was fairly certain it was going to be the latter. \n\nHe pressed the transmit button on his radio again, turning away from the opulent cell. \"A walk where?\" \n\nAnother period of radio silence and then it clicked once again and Murray's voice came through. \"Uh, I-95\"\n\n\"You're walking on the highway?\"\n\nMurray paused. \"Uh, nossir. Boss wanted to take a walk, in, uh, Disneyworld, sir. We're driving him down there.\"\n\nThe nearby cells could hear the chatter on the radio. Their occupants began whistling and heckling. \"Shit, when I'm getting a field trip?\" Then one inmate began slamming on the door to his cell rhythmically. \n\n\"Field trip! Field trip! Field trip!\"\n\nThe rest of the inmates soon took up the chant until the whole block was chanting it in an act of brazen disobedience. \n\nFrustrated, the Officer pressed the button on his radio and held it up so Murray could hear. \n\n\"You hear that Murray. Make sure the warden hears that. This is the shit he's forcing us to deal with!\" The officer yelled into the radio over the chaos.\n\nThere was another pause and then Murray came on again. \"Uh, copy that sir. Warden says, and sorry sir, but he says to 'get your house in order or it's your ass.' Sir.\"\n\nThe officer gaped at the radio for a long time. The hell with it he thought at last. Tossing his clipboard into the air, he sent one last message. \"Murray, do me a favor and tell the boss to go fuck himself.\"\n\nThen the officer tossed the radio too, walked out the main block entrance, through the screaming insanity of the inmates chanting. On the way out, stopping in the command center before changing into his street clothes once and for all, the officer opened every cell in the facility. \n\nThe video surveillance showed the cell doors sliding open and then hundreds of angry prisoners racing out and making a beeline for the warden's beautiful abode. \n\nAs the prisoners tore it up, and vandalized the hell out of it, the officer allowed himself a satisfied smile and walked off the grounds for the last time. \n\n******\n#### For More Legends From The Multiverse\n### r/LFTM\n" ]	2
	[WP] You inherit an old chest from your grandparents, it's turned into a mimic	[ "You begin the long haul home from your grandparents’ house, hoisting the huge chest along behind you.\nHad you known his would be what you would end up taking home maybe you’d have driven. Of course, the genius you are, you decided to walk because fitness, or whatever.\nThe chest is weirdly heavy. But you haven’t opened it in case something gross or important is in there, it doesn’t appear to have a lock, but there is a short chain dangling from one end, maybe that’s got something to do with keeping it shut. You can’t tell, but regardless, here you are; dragging the chest along the footpath by the chain.\nThe day gets even weirder when someone in full plate armour wanders by, before stopping at the sight of the chest, pointing at you, and then a nearby alleyway. He holds his hands up in a non threatening manner, as though to reassure he isn’t going to steal it. Hell. What have you got to lose? Until today you didn’t even know this chest existed, you’d never seen it before, it’s not like you’d really miss it if he did steal it. You drag it over to the alleyway that he’s now stretched out starfish-style in. As you bring it over, he slowly gets up and walks with you to the end of the shadowed lane. Dropping on the ground, you ask him “so what’s up with the chest.”\nHe says slowly “the chain”\n“What about it?”\n“Something’s off about it, I’ve seen it before.”\n“Right,” you say, beginning to doubt this guy, “well how about I open it up and show you there’s nothing valuable in there?”\nAs you bend over to open it, he begins to protest, but before he can warn you, the top flings itself open, revealing two long, greyish arms and scores of sharp, curved teeth. It grabs you round the shoulders, pulling you in, landing a bite straight into your midriff, then a second one. The pain is almost blinding. You brave for a third bite but instead there’s a rush of air passes your left ear and the chest thrown you back out. Using its arms to push itself onto feet that you’re sure weren’t there before. It moves to deal a hefty kick to the armoured man, but he rolls out of the way effortlessly, brandishing a long sword and swiping it at its legs. It goes to grab him, presumably to tear him to pieces in its wooden jaws, he dodges again and continues to cut at it. It falls, letting out a defeated creak before dropping and fading away. The armoured man picks up a shard of glass covered in a thick, golden liquid. “Who-what..” you stutter “the fuck is going on?” You manage to get out. He drops a second long sword in front of him “my name is Big Boy,” he says “but I’d prefer you call me “Ashen One”.” He pauses, before adding “take the sword, that is... if you’re up for a bit of adventure..”" ]	1
	[WP] As you boot up your PC, you hear a tiny "meow" instead of the usual hum.	[ "\"Oh no.\"\n\nI looked down just in time to see a dark tail swing out of sight. The screen remained dark and I pushed on the button, only to hear another, a bit more demanding meow.\n\n\"Sweetie, what have you doooooooooone,\" I groaned and pushed the chair out of the way. \"How the fuck, baby, you're not that small anymore.\"\n\nA twitch of motion and I could barely see an eye reflect the dim light back at me.\n\n\"How did you get in there, Bitch?\" I cooed and started unscrewing the box open. \"You're momma's little asshole, yes you are. Momma has to do human things, like pay the bills and the rent. Can't do that with you in there, doll.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Most serial killers are in fact part of a time-travelling vigilante organization that kills evil people before they can commit the atrocities they otherwise would have.	[ "Marcus was out of breath and close to colapsing. \"I cant be late, can't be late... can't be... late...\" he mumbled as he continued running. There had been a problem with the time machine, he appeared in the wrong country, 32 years late. It was the first time the agents had sent someone so far back in time, they had done some mistakes in their calculations. \n\nThey had thought a lot about killing him. They had to. His death was going to inspire horrible regimes, burning people alive, horrendous conquests... So they had to kill him when he was young...\n\nMarcus had killed hundreds before, and his fellow tangents did too, through various disguises: Jack the ripper, H. H. Holmes, Elisabeth Battery, The Zodiac Killer... But this one was their most important mission yet. Marcus was chosen for it, he had to succeed, they couldn't send him a second time. \n\nHe had never thought twice about his killings but this one was making his hands shake. He was so close. He was seconds away. He didn't know what time it was. He had to stop him before that faithful day. He should have a day or so didn't he? \n\nMarcus arrived to his destination but fell on his knees immediately. His gun fell from his hand. His eyes watered up. He fell flat on his face.\n\"Its too late...\" He mumbled with his last breath, the shadow of Jesus on his crucifix setting on his body. ", "Ahhh it feels good to make the world a better place, Jack thought as he felt her blood running down the back of his hand. He had sliced almost ear to ear across her throat leaving a gruesome wound. Mary Ann was her name, Jack didnt much care though, he was just doing his job. \n\nHe justified it to himself thinking, \"She was going to be the death of the Royal Family..., well, where they caught AIDS at least.\"\n\nJack was an agent of the throne. He didnt like thinking about why his targets had been chosen he just knew that they had been chosen. Jack loved his job, he didnt need to know much more than that.\n\nAs he felt the last drops of life slipping from Mary he let her fall to the ground and checked his phone. The vibration he had felt earlier had disrupted his festivities, and he wanted to know who dared text him at work.\n\n\"Fuck\", Jack thought, \"It's the boss.\"\n\nAs Jack read the text he smiled. Another name. He cackled as he thought of the work to come.", "The needle was primed; the time was near.\n\n\"Any last words?\" the executioner asked.\n\nThe man sneered. \"People will always look upon you with a frown. You are the man who murders with the law at his back. You belong neither with those who kill, nor those who walk the streets in day. And so no-one will truly care for you. But me... well, I may burn in the flames of hell, but I will be joined by all those who came before. I will never be alone.\"\n\nThe executioner shrugged as he raised the needle. \"Actually...\"" ]	3
	[WP] Human civilization continues to grow and advance rapidly. We colonize the galaxy and discover the secrets of the universe. Finally, mankind discovers the one final bridge that we can't cross.	[ "Countless eons ago, man looked at the crackling fire and pondered if he would live to see tomorrow. So he built shelter and tools, and tamed the land so that he and his family could survive. Countless eons ago, man looked to the horizon and pondered what lay beyond it. So he built boats, and tamed horses so he could travel the world and see for himself.\n\nCountless eons ago, man looked at another man and pondered if the other man would hurt him. So he built weapons and armor to protect and attack as needed. Countless eons ago, man looked at a wounded man and pondered if the other man could be saved. So he developed medicine, and surgery, and therapy to save the other man's life.\n\nCountless eons ago, man had explored the Earth, and unified the nations. So he turned his gaze skyward, and pondered what lay beyond the horizon once more. So he built ships capable of reaching the stars, and built homes there and everywhere.\n\nEons ago, countless men looked at data readouts and discovered how the universe would end. So with all they had done before, all they had made, they stopped the end and became truly immortal. Life flourished anew, celebrations were had. Songs were written, stories told.\n\nBut, as man soon learned, there are not countless stories and songs. There are only so many ways that notes can be arranged on a page, only so many patterns of letters to fit in a book. Man became desperate. Cacophonous wails and jumbled masses of letters masquerading as songs and stories were met with awards and applause simply for being new. Man wept countless tears with each new publication, knowing they were one step closer to running out of creativity.\n\nNow, man has reached the absolute, and he weeps. Everything that can be done has been done. Everything but one, one that in a final moment of creativity sealed the fate of man for all eternity.\n\nMan looked upon what countless eons before he would have called God, and destroyed it, becoming it, and with the end of the God came the end of the universe. With that end, man travelled back in time, to begin one final song.\n\nCountless eons ago, God looked upon an empty universe and found it wanting. So he began to sing. He sang, knowing he would never reach the final note of the song, destined to die countless eons in the future: Let there be light...\n\nAs man gazed into the crackling fire and pondered of he would live to see tomorrow, he did not know that that exact moment had happened countless times before, and would happen countless times in the future. So he built shelter and tools, and tamed the land so that his family could survive, just as he had countless times long forgotten." ]	1
	[WP] You’ve awoken in a world where demons plague the land, a strange amalgamation of knights with high tech weapons... with the gods also appearing as Knights... and you’ve attracted the interest of the ruler of the abyss himself	[ "Well thats it. You're getting dizzy. Everything is getting cold, and dark. But there is also a strange tranquility overcoming you. You decide maybe its not bad an end. You've done a lot of bad things in your few decades of life, even before this war started. There is unspeakable and unmemorable amounts of blood on your hands. Well the blood on them right now is your own, trying to keep from bleeding out around the lance currently lodged in your stomach. But.. while you dont think you will be earning any paradise in the afterlife, at least you saved the girl. You saw her escape. You didnt let your fellow knights just slaughter her and you're proud your final act in life could save an innocent. Ahh, time to sleep.\n\n------------------------\n\nAnd then you wake up. Your mind is spinning and vision blurred. You seem to be on a dias made of blood red granite. In front of you are a dozen 'men' dressed in dark clothing and wearing masks. They are kneeling in a circle facing towards a flaming brazier, their black claws and red skinned hands cupped together and quiet chanting barely heard from behind the masks. The chanting gets louder as the flame shoots up then all goes quiet as it extinguishes. At least until pain courses through your entire being and you scream out. You raise your hands to see flesh slowly forming around skeletal remains. After a few minutes your new body is fully formed, though you are no longer human. Your skin looks like theirs. Blood red. Your finger tips end in claws. And as you raise your hand up to your head you feel the protrusion of horns.\n\n\"So you have finally awakened.\" \n\nA deep and ominous voice booms out from behind you, though strangely you feel no malice from it. As you lift your head the dozen men are gone. A large set of double doors on the wall past them are wide open and the tallest demon you've ever seen is standing in that door way. Dressed in pristine black slacks, a royal purple vest with gold trim and bone white sleeves you have no doubt the regal figure in front of you is the Demon Lord.\n\nBut its actually not his figure that draws your attention the most. Standing quietly behind him you see a woman dressed in simpler robes and wearing talismans, bracelets, and brooches engraved in runic symbols belonging to a sorceress. Obviously a demon herself, you cant shake the feeling you know her. You've seen her before. And then you remember. The girl. The last thing you did in life was save a kidnapped demon girl you found after hearing your fellow knights were going to publicly torture and kill her. She looked no older than a human child and you had to rescue her. It cost you your life. Is this her older sister or mother? The woman in front of you looks similar but must be in her 20s at least.\n\nThe Demon Lord clears his throat to gain your attention.\n\n\"I see you recognize her. I have you to thank that she still lives. War may be war, but even demons dont kill the children of our enemies. My daughter informed me of what was planned for her and that it was you who smuggled her out of the human kingdom even with your fellow humans chasing you down. The war ended 5 years after that. We won. I apologize it took another 10 years to find your soul and rescue it from purgatory. But you've been restored now as a reward. And now we need to talk business.\"\n\nThe 'girl', the Demon Lords daughter suddenly turns even redder. Obviously aware of what is about to be discussed and slightly embarrassed by it and turns her face away but not in time to hide the fact she is blushing.\n\n\"I've ruled long enough. A Demon Lord is always succeeded by their oldest child on the day of that childs wedding. SO. What would you like to wear for your wedding, son-in-law?\"" ]	1
	[WP] - A group of armed terrorists are terrorizing their hostages into submission. You are one of the hostages. And little did anyone know : Terror... is your field of expertise.	[ "It was just supposed to be a normal day at the bank for me. But, of course, nothing is ever normal around here. Before we knew it, a group of thugs was holding us all hostage.\n\n“We’re the Watchdogs,” The man in charge said through his mask, “we’re taking all the money you have!” He threw some duffle bags at the cashiers.\n\nGreat I thought terrorists.\n\nAs the frightened cashiers quickly stuffed the bags full of cash, I heard him in the back of my head. You’re Deathbolt. You can take these guys. For the first time in a while, I listened to it.\n\n“Hey, you guys,” I shouted, “you’re that terrorist group, aren’t you?”\n\n“That’s just what the fascist media calls us,” the lead man answered, “They just wanna label us so they can write us off. But we’re proud of that. The more afraid people are, the more they listen to you. So, yeah, we’re terrorists.”\n\n“I was hoping you’d say that,” I said. My eyes flashed, and I began to tap into [the power.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/8348wd/comment/dvf68gm?st=JKZD4YP9&sh=3d51e16e)\n\nThe lightning shield formed around me. I felt it expand even as the guards watched me with fear in their eyes. I began to levitate off the ground as my power grew greater and greater. Deathbolt’s voice came from my mouth.\n\n”You want terror?” He said. The guards all stood there, shell-shocked. Deathbolt grinned, taking in their fear.\n\n”Come and get it.”" ]	1
	[WP] You are out for a walk in the woods with your dog. He suddenly starts barking at something that you cannot see. You approach it, only to find an exact clone of yourself as a child.	[ "The Child\n—\n\nThe dog barks louder than the crashing of the impending storm, breaking me from my mulled contemplations. Our walks serve as a time for me to let my inner demons loose. They tear into me without mercy for everything I’ve done. For everything I am.\n\nI let the dog guide me. No, drag me. The moment he feels me turn to follow he quiets and begins to run. Into the dark wood beside the road. Deeper still, until the streetlights are but a memory.\n\nHe slows, finally, as we approach a clearing. The moon is bright. Brighter than the lights we’ve left behind.\n\nThe rain begins at last, a gentle mist that shrouds the earth, and for the first time I see her. She is so small. Naked, filthy and cold. The dog nudges my hand and I stumble forward. She trembles but somehow is not afraid.\n\nI fall to my knees before her, drinking in her soulful eyes. I cannot bring myself to look away.\n\nLike a mirror I reach for her and she reaches for me. Our fingertips touch. It is raining a bit harder now so it’s difficult to know exactly when the tears begin to fall.\n\nThe sound of a tiny racking sob breaks our captivation and I pull her against me, wrapping her tightly in my arms. She clings to me with an intensity born of desperation. She is small but she is strong. There is a fire inside of her.\n\nI stroke her hair and cuddle her close. And as the words “I love you” fall from my lips, the rain stops and she is gone.\n\nI stand slowly. I have no desire to look for her, to find her. I know where she has gone. I can feel her. My arms are empty but my heart is full. For the first time in my life the demons in my head are still.\n\nI turn to see the dog watching with patient eyes. He comes to my side. He leads me home." ]	1
	[WP] You walk into a new optometrist in town to get your eyes tested. The test seems a bit odd, but you go along with it. You come away happy, with your nice new pair glasses. A few hours later you begin to notice something strange about them.	[ "\"I'm sorry, ma'am, but Dr. May is temporarily absent. I will be replacing him for the following week.\"\n\nHuh. That seems kind of odd. Dr. May has never been absent, not even once, for the past 15 years since I've been his patient.\n\n\"Of course, he gave me your medical report, and I will do your routine check up.\" \n\n\"This new doctor is kind of nice. I already like him\", I thought to myself. He had this strange approach, but for some reason I found it pretty endearing.\n\n\"I need you to look straight into my eyes\", he said, right after preparing me to get my eyes tested. \n\nWhat? I've never had to do that while Dr. May was here. But I guess each one has their own way. I felt so good looking into his bright, grey eyes. As if they were hypnotizing. I felt vunerable, but more importantly, I also felt trusting. He could've placed a blade straight through my brain and I would have...\n\nWait. What the hell?\n\n\"Done! You were very brave, Mrs Johnson\", he said charmingly, \"I wouldn't even guess it was your first time with me. People usually get... How would I say it? Uncomfortable.\"\n\n\"And why is that?\", I asked.\n\n\"I've never been able to figure it out myself, either.\"\n\nOn my way to work, I was still wearing my contacts. I still wasn't used to having something on my face, and I figured I'd practice wearing glasses at home. I was still very worried that I might get my lense stuck in my eye like the last time, which was the reason I was getting glasses in the first place. Sure, I might look like a nerd in my 30s, but at least I won't cry on my own wedding! Gosh, I hope no one remembers that...\n\n\"Glasses!\", I heard a loud male voice, approaching my desk.\n\n\"Hey, Gill! Yeah, I figured I might get them, just in case. Still kind of traumatized since that wedding incident\", I said jokingly.\n\n\"Well, go ahead! Put them on!\", Gill was persistent.\n\nAs I put the glasses on, something strange happened. My entire body shivered with cold, even though it had to be at least 25°C inside. I looked at Gill and I saw...\n\n\"How many fingers do you see?\", a familiar voice laughed. The problem is, even though the voice was familiar, I had no idea whose face that was. Terrified, I took the glasses off and threw them on the desk.\n\n\"Hey, what's wrong? Donna?\"\n\nI checked the time. 4 pm already.\n\n\"I need to go.\"\n\nAs I was driving home, I felt chills down my spine once again. I didn't know what the hell just happened, but what I surely knew was that I'm never putting those glasses, ever again.\n\nBut seems like destiny had another plan.\n\nNot even halfway there, I was squinting my eyes. For some reason, I couldn't see clearly anymore, not even with my lenses. I stopped the car, took my lenses out and screamed.\n\nMy entire sight was unbelievably blurry.\n\n\"I can't see! Come get me, please! David! I'm at the.. I don't know, God, just get here! I don't even know where I am, I can't see shit! Please\", I was screaming on the phone with my husband. I had no idea what was going on. I was absolutely terrified, and it seemed as if my sight was getting worse as minutes passed.\n\n\"No way you're putting those glasses on\", I was scolding myself, \"it's all their fault anyway. That fucking doctor.. I should have known. But I can't stand like this anymore. What if David passes me by? I need to be able to at least wave at him, which is impossible, unless I see at least something.\"\n\nI cowardly put the glasses on. To my surprise, my sight was perfect.\n\n\"Thank fucking God.\"\n\nHalf an hour passed. David was supposed to be here already. What if he didn't see me, and passed on? What if...\n\nAn unknown man grabbed me by my waist. \n\nScreaming, I tried to fight him away, scared for my life. What was scaring me even more was his yelling, which started surpassing my own screams. Soon, the voice started sounding familiar.\n\n\"Donna! Calm down, baby, what happened?!\"\n\nDavid. David?! That can't be David. It looks nothing like him! David has brown, curly hair, green eyes and pale skin. This man is ginger, and he has a beard. Who the fuck is this? What the fuck is going on?!\n\n...\n\n\"I need to see that doctor again.\"\n\nI was looking at \"David\" with firm expression on my face. After I told him everything, I was absolutely sure that he was going to call me insane, but I didn't care. It wasn't even David, for fuck's sake!\n\n\"I'll give you a ride.\"\n\nI was surprised. Did this stranger with David's voice actually believe me? Or was it just an attempt to try to lure me into a trap, kill me, and sell my eyes, or whatever? I didn't care at all. If I was losing my mind, I might as well lose it completely.\n\n\"He had greyish hair. Mid 40s. Grey eyes. Very, very specific eyes. Tall, with high cheek bones. But focus on the eyes. Dr. May has ordinary brown ones.\" I was describing the doctor to \"David\", hoping he'd recognize him, since I definitely couldn't, \"I don't remember his name. I'm not even sure he told me.\"\n\nWhen we came to the reception, I looked at the red-haired woman I have never seen before and asked her to see the doctor who was replacing Dr. May for the week. I was his patient, Donna Johnson. \n\n\"Just a moment\", she said, and started typing something on the computer. A few moments later, she turned around and said:\n\n\"I'm sorry, Mrs. Johnson. It must be some mistake. Dr. May is here. He doesn't have anyone replacing him at the moment.\"\n\n\"He's back already?\", I asked, in shock.\n\n\"No, ma'am. He hasn't left at all.\"\n\nMy entire body trembled. T-That's not possible.\n\nI demanded to see him anyway, and took \"David\"'s hand. The nurse at the reception said that only I, as a patient, am allowed to go in. I normally wouldn't be able to do that either, but since I had an appointment today, they made a pass. \"David\" wouldn't let me go on my own, but I made him wait for me outside.\n\nI was scared like never before, while going inside his office. As I walked in, a tall man was standing there, facing the window.\n\n\"Dr. May?\", I said quietly.\n\n\"Mrs. Johnson!\", the man turned around. Sharp grey eyes looked straight into my soul.\n\n\"I can see that your glasses are serving you just fine!\" " ]	1
	[wp] you live in a reality where twins, fraternal or maternal, can feel each other's pain. You are a single child. Yet one day you feel a sudden sharp pain in your chest.	[ "\"Fuck.\"\n\n\"Everything ok?\"\n\n\"Hun do you know what being punched in the jaw feels like?\" \n\n\"No. I'll get you an asprain when we get home. \"\n\nMy wife kisses my cheek as we walk hand in hand back from the neareby diner. But by the time we get home, the pains gone. I shrug it off and cuddle up to my wife, falling asleep in the couch...\n\n\"Craig...Craig wake up, wake up. \"\n\nI slowly open my eyes, my wife looks panicked the tv is paused on some Netflix show about mysterious injuries or something. I sit up and rub my eyes. \n\n\"It better be important.\"\n\n\"Just watch.\"\n\nI look at the tv and my jaw drops. The person on the screen looks just like me, but with glasses. \n\n\"I've pinched myself like five times and this isn't a dream. I thought you were an only child?\"\n\n\"I-I am...press play. What's his injury?\"\n\n\"I don't know, he just popped up.\"\n\nShe pushes the play button. He describes an incident where suddenly in school his knee was on fire and felt like it was twisted inside. He wasn't sure what had happened. The pani went down he said but he was still sore and the doctors couldn't find anything wrong. \n\nMy wife and I stare at the screen at a lost for words. He said he was in fourth grade at the time...I dislocated my knee playing baseball in fourth grade. They always said twins can feel each other's pain...but I don't have a twin...or at least not that I knew of.\n" ]	1
	[WP] In our near future, there's a gel that works as a bio conductor for injuries. But it quickly became popular in court, where murder victims could be re animated for 24 hours and testify against their killer. You awake on the slab. Remembering your own death. Staff is away for coffee.	[ "Raw, dizzying pain shot from my temples to the center of my eyeballs when I tried to open them up. I shut them and more pain throbbed from around my orbitals. I immediately felt dizzy, and wanted to puke, but I was laying face up and wasn't sure I could move. \n\nIt took me a moment to reorient myself, to recall everything that had transpired for the past 36 hours. I remember the shooter, cold and ruthless. I remember his boss, ordering him to \"Kill this stupid motherfucker.\" before walking out of the room. I don't remember any sound, just a flash and then nothing. I know why I'm here. \n\nI breath in and hold for six seconds then breathe out for 5. I repeat this as many times as it took for the nausea to die down, and for the dizziness in my head to subside. I tried my muscles and got back nothing but more pain. It started in my spine and branched out to every cell in my body like millions of tiny needle jabbed into me then super-heated with a car battery.\n\nI slowly keep breathing, my breathes are now 9 seconds in, 7 seconds hold and 7 out. The pain slowly turns from fire and electric jabbing to a dull throbbing. By the time the muscles, nerves and fibers that had made up my living body had started to simply ache, I tried sitting up. \n\nI wondered where everyone is. Usually, there would be a few attendants as well. Not to mention police and possibly other interested parties. This could be bad, I wasn't sure. I tried not to let it bother me and focused on the task at hand. Even if velociraptors came charging through the door it didn't matter if I couldn't move. \n\nLifting my head off the table hurt like a bitch. Raising my shoulders up and getting propped up on my elbows made me feel like I'd torn all my skin off my entire back and arms. My fingers were pins and needles when I for to my hands and when I turned to hang my legs off the edge of the operating table made the nausea come back and I did throw up all over my lap and chest. Thick, black gooey stuff that resembled no throw up I'd ever seen before. \n\nI tried to slowly slide my way off the table when the door opened and my eardrums felt like they were bleeding when I heard, \"Holy shit! Doc! He's UP!\" and a bunch of footsteps from down some hall. \n\nI tried to turn to the guard and did my best to say \"Hey, how are ya?\" which came out as a barely audible whisper that sounded nothing like English. I don't think he heard me. Officer John C Petty, I later found out his name, and Doctor Qhilip K. Gry ran into the room and quickly placed their coffee mugs on the black counter top next to a sink came over and got beneath each arm, both supporting me and holding me in place. My black puked guts stained Doc Q's white doctor's coat. \n\n\"Whoa there, big guy, (I'm 160cm, 70kg) where do you think you're going?\"\n\nThey hoisted me up higher and farther back on the table. My ass and sides burned as they moved me. \n\n\"Fuck you\" I was surprised at how loud this came out. It startled all three of us. \n\n\"Hey now, mister, just try and calm down. We're trying to help you here.\" the officer said in a mildly forceful and disapproving tone. I apologized and we moved me back to a laying position. The Doc Q ran a series of tests, while Officer Petty hung by the door, leaned against the frame and tried chatting with first the doctor and then me. I lay, mostly silent on the table, followed the good doctor's instructions and planned about what I was going to do now when the door opened again. \n\nA tall thin man in a grey business suit with a black tie and badge on his chest came striding through as he opened the door. Officer Petty jumped to his feet and to the side, out of the way of the newcomer. He had tight cropped, thinning white hair, large golden eyebrows and wrinkles around his forehead and mouth. Small, heavily lidded eyes made it hard to see them when he squinted as he did when he walked in. \n\n\"Why, hello there.\" ", "My torso springs forward instinctively, leaving me sitting upright on the cold slab of cushion they call a bed. I feel as though I’ve just awoke from a deep slumber, but this time, I have no recollection of getting into my Tempurpedic the night before. If I had been sleeping, I would have risen bright and early, feeling cozy under my blanket and re-energized and ready for the day ahead of me.\n\nI feel none of these things now. My body is much colder than it should be and my vision is hazy. I try to start walking towards the door in front of me but my legs aren’t cooperating. For 49 years of my life I’ve walked on my own two feet everyday, and now I’m struggling to wiggle my toes or make any attempt to get off of the table I’m sitting upon. \n\nNo use fighting what I can’t control. What happened to me? Why am I here? Where is here?\n\nI’d say it’s been about four minutes since I came to and my vision is finally clearing up. Using my only available sense I glance around the room I find myself in and search for answers to my questions. The room is in pristine condition and I begin to notice all of the machines and devices surrounding me. I must be in a hospital, I conclude, given the state of cleanliness around me and the equipment that looks like it was made for some sort of surgery. \n\nThinking aloud, I start to say “Jesus Christ, what on Earth happened to me?” but all I could muster was the first syllable followed by moaning. I can’t move, I can’t speak, and it might just be awfully quiet, but if I’m three for three then I probably can’t hear anything either. I fight the urge to panic and continue assessing my situation by searching for more clues. The room and its medical equipment probably hold all of the answers I seek, but I’m no doctor, therefore the purpose of these machines are all unknown to me. However, I do notice a label printed on the side of a large cylindrical tank that reads, “Biological Re-Animation Compound. Handle with Care”\n\nIt finally registers in my brain: “Holy Fucking Shit! I was re-animated!? I can’t believe this! Wait, if I was re-animated then that means....” Suddenly, memories flood my cerebral cortex and I recall everything about my death. The memories came to me like a movie that I was watching, but instead of watching a television screen, I just saw everything happening through my eyes again as if I was there, reliving the past. The initial blast to the past was painful and gave me the feeling of a pounding migraine, then suddenly, the movie-like memory began playing from when I first met my killer, and my brain simulated all the emotions I felt back when I was alive.\n\nDr. Hoffman was his name. Or just Jamie, as I used to know him by. We were never really friends, but we were close colleagues. We had been teaching Quantum Physics to the youth of Harvard for quite some time. Teaching is by no means a rewarding profession. It offers a plethora of nuisances such as unbelievably naive students and a salary that doesn’t allow for much “splurging,” but aside from that I deeply enjoyed what I did. I was a damn good professor and I loved conversing with like-minded peers about the mysteries of our universe. \n\nAs the memories returned to my mind, so did my senses. While lying on my back and recalling my past, I could begin to hear the familiar “Tick-Tock” of a clock nearby. Just as my vision slowly returned, my hearing began to follow suite. Still unable to move and overwhelmed with emotions, I opted to continue lying on my back and recall my past.\n\nDr. Jamie Hoffman joined our team of nerds in 2025. The day he arrived, coincidentally, marked my 7th year as “Senior Physics Professor” and my 15th year teaching at Harvard. He seemed.... off, to say the least, when I first met him. However, he soon proved to me that he had a bright mind and a peaked interest in the unknown, like myself.\n\nA year or so passed with Jamie on our team, and he began to show excessive interest in heavy theoretical physics. He became obsessed with his own self-created theories of teleportation via molecular deconstruction and reconstruction. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Many great minds have pondered about instantaneous travel from point A to B, and many of those great minds maintained that molecular reconstruction was the key to successful teleportation. The difference between those great minds and Dr. Hoffman was, none of those great minds were willing to go as far as Dr. Hoffman was willing.\n\nJamie had showed me his schematics and theories before, and consulted me often. Of course he was something of a genius but, then again, so was I, so he would gladly ask me to check his calculus and chemistry for flaws. His plans were too precious and sensitive to be delayed by arithmetic errors and he greatly feared failure. After countless meetings with myself and the infinite database that is Harvard’s library, he finally created a working prototype. I now remember the day he showed it to me. He asked me to meet him in a warehouse he had been leasing to work on his project. I bet when I was alive I would have never forgotten the day I saw his contraption, but I guess dying includes memory loss, along with not having a pulse or a functioning anything.\n\nA pain shot through my body. My brain knows that in this memory I will die that night, and it’s battling itself to recall accurately. I couldn’t have known what would happen to me that fateful day but I know now, and my brain can’t stand to let me make the terrible choice of amusing Dr. Hoffman’s invitation that night.\n\nRegardless of the pain and I feel in my body and mind, I press on through my memory, and recall what played out that evening. I met Jamie outside the warehouse and he was far too eager to show me the inside. He ushered me along his tour giving me no time to ask questions or converse about his spectacular contraption. It wasn’t until we approached what he called, “The Sender Node,” that I finally got an answer to one of my questions.\n\n“Does it work?” I asked him keenly\n“Only one way to find out I suppose” was his response.\n\nMy body and mind were once again struck with immeasurable pain at the thought of what comes next. They say Hindsight is 20/20 and boy are they right. Like a novel unfolding in front of me, the foreshadowing was obvious. I suspected nothing that evening but now it’s all so clear what would happen. \n\n“Only one way to find out I suppose.” And with that response, I was whacked over the head with a crowbar. When I woke up, I was restrained in a chair and forced to sit inside his contraption atop of his “Sender Node.” \n\nNow I no longer feel immense pain. My brain stopped resisting the memory and reacted the same way it did that evening in Jamie’s warehouse. I was overwhelmed with fear. The same level of fear I had felt when I awoke tied to a chair.\n\n“What are you doing Jamie!? Why have you done this to me!? I trusted you and helped you. For years I’ve been by your side supporting your work but I never thought I’d be subject to..... whatever you’re about to do to me!”\n\n“If you’ve truly supported me and been by my side the past couple years, then you should know what’s about to happen to you. As we discussed many times before, I’m going to deconstruct all of your molecules and reconstruct them 15ft to your left. You have nothing to fear my dear friend. After all, you and I may be two of the most gifted minds of our generation. We’ve been checking the math for months making sure everything was correct. Have some faith in our child. Sure she’s young now and never been tested before, but with our minds raising her, she’ll be crawling in a couple months. Then she’ll walk and talk and before you know it, she’ll be transporting mankind across galaxies, light years away.”\n\nJamie said this to me ever so calmly. He truly believed he could make this work. In fact he was do confident in his contraption that he was willing to send me through it first. It wasn’t an act of evil, in Jamie’s mind, he was giving me the privilege of being the first human to be teleported successfully. His outlook on the situation made it all the more twisted, and made me all the more terrified for my life. I pleaded with him and begged him to release me. I begged him to test it on anything else before me. But it was too late, Jamie had lost his mind. He had become so enthralled in the idea of changing history that he couldn’t see logic or ethics. It was a God Complex like no other. Before I knew it, he was entering commands into the computer and beginning the sequence. \n\nI started crying on the cold hospital bed. I knew it was only a memory but it was the only memory I had. My new re-animated life started with confusion, and evolved into a horrible re-enactment of my death. I sobbed alone in the room and tried to scream at Jamie who was obviously not present in the room with me. Jamie probably has no idea I’ve been re-animated yet here I am begging him for my life just as I had tried to that terrible evening at the warehouse. \n\nPt. 1", "When my eyes opened up it was to complete blackness. I tried to move my body, but it felt so numb and heavy, like my entire body fell asleep. After a moment feeling in my hands returns, but as I give them a twirl, they immediately connect with the cold smoothness of metal, “Where the hell...”\n\nI shuffle around my feet all that I can, but my knees collide with the roof fairly quickly to whatever i’m held in. I’ve never thought myself claustrophobic, but I was having a hard time controlling the panic rising in my chest.\n\n“What in the hell is-“ That train if thought snapped like a twig as my last memories flooded my brain with images I wanted to forget. I was entering my house. I locked the door and turned around. There, they held a gun to my face. They didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. Only five paces away from me, but far, far to far away from arms reach. “I should be dead...”\n\nBut I wasn’t... or... was I? My current environment didn’t help me feel any more alive, in fact, next to actually dying this was probably the next worst thing. “I swear to god if I have to climb out of a GODDAMN COFFIN!” I kicked my foot to the metal base so hard it actually flew open, filling my box with a very welcome, yet very blinding source of light. “Oh...”\n\nI wiggled free from the crevice someone shoved me in. Standing freely I stretch my super stiff body. I look around to see the room full of doors and spaces very similar to what I just crawled out myself, but no one was in the room with me, which was completely fine as, with coming back to life I already had every pressing issue: I was stark ass naked.\n\nI shook my head in disbelief, putting a hand to my forehead, but was shocked to find a hole right in the center, and it hurt like a bitch to the touch, “Wha-what?!?!” I reached around to the back of my shaven head, which had hair last I remembered, to unfortunately find what I was looking for, an exit wound.\n\nI dry heaved for a good five minutes, but my body, weak and empty after death had nothing to churn up. I stumbled around, again looking for clothes or anything, bandages for my not bleeding head! Literally anything, but found nothing, not even a towel.\n\nI give up, walking to the only door I in the room. I don’t understand anything, I don’t know if I want too, but waiting around felt like a bad idea. I slide the door open carefully, looking down the dim halls that appeared empty. I took another deep breath, gathering what little strength my body was able to use. I didn’t like the idea of roaming a strange, dark place with no clothes and a bullet wound in my head, but remaining in this room seemed like a far, far worse idea.\n" ]	3
	[WP] Your warparty heads into the deserted town. Looking behind you, you realize that everyone you brought with you is lying dead by the spire	[ "LOVE IS A BATTLEFIELD\n\nThe freaks dumped animal carcasses into the river upstream of town. It took the people of Bombtown a couple of days to realize what they'd done, and in that time a few people got sick and Old Marty died. The people got together in the ruins of the old roller rink to hear what Buzzknuckle had to say.\n\n\"Something's got to be done,\" Buzzknuckle said to crowd of maybe two dozen people. He had on his khaki vest, parachute pants, and combat boots. From time to time when he spoke, his hand would go to his mohawk. \"They said no to trade and no to peace, and now they've poisoned. They're animals.\"\n\nHick Jeffries said, \"They're freaks!\" People shouted in agreement.\n\n\"That's right,\" Buzzknuckle said, \"they're freaks. And it's high time we gave them the boot. Who's on side?\"\n\nHaving arrived at the moment of decision, the crowd hesitated. Some of them had seen the freaks. They knew what they were up against.\n\nGloria spoke up. \"There's no choice here, Bombers. They poisoned the water. That's how they weaken us before they come for us in our beds. We've got to give them the boot.\"\n\n\"Boot'em right out!\" Hick Jeffries said.\n\nEnthusiasm returned. People chanted, \"Boot'em out! Boot'em out! Boot'em out!\"\n\nIt would be war.\n\n***\n\nTAKING CARE OF BUSINESS*\n\nThey trooped out of town, two dozen former accountants, shop workers, aerobics instructors, and librarians. They carried AK-47s, hand grenades, machetes, butterfly knives, cans of mace, and lengths of chain. Buzzknuckle stood in the passenger seat of the jeep, one hand on the frame to steady himself, and the other on the barrel of the their bazooka. Gloria had the wheel, and she raced up and down the column of Bombers to keep their spirits high.\n\nThe edge of Bombtown was little more than a wall of abandoned vehicles that Buzzknuckle had pushed into place back in the days when people were more spread out and he thought he might be the last man on earth. As their column passed beyond the wall, a grimness came over them. They knew they might not be returning.\n\nThe no-man's land separating them from the freaks was only more ruined city. Collapsed skyscrapers. Burned-husks of cars. Creeper vines growing over everything. Driving past a convenience store, Gloria spotted a family of wolves watching their passage.\n\nBuzzknuckle was full of advice. \"Don't shoot until you see the whites of their eyes,\" he'd say. \"If they're close, hold your grenade a second before throwing it. Otherwise they might throw it back. It's gonna be a firefight, you hear? We're gonna blow them away.\"\n\nHis words may have done more to unsettle people than motivate them, but his confidence was nonetheless catching. It was in fairly high spirits that they arrived at the hardward store that the freak's called home.\n\n\"They're not right,\" Hick Jeffries said.\n\nThe freaks had pulled down the sign above the store's door and replaced it with one of their own devising. Written in a reddish-brown substance that appeared to be a mixture of blood and shit, their sign read: Freak of and dy!\n\n\"Not right at all,\" Gloria said.\n\n\"Troops, here's the plan,\" Buzzknuckle said. \"You gather by the doors, but keep back a ways. I'll blast them open, you pour in, and Gloria and me will be right on your heels. Remember, speed is of the essence.\"\n\nThe group split into two bunches on either side of the doors. Gloria and Buzzknuckle remained in the center of the road in their jeep while Buzzknuckle took aim. He fired, the doors blew open, and a dozen people who'd been hiding on the roof of the hardware store opened fire on the Bombers.\n\nWithin moments the gathered Bombers were dead.\n\n\"Oh shit,\" Buzzknuckle said.\n\n\"What do we do?\" Gloria said.\n\n\"Oh shit,\" Buzzknuckle said again. He hadn't moved since he fired the bazooka.\n\nThe freaks on the roof dropped ropes over the side and rappelled to the ground.\n\n\"Buzz, what do we do?\" Gloria said again. When Buzzknuckle didn't reply, she put the jeep in reverse and took off backwards.\n\nThe freaks fired wildly in their direction.\n\nGloria thought they were enough to be safe when, inexplicably, Buzzknuckle, fell on top of her. She yelled out, stopped the jeep, and shoved him off.\n\nHe fell out of the jeep, and Gloria saw the leaking hole that had appeared in his right eyebrow.\n\n**\n\nTOTAL ECPLISE OF THE HEART\n\nWhile she looked down at the dead man who had been the leader of her small community, Gloria experienced a number of conflicting feelings. She felt many varieties of anger. There was anger at herself for not speaking up earlier and somehow preventing the events of the last two minutes. There was anger at the freaks for not letting them live their lives peacefully. And there was anger at Buzzknuckle, for not being a better leader. She felt the disappointment of the follower who finds they've wasted their devotion. Beyond anger, she felt sorrow for her friends. She felt powerless in the face of the world as she now knew it. She even felt shame, for she found herself considering joining the freaks.\n\nHer feelings covered the landscape of emotion before coming to rest on rage, and this led her to a course of action.\n\nWorking quickly, she hung a machete and an AK-47 crossways across her chest. Then she collected the jeep's grenades and bazooka rockets on the passenger seat. She took one grenade off the pile, pulled its pin, and held it.\n\n\"Give'em the boot, Gloria,\" she said.\n\nAnd she put the jeep in forward gear and tore back toward the freaks.\n\n*\n\nFLASHDANCE\n\nShe took the freaks by surprise. They'd stopped firing and seemed more curious as to what she might be doing. Once she'd pulled within thirty feet of them, she dropped her grenade onto the pile of explosives and leapt clear of the jeep.\n\nShe hit the ground hard, but not as hard as the jeep hit the freaks.\n\nThe grenades and rockets turned the jeep into a high-velocity metal spray. The shrapnel mowed down the freaks.\n\nThose who survived had Gloria to face.\n\nShe'd taken a knee behind a concrete barrier on which she rested the barrel of her AK-47. With a calm born of deep emotional hurt, she targeted the surviving freaks. They fled in all directions, looking for some measure of shelter. Her bullets found them in the open, behind cars, and through corrugated metal siding. And when she ran out of bullets, she went after them with her machete.\n\n*\n\nBETTY DAVIS EYES**\n\nOur story ends on an image.\n\nBlood-spattered Gloria wandering down the road toward Bombtown. She's laughing and she's crying." ]	1
	[WP] Everyone thinks that rising temperatures is the greatest threat posed by climate change, but only you know the real danger. With the melting of the ice, old monsters rise out of their ancient hibernation...	[ "I may or may not be dead if you're reading this. I'm not even sure anyone would even bother, but I don't care. Humanity finally hit the red alert. \n\nThousands of people fought to reduce the effect of climate change, and yet so little people heard them. The consumption of electricity and fuel rose up everyday. And one day, as predicted by thousands of studies, the polar ice finally melted.\n\nFirst, came waves of tsunami, hitting every coastline almost overnight. By sunrise, the death toll have already reached the millions. Some coastal cities were able to evacuate some of its citizen, but the ocean swallowed whole the rest that were unable to get out of there.\n\nSecond came the unbelievable heat wave that break records day after day. Drought became the big problem in some places even though we're running the risk of being drown in the ocean's wake. The irony and the absurdity of the situation are both laughable and terrifying to me. Which I can't decided whether I should cry or laugh about it. \n\nThird, food, medical supplies and communications all became a big problem. Apparently, there were records of immense underwater tremors originated from the ice polar when it melted. Which in turn, triggered a bunch of volcanoes. It severed the sea cables so people had to resort to using satellites services. But even then there weren't enough to go around. The lack of communication made the relief effort more difficult than anything.\n\nBut all of those problems can't even be compared to the worst one humanity had to face. A monster, taller and bigger than even Godzilla in the movies, was awaken. People gave it a befitting nickname: \"Titan.\" The Titan quickly make it way toward land, destroying everything in its path. The risk for human lives were too much, so the governments everywhere joined forces together. And still, it took 2 weeks and untold number of firepower to take down the Titan. By then, humanity's death toll had thousands to be added in the history book. \n\nWe mourned the death, raised memorials, statues, parades, etc... But the thought of an impending death linger on everyone's mind. The seed of fear had been sowed, and rightfully so. Titan was only the first one to awaken from the ice coffin of the Earth. Reports started coming in soon after about 5 or 6 more had awaken and are heading toward land soon. \n\nIt didn't help when cults rose up everywhere, spreading their \"prophecies\" of humanity's sins around. Further fueling the flame of fear and death. They spread words that the Titans are the representation of God. That they're here to wipe out the sins of humanity. And the four horsemen will soon come and finish the job if humanity continue to resist. People tried not to let it bother them, but when they see how much havoc the first Titan have brought upon its awakening. It all seems like this is it. This is the end of humanity. We're too arrogance and too selfish as a race, and now we only have ourselves to blame for the death and destruction. \n\nAs I'm writing this under a building ruined, while the army is fighting another Titan above. Trapped and nowhere to go, it seems I won't be able to witness the final moment of all this. Whether or not humanity will endure and survive or wiped out altogether, I don't care anymore. But, if by some miracle that you found this and you're still alive.\n\nDon't give up.", "We all laughed at the ancient cave drawings our research group found in the far north, bizarre behemoths with heads like snakes and obsidian-carved bodies. We saw these, and wondered what had spawned these ideas, were even amused by what the ancient northern cavemen had dreamed up.\n\nThat is, until the rumbling started. Deep grating sounds, like a million tons of ice grinding atop another million. X-rays showed nothing, thermal imaging just showed a slight blur of purple among the fifty different shades of blue. Still the rumbling persisted. It got louder and louder, and the thermal imaging blur became more and more defined, until one day an imaging tech looked through his scopes and found himself looking into a giant, vertical-pupiled eye.\n\nI write this to Reddit as I wait, hiding under my bunk, for someone to acknowledge my plea for help. I hear the droning of a little Cessna-type plane gradually approaching, a steadily growing rrrrrrrrrrrr until it taxis to a stop. Someone starts yelling for survivors. I almost get up, but a voice comes through on the radio:\n\n\"Request acknowledged, unit V-27. Dispatching evac.\"", "I remember now. \nI was a researcher on such creatures. It was my job to figure out if these creatures were still capable of being brought back to existence. If possible, I would extract such an animal to take some of its DNA and clone it. \nI didn't expect it to still be alive. \nWhile the wind howled behind me, my team ran away at the sight of this creature. I had not realized that it moved- I thought it was just an illusion. I was all alone when the beast began to rise up from its ancient hibernation. \nCovered in thick, brown fur, it sniffed the air with its large nose, but when it found what it was looking for, it opened its massive jaws. Paralyzed with fear, I stood still as the monster began to lurk towards me. Finally, I got my wits about me to move, but the ice had engulfed my legs. I couldn't move. I couldn't run. I couldn't escape. \nCloser and closer. \nI could smell its putrid, disgusting breath that burned my skin. I fell to the icy ground, praying to God that my team was coming back with weaponry, or something to get me out of there. Save me, dear Lord, save me. \nCloser and closer. \nGod wasn't answering my prayers. The creature cast a large, black shadow over me. Its jaws weren't wide enough to swallow me whole, but I knew that its razor sharp teeth could easily cut me in half. \nCloser and closer. \nFinally, I accepted my fate. There was no use in trying to resist- the beast had already found its first meal in several million years.", "We tried so hard to stop this. There were petitions to reduce carbon emissions, and to have harsher penalties on companies that weren't green enough. Now we were reaping what we sowed. A part of me felt we deserved, but there were so many innocent people who didn't deserve this. Our efforts weren't enough. \n\nIt all started when a significant portion of the ice melted. They didn't come for a while though, but the first sign was mysterious deaths. News stations had a field day with that, and scientists were left baffled. We had no idea what caused this.\n\nEventually, we learned the source and tried to contain the threat. When that didn't work, we tried to figure out a way to help those that came into contact with it. Our researchers couldn't keep up with the demand. These monsters were hibernating for a long time, and we were left with no defenses. \n\nI'm sorry to say that there is not much hope. I told everyone what would happen if we didn't stop global warming, and now they are reaping what they sowed. The diseases trapped in the ice were never dead; they were laying in wait for us to release them from their thousands of years of hibernation. \n\nNo one listened then, and now there are few people left to even talk to. " ]	4
	[WP]"Did you honestly think humans couldn't learn magic?"	[ "\"Did you honestly think humans couldn't learn magic?\"\n\n\nI haven't been confused often in my existence. Befuddled, yes. Bewildered, certainly. But this feeling of a complete lack of understanding of the world around me, this confusion? No, not very often at all.\n\n\n\"Did you honestly think humans couldn't learn magic?\"\n\n\nThe words repeating in my head. Mocking me. The echoing words reminding me of all the laughing faces, a room full of convulsing giggling, howling guffawing, and there I was in the middle. They say you should respect your elders, but here was around 40 people sniggering and pointing at me, a 3,642 year old warlock. I suppose I was travelling incognito, disguised as a common human, but the response felt below my station.\n\n\n\"Did you honestly think humans couldn't learn magic?\"\n\n\nI feel like it was all a cruel joke now. Someone must be pulling a prank on me? I've read all the tomes in the hidden library, I've studied with the Wizards and Witches of the Sunder. My life is a litany of learning and power, spells and adventure. Humans can be magical, but they can't learn magic. That is what divides us magical beings from the non. So when I got an invitation to take part in a magic tournament, the last thing I was expecting was for a human to be taking part, let alone hundreds of them. \n\nAdmittedly I have spent the last hundred years or so living in exclusion to the humans, a self imposed exile of sorts. The noise and bother of automobiles had been the last straw for me. Pursuant to the Grand Doctrine, I subscribe to the tenants of 'do no human harm', but the invention of cars and everything that came with that helped with my decision to live alone within the remaining unexplored wilderness' left in the world. When the invitation found me, I was excited, not just to show of my now dormant skills, but mostly I looked forward to the social element. What better way to wash away decades of silence than listening to a werewolf howl at a incorporeal being about the pros and cons of fur?\n\n\n\"Did you honestly think humans couldn't learn magic?\"\n\n\nI pulled the invitation out of my robes as I quickened my pace away from the laughter, seeking answers. What did I miss? The parchment was of high quality, the text hadn't changed and I detected no spells of trickery in its modern wording. The sigil of the tournament hosts was emblazoned prominently across the top: WIZARDS OF THE COAST. I was unfamiliar with this guild, but guilds come and go, and clearly they exist because their signage was displayed through the convention rooms of this human hotel where the gathering was taking place. \n\n\nI took part in the registration ceremonies, awkwardly bumping elbows with men and women of various ages and garbs, detecting a handful of magical beings hidden by human projections, much like myself, but the sheer number of humans here was astounding. What had I missed? \n\n\nThe first planeswalker that I was to compete against would be the only one before my disgrace. The tournament had its own rules and regulations, rather than using wands or incantations, tournament specific cards were to be used. I felt the cards I played made sense, their powers complementing my own abilities, but everytime I threw down a card, the adjudicator would stop me and remind me that was illegal. My opponent went from confused, to angry, to sympathetic, to laughter as I made turn after turn of mistake or faux pas until eventually the whole crowd was watching our game, and laughing at me. And suddenly it was over. Defeat. Confusion. Laughter. I thought about killing them all. Or at least turning them into goats. But I remembered the Doctrine, and remembered that all anger fades, and I should leave before it doesn't. \n\n\nAs I made my dash, a gentle tug on my robe sleeve. It was a Witch from the Southern Covern, disguised as human female with an obsession with the color black. Her words will forever haunt me:\n\n\n\"Did you honestly think humans couldn't learn magic?\"", "PART I\n\nShe had been scaling the Frostpath for 7 days. Her lips were tinged with blue and a numb bitterness bit at her cheeks. The thick cloak wrapped around her did little to alleviate sting of the icy wind or the tiny tinges of pain that nipped her skin whenever a snowflake would brush against it.\n\nFinally Amaris reached the apex of the mountain pass. It looks like the old legends were true. Ice Howl Cave’s gaping maw arched before her. Its depths stretched into oblivion like the throat of a hungry serpent and large icicles lined the cave’s opening like glass fangs. She stood hesitant for a moment, trying to shake the fear.\n\nThis was her last chance. Tomorrow her tribe would be celebrating the Blackboar ceremony and her womanhood. Her father already had a chieftain picked out. The days of staring out into the field of training warriors and hoping to join them in order to escape her fate would be over. The days of praying to Skalgar the God of Battle would only yield hopeless silence. She had to succeed. If she didn’t slay the Dragon Hailstorm and return with a trophy she would be doomed to be the child-bearer of some grog-bellied chieftain she would never care for.\n\nDeath by dragon. At least it would be quick. She stepped into the shadows of the cave, steeled with resolve.\n\nThe cave was larger on the inside than it looked. Glimmering pillars of ice stretched high into the ceiling and softly glowing carvings in a language foreign to her spanned the walls. After walking a short distance inside, she could see the dragon. It was a large and magnificent beast that spanned a quarter of the cave. Its scales were layered with feathers that scintillated in soft blues and purples as the runic light of the cave reflected off of them.\n\nThe dragon was asleep and rested comfortably within the center of the cave. If she could catch it by surprise maybe she would stand a chance. She carefully drew the longsword strapped to her back. It was an old battleworn blade that she stole from her father’s trophy room prior to sneaking out onto the Frostpath. She was sure that her father's men would be looking for her, but they had no idea that she was crazy enough to scale the dragon’s mountain. Even the most hardened of her tribe’s warriors avoided the Frostpath.\n\nWith a deep breath, Amaris took her first steps towards the beast. She moved as silently as possible and each step felt like an eternity. Amaris could see the back of the beast rising and falling heavily with each breath. The specter of fear took a tighter grasp on her spine with every inch that she gained.\n\nAlmost there. She could feel a cool aura radiating from the beast as it breathed. She raised her blade high, ready to strike as soon as she neared its head. The dragon was almost as large as her father’s longhouse, she began to worry if it would even feel the pierce of her blade.\n\nIt was then that she felt a crunch beneath her foot. The noise echoed throughout the entire cave. She peered down in dread and realized that the dragon had been resting in a bed of icy flowers. The flowers were hidden by a thin layer of snow. She had been had.\n\nA great azure eye opened and before Amaris could even blink the dragon's strike came down on her with a loud crash. She found herself pinned underneath one of the dragon’s massive claws with her sword absent from her hand. Trapped in the grasp of the beast, she looked desperately for her blade only to find that it had skittered hopelessly out of reach.\n\n“Mmmm… and what do we have here? Who dares to wake Hailstorm with such rude intentions?” A frosty mist exhumed from the dragon’s maw as it spoke. Hearing it speak a language she understood shocked Amaris. She choked on fear and struggled to speak.\n\nThe dragon peered at her curiously then raised its claw just enough for her to worm her way out of its grasp. The dragon’s feathered tail fetched her blade and thrusted it into the ice in front of her. Amaris sprang to her feet. After a moment of confusion, she grabbed the blade with both hands and charged at the dragon in the name of Skalgar.\n\nThe feathered tail arced forward once more and slapped her chest, Amaris fell backwards on her bottom.\n\n“Introductions first little one, then we try to kill each other hmmm?” The dragon spoke coyly. Amaris grit her teeth and rose again. It was playing with her.\n\n“I am Amaris of the Urd Tribe! I am here to slay you and claim my title as warrior!” She took the most defiant stance she could and raised her sword. Her body was screaming for her to run and her legs began to jitter, betraying her false facade as a seasoned warrior. The dragon’s keen eyes noticed.\n\n“Warrior eh?” It motioned with a long claw. “But your arms are so demure and your form speaks of delicacy and not ferocity. How long have you been a warrior, Amaris of Urd?” The dragon sneered.\n\nAmaris’ face grew red in frustration.\n\nThe dragon Hailstorm non-chalantly raised its claws. “Fine then, I’ll believe you. It would be unfair of me to destroy you in this form. Because I am so sincere, I suppose I can help even the odds for our little duel.”\n\nWith those words the dragon’s form became enveloped by a misty blue hue. From the light the image of a tall man in ornate white robes emerged. He was perhaps, the most handsome man Amaris had ever seen. She turned away, not wanting to blush in the face of her enemy.\n\nHailstorm raised a hand and at his command the ice beneath him rose into the form of an ornate sword with a curled handguard. He twirled the elegant blade and gave two practice swings before turning his attention back to the little human.\n\n“Hmm... I may be a bit rusty but I suppose this will work.” He bowed in Amaris’ direction. “You may have first strike my dear.”\n\n(CONT)", "\"I mean, the eleves were the ones who made it.. \"\n\n\"Just because yall' didnt want to share it with rest of the world, doesn't mean that Humans cant just start screaming out gibberish until someones house just lights on fire. We figured it out, BECAUSE you didn't tell us.\"\n\n\"Oh..are you gonna like destroy us all now?\"\n\n\"Nah, you guys are cool.\"", "Your breath hitched in your throat as you finally gained the courage to raise your head, untucking your chin from your chest. Blinking open your eyes, you took a look at the grayness that was spread out around you in a perfect circle that made you its centerpiece. You knelt at the epicenter of the blast radius, the grass scorched into nothing but ash for ten feet in every direction. The heavy particles of smoke were already settling into your lungs, and you coughed, eyes watering as you felt both shock and panic flood into your veins. \n\nI’m alive?\n\nYou blinked again, trying to clear the tears from your eyes and draw in clean air at the same time. However, just as quickly as the smoke and ash had overwhelmed you, it cleared, not so much as an ember remaining in the circle of scorched earth. The silhouette that you had identified as your would-be-executioner stood at the very edge of the charred grass, poking at the rounded edge with their toe in what appeared to be amusement.\n\n“Did you honestly think humans couldn’t learn magic?” The bitter tone indicated criticism, which made you flinch back. Instinctively, squinting away the last of the burning in your eyes, you raised your arms up in front of your face in a poor attempt to shield yourself from any incoming blows, although you knew it would do little against a death blow. \n\n“Pl-please, I didn’t mean to do that,” you stuttered, sealing your eyes shut. “I didn’t know that I could, I swear, I don’t even know what that was, that can’t have been magic-” you felt your voice get stuck in your throat as tears rose up, this time from renewed terror. You’d always heard stories of human facing their deaths with bravery, a last stand of defiance against their oppressors, the heroes of the legends that you whispered with your brothers and sisters before bed. But here, facing one of the tyrants themselves, you couldn’t do anything more than tremble. \n\n“Stop your blubbering,” muttered the voice, and a strong hand clamped itself around your wrist, suddenly yanking you to your feet. Once again, your eyes opened involuntarily, and you found yourself face to face with the dark-skinned elf that you’d first run into just moments ago. Their long nose was almost touching your own, and their deep brown eyes seemed to stare into your very soul. They had pulled you up until you were standing, but you found that your knees were still knocking together despite the fact that you were on solid ground.\n\n“The first thing I’m going to do is let you go, alright? Do you think that you could at least stay on your feet this time?” They asked, the faintest hint of a glare glinting in their pupils. Wordlessly, you nodded, swallowing the lump rising in your throat, your heart beating in an uneven staccato. Slowly, the elf took a step back, gently releasing your wrist from their iron grip, which finally left you standing on your own two feet. Though you still shook, both adrenaline and fear running tandem in your veins, you could finally get a good look at the humanoid figure in front of you. \n\nUnbelievably, you hadn’t been mistaken in identifying the creature as an elf. Their dark skin seemed to glow in the dawn light, two long and pointed ears sticking out from their thick brown curls. A few golden earrings dangled from the triangular tips, catching rays of sun with a hopeful sparkle. Their body was covered with a cloak that was secured loosely over their shoulders, the plain green fabric matching the deep hues of the forest’s undergrowth.\n\n“Now that you’ve learned that you can do magic, would you be willing to join The Resistance?” The elf asked, crossing their arms over their chest as though they were cross that you were doing nothing but staring. Upon hearing the words, you were immediately taken aback, and found your heart begging you to run away as fast as you could in the opposite direction. It was against every rule of survival that you had ever learned to stay in place, but the residual heat from the ground around you, and the explosion of light that seemed to explode from your being, seemed to root you in place. \n\n“I swear, that wasn’t magic, I don’t know what that was, and you know that humans can’t do magic-” you hastily tried to explain yourself, but you were cut off mid-sentence with another sound of exasperation from the elf. \n\n“Magic or not, if I were out here as an Enforcer, I would have killed you on sight. You really think that I would have cared to ask what caused the mess that you just made?” As harsh as the words were, they shook some sense into you for the first time since you had broken free from the fenced in walls of your neighborhood. Taking your silence as an invitation to continue, the elf went on with their explanation. \n\n“I’m a part of the Elven Resistance. We're an underground movement that believes that humans deserve equal status with elves. Our first step is to break groups of gifted humans out of the ghettos and help them reclaim their birthright to magic and magical abilities. Someone we have on the inside must have identified you as an exceptional candidate to join our ranks,” the elf told you, still staring at you with those piercing eyes. The words sounded almost foreign to your ears; a band of elves that truly thought that humans were equals to elves? It was something that you had only heard spoken of in children’s bedtime stories, nothing more than a hopeful fantasy used to placate the restless. \n", "“Yes,” I answered truthfully. \n\nShe groaned. “Really? I feed you, give you a place to stay and this is the thanks I get?”\n\n“Sorry, I’ve never seen a human who had magic before. I thought it had something to do with your species not having a tail.”\n\n“A tail?” She balks. “Not all magic comes from under the sea, you racist mermaid.”\n\n“Excuse me? I’m half dolphin, I’ll have you know. I’d swim away if I weren’t stuck in this contraption.”\n\n\"It's called a bathtub.\" She sighed. “I learned magic from my goldfish. You happy?”" ]	5
	[WP] You're in your spaceship when suddenly it's attacked, you take an escape pod to get off of the ship but as your flying away, the pod is hit and you crash land on a foreign planet with hostile monsters looking to kill you.	[ "I tried my best to keep a straight face as we hurtled to the planet below. Flames blanketed the window as we broke the atmosphere and clouds and quickly the earth below came closer and closer.\n\n“Steady... Steady...” The captain’s voice remained strong yet soft, she placed a hand on the pilots shoulder who guided the escape pods descent. I couldn’t see his face behind the pilots seat, only his ranking: a private first class. Just like me, untested and untrained to the horrors of the extraterrestrial terrors that ambushed our fleet in the dead of space.\n\nIt wasn’t even a battle, but a slaughter. Soldiers and scientists alike caught unaware by the assault tried in vain to put up whatever defenses they could. Under my captain, Rebecca Hartwind, we repelled the first invasion on our battleship, but from the side windows we watched our comrades get overrun. Blue and red blood splattered on windows of neighboring cruisers. Eventually we were pushed back ourselves under the heavy fire of these damnable aliens.\n\n“PULL UP!! PULL UP!!” That was the last thing my captain shouted before we hit the ground like comet. Then the world went black.\n\nWhen I came to, the world was hazy. I lifted my restraints up, and tried to stand, but slid on a slick substance oozing over the metal floor. The brown gloves I wore grew dark as the liquid set in. “Captain...?” There was no response. Groaning I sat myself up. It was dark, only a red emergency light near where the exit hatch was lit the pod. My head was pounding like thunder, or a concussion, but I pushed myself to at least reach the door of the escape pod.\n\nI looked back into the darkness, “Captain? Pilot?” There wasn’t a response. I shook my head in frustration but that only served in making ny vision fade to almost black. I had to fight off the urge to lose my dinner over the floor. Hunched over in pain and anger, I felt around the door for the hatch to open it. It took a moment, but finally I got the door to work itself open, letting in light and dust, and the sound of rushing water.\n\nJust after the door opened a strange silver ship flew overhead, nothing I’d ever seen before, nothing good after what just happened. I looked back to the pilots seat, now with light, I could confirm what I wished wouldn’t be true. The captain laid limp against the back of the pilots seat, and the pilot was dead against the controls. I all but limped to their bodies, checking for pulses, any feint breathes... tears started swelling in my eyes as I reached for the captains dog tags hanging around her neck.\n\n“I’m not gonna die here. I’m not! You trained me to well to die here, captain!” i tugged the dog tags from her neck and placed them on the chain that shares my own. Once the first tear slid down my cheek, the rest came like a flood, “Just stay here... until I can come back for you two...” \n\nI stood up, turning around grabbing the assault rifles holstered to the walls. I only took one gun, and took every clip and round besides one. That one clip I left was inside Hartwind’s own rifle, just in case she was just sleeping, everything else though: ammunition, grenades, whatever I could kill with, I would use. I stood before the opening again, looking back at the bodies of my comrades, “I’ll be back!”\n\nThrough hell and highwater. Through a river of xeno blood. As long as my heart pumped blood through my body, I would survive and return for them. Another silver ship flew through the sky, this time much closer, and it looks like they saw me, as they turned and stopped over a ridge not far from me. I pulled the hammer back on my rifle, checked the scope, clear optics. I took a deep breath and steeled my resolved. Today so many had died...\n\nAnd I will not join that list today. “Gloria En Vitam!”" ]	1
	[WP] Everyone's dressed in trenchcoats and hats that hide everything but their eyes all the time, even when in the shower. They speak in nothing but code-words. Every moment in life is considered a covert espionage mission, despite being anything but. Welcome to the overexaggerated world of spies.	[ "\"WHO THE HELL DO YOU WORK FOR? I'LL TEAR YOUR NAILS IF YOU DON'T--\" \n\nTer snoozes his alarm and and yawns from under his hat. Being a lazy man, one thing that surely gets him out of bed is a limited edition interrogative alarm clock. No spy likes to be asked questions, let alone be interrogated. \n\nTer wears his new trench coat and heads out. A fresh trench coat, right out of the box is a feeling every spy loves and respects. That's about the only thing they collectively love. So much that the feeling is celebrated on 30th June every year by gifting new trench coats to fellow spies. Incidentally, the day records the most deaths as most of the coats are booby trapped or laden with bombs. \n\n\"Hey Ter! Over here!\", Kuyt says as Ter enters the Cafe. \n\n\"Kuyt. How you been?\" \n\n\"Ah you know. Lots of interesting things which I wouldn't talk about and if I do-\" \n\n\"You'll have to kill me\", Ter cuts him off. \"Of course. But then I already know what you were up to the whole time\" \n\nKuyt spits out his coffee from under his trench coat. His eyes clearly give away genuine fear. \n\n\"Haha I'm just screwing with you. I only know that you were in a covert op downtown\", says Ter. \n\n\"Son of a bitch. If you ever do that again-\" \n\n\"You'll kill me\", Ter cuts him off. \n\nThe waiter arrives to take the order. He sees Ter. \"Oh Ter! How you doing? Listen, it's best you don't eat or drink anything here today. It's All poisoned. Boss heard some rumor about some rumor where someone is planning to rob this place.\" \n\n\"Thanks friend. Ah, I always enjoy these lunch dates with you Kuyt. I'll see you around\" \n\nKuyt's face turns blue and he falls off the chair. \n\nTer walks out, puts his hands into the pockets and finds a used toothbrush and some change. \"Son of the bitch! I thought this was a new coat. Can trust anybody these days.\"\n\n\n", "I knocked three times on the fourth red brick below the slot in the door. It opened and a voice said, “password” then it shut.\nI drummed out the rhythm of “happy birthday” to the eighth bar, and the door creaked open. I rolled my eyes. “I preferred the previous weeks passcode, “star spangled banner,” but we were losing too many good spies to the trap door when people were getting too expressive and interpretive with the beat. Survival though, I say. \nI made my way through the typical set of booby traps along the dark hallway. I jumped, bobbed and weaved through spikes and swinging maces. I felt a whoosh blow in my face and caught a poison dart midair. Nice touch, it was millimeters from my nose but I appreciated they went the extra mile to make sure it was incredibly deadly from a rare flower in the southern region of the Amazon. \n“Hey Bob,” I nodded to the hidden dart blower behind a secret chamber in the wall.\n“Hey Bob”I heard a muffled reply. Every man was Bob and woman, Jane. Of course to keep the anonymity, but it made life both simple and incredibly confusing.\nI entered a phone booth, picked up the handset and pressed the key code into the pad. The booth began to sink into the floor. I opened the door once the booth dinged and the voice said “Welcome Agent Bob.” As I walked down the dark pathway, an overhead light followed my steps, revealing the narrow bridge carved in a giant cave. I made my way to the end of the walkway to single white envelope cushioned on a pedestal. I opened it to read:\n\nNew location is on P3\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPs. Note will self destruct in 10 seconds. Have a great day\n\n\nI threw the envelope behind me as I walked back to the booth. The envelope combusted and the flames died out as the pieces floated down the bottomless pit of the cave.\nWhat was that code again? I was a bit rusty for P3. Ah yes, 547...\nA bullet fired from the button 5. It grazed my ear but I was fine. Damn it, that was close I thought as I punched in 54912.\nThe doors opened once again to a clean, white room with one counter\nThe man in the trench coat behind the counter greeted me “the highlands see some unusual rain.” \n“Too many white clouds are passing,” I answered. He disappeared behind the counter and resurfaced after a few minutes with a latte to-go. I grabbed the cup and held it up to thank the barista.\n\nI took slow sips. It’s a pain in the ass some times but they have the best latte in town. " ]	2
	[WP] All of a sudden its revealed to the world that every conspiracy theory ever created, from Chemtrails to Lizard People are true and the world begins to plunge into chaos.	[ "The thing about the truth is that not everyone wants to believe it. The big lies are soothing. The little lies are appealing or maintain the illusions so many require to function daily. All the white lies and the huge cover ups were tossed straight to hell at the end of 2019.\n\nA mad scientist ripped our world apart. Not with some doomsday device, no nukes, no poisons, and no lies. He unleashed his truth engine on the internet. \n\nSeductions, misrepresentations, deceptions and most of \"known history\" just tossed out. \n\nAbsolute truth. \n\nThe world went mad! Not because of what was true, but we had been addicted to our own lies, our own cover ups, our own bullshit. Lifelong friends turned on each other. The hidden technologies used by everyone. Complete chaos reigned. \n\nThis warning comes from your future. Sure, some of the conspiracy theories are true... Never mind that. Hold on to your precious lies! They keep society together. \n\n- From your future self. \n\nEdit: sorry, this got rushed due to an incoming call. I re-read this, and don't like where I took it." ]	1
	[WP] You have the ability to know who is going to kill you that day, and only that. That's how you've avoided so many deaths. One day you realize that everybody is going to kill you, intentional or not.	[ "Being me was… somewhat interesting.\n\nYou know how, if something stays the same throughout your entire life, you would never be able to tell the difference? Like you’d never know how hard it is getting out of bed with one-handed until you’d actually lost an arm. There are things we take for granted, because those things come to us as naturally as breathing.\n\nThe one thing I never took for granted was waking up and simply doing just that. My heart would be light and free, my mind clear and a smile would come to my face easy as pie. Whenever I simply just woke up, I’d be ecstatic, my mood unable to be dampened by anything. Not a lousy breakfast, not a failed test score, not even the television spitting out more headliners about the impending doomsday.\n\nBut. Of course there’s a ‘but’. Did you think I would be telling this story otherwise?\n\nThere were days, far and few in-between, when I woke up with a weight on my chest. I’d always know before I opened my eyes. It was as if someone had snuck into my room overnight and had somehow laid a football-sized boulder on me without waking me. And when I’d awaken, this ball of dreading, this sense of foreboding, would ruin my day.\n\nBecause that little orb of strange emotions would mean that someone was going to try and kill me that day. The easy part was that I knew who that person was. Their names and faces would be seared into my mind’s eye, like a hitman’s calling card. I had the ‘who’ down, it was a freebie.\n\nThe hard part was the ‘when’, ‘where’, ‘how’ and most importantly, ‘why’. Why was Mrs. Smith from two houses down going to attempt murder? How was Jaden, the half-paralyzed kid in a wheelchair who everyone held yearly fundraisers even going to try? You get the point. I knew the hit on my life was coming, but the myriad of questions I had to answer to avoid it were downright tedious and exhausting.\n\nThey came every few weeks, but when you’ve lived for close to seventeen years, that gradually added up to a hell lot of attempts. Whoever kept giving the kid more coins to play “Attempt to Murder Jason” on the arcade cabinet that was my life up there in Heaven (or was it hell?) could go stick it where the Sun didn’t sun.\n\nDon’t even get started when more than one person was going to try and kill me. I could care less whether or not it’d be intentional or accidental. But I’d rather never have to repeat my fourteenth birthday, when there’d been eight different attempts on my life, including one where I’d almost been suffocated to death in a bouncing castle that’d been abruptly deflated when my sister had knocked the generator over.\n\nI’d woken up that day feeling like a sumo wrestler had taken to using my chest as a practice ground.\n\nSo this. This brought things to a whole new level.\n\n“What the fuck,” I gasp, hands flailing on the empty space above my chest. “What’s happening?”\n\nI feel as though I am on the ocean floor, crushed by combined pressure of millions of galleons of murky seawater as well as all of the landmasses stacked on top. It wasn’t that I couldn’t breathe, but that every breath was a momentous chore. And my head. Oh, my head.\n\nAn endless stream of names and faces flash through them. Allison, a little blonde girl with pretty pigtails tied with orange ribbons. Mack, a hulking Chinese man with muscles that defied common sense. Simon, a bespectacled businessman dressed neatly in a suit and tie.\n\nOn and on it went, the mental assault drowning me as my brain overheats at the load of information it’s being forced to process. There was just no way I was going to remember all of these people. And then the gravity of the situation strikes me, like lightning does a lone tree on an empty plain.\n\nWere these all people who were going to try and kill me today? What the hell? And now alongside the mental and physical strain, panic slowly writhes beneath my skin, impatient to take its place at the forefront of my mind.\n\nBut not just yet. I still had many, many more faces and names to go through.\n\nI’m on my bed for what feels like an hour, rigid and drenched in cold sweat. Locked in place while a mixture of horror and resignation at my situation grew. Then it’s over.\n\nAnd I don’t move. What was the point? I could feel hot, helpless tears threatening to stream down my face. There were so many people who wanted me dead today. How? Why?\n\nThe ‘when’, ‘where’ and ‘who’ didn’t seem important enough to agonize over anymore, given that the answer was anytime, anywhere and everyone.\n\nHow was I going to make it through today?\n\nI startle as my mom knocks loudly on the door, irritated that I still hadn’t gotten up for school.\n\n“There’s going to be a special address today, remember?” she yells, annoyed at my perceived tardiness. “You can’t be late again this time; the neighbours are beginning to gossip behind our backs!”\n\nMaybe this would be it. My mother would be so tired of always having to baby me and chase me for every little thing that today was the final straw. Maybe I would open the door, a miserable look on my face and she’d just lose it and stabbed a pencil through my eye or something.\n\nBut nothing happens when I answer my door, except she hands me my clothes for the morning, a freshly pressed set of shirt and pants. There’s a flicker of concern in her warm, familiar eyes as she wiped the sweat from my brow.\n\n“Are you alright?” she murmurs worriedly, patting me down. “You don’t look so well. Maybe you shouldn’t go to school.”\n\nThat’s the worst feeling of all. Because I knew. I knew that somehow, she was going to try and kill me. By accident or on purpose, I didn’t know. But her name, as well as those of my family and friends, had stuck out to me throughout the torrent of names that had pelted me.\n\nSo, I go to school. My mom sends me off with a smile, making me promise to call if I got sick during class.\n\nThe school hall is packed to the brim with students, all the teachers present and milling about at the sides. There’s a confused murmur amongst the crowd. Just what was going on? Why’d they cancel first period for this?\n\nA large screen had been set up in the front of the hall. The principal stands in front of it, a deathly pallor on his skin. He coughs, motioning for silence. The screen turns on.\n\nA man with rainbow coloured hair, dressed in a strange hoodie with futuristic circuits on it stands there, his eyes both a milky white.\n\n“My fellow humans, I am UO-105. I am from your future. Six months ago I appeared, to warn you of your impending doomsday. And you laughed.”\n\nHe takes a deep, dramatic and indignant breath.\n\n“And so, I promised proof. The last six months, I have predicted a series of world events on screen, live in front of the world, that have all come to pass despite, or because of, your best efforts to prevent them.”\n\nUO-105 leans forward, his blinded eyes glinting.\n\n“So now that I’ve got your ear, listen to me. For the end of the world comes because of one person. A boy. You must kill him. You must. Spare no thought for him, have no mercy. If he lives, everyone you love will die.”\n\nHe pauses for dramatic effect.\n\n“Jason Chen, American student in the small town of Accreton. He goes to the only High School there. Kill him, and the world avoids doomsday.”\n\nThe screen turns off, and the hall is deadly silent. A sea of eyes swivel to face me, blank uncertain looks on their faces.\n\n“Run, Jason,” my homeroom teacher, Mr. Davis, screams, as he turns and tries to restrain his colleagues. “Run now!”\n\nOh Mr. Davis. You’d just killed me. Because he’d made it real. Up to that point, it had to have been a joke, right? The one person in the world you had to kill was right here next you in school?\n\nBut when he’d tried to save me, he’d made it real. Made it seem as though I really needed to be killed.\n\nAs the hands swarm over me, all I could do was laugh bitterly. Oh Mr. Davis. Oh, the irony." ]	1
	[WP] The final girl of a popular horror film starts her therapy today after the film’s events.	[ "Cross legged at the infinity pool, I gaze up into his shadow.\n\n\"You don't believe me either, do you?\"\n\nNew tears stream down my cheeks.\n\nI reach for another tissue and my phone.\n\n\"You don't, do you?\"\n\nMy puffy faced reflection is worse than before.\n\nTwo hours have already passed.\n\nTopanga's sun is hotter than ever.\n\nHe still he wont answer me.\n\n\"FUCK YOU...fuck ALL of you!!!\" \n\nStanding, I walk back toward my tiny new room at Malibu Detox.\n\nFinally he speaks.\n\nArctic breath on my neck.\n\nThick heavy metal hand hooks on my shoulders forcing me into the ground.\n\n\"Im not your shrink bitch. Scream and I will gut you like a fish\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You're at home. The year is 2060. You're grandkids are looking through your old stuff. They bring a photo album to you and yell "Grandpa! Tell us this story of this one!" On it says, The war of 2020.	[ "I was as always too old now to do anything, all I had to rely for entertainment was my grandkids or for just those augmented reality bull. \"Hey Grandpa!\" It was little Him coming to see me, hopefully for me or for him to tell a story.\n\n\"Grandpa, me and Tim were going around your box, and we found this.\" It was my old leather photo album with 2020 written on it: The War of 2020. \"Could you tell us the story of this? There is so many things I have never seen before!\"\n\n\"Alright then, but first, could you find out which one is me?\" As I showed them a picture of me and my small squad, \"That one!\" \"No, it's the one on the right here\" Okay tthen lets start with the story.\n\nIt was 2020, I was just a young man working a regular life of business and typing. Jenny was pregnant with my son, I was so happy to have a son. But news had eventually erupted all over the world, the UN were in disarray, trying to reserve proper land for every country to fill the overwhelming waste they had. America was already setting up border patrols around Mexico, the UK already having walls around themselves. Russia already stationing giant airships in the Pacific.\n\nI knew things weren't good here at all, the walls around us wouldn't hold for long. I knew I had to do something to help my future, I had called my friends and we went for our favorite Bar.\n\"Mate, what are we going to do?\" \"Fuck mate, my wife is still at the Americas, she's fucked. Fuck it, I am joining the army.\" We all looked at him silent, but slowly, we all stood and joined up with him and we all had to do something about it.\n\nWe had joined the army, we went through days of boot camps, for everyday we hope to see our wives and kids to be safe. We were all in different platoons, but we would still be in touch. It was then when shit went down the damn hill and down the cliff. The axis fucking came back, the fucking axis. They had blown down the walls at the south-side. We were all deployed in planes and to be parachuted down.\n\nGod help us, Intelligence says that they had already begun sending troops in. As we all slowly arrived on top, some planes fell on fire, I jumped before my Captain even told us to, when I landed, my platoon caught on, but as we called on for the other platoons to help, there was no response. Time stopped as I soon realised I joined the army and had my only friends killed before they even fought. I had to pull myself together. I went to my Captain and pushed back the force, but we were still vulnerable, Command ordered everyone back.\n\nYears pass as each day I pray for Jenny and my son to be safe, and for my fallen allies to rest in peace. The war goes on, countries falling apart, country super powers stand and small countries turned into land fills. Eventually when the war was subsiding, we soon realised something was wrong, it was war, not peace. As on 2027 September 11, Russia has launched multiple nuclear warheads at America, killing millions, this was when the tide of war changed, when the whole world went after Russia for commuting a war crime, and on 2028 December 13, Russia was defeated and the war was done. The world used Russia for landfills for 2 years and on 2030, technology came when we could just send shit to space, far away.\n\nI returned home and to see my son, now already 10 years oold who didn't know who I was, but Jenny looked at me and cried with Joy, it was the first time I cried in 10 years since my friends died. I managed to get my life back on track, and a new life began.\n\n\n\n\"And that boys, is why family is important.\" And they just smiled happily and the next day pestered me on new stories." ]	1
	[WP] You find yourself watching a clickbait conspiracy video - "10 time travelers were caught on tape". One of them is you.	[ "My heart raced as I caught sight of my own image in the video. I'd worked so hard to blend in to this ancient society, even learning the dead language they call English. My time, my people call this language Ae.\n\nThe technology was so ancient here, I barely believed it worked. Of course the images in the knowledge banks, what little survived the Great EMP War of 3515, makes more sense when you understand Ae and this culture. There's so much that's only a distraction with very little truth to it...\n\nMostly, I ignored distractions but I couldn't pass over time travelling news. Ninety-nine percent of theme were jokes without a grain of truth to it. This was the one percent of truth. I had to destroy this video. I had to make sure it wouldn't end up in the knowledge banks or they could find me.\n\nA sharp knock on the door made me snap my head towards it like a scared owl. \"Open... the... door...\"\n\nToo late." ]	1
	[WP] A man approaches you and hands you a diary and immediately disappears into the night. Stunned you wait until you get home to open it.	[ "\"Hello, terribly sorry for the inconvenience but I really need your help. Here's $500 and this book. Please, keep this safe and don't read it until you know it's safe. I'll be gone awhile.\", a black suited man said as he thrust $500 and a brown leather journal into my hands before running off into the night.\n\nI had been waiting for my bus when the suited man ran up to me, passing his book and the request before he disappeared into the night.\n\nI stared at the strange book, completely stunned, before shrugging and placing the book into my bag. After a short wait, the bus came and I got on, wondering what sort of secrets the journal held. I absentmindedly stared out the window, swearing I saw a few shadowy phantoms running past, before passing it off as a trick of light and plugging my ears with the sounds of Arcade Fire.\n\nWhen I was finally home, inside my apartment, I examined the elaborate vine embossments in the leather and with a deep breath, I unbuttoned the top of the book wondering what sort of horrors awaited me. I was met with the word \"Diary\" written in swooping letters on a large cover page.\n\nI turned the page and I was met with a blank page of lined paper. \nAt first, I wondered whether it was a joke before I saw words appearing on the page in black ink.\n\n\"Who are you? Where is dad? Where am I?\"\nI jumped back. Was this a joke?\n\"Um, can you hear me?\", I said cautiously to the book.\n\nThe words, \"I can, but it's so quiet.\" appeared in black ink under the list of questions. \n\nI picked up the book and examined it for cameras or microphones, finding none. No wires or microelectronics were found. \nWhat sort of madness was this?\n\n“Huh. Okay, who are you?”, I asked cautiously\n“My name's Annie and it's been so weird since dad made me touch that glowing ball.”\n“What do you remember before that?”, I asked.\n“I was very, very sick and daddy and some doctor's were talking and shaking their heads. I wasn't sure what they were saying because I was too tired. After that, I slept and then that night, I was woken up late at night and daddy had this green glowing orb and a pretty leather book. He made me touch it and then everything went black and now, it's not black.”, the words appeared on the page.\n\n“Um, was your father a man in a black suit and a top hat?”, I asked quietly.\n“Yeah. You saw him?\", the words appeared.\n“I don't know how to say this, but you're a book right now and your father handed you to me and told me to keep you safe? He said he'd be gone awhile.\"\n\nI stared at the page waiting for a response and after a long five minutes, I saw an ellipse, “. . .”\n\n“Well, whatever. I'm Warren. Hope you're not freaked out. Because I'm so weirded out right now.”\n\nI left the journal, the words fading until they disappeared and I microwaved a dinner. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into." ]	1
	[WP] Write a story about the most adorable villain	[ "\"It was a hot summer -- hot, and humid about 12, no, 13 years ago. I remember when I first spotted it. It seemed so simple, so unextraordinary... Just a lemonade stand, and a kid, like a million kids before him, sitting at the side of the road selling lemonade.\n\n\"I approached the lemonade stand, well, it had to be sometime around 3:15 or 3:30 p.m. because I had been walking home from the gas station where I worked, and I walked up to the stand, which had a multi-colored sign that read, 'Lemonade - 25 cents.'\n\n\"A couple thoughts flashed through my mind at this point: First, the 'n' was written backwards. Classic, I thought. Second, apparently inflation hadn't increased the price of lemons in the thirty or so odd years since I had sold lemonade at a similar establishment in the past.\n\n\"Anyway, I pulled out one dollar, slapped it on the table, and couldn't help but notice that this kid was the absolute cutest darn thing I had ever seen. He was four, maybe five years old at most. He had sandy brown hair and a smile that was filled with the genuine joy of youth, and when he asked me how many lemonades would I like, he spoke with a lisp. Adorable.\n\n\"'Two,' I said since I had worked up quite a thirst given that it was a relatively long walk from the station over here. Like I said, it was a hot summer. Well, he nodded, reaching for two cups, but for a second, I thought I saw something flash across his face. It spooked me to be honest -- something about that look wasn't right, especially not for a kid his age...\" The man trailed off, staring at the floor.\n\nAfter a moment, the interviewer asked, \"And what happened next?\"\n\n\"Okay, then, well like I said, the kid spooked me. So I got to looking around, and I started to notice little things that were off.\"\n\n\"Off?\"\n\n\"Yeah, like, for example, despite the heat, no other kids were out selling lemonade. In fact, I hadn't seen a single kid during my whole walk up to that point.\n\n\"At that point, the kid started to get suspicious of me. I think he knew that I knew.\"\n\n\"What did you know?\" asked the interviewer, feeling a slight sense of unease. The next part would be determinative.\n\n\"I knew that this kid had been cheating the system. He was able to keep his lemonade prices so low on account of one simple fact--he had all the supply. There's no other way you could charge a measly 25 cents for a cup of lemonade nowadays. What'll that net you? You sell 60 cups, and you get $15, and that's not counting the expenses and overhead, like the felt tip markers he must have used to make that sign.\"\n\n\"Don't you think that you're getting a little off topic?\" the interviewer asked, hoping that he wouldn't lose track of the conversation again.\n\n\"Well that's when it happened. I figured it out. I saw them... The lemons. When I first walked up to the lemonade stand, I didn't notice. I mean, who would? No one would think twice about yellow curtains. I bet a lot of fine people have yellow curtains. Well, I bet a lot of okay people have yellow curtains. But, when I looked closer, I could see the truth. The curtains weren't yellow -- The house was full of lemons. Up to the ceiling on the first floor and filling past the windows on the second floor. The whole house must have been bursting with them. If you had opened the front door, they would have come spilling out in a great flood.\n\n\"I got so mad. I knew he couldn't have gotten those lemons legally. And I knew that the only people stocking up on lemons this time of the year were his competitors.\"\n\n\"Competitors?\" the interviewer questioned, as he shifted in his metal folding chair.\n\n\"Other kids,\" the man answered. \"Other kids... I knew he could only have gotten those lemons from other kids who were running other lemonade stands, and it made me think of all the times I had been bullied growing up, and I just... I lost control. I think I hurt him... the kid. I think I hurt him bad,\" the man said as he slowly dissolved into tears.\n\nThe interviewer scribbled one final note, and folded up his chair\\. \"\\Don't worry,\" he said, allowing his voice to fall back into a familiar lisp, \"I'm sure he turned out okay.\"\n\nBlinking, the man turned, stunned realization showing on his face, \"You!\"\n\n\"No one will ever believe you,\" the interviewer said, as he turned and left the padded room, locking the door behind him.\n\nNo, the interviewer thought, not a story anyone would likely believe. Regardless my appearance here probably will make him even less believable. Phase two can indeed proceed.\n\n\n\n\\[Any comments appreciated. Still just getting into this whole writing thing.\\]" ]	1
	[WP] While idly scratching a bug bite under your shirt, a panel painlessly slid open on your side, revealing a bloodless compartment with a small book in it. The cover of the book says “Instruction Manual.”	[ "Self-discovery \n\nAs we sat outside having a family dinner, we snapped at each other and the bugs ate at us. \n\nThe next day, exhausted and hungover, I had examined the parts of myself I could see in the bathroom mirror. Grimacing, I counted 9 bug bites scattered around my pale and admittedly flabby body - five of them clustered in a group on my left side - right on my ribs. They looked like a message in inflamed brail. A message that craved to be read over and over again - hard - with my fingernails.\n\nAll day long, I tried to ignore them, but I’d catch myself unconsciously scratching, picking, and probing. My dumb hand - my right hand, kept drifting over and sneakily sliding up under my shirt, scratching - stopping. Scratching again. Like the phantom hand in Dr. Strangeglove, my hand had a mind of its own. \n\nMy bites wanted to be itched. I itched them - until suddenly, horribly, beneath my finger tips I felt the skin over my ribs suddenly tear, split open, and peel back. I screamed, yanked my hand out from under my shirt and my body jackknifed on the sofa. Scrambling to simultaneously clamp my arm against my side and get up, I spilled my beer across my lap and kicked the junk food off the coffee table I’d been resting my feet on. The wound was painless, I was starting to realize that as I was holding my shirt against my side. Still, I was hurt obviously, badly - something was really wrong. Beneath my protective hand, underneath my strangely unbloodied shirt, I could feel my skin peeling away, I could feel my ribs caving in, I could even feel something coming loose. I felt a swooning horror, a weakness in my bowels, a dampness spreading in my lap, and I almost tripped over the coffee table as I bolted into the bathroom to get a towel, get a closer look, to get... I don’t know what.\n\nIn front of the bathroom mirror, I had slowly peeled up my shirt, my eyes already tearing up in anticipation of what I’d see. Dimly, I was aware of beer or urine trickling down my chilled legs. Under the hem of the rising t-shirt I could see the - well, I didn’t know what I was seeing. I could see goose bumps like a rash across my exposed skin of my stomach and arms. The skin I could see looked like a dense grid of pale small and bloodless mosquito bites. I could also see an impression - an indentation in my side, a pale, bloodless, flesh-toned and goose pimpled concave area in the shape of a square with something within it. A smaller flat square with markings, was resting inside of it. Resting inside of me. Popping out actually, as though spring loaded, as if though my body was rejecting it - excreting it.\n\nWhatever it was, it was loose, and as I raised my shirt higher, it came free, falling against that inside of my left arm. I screamed again, and reflexively clamped my left arm against my body, the part of my body that was painlessly falling out. My eyes squeezed shut in anticipation of the pain, but - other then the pressure of my arm against the skin of my side, I felt nothing.\n\nI raised my arm slowly, looking down at myself, my mouth open in shock, and I cupped my right hand beneath this alien thing that was coming off of me, away from me, out of me. “This is a Dream.” I thought wildly, confusedly. “I’m dreaming this. It feels so real though.” Panic chased the thoughts. Panic, confusion, and fear.\n\nThe object fell onto my hand. It was light, and warm, and as it fell away, I saw the skin on my side somehow roll back over the indention. I felt something else too, something, somehow expanded in my side - in my insides, as though my lungs were filling with air and as though my internal organs were shifting. I gasped, my breath hitching in my throat, and I shivered, a full body quake, and a spasm ran from my scalp to the soles of my feet. \n\nI looked at the thing in my hand. It looked, absurdly, like a book of flesh. A backwards book bound in pale skin the color of my own. Skin dotted with moles, pores, and small blond hairs. In numbed disbelief I raised it up to see it better and in the bathroom mirror, facing me, I could see my shocked crazed face and the object’s reflection - its other-side. The side facing the mirror was marked with strangely familiar symbols above a purple shape.\n\nTurning the book around I saw, marked in darker pigmentation, the words “Instruction Manual.” Below that was a birthmark - a port-wine stain, that with a shock of recognition, I realized looked like an illustration of my smiling face.", " The damned insects had gotten him again. It was the middle of Summer and the insects had come out in force. One had bitten him recently and he found himself scratching at the bite again. Relief was instant, but he knew it would only get worse again. He grumbled, scratching anyway. He didn't even like Summer.\n\n\"Stupid heat.\" he grumbled. \"Stupid sun, stupid bugs, stupid... stupid.\" he sighed, scratching again. \"Least it's nearly over.\" he returned his attention to his game, tapping away at the keyboard with one hand while scratching with the other. He scratched, scratched, scratched... until his nail caught something on his torso. He looked, startled. It was... a flap of some description. \"What the hell is that?\" he exclaimed, recoiling in shock. He sat still for a moment, trying to control his breathing when he realised. It wasn't bleeding. It didn't even hurt. He winced as he tugged at it again. The flap swung open painlessly, revealing a curious thing. He felt the space within the cavity tentatively and felt... paper? He brought it out and flipped it over, reading the cover in disbelief. \"Instruction Manual? This can't... what?\"\n\n\\-----\n\nHe swept some junk off of his desk and put the book down, opening it. The text within was English, which confused him more. \"Okay, uh... index, I guess...\" he flipped to the back and looked through it. There was ever category he could think of; repairs, maintenance... editing caught his eye. He turned to that page and looked through it. It was an entire chapter. According to it, the... panel that had hidden the instruction manual also contained a series of buttons he could use to change who he was. It had even been set so other humans and their creations would naturally assume he had been however he set himself.\n\n\"Okay, this is nuts...\" he blinked, even more confused, but he kept reading. \"So... if I flip this one, I sho- whoa!\" he felt a surge trickle through his body. With it came a surge in strength, his muscles visibly bulging until he was mighty. \"Holy jeez, this works...!\" he looked around his room, worried that somebody might walk in, but he was safe. He flicked through the instruction booklet once more, making sure he knew how to open the panel again if he needed to, then nodded to himself and sealed the panel. Even though he knew where to look, he couldn't see any marks at all. Just the bite from before. He considered the weight of everything he had learned in these few short moments. He had to figure out if anybody else could do that, but... how was he going to manage something like that? It wasn't something he could share with anybody. He frowned as he thought. Maybe if he could change himself somehow... sneakier? Quieter? Just plain invisible? He saw a section on superhuman traits, after all... he opened the panel and retrieved the book. He was hooked. He had to know more." ]	2
	[WP] As a gift, your friend gave you a lovely painting of a figure standing in a vast meadow. You decide to hang the painting on your wall, but as you do, it suddenly changes to an image of a figure standing in a modern home. You look around, and you're now standing in the meadow.	[ "I felt a small breeze brush my face. My first thought was that I must have left the kitchen window open, but as I gazed upon the painting, I noticed that that was not the case since In that painting I could see that window and it was closed. The floor under my feet had turned into grass and wildflowers, and the smell of the city had disappeared. I closed my eyes. ”This must be a dream,” I thought to myself as I felt the sunlight on my face. ”A weird and wonderful dream, but a dream nonetheless”.\n\nBut when I opened my eyes, the wall and the painting were still before me, and my hair moved when the wind grabbed it. I reached to touch the painting. It felt just like before, just an ordinary painting, only the picture itself had changed. Where there used to be a meadow was now a painfully realistic recreation of my apartment. ”I guess I should clean more often.”\n\nAs the wonder started to fade away, it was replaced by fear. I began to look around me frantically, could I still move my legs? I ran. I ran to the end of the meadow, where the forest began and I ran back to the painting. Surely it would just teleport me back to my home if I hung it again. I grabbed the painting and lifted it off the wall. But now the wall was gone, and there I was, standing in the middle of a meadow with a picture of my apartment in my hands.\n\nI looked around me again. On the other side of the meadow was the forest where I had run before, but on the other side, there was a road. I started walking towards that road, squeezing the painting with both of my hands, I guess I was afraid of losing it. As I reached the road, I felt panic taking over me. ”Just pick a direction and walk, there must be humans at both ends of the road, why else would it have been built,” I took comfort in rationality and turned right and started walking. I cursed women's clothes and their tiny or nonexistent pockets as I now had nothing on me, not even my phone. With this thought my steps took speed, and I hurried down the road.\n\nI must have walked for hours. My feet were hurting, and panic and desperation were the only emotions in my mind. I had encountered no-one on the road, and I had not seen any houses. It was starting to get dark when I finally saw a glimpse of light shining at the side of the road. It was a small house, the kind where old people in the movies live, in the middle of nowhere. A relief brushed over me as I neared the front door. Light shining in the window must mean that there was someone home, someone, who hopefully had a working phone.\n\nI rang the doorbell. I could hear a chair being pulled back behind the door and after that, footsteps approaching me. As the door opened I was filled first with relief and then with anger as the person in front of me was my dear friend, the same one that had given me the painting in the first place, but something was different about him. ”Hello?”, he said with a surprise and confusion in his voice. ”Um, hi,” I answered while still in shock, that was my friend, but at the same time, it couldn’t be as my friend was nearing his eighties and this man in front of me could not have been more than thirty if even that. Also, as long as I knew, my friend lived in the city and not in a small house in the middle of nowhere.\n\n”So, um, how can I help you miss?”, He demanded as he measured me with his eyes. This man clearly had no idea of who I was. ”Oh, yes, could I maybe use your phone?” I blurted out as I stared at him. ”I don’t have one,” he said and started to close the door. ”Wait!” I cried and stuck my foot between the door. ”I am lost, and I really need your help, as I don’t even know where I am, are you sure you don’t have a phone?” The man sighed and opened the door again. ”Come on in then,” he said, as he stepped aside for me to step in.\n\n”So, how did you get lost?” he muttered to me as he made his way to the next room. I stayed in the hall, unsure whether to follow him or not. ”Well, I just followed the road,” I couldn’t tell him that I came through a painting, he would think I’m mad. I looked around me and spotted a newspaper on a little table beside the front door. Nothing out of the ordinary there, except as I glanced at the date in the upper corner of the front page, I felt like my heart had stopped, as it said: 24.7.1968.", "As the scenery in the painting began to shift, and distort, I was filled with mild panic, when I saw what it turned into. But it was more than that. I looked on, as I saw something terrifying begin to take place within the picture. The house began to burn, and bubble.\n\nSuddenly, the image became an eagle view of the world. I looked on, as the planet began to burn, as rays from the sun scorched the land.\n\nThe painting disappeared, and I was left in the beautiful meadow.\n\nI couldn't think straight, as I looked around the area. Everything looked so amazing. In the far background, I could see a lone tree, standing tall on a hill. My feet began to make their way there, in a trance.\n\nBefore I could reach the tree, however, A voice spoke up from high above me.\n\n\"Hello, Adam. I hope you enjoy my new Eden...\"" ]	2
	[WP] Grace Slick's attempt to dose Richard Nixon with LSD succeeds. After hours of tripping, he emerges a changed man. The timeline is altered forever.	[ "I'm a bot, bleep, bloop. Someone has linked to this thread from another place on reddit:\n\n- [/r/psychedelicmentions] [\"LSD\" in \\/r\\/WritingPrompts: \\[WP\\] Grace Slick's attempt to dose Richard Nixon with LSD succeeds. After hours of tripping, he emerges a changed man. The timeline is altered forever.](https://www.reddit.com/r/PsychedelicMentions/comments/9ad2qj/lsd_in_rwritingprompts_wp_grace_slicks_attempt_to/)\n\n&nbsp;^(If you follow any of the above links, please respect the rules of reddit and don't vote in the other threads.) ^\\([Info](/r/TotesMessenger) ^/ ^[Contact](/message/compose?to=/r/TotesMessenger))" ]	1
	[WP] You are the engineer of a seed ship bound for a distant planet and the colony was placed into stasis, however, shortly after falling out of radio range, you realise that the stasis technology was never properly tested for the length of the mission	[ "A mix of cold and warm fluctuated across my skin. A wave of clear air pressed down on my face filling my lungs, like being pulled from drowning. I shot awake staring into the glass screen as it rolled away.\n\n\"Good morning Edward.\" The computerized voice reminded me it was time to wake up.\n\n\"Good morning Alie, how are things?\"\n\n\"Atomospheric conditions normal, temperature set to preferred sixty-nine degrees. Systems functionality, normal. Data display incoming. Stasis chambers locked no deterioration detected-\"\n\n\"Alie, can you bring up the stasis logs, travel chart and the chamber statistics.\"\n\n\"Of course Edward. Is there something wrong? May I assist?\"\n\n\"I don't know, maybe just paranoia.\" The star chart blinked onto the screen showing our path and relative distance. Numbers began pouring over the screen like falling symbols, logs always hurt to look at. \"Okay Alie chamber one, stats say conditional atmosphere one-hundred.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"The log reports a conditional change over the past year.\"\n\n\"Yes, this change is part of the system- all systems functioning properly.\"\n\nI smirked at the machine's snarky reply. She had no emotion but sometimes it's hard to tell. \"I know, I know. Okay Alie run a diagnostic on the chambers again. But do a deep check and add in the travel plot.\"\n\n\"Analyzing.\" The screen returned to blank as the computer ran its systems check. I became impatient sitting in silence and left the room heading for the seed docks.\n\nThe polished white shine was always blinding after a long dip in the tank, but it was still beautiful. Rows of metal boxes lined the walls, small blue lights filtering through the glass openings. A horror show as it was described to me, people looking as if they were dead surrounding you in metal coffins. I always thought it was funny, because it was one if my favorite places on the ship.\n\n\"Analysis complete.\"\n\n\"Okay, give me the numbers.\"\n\n\"Chamber current stasis, ninety-nine point nine-hundred ninety seven conditional atmospheric optimization. Plot travel distance nine-hundred eighty-seven light years, relative. Stasis optimal.\"\n\nI nodded undertandingly. \"Alie, aren't the numbers off? What's the current optimizations percentage against the relative distance?\" She was silent. \"Alie?\"\n\n\"Error.\"\n\n\"What do you mean error?\" I began to panic.\n\n\"Current distance to destination nine-hundred eighty-seven lightyears. Current optimal stasis length nine-hundred eighty-seven lightyears.\"\n\n\"What? Alie that's not long enough, we have to calculate relative distance. We won't make it there in exactly nine-hundred and eighty-seven lightyears. We have to leave room for error, distance changes, environmental factors...\"\n\n\"I know.\" Came her response.\n\n\"What's the rate of optimal descent if we lower the optimal conditions for enough survival?\"\n\n\"Automatic optimization currently set.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I ran to the near control panel. \"Is it possible?\" I screamed.\n\n\"Best optimization already set.\"\n\nI pounded the panel with a closed fist. \"When did the optimization change?\"\n\n\"Seven twenty-four this morning.\"\n\nI stared at the empty visual screen. \"That's when I asked you to run the equation.\"\n\n\"Affirmative.\"\n\n\"We won't make it. Alie, protocol state emergency level red, stasis failure.\"\n\n\"Confirmed engineer. Chamber one undocked. Awakening crew.\" Four pods rolled out from the wall and a siren roared through the hall competing only with the rush of releasing air.\n\nI ran to the opening pods a bundle of blankets in my arms. They all gasped for air pushing frantically at the glass doors. As quickly as I could I wrapped a blanket over their shoulders and ushered them to the showers.\n\nI could feel my heart pound against my chest, I thought it'd escape if ur pushed any harder. The pools of sweat that welled across my forehead dampened my hair pulling it to my head. Helpless but to pace waiting on the awakened crew I bit at my nails. Finally the last of them wandered into the mess and I slowly enter the room.\n\n\"Hello, my name is Edward Jebitz the head engineer of this ship. I am afraid I have some bad news.\" They stared back blankly, being awake for the first time in years takes time to readjust. \"Unfortunately due to what seems to be a poor simulation test the stasis time was found to be incorrect.\"\n\n\"And that means?\" The rather grumpy captain asked glowering at me.\n\nAttempting to remain as in control as possible I took another deep breath. \"This seed ship will not make it to our planned destination.\"\n\n\"How far off?\" She asked rather calmly.\n\n\"Projections say exact match with our relative distance.\"\n\n\"Well then why'd you wake us?\" One of the crew barked.\n\n\"Where does that put us?\" The captain asked ignoring the other man.\n\n\"Relative distance says we should leave a gap of at least fifty lightyears, and unforeseen environmental factors say at least another ten. In short we could make it or we could fall short sixty lightyears and that's hoping nothing else goes wrong.\"\n\n\"Can we call back home see if anyone can get us back or tell us what to do even?\" The pilot asked jumping from his seat.\n\n\"Unfortunetly we passed the radio barrier around two years ago. We could go back but that means we lose any chance of making it and we might even risk not making it back home in time.\"\n\n\"So we're screwed either way?\"\n\nThe captain frowned looking to the crew and back to me. \"What's your report engineer?\"\n\nI took another breath. \"Well captain, we're adrift in open space, no help, no home. Our only options are to keep going and hope or find a new home somewhere out there.\" I said looking to the nearest window. The empty expanse was filled with only occasional flickers of distant light.\n\n_\n\nr/theoreticalfictions" ]	1
	[WP] you have known for a while that you are death's aide. You help him choose who to take when he is in a quandary. Today the choices are 'unusual'.	[ "People fear the thought of death, them dying…but what about death himself? Is he also feared? My eyes traveled to death himself. My boss. A dark cloak over his head as he tried to hide the dark circles under his eyes. At times he looked normal and others he looked skeletal. Something to do with souls and decomposition as well as the image humans create of him.\n\r\nNot to sure what that actually meant. \n\r\n“Stop slacking. We have a job to do.”\n\r\nDespite how morbid and twisted this job can be there were times where it wasn't just about collecting human souls. Just yesterday I had aided Death in taking the soul of a thousand year old elf. That was not all; turtle gods, werewolf, unicorns, etcetera. It shouldn't surprise me since I worked for death but it did.\n\r\nIn fact now I hoped it was one of those cases. The souls always had adventures to tell and were more understanding in the whole…you're dead thing.\n\r\n“We are here.”\n\r\nI looked around a bit disappointed that it was just a normal apartment room. A mythical forest or something just as significant would have been better. Wait. That couch and coffee table looked oddly familiar. Death gave me a warning glare. Work first. \n\r\nWe walked further in into a small room. At first sight it was normal but then realization hit me. This was my home. Before I had died I had lived here with my little sister and mom. Had my mother died then?\n\r\n“Hello death, sis,” my sister no longer a child stood before us. A small smile in place.\n\r\nShe had been but 10 years old when I died and now she looked around 20. She had surpassed my age by 3 years. That wasn't the point. Why was she not so surprised by the whole situation?\n\r\n“Didn't you wonder why you worked for me as my aide?” Death asked flickering between his human and skeletal form. \n\r\nMy sister laughed in amusement by my expression. “You had always been too naïve Saphie.”\n\r\n“I don't understand,” I looked between the two. \n\r\n“She sold your soul to me when she was ten. That was why you died unexpectedly.”\n\r\n“Why?” I asked in pure bewilderment. \n\r\nShe sighed. “I hated how you had all the attention as the older more mature child. Then you broke my favorite mug. Clearly you had to go. So from a book I read I created a contract and here we are.”\n\r\nMy chest was pounding. I can hear the blood rushing to my ears with a ring. \n\r\n“For a mug!”\n\r\nI clenched my fist as the air turned like ice. A deathly electrifying crackle came from my hands. From the corner of my eye I could see Death smile. One of pure evil and enjoyment. That didn't matter because all I saw was red. I was going to make a really crazy decision but I didn't care. In a whispered breath only I can hear he gave me choices. \n\r\n“As your Aide I'm allowed to choose how to move forward?\"\n\r\nThis time I smiled. I wondered now who looked more demonic, death himself or me? Now what unusual contract shall I form? The possibilities were endless and I was going to make it worth everything. \r\n\n(Not sure if I did this right but it was fun to do none the less.)", "Sitting on the head nurses desk i look at my choices. These are not the choices i would have liked to see that day or ever. Being invisible during my assignments has its benefits, i get to think over these choices. Choice #1 is small, probably the smallest I’ve ever seen, Choice #2 is right next store, not much bigger but much sicker. I can see both rooms from the desks, the nurse taps away at her computer just inches from me, she looks tired and sad. I would think these nurses are angels, but angels are obvious if you have The Sight, they almost hover above the ground and they each have a different aura depending on what they protect.\n\nI look back at my choices, the parents of Choice #1 have tear stained faces with their hands pressed against the plastic, but they look strong. Choice #2’s mom is sitting limply in the chair next to his bed as she hold his little hand. An angel glides up behind me, “It’s not the easiest place to be, Death sent you because even he can’t handle the emotions here”. She moves on to look in on other patients, they could become choices later on, who knows. The angels who roam these halls all have pinkish auras, they protect the innocent but know that they all can’t stay.\n\nI slide off the desk and go into Choice #2’s room, he is breathing on his own now and making progress but still a choice to be taken. I exit and go into Choice #1’s room, her parents stepped away for a much needed meal. She is definitely the smallest I’ve ever come across in the past 5 years. Her chest flutters with from the ventilator breathing for her, she is bruised from being resuscitated. The closer i get to her, the more i see a strange glow. I’ve heard about this before but never witnessed it, i look up to see the angel in the doorway. She smiles sadly and nods her head affirming my theory. It looks as though the choice has been made, and i wasn’t the one that made it.\n\nThe parents enter the room with the Dr in tow, the mother sits down while the father stays standing. They already know the worst is case scenario is about to be presented. The Dr confirms that there is a massive brain bleed and most likely extensive brain damage, tears stream down their faces as their hopes come crashing down. If i could cry i would have, i look over at the little one and see her glow deepening and growing brighter. The parents have made a decision to let her go, the nurses carefully take the little one out of her incubator, detach all the wires and let the parents hold her for the first time. \n\nI watch as she begins to glow even brighter, the glow then moves to the side of her mother taking the form of a young woman. She looks down at her mother and lays a hand on her shoulder as her mother cries. Her aura is pure white, and she is the most beautiful angel I’ve ever seen. It’s the first and hopefully the last time i ever see an angel born from a baby in the NICU.\n\n\n\n**Apologies for any weird formatting" ]	2
	[WP] Aliens have just found an old spaceship in interstellar space and the gold plated disc attached to it. They have just discovered an ancient artifact of the human race, sent into space before the humans became the rulers of the galaxy.	[ "The Xalax Ship was scanning the area, it was a Scientific Ship, so it was routine, scan for any anormality, in the name of the Earth Republic and glorious Leader Michael.\n\nA Xalax Official was walking around the bridge, their names were not possible to pronounce to humans as they did not have the same vocalization system. But communication was manageable. They all had their Xalax name and a human name to when talking to them. This officer's human name was Albert, selected after his favorite Human Scientist. He was a science type guy since he was 10. Good times, under the Rule of Glorious Leader Elizabeth, may She rest in peace. But they were focusing on the scans.\n\n\"So\" said Albert to his subordinates \"do we have anything rare here?\"\n\n\"Well, there is a strange signal, Sir\" said his subordinate, which selected human name was Andres. \"Looks like a primitive ship\"\n\nAlbert looked doubtful, \"This is inter-space, no way a primitive ship would get here. Also, where is the closest primitive planet?\"\n\n\"Around 25 light years away, Sir\" answered a female subordinate, whose human name was Elisa\n\n\"Well, let's see it then\" said Albert\n\nAfter successfully getting the strange ship inside. All the Xanax went to look\n\nThe Golden Disc was of special attention\n\n\"What is this\" asked one of them\n\nAlbert looked at it\n\n\"This is 20th Century Human Technology\" he claimed, and everyone looked in disbelief\n\n\"This is, if I remember right, the Voyager, number... Don't remember. That disc is full of 20th Century American Culture and some information about humans\"\n\nThat was unnaceptable, everyone started to ask for the ship to be destroyed\n\nAlbert had to intervine\n\n\"Look, I know you want to destroy, but this is an historical artifact! We must return it to Earth! Yes, America was the last of the great empires, before humanity reached for the stars, yes, they were the worst bloodthirsty ever in history, overpassing in their last years Nazi Germany and the Glondor Empire combined! But it's still a piece of history! If we found an artifact from the Xanax Empire before the Human Liberation! Would we want to destroy it for their past conquest? No, we would like to keep it in a History Museum! Earth will appreciate this!\"\n\nAlbert pronounced the Xanax name of Elisa\n\n\"Set course for Earth!\"\n\nAndres approached Albert\n\n\"Sir, I'm honestly not too sure if they'll like it. Maybe they'll destroy themselves\"\n\n\"Why would do that?\n\n\"The hate for the American Empire from Humans has been strong in the last century. Victory day generates an extremely enranged reaction in humans, public burning of American flags, destruction of symbols from their decadent culture, things like the like. Are you sure Moscow will be so happy?\"\n\n\"Well, better safe than sorry, as they say...\" Albert said, \"It is not our choice, it's Glorious Leader Michael's Choice, and His choice is always right\"\n\nBoth of the Xanax did a military salute, and screamed \"Slava Michael!\" before returning to their positions, Earth was just a few Light Years ago\n\n\"We are so lucky to live in a Galaxy dominated by Earth, every square of this Galaxy is free now\" Albert thought to himself, \"Under the Xanax Empire I would a soldier, but I can dedicate to Science instead, I love science, and I love our Republic. Thank you so much, Glorious Leaders\"\n\n--------\n\nThis is my first attempt ever at writing something, I hope it's not shitty. If it is, well pardon me, this is my first attempt, I will improve in the future I hope" ]	1
	[WP] You’re a hero trainer, one of your past students has become the most powerful villain. You’re now the only one who can stop them...	[ "\"How did this happen?\"\nThis thought ran through my head as I was running through the streets. Wherever I turned my head, I saw the carnage that was happening, while other heroes tried to help. Unbelievable, that all this madness, all this suffering was done by not some evil organisation, but someone I once considered my student.\nIt all started a few weeks ago, some series of murder, no particular pattern at the first looking. I officialy retired as a hero so I could spend more time with my family and I couldn't be more right in that choice seeing my commitment to society. But.. sometimes fate no matter what you've done, calls you back on the life you think you've left behind....\nIt was 25th of March 2018. Me and my wife Susan - also formerly retired hero known as Mantis - were playing heroes and thiefs with our 8 year old son Marcus. I always played the villain, Mom played a civilian, and Marcus played the superhero named Inferno - That's the name Marcus wants to go by as a superhero. We were playing for like 5 minutes then, we heard knocking on our door. A little confused of who would be I decided to check it out while signalised Susan to be careful. I opened the door quickly reading my lighting powers .\n- Woah, man easy. - The figure said - Is this how you greet your friend now Rick?\nThat figure turned out to be my buddy Roland - superhero name: the Outlaw - now a headmaster of the Roland's Academia of Superhero upstarts. We exchanged a fist bump. \n - Sorry Roland, old habits die hard. - I said to Roland while gesturing to come in - Susan, false alarm It's just Roland.\nWhile we were in dining room, Marcus noticed Roland and went at full speed to hug him \n- Hey you little fire-cracker how's it going? - Roland laughed while he embraced the hug.\n- Very Good Uncle Roland, I'm so glad to see you - Said Marcus\n- Good , very good. Now If you wouldn't mind I have some important stuff to discuss with your folks, so if you could excuse us..\n- oh.. - Marcus was a little upset , like kids are at this certain age, but relucantly left the dinning room.\n- What's the matter Roland? - I asked him, while Susan brought some tea.\n- You probably heard about this murder spree that is happening these past few weeks?\n- Yes we do, It is going all over the social medias. Everybody is panicking as who might be the next target. Why do you ask though? Do you think we have something to do with it? - Said Susan practically worried\n- NO, not at all. - said Roland - But It's somewhat related to you in some way. Rick, do you remember Trevor Stone a.k.a The Ronin?\n- Of course I remember! - I exclaimed - why?\n- The recent investigation backd by tough evidence confirmed that he has become villain. Not some second grade villain, but THE Villain, recently he had manaed to possess a very powerful sword that can open up the portal to Underworld\n- Why would he do that? - I asked - and more importantly why he hasn't been stopped yet?\n- DO YOU THINK WE SAT ON OUR ASSES AND WATCHED? - Yelled Rick, veins practically poped out on his forehead. - We tried multiple times, ambushes, traps , yet he still manged to not only escape, He manged to kill some of the best heroes, man. He killed The Undertaker.\nThat got me shooked. The Undetaker, despite having a very scary presence and name , was one of the oldest, yet stil successful heroes. His power was useful for many reasons , it was powerful and it conserved his age so his body would remain fit. If he of all people died by the hands of Ronin, the world was at the edge of destruction\n- What do you want me to do ? - I asked Roland, while Susan was trying to not cry, keyword trying.\n- I need you... no.. We ALL need you to come back for the last time. To destroy Ronin, before he consumes the whole world in anarchy. It's Time for Raijin to strike lighting at his foes again!\n", "Little of the camp was left. Whatever demon had struck them in the night had been thorough.\n\nWord of a corrupting influence had spread throughout the forest. Something vicious. It had seeped into the soil, turning it black and smelling of ash and magic. It seeped into the trees, draining the colour. In the middle of the winter, the difference between the white thick snow and the pale, dying trees made a stark reminder that the enemy had influenced everything around them.\n\nThings had gone wrong ever since settling here. Something airborne had caused the food to rot far faster than it should have. Not even the cold could keep it good. The water became spoiled, a thin film of black goo lining every barrel within 2 days. Men get sick. One of the recruits died at the hands of another in a training exercise, after which the killer was banished to the woods. She has probably frozen to death by now.\n\nMutinies had occurred and had been put down. Lives were needlessly lost. They came with over a hundred men and women, and now a dozen of both remained. The snow storm hadn't settled. Spirits were down. Everyone huddled in groups together, whispering reassurances that they made it this far and would survive. That they were worthy. Anything to not make them run into the cold and fall asleep.\n\nAt least, I was. These people were my responsibility. Some people were simply not ready. The girl sticks in my mind the most. She had mishandled a crossbow and fired a bolt into someone's neck. Of a man she accused was stalking her, obsessed with her. She was scared. Crying. But rules were rules. No one knew the truth, or were willing to spit it out. No one stuck up for her, and killing a fellow man was not forgivable if there was no indication of self defense. \n\nThat's what I kept telling myself. But I couldn't shake her whimpers out of my mind. Just a little girl shoved into a world too big for her. What would her parents think? What would I think if she was my daughter? I'd be furious. But it's selfish to think of just her. One of my nephews froze to death on a patrol. Lost his mind. Took of his clothes and ran into the freezing water. We hadn't been able to retrieve the body. What am I going to tell his mother?\n\nI look around. Through the crack in my hood, I see Jonas with his arms over the fire. Jana next him, shivering through her thick coat. Mano and Joey next to her. All huddled. All freezing. All survivors. So far, only Joey had shown potential of any power. Lucky for us, it had been fire. A living torch. Very useful these days. He kept the fires lit all over the place. Being able to do that in days like these was remarkable. If he makes it through the next few days, he'll make it to the King's Court. If.\n\nA small....shock. Like a tree falling to the ground, but without the noise. The winds stopped. The blowing, wooshing noise stopped filling everyone's ears. A relief. A calm before the real storm, my bones told me. Nothing that can either stop a snowfall, or have started one, can always be accounted as friendly.\n\nThe relief is shared with the others, but I signaled to keep their guard up, and for Mano and Jonas to come with me. We step outside. The sky is clearing. The air is thick, humid and charged. There is a faint stench to it. Dried blood, but not human blood. My nose told me magic was at play.\n\nI charged my staff and let it settle on the floor. A.....a dead zone? That doesn't make sense. The staff is to detect all lifeforms nearby. There's not supposed to be a dead zone. \n\n\"What's wrong?\" Mano asks. I signal him to shush and point at the southern gate, where the dead zone is. Mano and Jonas move forward, quietly as they can. Not stepping on the snow, but carefully moving through it, no crunching. Good. They had paid attention.\n\nThe air became clearer and clearer as the snow stopped falling. Before long, all the snow had fallen and we could see the camp clearly for the first time in over a week. The gate had been completely covered with snow, same as the walls. The ladders couldn't be scaled. We need dig teams to secure the perimeter and dig out the walls, well and whatever other structures got covered.\n\n\"Hello?!\"\n\nThe cry came from beyond the gate, in the middle of the dead zone. How did anyone survive this for so long? I signaled for the men not to answer. This was wrong in so many ways.\n\n\"Is anyone out there?\"\n\nTrap. This is a trap. No way it isn't. Is it the girl? She couldn't have survived this long. I signaled for the men to retreat, but they refused. \n\n\"Who'se out there?\" Mano responded.\n\n\"Please, I'm starving! I need help!\"\n\n\"What's your name?\"\n\nNo response. Some kind of amateur? Is she afraid of us? \n\n\"Wh-why do you need my name? Just let me in!\"\n\n\"....Is that you, Jessie?\"\n\nNo reaction. Everyone was quiet. No wind. No snow. It was like the world was holding its breath. My eyes were watering from all the white, all the snow. I looked around. She couldn't have done this alone. Someone helped her. But who? There's no one else out there.\n\nWith a yell, the snow at the gate evaporated and the gate itself was blasted open. The sudden heat and shockwave knocked me to the ground. An inhuman roar filled my ears as I tried to regain my ground. Whoever was left scrambled for their weaponry. The ground shook, thud by thud. A bipedal giant, furry creature the length of two fully grown men had crashed through the snow behind us and charged after the armory. Where in the blazing hell did that come from? How did it hide from me? From the staff.\n\nI got up and turned back to the gate. A girl stood there, holding up her arms in amazement. It wasn't her. This girl was taller and thinner. Long blond hair and tattoos all over her face. She wasn't packed in thick clothing, she wore scraps. What the hell is going on?\n\nI retreated, heading for the same direction as my men. I glanced behind me and made eye contact with her. She recognized me. How? I kept going.\n\nThe giant had reached the armory and crashed through it, but it was too late. Several warriors had retrieved crossbows and were pelting it with bolts. Its back and arms were covered, but it barely seemed to slow it down. It was covered in blood, several broken bodies on the floor next to it.\n\nI drew upon the magic of my stuff and sent a stunning bolt straight to its face. It hit, sending the creature reeling as it reached for its face. The remaining warriors took their opportunity, slashing at its legs and knees and shooting it. Another explosion from behind rocked all of us, sending me back to the floor. Before I got up, someone planted a boot on my back.\n\n\"Nobody move!\", the girl screamed behind me.\n\nThey all turned their attention to her. i turned my head to get a glimpse of her. She had 1 arm pointed at me, some sort of distorting effect around it. What kind of person can simply summon magic and fire it it haphazardly? The other arms she pointed at the group. The giant grumbled, the bass noise of his throat could be felt in my heart. How had we not encountered these 2 before?\n\n\"Looks like morale didn't improve while I was gone. Shame that didn't work out, chief.\" The girl said.\n\n\"Last time?\", I grunted, \"I've never seen you before.\"\n\n\"Maybe not, but I think you know who I am. Always were a clever man. What drives someone to simply throw out anyone in a blizzard to die due to an accident?\"\n\n\"Jessie, this is not you.\"\n\n\"Well, I did die out there, and woke up all pretty and such. So I suppose you're right. This isn't the old me. Not anymore.\"\n\n\"Whatever happened, whoever did this to you, they are the one who we have been looking for!\"\n\nWas it the giant? Maybe great intelligence hidden behind a beastly appearance. Wouldn't have been the first time something as such appeared in his life. In concept.\n\n\"I'm angry, Josiah. I was told you were a good man. That you'd take care of me.\"\n\n\"You're angry with me? That's fine. I get that. But no need for anyone else to get hurt.\"\n\n\"I can't let anyone walk away. Except for you. There's plans for you.\"\n\nShe was reckless and had no clue what she was doing. She might still be traumatized. She wants a fight. Or to prove herself. She's fragile. All he needed to do was hit her right where it hurt.\n\n\"Let's settle this, then. You and me, one on one. You beat me, You do what you want with everyone here. I win, you leave and take your giant with you.\"\n\n\"You can't win that.\"\n\n\"Why bother refusing, then?\"\n\n\"...Alright then. Let's play your game.\"\n\nShe got her foot off of my back and stepped back. Everyone around us cleared the way. My back hurt. My group pulled the fallen out of the way, the giant backed up and made his way around us. It tore several tents apart, making a clearing for Jessie and me. I saw the glare he shot at her. This wasn't part of their plan.\n\nI stretched out and exhaled, gripping my staff. Now or never. Jessie stood away from me. I didn't have a good shot at this. She had more raw power than me. One well aimed blast and she'd crush me. But she didn't know what she was doing. She couldn't possibly have been trained. Someone put her to this. Corrupted her. I'll have to save her. Or maybe she's a lost cause. I didn't know. All I knew was that she had weaknesses I could exploit. And a group of people relying on me to pull them through.\n\nSo this is what it felt like to be a hero.\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP]: Some people talk in their sleep. Some walk in their sleep. Your spouse... Shapeshifts.	[ " Some people talk in their sleep, hell, some even walk in their sleep. My husband, David, isn’t one of them. He snores, which isn’t unusual, but when he doesn’t snore.... that’s when things get creepy. For years, I had endured wall rattling snores from my spouse. I had taken to staying up late and reading or crafting, anything to put some distance between me and the source of my late night headaches. Last week, my husband took sympathy on my plight and started using some nose bands and other devices to help reduce his noisy output. I didn’t really believe they would work, but they seemed to be doing okay. My staying up late, however, had become a habit and I found it difficult to fall asleep. As the minutes ticked by, I heard my husband moaning from his side of the bed. I thought perhaps the devices were causing him discomfort or the covers had come off him and he was chilled. I turned over and went to place my arm over him to soothe his slumber. Something wasn’t right, though. The covers sank beneath the weight of my arm far lower than if he were lying on his back. I didn’t want to disturb his sleep because I had misplaced my arm over him, so I got up and went to the master bath and switched on the light, leaving the bathroom door slightly ajar. The light slanted across our bed and I could see my husband’s side of the bed but the shape was all wrong. I crept back to my side and tugged on the covers. As the comforter slid off the bed on my side I screamed. In an instance the blob like mass I thought was consuming my beloved, reformed and my husband, now wide awake and freaked out, was shouting at me, “What? What’s the matter? What happened?” \n\n“I thought ... NO! I saw ... It looked like ... something ... was on you,” I stuttered out. “Only... only, it was you.”\n\n“What?! Are you EVEN awake? You’re not making sense.” He spat out. “Go to bed! You just had a damn nightmare!” \n“I can’t believe you woke me up screaming,” he muttered as he turned back over, “Don’t even know if I’m going to be able to get back to sleep now and I have work in a few hours.”\n\n“What are you doing just standing there? Get back in bed and go to sleep, your freaking me out just standing there,” he said as I stood frozen and unsure on my side of the room.\n\n“I can’t. I CAN’T! Not yet, I just CAN’T. You didn’t SEE what I did. It was SO real. It feels so real, STILL.” I cried out. \n“You were moaning, and ... I went to put my arm around you, and ... only ... the covers sank to low, so I turned on the bathroom light to see what was going on and I saw it.” I babbled out.\n“It looked like the blob was eating you. AND I KNOW THE BLOB IS JUST A DAMN MADE UP THING FOR A MOVIE, SO DON’T EVEN GO THERE!” I yelled. “But I SAW IT and when I screamed it went away and you were like you always are.”\n\nDave gave a frustrated sigh as he got up and moved towards me, “Look! Hon, you had a nightmare!”\n\n“NO! STOP! Please!” I begged, “Don’t hurt me ... please.”\n\nHe stopped for a moment, looking perplexed. “I’ve never hurt you. Why would you think I’m going to start now?” He paused for a moment, then reached out his hand to me. “Look, I’m just going to show you that it was all a dream so that we can go back to bed and get some sleep.”\n\nI felt a whimper escape me as his hand took ahold of me and he pulled me in close. It had all seemed so real, but he was right. He felt normal and it WAS late at night. Maybe my eyes HAD played tricks on me. But a part of me remembered every horror show I had ever seen. The monsters, humans or otherwise, would lull their victim(s) into a false sense of security then, BAM, they’d be dead. What I saw, it couldn’t be real though. Could it? What HAD I seen?\n\n“Come on,” David said, “I’ll hold you so you can sleep better.”\n\nI shivered at the thought, just not in a good way. I didn’t see any way to get out of this, and still sound sane, so I turned to face him as we laid back down. I didn’t want to have him at my back and wonder if he was changing again. The thought was scarier than knowing. If he did change, I was going to see it, because I was pretty sure I would NOT be sleeping tonight. I just didn’t know what I could do if he changed while holding me. I shivered at the thought. He started to get up and I was sure he was going to turn off the bathroom light. I panicked and said, “NO! Please, leave it on. Just this once, leave it on.” \n\nDavid gave a huff, but let it go and pulled me close. “Go to sleep, dingbat,” he chuckled at me. “You can feel that I’m my normal self.” \n\nI really thought I wouldn’t sleep, but when I woke up it was later than usual for me. The events of the night before immediately came to mind. I looked to my husband’s side of the bed and shuddered as I wondered if he had become that creepy blobby thing again and what, if anything, it might mean to me. The light of day chased the shadows away and I began to laugh at myself for wondering if my husband was at work or had turned into something, or someone else. It really was ridiculous, now that I thought about it. We had been married for years. I think if he was some sort of shape shifting blob I would have discovered it before now. Unless, it was the result of some recent change. I didn’t know what, if any, chemicals were on, or in, the things he was using to help stop his snoring, or even if he had been exposed to something at his work. It seemed kind of ridiculous to think something my husband had encountered had altered his DNA in some way so drastic as to cause him to shift into some sort of amorphous shape. The thing that had me worried about all this, though, was wondering if his mind became as mushy as his body did. If all this was real, and I hadn’t imagined it, then was David still the beloved Dave I knew when he was all blobby looking. \n\nOh GOD, why was I still obsessing over this. There is absolutely NO WAY it was real. I went and took a shower and washed away the lingering tension from my self inflicted scare and went on to my daily household chores.\n\nI endured quite a few days worth of teasing from Dave about my late night/early morning freak out. Things had just settled down to almost normal again when one night Dave’s snoring went quiet again. I heard him moan and my eyes went wide. I remember thinking, “That ASSHOLE better not be pranking me.” as his arm came over me and went all slimy again.", "A nurse opened the door, peering into the mostly-empty waiting room. \"Smith, John? The doctor will see you now.\"\n\nI sighed and got to my feet. A few minutes later, and I was sitting on a comfortable chair in - this time - the psychologist's office. Small talk out of the way, he asked, \"So, why are you here?\"\n\nI cleared my throat. \"It's... my wife. She's... look, it's crazy!\"\n\nThe doctor nodded. \"It's ok; I'm not here to judge, or even make decisions until you say what you need to say. I'm here to help.\"\n\n\"She... she's a chicken. Well, sometimes.\"\n\nHis eyebrows furrowed, and he tilted his head. \"She... believes she is a chicken?\"\n\nI shook my head. \"You're saying... you sometimes see her as a chicken?\"\n\nI grimace. Ok, yeah, I had that coming. \"Yes, but... not exactly. I don't see her as a chicken. I don't imagine she's wearing feathers and clucking about. I mean... she is a chicken. Sometimes. When she's sleeping.\"\n\nI could see the look on his face; not make decisions, indeed. \"Ok, look. This guy goes into a psychologist's office and says, hey doc, my wife's crazy! She thinks she's a chicken! It's been going on for years! Then the doc says, years? Why didn't you come sooner? The guy answers, I would have but I needed the eggs!\"\n\nThe psychologist's brows shifted, from \"This guy is insane\" to \"this guy is an idiot, but he's paying me good money.\" Not the best shift, but whatever.\n\n\"This isn't a joke. Sure, yeah, maybe I'm hallucinating. Maybe I woke up in the middle of the night, only thought I found a chicken in my bed, and actually hauled my wife into the garage and locked her in. Maybe I actually got an egg out of the fridge myself, and dropped it in bed. It's within the realm of possibility. Maybe I am crazy. But... I saw it. With my own eyes. I watched my wife shrink and grow feathers. I watched her settle into her pillow and lay an egg.\"\n\nI leaned back, unable to continue. I shrugged helplessly. \"Am I crazy?\"\n\nThe doctor steepled his fingers. \"How often do you witness this?\"\n\n\"It started about six weeks ago, and since then... three or four times. More frequently as time goes on. It's only when she's sleeping; I haven't tried to wake her up while... she's a chicken... because I'm afraid she'll... stick that way.\"\n\nThe doctor took a few moments before he answered. \"John, I think you know it's not possible for your wife to... morph into a chicken. You said so yourself, and I can tell you doubt your own sanity. However, the mind is a very powerful thing; dreams, especially, seem very real while we are in them, and even afterwards, some dreams have a tinge of reality. If certain chemicals in the brain are out of balance, dreams and reality seem to bleed into each other, with what is real seeming to be a dream, and dreams - or even fantasy - feeling, at the time and afterward, like reality.\"\n\nI shook my head. \"No, I'm sorry. I wasn't dreaming; it's not like I had a nightmare and locked my wife in the garage. After the second time, I wrote myself a note - see?\"\n\nI fished the wad of paper from my pocket. The doctor gave it a cursory glance and handed it back. \"I don't doubt you did. Have you ever woken from a dream, and for a moment, felt as if what happened in the dream really happened? It's possible to experience waking dreams - hallucinations, if you will - where you are, to all appearances, awake, and can interact, write notes, even carry on conversations, but in reality, your mind is in a dream-like state.\"\n\nI pulled out my phone. \"Which sounds great, but... don't say I didn't warn you.\"\n\nI held out my phone. For a few minutes, the screen didn't change - it showed a black-and-white scene, my wife and I asleep in bed. As I rolled over, my wife twitched; she slowly sat up, then in a smooth motion, her legs drew close to her body and she shrank down. Her pajamas slipped off, revealing... a chicken. She rustled her feathers and snuggled into the pile of pajamas.\n\nI poked the screen, and the image fast-forwarded, through me rolling over again, and finally - just as I slowed the video - her shape-shifting back into human form, the blanket she had snuggled over barely hiding keeping her modesty intact. She reshaped into human form, but in the same position - legs tucked under her, arms at her side, sitting up. Slowly, she toppled over onto her pillow. She startled awake, and after a moment, realized she was unclothed. She turned, slapped my sleeping form on the shoulder, and began to pull on her pajamas. I paused the video.\n\n\"See? Chicken. You... you saw that, right?\"\n\nFor a long moment, the doctor stared at the phone. Finally, he spoke. \"I... I don't know what to say. Your wife... either this is some spectacularly good video editing, or... Cluck me, I don't...\"\n\nI blinked. The psychologist's eyes widened. \"Oh... uh...\"\n\nSuddenly, he pressed the intercom button on his desk. \"Nurse! Sedative, now!\"\n\nI barely had time to process what was happening before the door slammed open, and I felt a sharp pain blossom in my shoulder. The room started to spin as my muscles relaxed and my eyes grew heavy. Dimly, I could hear the doctor speaking. \"He knows - it looks like Agent 6373 got sloppy. We'll cross that road when we come to it, but for now, we're going to have to move up the timetable. The invasion must begin... As it says in the Book of Larson, we will see each other again... on the far side. As for Mr. Smith... I think the cows may like a word with him.\"", "I was a happily married man. My wife was a beautiful woman from South Korea, and had taken on the nickname “Bea.” I never knew much about Bea’s past, but I didn’t question her. She was the love of my life, always willing to listen to how my day at work went, or waking up early to make me a lunch that she put a little note in to brighten up my day at the office. I felt like I learned something new about Bea everyday, including her customs. Bea refused to eat anything that included grapes in any way. It was weird, but I accepted it. She also needed to sleep in a room by herself. I was disappointed at first, but I had learned to be okay with it. One night, though, when I was watching Family Fued late on a Friday, I heard a lot of noise coming from her room. “Bea?” I asked. No response. Just a bunch of bumps. I was concerned. I grabbed my robe and tied it shut, and I waddled over to her room. I knocked the door. “Hello? Are you okay in there?” Still no response, just more bumping. And the bed springs creaking. The thought occurred to me like a smack in the face. Was she cheating on me?? I opened the door to just the slightest crack and took a little peek... and I stifled a scream. There was an alligator on the bed!! it had its eyes closed, so I figured it was asleep, so I walked in. It was squirming, making expressions I’d never seen an alligator make before. Then it made a concerned Face I’d only seen one place before. It was a face that Bea would make when I came home and told her I had a rough day at work, and I could be fired. It was pure compassion. As I was standing there, the alligator stopped moving, and started... changing. Its front legs changed into wings, its back legs into claws. It changed, before my eyes, into a bald eagle!! I stayed there, even more astonished, and realized something. Where was Bea? Maybe this... thing had taken her somewhere. I slowly walked up to it... and ruffled its feathers. It began changing again, but its eyes were opening. It became humanoid, its claws became feet, and... and... it was Bea.\n\n\nI might make a part 2 or something but only if this gets some support cuz I’m tired" ]	3
	[WP] Humanity left Earth many Millennia ago to find new homes in the stars. Today, your starship, and thousands of others, will gather at a safe distance to watch it be consumed by the dying Sun.	[ "She looks so different from when we first left her. Her vibrant skin and flowing hair are all but grey and withered, resembling everything and everyone else in the midst of decay. In her youth, her beauty was unmatched. She was capable of anything and everything, and, though she can be righteously indignant, cruel, and unforgiving, she always made sure her children knew that they were loved. Now, on her deathbed, her clouded eyes looked at nothing, blankly staring into nothing. I wish she could have at least been granted a momentary flash of awareness, that she could have looked upon the faces of all her sons and daughters to see how much they have grown, how great and indestructible they have become; and smile at her grandchildren's children, letting them know all will work out in the end, and that the suffering has some kind of greater meaning. There was, however, nothing.\n\nThere were those that developed great projects promising to save her, telling splendid stories of how they would do it. One agency developed a proposal to harness the energy from a young star, another the manipulation of dark matter, both of which were rejected, just as many other proposals were. We tried to convince the council that she was indeed worth saving, to put forth maximum effort and resources into rescuing her, but ultimately, the cost of these hopeless endeavors combined with the ostensible trivial returns and growing public disinterest ended all projects to save her, sealing her fate; not that it would have mattered much anyway since it was all hopeless--we couldn’t have even convinced ourselves. But none of that matters now. \n\nThe small crew aboard the Elpis gathered in hololab. The captain initiated the live holo-stream herself, and the excitement, joy, expressions of sorrow, and everything else in between dissipated with the simulated reality that brought to life the perfectly spherical forms of all the planets, their moons, and every other cosmic entity on the verge of doom--I often wonder if they are ever aware of their inevitable fate. It’s quiet now; dark, dark, dark. As the last light returned into itself, we saw our mother go with it.", "We all sat solemnly at our tables, watching on the large wall-mounted screen far in front of the auditorium as a voice rang from the roof and walls around us, saying in a calm, quiet voice. \"Now, Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be giving a final goodbye to planet where we all began, the planet of all of our forefathers, the Earth.\" At his words shivers rang through my body, and my throat caught up in a strange manner, at first I was confused at such a reaction, but soon I understood. I, just like most of the people there, had learned most of the basics on our planet Earth long before, we had seen pictures of it, read about it and all its history, dreamed about it, but never before, never in all my studies and learning, had I felt such a connection to it as then. I wasn't the only one, it seemed, for the whole auditorium lay quiet, everyone in it holding their breath.\n\n\"As I'm sure many of you already know, this planet, our Earth, has aged quiet a bit since we first left it\" he said with a sad chuckle. \"Many millennia have passed, and since then its orbital star has gotten quiet unstable. So unstable, in fact, that our scientists expect that it will reach the end of its life in just about,\" he checked his holoread, \"five paratids from now. Unfortunately enough, the Earth is positioned very much past the safe zone for such an event, and thus as a final goodbye to our ancient relic we will now be watching it take its final breaths.\" The host paused for a moment, his demeanor very different from the eccentric, joyous mood he had before. \"As you can see we have transmitted a live feed of the event to the screen in front of you, but there are also windows to the far right to cover all of your viewing conveniences.\" Then with a final, showman-like bow he concluded, \"This is Maxwell Dominic, and I hope you love the show.\"\n\n And just like that he was gone, probably to a private room to watch the event himself. I hadn't noticed him leaving, I was too entranced by the screen far in front, lured in by the planet I had heard so much about, yearned so much to see in person, but only got to look at now, when its lying on its deathbed, awaiting its end. It was the old, dying father of humanity, and we were once the child, but now we were grown, visiting after so long to say goodbye for the last time. The planet that had nurtured us and made us, developed us to what we were now, and we were giving it its last thank you by finally coming back to give it the love it craved. A man sitting at a table in front of me got up, simply covering his face a bit as he shuffled to the bathrooms at the back, I assume now that he couldn't handle it. He couldn't handle saying goodbye, because although he may have never set his foot on our Planet, he still felt some of it in him, a welcoming feeling the came deep from within. We all felt it, and we were scared of losing it. That must by why my hand shook as I raised my glass into the air, others following as they one by one raised theirs too. Then finally, the sun lost the battle with its uncontrollable energy, and just before the Earth disappeared under the white blast of the supernova, I looked at it one last time, and although I knew it meant nothing, gave it the only thing I could.\n\nThank you\n\nThe blast slowly faded, and when it went, the Earth was gone. Silence filled the auditorium, and we were left empty and depressed, the loss of hundreds of thousands of years of history deep in our minds. Slowly, some of us brought our glasses down, and on drained the drink inside it, and more and more people followed. I lowered my hand too, and looking deeply into the light golden liquid, took a sip.\n___________________________________________________________________________________________\n\nIf you're reading this, thank you for going through the mess of a story I just wrote. Never did this before and will definitely try straightening out my writing and making it much less corny later. I've always wanted to write and this is the first complete beginning to end story I've made so I wont mind too much if its not the best, I kind of expect that, for that reason constructive criticism would be appreciated.\n" ]	2
Like getting out of eating at the company dinner, getting out of hygiene management, etc.	[WP] You are an alien who has just arrived on Earth. You use complex cloaking technology and pheromones to masquerade as a human and get other humans to accept you as one of their own. The only problem is that your anatomy is completely different from a human's, forcing you must avoid normal events.	[ "I had done it to myself. With the cloaking technology, pheromones, and countless hours of watching human interactions, I had become the first member of my species to do what no one on my planet had been able to do yet. \n\nBlend in with the humans.\n\nBut I had blended in too well. Every weekend, I was being invited to something. Drinking. Dancing. Hunting trip. Fishing trip. Birthday party, et cetera. And I had managed to successfully avoid them all without hurting anybody's feelings too much. \n\nThat is, until my boss cornered me in the hallway while I was on my way to lunch. \n\n\"Here's your invitation to the company party,\" she said, smiling widely at me as she slipped me the card. \n\nI smiled politely and tried to give it back. \"Thank you, but I don't know if I'll be able to make it.\"\n\n\"Don't think I haven't noticed,\" she said. \"That you haven't showed up to a single company event that I've hosted.\" Her voice dropped low as she moved in closer. \"It's almost like...like you're trying to avoid me or something...\"\n\nWhoa. Wait, what? What was happening right now?\n\n\"I like you,\" she continued. \"No, no. Don't look so scared. Not in that way. You're a hard worker, nice...mysterious.\" She smiled. \"And I keep giving you the opportunity to become bigger than what you are. I can introduce you to people. But you just keep running. I've never met anyone with so many skills that was so content with not being noticed.\"\n\nThis felt a little too personal for me. There I was, with my back literally against the wall, while my boss pressed in on me with an undertone in her voice that belied her words. \n\nOut of the corner of my eyes, I scanned the hallways to see if anybody else was witness to this weird spectacle going on. But she had timed this well. Everyone on my floor had gone out to lunch and the coast was clear.\n\nHer smile widened as if she had read my thoughts. \"I don't care if your mother died. I better see you at this party, or I'll be highly upset. Capiche?\"\n\nTranslation: Show up to the party or you're fired.\n\nHer eyes ran down my body and I shivered. Then she turned on her heels and walked away. \n\nThat night, I had a talk with my home planet. \"I'm coming home. Tonight.\"\n\n\"What? why? You can't! This operation is going so smooth.\"\n\n\"It's been two years, guys.\" I grabbed a suitcase and began to fill it, then stopped when I realized I wouldn't need any of the clothes I was packing. So, I started to pack other stuff that I thought might fit well in my planet's museum, perhaps. \n\n\"C'moooon, are you serious?\" whined the voice on the other end. \n\n\"Did you see what that lady did to me?\"\n\n\"Yes, but human male sometimes like that sort of thing. She's attractive. I think you should go for it.\"\n\n\"I'm coming home. You should have other members trained by now. If not, I'll train them. They can watch my tapes or whatever. But I AM NOT staying here. Period. And, in fact,\" I said, gathering more steam, \"you should be rooting for me to pull out. If I go to this thing and my condition gets discovered, then what?\"\n\n\"Humans have all sorts of weird conditions. Just because your heart is in your forearm, I'm sure they'll understand.\"\n\n\"Riiight,\" I drawled sarcastically. \"After they send me to a doctor who's going to start poking and prodding until they found out my true condition.\"\n\nThere was silence on the other end. I thought I had hung up by accident. \"Hello?\" I said into the receiver. \n\n\"The Council said they would let you come back, on one condition.\"\n\nI frowned. \"What condition?\"\n\n\"There's going to be an important man at this party. We need you to kill him. \n\nI laughed. \"Good one, guys. So, where are you going to pick me up from and at what time?\"\n\n\"We're serious. Kill this man and then you can return.\"\n\n\"I'm a spy. I signed up to be a spy. Not an assassin. I did my part. If you want that guy dead, then send someone - an assassin - to do it. But leave me out of it.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry you said that, but we appreciate knowing where you stand.\"\n\n\"What? What does that me-\"\n\nClick. The phone went dead in my ear.\n" ]	1
	[WP] After passing away you discover that heaven does indeed exist. However, upon arriving at the pearly gates you discover that it's been closed for over 1000 years.	[ "\"I've lived a good life\" I thought as i laid there dying. I wasn't perfect but I tried to be a good person. I figured even as an atheist, if there is a god somewhere out there, surely they'd rather have a kind and generous person than a stingy malcontent. My breath became more labored and my vision began to get blurry. I could feel it. Death was upon me. I wasn't scared, just... ready. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nI suddenly realized I was no longer in my body. To my left appeared a staircase leading up. Odd, it wasn't there previously. Upon approach I realized it was an escalator that was not powered. I shrugged and decided to make the climb. It was like something out of a dream. I could see earth getting lower and lower as I climbed up this staircase. It seemed to never end. Finally after what seemed like years I was at the top, but there was nothing there. \"Bizarre\" I muttered out loud.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI reached up, around, down, I was looking for a button or something. Reaching up, I felt a solid door? Yes it was a solid door, but I couldn't see it. Feeling around, I grabbed the knob and turned. It swung open revealing a wondrous land with a magnificent looking castle. Except the castle and lands appeared to be deserted. \"What's going on?\" I wondered. Looking around, I decided to approach the gates of the giant castle. They were lavish, if not unkempt. Tried to open the gates but they were locked.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nI decided to wander around the side of the castle. Eventually I found a breach in the wall. There were ancient looking corpses strewn around what appeared to be the site of an ancient battle. Given the sheer number of dead, surely this battle was bigger than any battle previously conceived. It was a haunting sight to see. Yet something urged me to continue on. So I did.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs I walked further into the castle countryside, the flame scorched land lay unrecovered from that battle. \"Where do the dead go when they die?\" I asked myself aloud. \"Oblivion\" I heard a feeble voice behind me say. I turned around and saw what looked like a man. He appeared old, weary, and tired of existence. \"You're the first one in over 800 years to make the trip here. It's Steven, am I correct?\" I nodded and said \"Yes sir, but how did you know?\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I know many things, but it's of little importance. You've come to a cemetery. There's nothing for you here my son.\" I was a little dumbfounded. \"Who are you?\" I asked. \"This was my kingdom, a long time ago\" he said. \"I was in charge. And in all my wisdom I couldn't see what was right in front of me. Look, you had a long trip getting here. There are still some good places in the castle. Come. It'll be nice to have some company for a change.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs we walked to the castle I noticed that the corpses now appeared to have avian features. Wings, but still human. Some had what looked like ram horns. It was starting to come together. I was in heaven and virtually everyone died in an ancient war. Sensing I had stopped and was looking at the carnage around me, the kind old man turned around and said \"Ask your question.\" I nervously coughed and asked \"Are you God?\" He looked around and said, \"That's what they used to call me. I even believed my own hype. I lost everything because of it. Now I'm simply happy to have someone here to visit with.\"", "I stared up at the pearly gates, their golden sheen all the more luminous in dim glow of dusk. The heavy iron chains, along with the aged blackened lock, somehow made their beauty all the more poignant. I looked around, but I was all alone. I shook the chains, just in case. No luck. I shook them again, with a few choice curses for good measure.\n\nSuddenly, a single trumpet's fanfare rolled across the clouds, and I could see a gate open further down the way. I started into a run but was stopped short when a man came out. He was a heavyset man and his heavenly robes seem ill fitted. And the thick black glasses seemed oddly out of place as well. \n\nBut nevertheless, the man strode up with purpose and held up a hand. In the other he clutched a clipboard. It was then he said the following-\n\n\"Sorry sir, Heaven's closed. Angel out front shoulda told ya.\"", "The young man looked around confused. Where was he? How did he get here? The last thing be remembered was riding his bicycle down Fairmont and hearing tires screeching... What the fuck?? he thought to himself, wondering if he was dead. \nHe saw a large gate up ahead and made his way towards it. It had heavy chains securing the gate closes and an old sign the said CLOSED INDEFINITELY hung at a skewed angle. He rattled the chains to no avail.\nAs he walked the perimeter of the wall that the gate was attached to, he heard a faint murmuring as if many people chanting in unison. As he got closed he could make out the words, or rather numbers. \"47,684,201! 47,684,201! 47,684,201!\" Perplexed he looked for a way to look over the high wall, but there was no hand holds and nothing to push close to the wall and stand on to catch a glimpse of what was going on over there. \nFrustrated, noticed a small hole in the wall. He rushed over to the hole and put his eye up to it to take a peek. Just then a broom handle came flying through the hole and jabbed him in the eye! \"47,684,202! 47,684,202!\"", "One man died and went to Heaven, but saw a sign that said Heaven was closed. Dejected, he turned and walked away.\n\nShortly after that man had gone, another man died and went to Heaven. When he saw the sign, he asked St. Peter, who was standing nearby, \"So when people die, where do they go?\"\n\nSt. Peter pointed in the direction that the previous man had gone in and said, \"They usually go that way.\"\n\nAfter that man had gone, a third man died and went up to Heaven. But when this man saw the sign, he began to pry the gates apart.\n\nSt. Peter rushed up to him and asked, \"What are you doing?\"\n\n\"I dont believe it,\"the man replied. \"God promised that we would be with Him in Heaven forever if we believe. And, three things I know if I dont know any other.\"\n\nCurious, St. Peter asked, \"And what's that?\"\n\nThe man ticked off his fingers. \"God loves me. God doesn't change. And God doesn't lie.\"\n\n\"But the sign...\"\n\nThe man took the sign, threw it on the ground, and began prying open the gates. When the gates were opened, all the people in Heaven screamed, \"Surprise!\"\n\n\"What's going on?\" the man asked.\n\nGod emerged from the crowd with a pleased smile on His face. \"You passed. You had faith in My Word, and you did not turn back. Instead, you came after me and now Heaven is yours to enjoy.\"\n\nSt. Peter said, \"Okay, everyone. Close the door. I see the next person coming up.\"\n\nThe gates were closed and God began to show the man around Heaven. It was better than the man had even imagined. But something still troubled him.\n\n\"God,\" he said. \"That sign on the gate said that Heaven had been closed for 1,000 years. Was that...was that a lie?\"\n\n\"No,\" God said sadly. \"People don't really read the Bible in depth anymore. And if they do, they don't believe what it says.\"" ]	4
	[WP] You're on your way to work when a man in a banana suit drives by. Then another. Then another. Dear god, they're everywhere.	[ "I thought to myself, “What is going on???”\n\nSo I toon a huge u-turn, and drove to the costume store. I had to be a part of all of this banana rama nana.\n\nBut fuck. The costume store was all out of the banana suits.\n\nSo I ran speedy to the next aisle to see if there was something else I could wear.\n\nAnd there it was. It was perfect. A donut costume.", "Curious, I decided to follow one of the banana-suited people in my car. They all exited the highway off the same area, and then drove through town as it became less and less dense. I followed behind them for miles as the roads went from three lanes filled with cars, to two, to a single empty rural street, and then finally a dirt road that led up to a farm. The cars parked in front of the building in a large gravel lot, and I followed suit, watching as dozens of people in banana suits climbed out of their cars and walked into the farm building.\n\nBut as I took a closer look at my neighbors, I threw my hands over my mouth in shock. Their legs and arms weren't protruding out from inside the banana through holes… they were protruding from–\n\n\"Hey there partner!\" came a jolly voice from outside my window. A banana-man was smiling at me and waving. As he moved around, one quarter of the peel on his banana slipped down, bringing his face along with it, revealing behind him nothing but yellow banana flesh.\n\nI stared at him, frozen in horror, as he fumbled for his fallen peel and smoothed it back up so his face was staring at me again.\n\n\"Oh! Looks like I made a little slip there,\" he said with a chuckle. \"No big deal. They can glue me up inside.\" Pressing one hand above his head to keep the peel in place, he continued talking. \"Anyway, you new here? You're still wearing your old clothes, I see. No need for those here, friend! Come on in with me.\"\n\nHe opened my door and I could no nothing except stand up and follow him. I marched alongside him with the other banana-people, some of them still wearing shirts and pants, their banana extremities were peeking out from their tops and bottoms. I was the only one without some sort of yellow protrusion.\n\n\"You still on Phase One?\" the banana-man asked me, looking me up and down. \"Don't worry. It took about a week for me to really get going. I'm sure you'll be fine.\"\n\nI was too stunned to say anything. I just walked inside with the group. What I saw horrified me.\n\nIt was a massive sterile building populated by banana-people, scientists, and armed guards. The banana-people were split into groups, and they were all rubbing themselves over each other as the scientists took notes and the guards watched over impassively. The banana-man gave me a nudge and pointed to a room off to the side.\n\n\"You should wait there for your assignment,\" he said. \"I've got work to do, but hopefully I'll see you around!\"\n\nHe pat me on the back and walked away. All I wanted to do was run to my car and make a break out of there, but I'd already been spotted by one of the guards. I figured I should play along for now, explain the misunderstanding, and then pretend like this never happened. I plastered a grin on my face and walked over to the door, entering a small room with chairs and a TV that was already on. No one else was there, so I just sat down in the front row and listened to whatever the TV was spouting.\n\n\"In a mere ten years, bananas as we know them will be extinct,\" the announcer said. Images of bananas were being shown alongside happy, playful music. \"The bananas we eat today are essentially infertile mutants, so inbred over thousands of years of human interference, that they have lost all immunity to diseases. And with the recent Panama disease and black Sigatoka ravaging banana crops across the world, bananas are in danger.\n\n\"But thanks to you and your generous body donation, bananas may yet be saved! We can't force bananas to reproduce, but with your help, we might be able to make a whole lot of banana babies and save the sweet treats for generations to come.\"\n\nI was sweating in my seat. These people… were actually bananas? Trying to keep the species alive through some sort of horrific human/banana hybridization? \n\nI couldn't breathe. Sweat poured down my forehead. I needed to get out of here now!\n\nI stood to leave, but as soon as I was on my toes, a scientist walked into the room escorted by an armed guard. This guard didn't have a gun; he had a massive mechanical claw.\n\n\"It seems like you've stumbled upon our little experiment here,\" the scientist said. \"You have two choices. You can either devote your life to a great cause and work with us, or your life can end here.\"\n\nIt wasn't a choice. I didn't want to become a banana-person, but what else could I do? It was clear that I wouldn't be able to appeal to reason. I swallowed down hard. \n\n\"Fine, I'll join,\" I said. \"I guess I'm ripe for the picking. There's no way to split.\"\n\nThe scientist grinned. \"Excellent. It peel-eases me to hear that.\" He nodded to the guard. \"Winston, will you please perform the procedure to bring our new friend here to Phase One?\"\n\nWinston silently stomped toward me, ratcheting his metal claw open and closed.\n\n\"Stand still buttercup,\" he said in his deep baritone. \"This is gonna hurt a bunch.\"\n\n*****\nThis prompt was written with the help of chat at the [ScottWritesStuff](https://www.reddit.com/r/ScottWritesStuff/) Twitch stream." ]	2
	[WP] You are invited to a new movie premiere and discover that it's a documentary about you, filmed in secret.	[ "I’m not a movie buff or anything like that. I don’t really keep up on the stars either. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy a good film. I eat those artsy, weird movies up like they’re turkey on Thanksgiving. What I’m getting at here is, awhile back, James gave me an invite to this premiere, an indie movie that was supposed to be critically acclaimed or something like that. It was free and was being screened at this nice theatre downtown, so there wasn’t really any reason not to go. I decided to go with him, since he seemed pretty excited about it.\n\nSo I get to this theater with James and we’re in this lobby area and I see Morgan there with her boyfriend, Andrew or Anderson, something with an A. I digress, but she was going to film school when we broke up, so I guess it was not that big of surprise to see her and Andvornd at an event like this. She always had big aspirations, she wanted to make something that “pushed the envelope,” in her words. The problem was she was always jumping from one thing to the next and never really fleshed out any of her ideas. She wanted me to be in one, I signed all the disclosure forms and whatnot, but until later that night I had thought nothing ever became of that, and it was just another scrapped idea.\n\nI’m getting a little bit ahead of myself, but when I saw her there, shaking hands and mingling with all these hipster-y blogger types and old, tight ass film critic types alike, I just got a rush of emotions. I didn’t really know how to feel, honestly. It’s pretty hard to explain. I hadn’t even seen her for, what? Five, six months at that point? I mean, she was really in her element; she was happy there. Seeing her, like she had found her place in the world, while I, not to sound too melodramatic here, felt like I was still lost. I was glad, you know, really glad, but at the moment I was just reminded that I felt like I wasted so much of her time. I mean, I just wanted to watch this free movie, not open any old wounds.\n\nI think James caught wind of my apprehension and kind of just pointed out the radiant, well dressed elephant in the lobby. He was like, “Yep. That’s Morgan over there.” I don’t remember what my response was, but I do remember spotting the bar and snack table, particularly the bar, though. Naturally, Morgan caught sight of me right before I could even order a single drink.\n\nSo she was like, “Emma!”\n\nAnd I freeze in my spot and just kind of turn around and throw this smile on, I mean it had to have looked so fake, and there’s no way my tone was much more convincing either, but I was just like, “What are you doing here?”\n\nAnd she just laughed and looked at Anders, of course I’m still not in on the joke yet, but— Andre! That’s his name!— Ok, right, so she starts talking to me and James comes over and they say hi and the stereotypical awkward chit chat starts.\n\n“So, uh, how’ve you been?”\n\n“Really good, yeah, what about you?”\n\n“Yeah, I’ve been... I’ve been great.”\n\n“That’s good... so are you excited to see the documentary?”\n\nYou know that sort of thing. But I didn’t even know the movie we were about to see was a documentary. I knew literally nothing about this movie, so if she was about to try to start a conversation about it, well, I was going to grab a drink, because it probably would have ended up as one of those one sided things where she would go on and on about this movie and all the technical stuff that was supposed to make it so good. \n\nLuckily, she just left it at “Well, I think you’re really going to like it. Later, good to see you guys again.” And walked off.\n\nWell James and I walked in the theatre and took our seats and started shooting the shit until the rest of the rabble filled in. So I could go on about how I expected someone to say something since this was supposed to be a big premiere or whatever, but no one said anything and the lights dimmed, and just like that, the movie was starting.\n\nA Year or So was the title. It faded in silently, written in a cursive and in white, standing out against the black screen. And that was about the only peaceful moment for me.\n\nAs the title faded away, the footage faded in, and I immediately recognized the room. It was Morgan’s kitchen. And then I walked into the frame. And I here Morgan’s voice, and at first I’m angry, like why was I not informed about this? But I just let it keep going, because for one thing, I didn’t want to make a scene, and for another, I figured maybe it was a documentary about her or something, filmed from her perspective. \n\nBut soon I realized I was the focus of this documentary. I was just sitting there, watching myself, watching these scenes from my life from not-so-long ago. There were moments I had forgotten about, both good and bad.\n\nI was laying down on this grassy hill under the shade of the old oaks of this park. Morgan was there, and so were James and Thomas. We were listening to Do You Realize?? We were happy.\n\nThomas was leaving for Oregon. We were at the airport. Morgan and I cried a little bit. Thomas and James were laughing about this.\n\nWe were skipping rocks on the creek. I was combing through all the stones under our feet, looking for the perfect ones. The sun hit the water just right. It was picturesque.\n\nMorgan and I were having our first fight. I can’t believe I said what I did.\n\nIt was the night we broke up. \n\n“Do you love me?” \n\n“I did.”\n\n“How long... how long have you felt this way?”\n\n“Two months. I think.”\n\nNeither of us cried.\n\nThe last scene. I’m alone, laying in my hammock. The sun shines through the leaves of trees. I’m listening to the synths of I’m Growing Old. The hammock swings back and forth, gently rocking, the fabric creaking. \n\nI guess I really should have been more outraged, if not have felt violated. But as the film ended, I stood and clapped like everyone else. I guess I was caught up in the emotions of reliving parts of the prior year of my life, or something. I mean, a lot of it was portrayed really well, if I’m being completely honest. I wasn’t really the protagonist or antagonist, just as the subject. And I guess that made it more okay to me?\n\nSo James and I sneak out as everyone is still clapping and crying and whatever else. I remember we walked into the cool air, god, I love that time of year. We just kind of sit there, letting the reality sink that we both just watched a movie about my life. \n\nFinally I looked at him and asked him, “Did you know about this?”\n\nHe says, “Yeah, I knew. Morgan had to ask to me if I could be in the movie.”\n\nThis made me really angry for one reason, like everyone knew about this damn movie about me, but me. So I just got up and left. I haven’t really talked to James, and certainly not Morgan. I haven’t seen the movie again. I guess the success of it is good? I’m getting some of the revenue from it, so that’s nice. But anyway, you wanted to know my thoughts on the film, so I hope that’s enough." ]	1
	[WP] "Is this your lawyer? Well we don't plan on doing anything remotely legal here so you can go."	[ "Kennedy 'King Ken' Burns shot three of his Glock forty-five millimeter round to the unsuspecting priest of the Church of the Holy Sacrament. He moved himself away from the dead body, racing against the thick red blood flowing from it. The priest had refused to listen to the pitch that he had practiced hundreds of times before.\n\n“Did you just shoot him?” Jim asked in horror. Unlike the King, the newly hired lawyer stood still in his place. Now his pair of loafer are ruined by the blood of the dead priest. Ken made a mental note to himself to ask his secretary to buy Jim a new pair of shoes. He put his gun away back to its holster.\n\n“He said it himself, didn’t he?” King Ken said as he pulled out his leather glove, “He didn’t plan to have anything legal here.” He proceeded to put his glove into the pocket of his jacket, where he swapped it with a fresh box of Carlton and matches. He put it in his mouth and lit the cigarette like it is his second nature. \n\n“You know,” he puffed, looking at the ten or so underling of the dead priest, “This illegal thing of yours. It’s a thing of a past.” He threw the dying match at the pool of blood. It hissed, flickered and died.\n\n“I would prefer to argue my legal immunity here,” the lawyer said out loud. Small waves of blood are forming from the base of his feet.\n\n“Think of it like a confessional, Jim” Ken said. He waved his hand up the air, “A church,” and to the body, “and a priest,” all the while looking through his audience like he is giving a sermon. “In this place nothing is recorded. They will say nothing, hear nothing, and see nothing.”\n\n“You just shot our boss!” One of the burlier men of the priest said. At this Ken couldn’t help himself but to snapped back at him. He had expected stiffer reaction from him, the one that looked strongest of them all, but his eyes were as droopy as the fishes in the fishmonger. “Off course, Sherlock.” Ken snapped to the men and women in front of him.\n\nTheir boss, Jude Krass, also known as ‘Father Jude’ in the drug smuggling circle, was the third-most powerful drug kingpin in the city. He ran a tightly-knitted operation involving the city’s morgue, crematorium and cemetery, making it his own playground of all kinds of drugs. It was only due to his high operational expenses that he placed third. He could not compete in prices with the top-dog of the city. So instead he ran a smaller operation, passing his merchandise through channels like the confessional. He would also be known as the Saviour too afterward, and he would give his ‘blessings’ in this church - every day - to those in need. He is dead now, and no chance of him going back - even after three days.\n\nAll of them counted, there stood nine men and three women– including the midget that stood in front of them all. Though ununiformed, their dress code imitates those who would usually work in offices, ties and all. Unlike other drug operation in the city, these minions run the account and the logistical part of the operation, instead of being in the sales department; that is reserved to the Father. Their loyalties laid in the shares they had on their enterprise. Now they stood there like headless chicken. King Ken could only guess that business was indeed as bad as they look. Shrinking margin had squeezed people out of the business, and no one wanted to head the sinking ship.\n\nThis time, the midget spoke instead of the burly man. “So what do you want us to do?” pulling his gun from its holster, then pointing it at the head of the man who murdered his boss. “Kill you?”\n\nNow that’s more like it, Ken thought. They do have a spine.\n\n“See,” Ken looked at Jim, “Look at them, they think they could get away with all of this.” Ken could see Jim still shaking in the middle of all the blood, but forced him to play along. Jim could only nod to his client. King Ken put his hand up, part of his gambit, and ordered Jim to do the same. He played his practiced persona and started his pitch all over again. This time to the other partners.\n\n“Come on, surely you have seen the numbers? Cocaine? too addictive, Meth? too conspicuous, LSD? no one could tell the difference!” Ken plead to the audience-cum-future partners in front of him, “and now what? They are going to legalize weed? You know what all those rich-pious kids came here only for that. Now they can instead fake some illnesses to get their trip to the fifth-dimension.” The audience, though reluctant, nods their heads in agreement. Only two remained unconvinced; the midget with the gun, and a woman with a stiletto in the back. Those two seemed to be the one running the affairs. Their eyes are still distracted by the body, and though it seems like a tough sell, it is still not beyond redemption.\n\n“You! The young gentlemen with the firearm pointed at me. Yes, you! What’s your name?” Rule number one, Ken thought, familiarize yourself with potential partners. “Dennis...\" he replied, and though he hasn’t finished his sentence, Ken moved to ask the name of the women in the back. “Clarence”, she answered. Dennis paid a sharp glance at Clarence, who could only reply with a shrug.\n\n“What was your position in the enterprise, Dennis?”, Ken asked, playing it cool even with the gun between the two of them. “I ran the truck operational between the morgue and the graveyard” Dennis said, still unfazed. “What about you, Clarence? I’m guessing accountant. I could feel that vibe from you” Ken said. “Yes,” Clarence said proudly, “I ran the money through various channel in the Caribbean and the Micronesia.” Now that, Ken thought, I like.\n\n“I have known a few Dennis and Clarence in my lifetime. There are bad ones, sure, but mostly they are peachy and kind people like the two of you. You guys are smart. Running the operation like this” Ken said flawlessly. He then proceeded to the sentimental part, the second move. “I know none of you would have liked to run a drug ring if you could do something else.” At this everyone seems to look away uneased. It is easier to convince white-collar like them.\n\n“You should have known the way the winds are blowing. I’m not planning to dismantle what you guys have done. I’m planning to renovate it. But let me tell all of you, kids,” Ken prepared himself for his punchline, “If not for me, this”, pointing at the Father Jude body, “drug economy”, he continued, “You will never get away from. All of it.” \n\n“Mine,” Ken finished his speech, “Is not one of crime. I have come to save you.”\n\nThis time Dennis lowered his gun. Clarence seems in assent. A unanimous vote it would seem. “Let me give you guys a proposal”, he add, “Swear your loyalty to me, and we will forget all this mess. In fact, I will make you guys - partners!”" ]	1
	[WP] In a town of immortals, you are the judge. Recently, you've witnessed something so heinous you're deliberating on the first life sentence the town has ever seen.	[ "Anubis ruffled his papers as he looked down at the immortal. He licked his sharp white jackal teeth as he peered over his eyeblasses. \"Alright, Mr. Benvoyagen. I've weighed your heart against the Feather of Truth and it has decided that you are guilty. Extremely guilty.\"\n\nBenvoyagen stood up, his wrists shackled by the only kind of metal that an immortal couldn't break. \"Again, tell me what I did wrong?\" He yelled. One of the guards took a wrap of immortal shiny duct tape and put it over Benvoyagen's mouth to silence him.\n\nAnubis put the papers down. \"What you did is considered by many immortals and many of our descendants, the Earth people to be so horrendous. Some Earthlings do do it but an immortal has no excuse. You've had eternity to learn the proper way. You've had eternity to apply it. But yet, you continue to stick to this despicable immoral way of life. It disgusts me.\"\n\nThe jackal god picked up his papers again and sighed a small sigh of exhaustion. He was one of the oldest immortals and he was ashamed to have to bring back this ancient punishment. \"Benvoyagen. We are assigning you to a life sentence.\"\n\nThere was an audible gasp around the courtroom.\n\n\"Many of you were not present but this was common in my days. Hell, I even did it myself until the people that imprisoned me forgot about the punishment. But we will never forget about this punishment. For as long as eternity, you will server as a god on Earth. Only, you will not serve as a god to a culture. That's not permanent. You will server as a god to the planet itself. You will be bounded to its essence. Even after it's smashed apart by the sun, if that hasn't happened at this point, it's hard to tell in eternity, you will remain a god to its crumbles. You will feel the enormous pain as your life essence is tossed around yourself, like a plaything in the yard of space.\"\n\n\"With that, I bid you a forever farewell. May someone have mercy on your being.\" Anubis hit the hammer and the guards pulled Benvoyagen out, wrestling against the chains and moaning through the duct tape.\n\nHours later, Anubis arrived back home, exhausted from the damn paperwork. He'd have to reform the system to be digital. It was about time too.\n\nHis wife set the tradition dinner in front of him, the dinner of his time. She sat across from him. \"So.. Benvoyagen is exiled, I hear. What did he do again?\"\n\nAnubis looked down at the plate with disgust. \"That bastard poured milk before the cereal. Not cereal before the milk, the right way around.\"\n\nThe she-jackal made a sour face. \"I'm glad he's not around us anymore. He sounds like a bad influence.\" They ate their dinner in silence.", "'There is no such thing as _death_' is taken quite literally in a small town at the outskirts of the country. People call it 'The land of the immortals'. \n\nWith the population of about 100, it's a peaceful town, because having an eternity to accomplish whatever you want to do is all one needs.\n\nAlas, human nature does not care about immortality to commit crimes, is what a man proved on that day. Jack, a quiet, strong willed guy who had a kind heart, always helped the townspeople in need without asking anything in return.\n\nHe was a man among the mens. That's what everyone thought.\n\nUntil he killed himself. One would think how did he accomplished that task and why. The 'why' is the tough part.\n\nI am tasked with the duty to find out the 'why' and judge the decision of an immortal who wished to die. One simple answer to the 'why' is that Jack took the easy way out. But Jack was not the kind of person to do that.\n\nHundreds of years of suffering is like a gust of wind flowing past the surface of a river in the eyes of an immortal. Jack was not so weak as to succumb to that.\n\nHere, I sit on my chair, thinking what punishment should be given for such a crime. The crime of throwing away the love of gaia, who wished Jack to stay with her till eternity.\n\nThere's only one judgement I can pass. A life sentence.\n\nMy life sentence.\n\nCarried on till eternity.\n\nUntil I find out the 'why'." ]	2
	[WP] Against Literal Man, every villain knows, it's better to rush him and be defeated than to let him taunt you. For Literal Man will always make certain that his trash talk will become literal.	[ "See, that's the mistake everyone else made. They all had some gimic like a cartoon bad guy. Ice powers, animal army, killer robots, magic tricks and more showy crap.\n\nAnd in any other city it would work.\n\nExcept here. Here we had Literal Man. Anything he said became real. Literally. Hence the name. \n\nMost people would think that's great except that his power means everyone believes him. He is a sickness, a plague, a curse.\n\nNo one can upset him or touch him because of the fear of what he can and will do. Only a few of us are brave enough to try to free the world from his tyranny but no success.\n\nLike ice power lady? He told her to freeze. Insta death. No one could survive temps that low hitting that fast.\n\nAnimal guy? Told to be one with his pack.... I'll leave that to your imagination but it was gruesome and required lots of bleach after.\n\nSo now it is up to me. And I've got a plan.\n\nLiteral Man swaggers down the street, confident, untouchable. Everywhere he goes women duck into stores, alleyways, dumpsters. Anywhere to avoid being spotted and being his new love interest.\n\nBut not me. Not today.\n\nI stand in the middle of the street, two comically oversized red boxing gloves on my hands, glaring at him, waiting.\n\nHe stops 20 feet from me and grins.\n\n\"And who are you supposed to be?\"\n\n\"I'm the last thing you'll see before you die.\"\n\nHe laughs now. He sees how large my gloves are, they finger parts are as large as pillows.He estimates that 5, maybe 10% of the weight is my hand, the rest is padding. Even if I hit him as hard as I could I wouldn't hurt him.\n\n\"Really? I dare you! Give me your best shot!\" He shouts loudly to the street, to the curious onlookers.\n\nHe hopes to thrash me, defeat me, humiliate me and publicly as he has done to my colleagues.\n\nI smile. \"Ok.\"\n\nHe is still smiling that arrogant smirk as my bullet enters his chest, half a second before the bullet fired by my accomplice splatters his brains on the pavement.\n\nThe crowd is shocked at first then slowly there are murmurs, shouts, maybe even applause. I don't care because I can't really hear them.\n\nInstead I hear all the things that Literal Man said to my colleagues before they departed. The taunts, the insults, the letting them have \"one shot\" and always loud enough to be heard from 4 stories up.\n\nHow many had I watched be slain? How many people had he destroyed with his words? Innocent women and girls? Families who tried to defend themselves? Bank tellers who didn't want to hand over the money? \n\nI knew the only way was to get him fast and with a gun but not one he could see. He always fought us head on, one on one. I just evened the odds.\n\nI remove my gloves and spit my venomous words at him \"Talk your way out of that, asshole.\"\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The World turns into a game and everyone pays out where they start with their money. You start at the bottom as a level one skeleton in the forest of beginnings...where players slaughter skeletons for experience. You're now known as Skeletor The Protector.	[ "The bodies of humans lay all around me.\n\n\"Filthy Fleshies.\" I growled, eyes glowing red with fury, jet black cloak blowing in the wind majestically. The world had turned into a game 7 years ago now, your monetary statues in real life detriment your fate in this world. The kings were businessmen, knights bankers, peasants factory workers and skeletons like me used to be hobos. I don't think about my old life, for I had a new purpose, to protect my fellow monsters from the greedy. The people I had just protected were travelers from one of the outer forests, a family I believe. \n\"Your new?\" I asked, voice deep and bellowing. \n\"Y-yes, we're from the west.\" The elder skeleton explained, cracks marking his forehead.\n\n\"Down the forest path you'll find a tree of bone, turn right at that and keep going forward, you'll find skeleton village.\" I explained, when this madness first happened I had gathered all of us skeletons up and established a village in the undergrowth of the deep forest. This almost boosted me to level 2, giving me a fighting chance against the first human I had met.\n\n7 years ago...\n\nAll I had was a stick and my wits. \n\"Look we're both people here!\" I begged, the human warrior wore basic metal armor and had a simple iron sword, but my new eyes (Or lack thereof) allowed me to see that many of my brethren had been slayed but that thing. \n\"HA! Luthrum told me that you skeletons were tricksters! Now accept your fate like the man you claim to be.\" The warrior boasted proudly as he charged at me with his sword. I froze, my body refused to move, right before the sword made contact I heard a ding. \nLevel up, please select your bonuses.\n\nI never saw a menu, all I know was that I had felt it in my heart. Time begun again and I dodged to the side, I had put all my new points into evasiveness.\n\n\"Hoho! Thats a first!\" The warrior laughed, this must have been some kind of game to him. The warrior was about to monologue something, I shoved the branch into his mouth and stole his sword.\n\n\"Hmmpf Aufmmph!\" The warrior screamed, his face turning red with lack of air and anger. I stabbed him directly in the eye, the blow killing him.\n\n\"Fleshie,\" Was all I could manage, I hadn't killed a person, it didn't deserve to be called that. \n\nLevel up, please select your bonuses.\n\nI felt the power of all my fellow skeletons be absorbed into my very soul, their anger fueling me. My eyes began to glow red as I felt the first lick of true power. Soon I had stuck the warriors head to a tree with the sword and used his blood to write this message.\n\n\"To all those who try and kill my people, prepare for an unstoppable wrath. Your sins shall be placed back onto you ten times over. Prepare for Skeletor The Protector\" ", "I open my eyes again to this world. A world off pain, dread, suffering. Oh the things that have happened in these long 5 years. I stood atop a hill, far above the 83rd level's town: Aikenon. Behind me I heard the roar of a crowd. I could picture the seen in my mind. When I turned around, I saw that there was at least 100 of them - humans, what I used to be. This game of life was different. Humans weren't made into the players, but rather the mobs that they fought. I still didn't feel right, killing them, it had to be done. \n\nWhen they saw my face, they began to tremble, knowing who I was. I began: \"I am Skeletor the Protector! Those who wish to pass to the gates of Aikenon must go through me!\" They seemed to have mustered back up their courage, blades and guns in hand. One stepped out from the crowd, holding a glowing katana. \"FIGHT!\" he screamed. They began their futile charge toward me. From my back, I pulled out my sword - something I made myself - known as The Vaporior. Once one of them was near me, I swung once, it was all I had to do. He tried to block my blade, but it cut through his and the moment it touched his skin, he turned into a vapor - my sword's special move. Then I took a step forward and swung in one large wide arc. From my sword, a arc of light projected. Once the light hit the players, they become a mist. \n\nBut as I took my swing, I felt something pierce, my skin, followed by a burning sensation. I looked down at my stomach and I saw a sword sticking through it. At first I winced, that chuckled. I grabbed the blade through my heavily gloved hand and yanked it through. A man stumbled at my feet. \"I'm a skeleton, I don't have organs. Hehe, you should've gone for the head.\" Like a horse, I kicked him off the cliff side. \n\nMy left arm buzzed and I looked at my palm. \\~Level Up: 248\\~ \n\n&#x200B;", "When the world changed, some of us could only get in as the weak fodder you’ll find at the start of any RPG. And as with any RPG, there’s always the newbies getting their early levels or that one type of player who grinds the first mob they find till they can walk through the rest of the game without a care in the world.\n\nOf course, this meant someone was on the other end of being beaten to death, only reappear a few feet away from their assailant. Repeat. Again. And again. And again\n\nIt has been sometime since the new format of this world took place. I arose from my recent slumber to the shrill cries of another one of my many kin falling by the hand of another budding adventuring type. Again? Have these people nothing better to do?. I though at I grabbed my blade by the hilt and yanked it from the ground. \n\nConveniently, the newest scoundrel to grace the Hallowed Forrest was just outside my residence, a rather foreboding cave. It wasn’t much, but it was far more comfortable inside than it looked. Suppose anything would be more pleasant on the inside if the exterior was covered in bloody warnings. My target was a young lad, probably only just got his first blade and was on a date from a friend of his. He seemed occupied, likely gathering the loot off one of the skeletal remains he just dismembered again, so the approach was easy. With nothing more than a stroll, I wander to his side. \n\n“Now lad, we need to have a talk about what you’ve just done. How many did you kill?”\n\n“Heh, got 5 of em. Easy pickings!” He almost snorted. Oh good, an arrogant one. These were always fun to deal with\n\n“Your ma tell you about this place? There are rules here you know. You kill 4 Skeletons and the big mean boss will come find you. And do you remember what happens when you kill 5 or more?”\n\n\n“Pff, the so called “protector” gets mad and will hunt you down. It’s only a myth, stupid hag always bangs on about it” oooh, this was going to be oh so enjoyable\n\n“Well, let’s get introductions out of the way. I am Skeletor, The Protector. And I’ve got work to do. I’ll give you 5 seconds” I flipped my Cleaver of my back to lodge it into the ground and took a knee beside it\n\nThe kid turned to face me for the first time. 1. His smug look quickly faded as he realised the gravity of the situation, and the mistake he made. 2. He flubbed some nonsense out in a fluster panic. 3. Dropping his sword, he froze 4. In a fruitless effort, he started fleeing to the exit of the forest. 5 \n\n“The hallowed forest stirs, your life is your forfeit!” I grabbed my blade and thrusted myself forwards into a dash. Easy pickings, I suppose\n\n\n_____\n\nStill new to all this fancy writing malarkey, let me know how rubbish my proof reading is on mobile with some feedback, I’ll try not to cry. Too much\n\n\n\n", "I was known as Skeletor The Protector, many feared me and they feared me with good reason. When the world turned, I had been at the lowest point in my life, my wife had left me and I was homeless with little to no food or water. I had been at the top of my game not two weeks before, I had set up multiple arenas around my area. I had been the number one blade fighter in America. It all changed when I was stabbed in the lung by a rising favorite in the ranks. I had multiple surgeries but I was never the same. Many people started using my name as an example of what not to do. \"Skeletor was a reckless fighter, he got what was coming.\" It all spiraled down from there. It had happened quick, one minute I was in front of the grocery store, the next I was in a forest full of skeletons. I had been so startled, I fell at the feet of a human. He stared down at me with a grin on his face. \"Sucks to be you, Skeleton.\" With that the human plunged his sword down towards me. In a moment of clarity I rolled to the right and jumped to my feet. The human stared at me with a mix of shock and worry. \"I'm no ordinary skeleton,\" I said \"I am Skeletor.\" The human laughed and said \"You mean like that shitty blade fighter back home? You gotta be kidding m-.\" A dagger had found its way in between his ribs and pierced his heart. His laugh had turned to a wet gurgle as blood spilled from his mouth. He disappeared with a pop and in his place lay a mix of items, which I came to the conclusion of being his inventory. \n\n Since that day I have been building up my army. The skeletons had been broken down by the constant onslaught of the humans. When they heard of a skeleton killing a human, many flocked to me begging for me to teach them how to fight back. I trained them hard, and well. After being treated so roughly by the humans, the skeletons could take a beating. At the end of my training not only could they take the hits, but they could dish them out as well. I was known as Skeletor the Protector. Many humans were killed as my army slowly took over the forest. Many humans fought my army, and many died. \n\n As I became more powerful, my name became great again. I was a force to be reckoned with. It had been years since the last human invasion. It seems however, a coalition has been formed between the warring human kingdoms. I fear this may be the day I die, hence why I write this letter. Many of the humans who come to fight me are veterans of this world, with forces unequaled around the globe. As I write this I hear the pounding on my gates, I hear the sounds of bones breaking and inhuman screams. I make my last stand today, Skeletor will be remembered.\n\n&#x200B;" ]	4
	[WP] A random void appears in midair in your living room. Just black nothingness. You leave your home and see more voids begin to appear. No one else can see them.	[ "It was the 9th of July when the first Void Tear appeared. That's the name I gave it since I've never seen something like that before. It looked like a rip in time and space - that space itself was seeping out of, constantly fluctuating in an array of sparkling dark colors.\n\nFirst, it only appeared in the living room. Then, I came across another one in the kitchen. And since then - they've started popping out everywhere. In the staircase, in the middle of the road, above lamp posts, on the sides of buildings, at my office space - everywhere.\n\nI was never there at the time of their creation, but they did not seem to grow in size after the initial emergance.\n\nThe more confusing part for me, is that I seem to be the only one to see them. When they first appeared, I hoped that they weren't, but still didn't cross the option that that they were simply a fiction of my own imagination, and let my girlfriend be the one to first ask about them, but she didn't say a word. What's more - I saw her walk right through one of them, but nothing happend.\n\nWhen they first appeared, I was afraid to walk close to those light sucking fissures, constantly looking for ways to walk around and avoid them, but when I saw my girlfriend walk right through them I assumed it was safe. I was wrong.\n\nI walked up slowly towards the Void Tear - first, reaching a hand out. In almost an instant I felt numbness spreading throughout my body, from my fingertips through the length of my arm, and to my shoulder - it felt a lot like that feeling you get when holding ice for too long in your hand, or when building a snowman.\n\nI pulled my hand away, immediately, but the feeling persisted. It was almost painful. Almost.\n\nSince then, I started noticing that other people payed no attention to the Void Tears at all. I walked around the office, and outside - and no one, not even one soul seemed to bother with the phenomenon, not a single intended glimpse in their direction.\n\nI thought I was going insane, so I kept hiding it.\n\nAs time passed, the Void Tears kept emerging more frequently with each day. They were so wide spread that I found it hard to go through my daily routine. I had to look for different alternate routes everywhere I went. I started zigzagging, jumping over seemingly nothing, going around large invisible (to the naked eye) obstacels.\n\nPeople started looking at me differently. At first, I didn't care about the glimpses people gave me on the street, but then people on work started noticing, and what's more important - my girlfriend started getting suspicious of me and confronted me. I didn't know what to tell her - so I told her the truth.\n\nWe decided it would be best for me to go through some form of therapy. I went to a psychiatrist and a psychologist - who both assured me nothing was really there, and that everything - even the numbness I felt that day were a fiction of my imagination.\n\n\"Our brains can make us feel pain, even if the stimuli isn't actually present. That's the power it possesses.\" The psychiatrist told me, when prescribing me with a bunch of medication.\n\nThe medication took its toll on my life, I became self-consumed, I had to quit my job, and I often had fights with my SO, and most days I didn't even leave the house, but the fissures continued popping up, no matter how many and what kind of pills I swallowed.\n\nAlmost our whole 1-room apartment was filled with those fissures, so we had to rearrange the whole apartment. We bought a small couch for me to sleep on, in the middle of the living room (where no Void Tears were present) and a small fridge that we somehow managed to swing off of the ceiling (with a lot of help). It became impossible for me to go from place to place even in my own home, without stumbling upon a tear and feeling once again that feeling of numbness running through my body.\n\nSo Diana had to do most things at home, while maintaining her job and also looking after me. She never left me and always was by my side, so I proposed to her - realizing that I'd never have gotten anyone better than her. And we were planning to get married soon, before I would get swallowed whole.\n\nTrips to the psychiatrist became unbearable and required me to muster all my strength to withstand the cold from the fissures. My story gathered traction and people from around the country started showing up and trying new methods to treat me. I've gone through shock therapy, accupuncture, a minor brain surgery, different diets and chugged countless antibiotics.\n\nThen there came a time when there was no place for me to move freely - I always felt cold and could barely feel any of my limbs. Wearing warm clothes did nothing to fix that. Everywhere I looked I saw the darkness of the cosmos staring back. I hated my own existence, and I knew I was soon to be gone.\n\nDiana and I were planning to get married on the 6th of February, we even arranged everyone we knew and loved to gather at our small apartment.\n\nBut the universe never works as we expect it to.\n\nIn the middle of the night betweeb the 5th and 6th of February, I opened my eyes, unable to sleep from the severe chill in my body. I couldn't see more than the length of my stretched arm, in front of me. I've been starring at the beautiful infinity inside the Void Tear in front of me, for what felt like hours, and then for the first time ever I've seen how Void Tears are made. There was a momentary spark right in front of me - and another moment later... I was finally gone.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nEdits: some grammar (and a sentence I didn't intend to leave)\n\n\n\nI would appreciate any feedback, on whether there were things you liked or didn't like, and hear any tips you have on writing in general.", "Four weeks ago I began seeing something you wouldn't believe. It was my 16th birthday and although most other kids would be opening presents or getting ready for their party, I plugged in to my Vive world rig.\n\nMy only aquaintence was 'Vector' or 'Vec' my best friend and crime fighting partner in Vive world. Both of us had trouble making friends in the real world, but in VR we could be ourselves, we could be superheroes, save damsels in distress and be, well, popular. I went by 'Shayde' or 'Shay' but my real name is Lawrence Boon-Shadwell... a real lady-killer.\n\nWe were playing a particularly active game of 'War Ranger' when my headset froze out. The familiar blue filter covered the screen.\n\"Please hydrate. Please hydrate. Your game has been paused for you to take a 15 minute break. This is part of Vive World's healthy choice initiative.\"\n\"Dude! You still haven't got your hydration sleeve!??\" Came Vec's voice in the lobby.\n\"You know I can't afford that shit. Hey I'll be back in 5, stay in the lobby.\"\n\"Of course, yes sir\" Vec said sarcastically.\n\nI ran up from the basement, and jumped into the kitchen.\n\"Woah, slow down birthday boy. What's the big rush?\" \nMy mum stood at the kitchen counter, prepping vegetables. She'd started at a small fresh food delivery service for people that worked in VR all day. My older brother Josh was her number 1 delivery driver and things were going well. Plus we had foot to eat, all the time, which was a big thing ever since my dad had died.\n\n\"Me and Vec are working on a project, and I just need a drink so I can get back to it Mum.\"\n\"Well, hold on for two seconds.\"\nDING DONG \n\"Oh, can you get that please honey. It should be Josh for the breakfast pick up.\"\n\"Urhhh!\"\n\nI ran to the front door, and yanked it open. An Amazon delivery drone floated in front of me.\n\n\"Please confirm house name\" came the robotic voice.\n\"Boon-Shadwell\" I replied\"\n\"Confirmed, thank you\".\n\nThe front cargo compartment opened and inside was a rectangular parcel. I pulled it out and closed the door.\nIt was addressed to me. I tore the packaging off in two seconds flat and inside shone the metallic Vive logo. '2ltr Hydration Sleeve Mk.3 with HCI feedback'.\n\n\"YESSSS!!!\"\n\"That's for all your 'project' work\" Mum replied.\n\nI hugged her, pinning her arms to her sides. She dropped her knife on the chopping board.\n\n\"You know you still have to come out the basement from time to time right?\"\n\"I love you mum\".\n\nI filled up my hydration sleeve and slipped it around my shoulders. When I turned back towards the basement door I could see a strange black blur in my peripheral vision. I turned to the lounge. Floating above the sofa was a small black circle. Blurry and impossible to focus on. I rubbed my eyes, and stared at the space again. Still there. I'd heard that being in VR for too long, could effect your vision, but this felt different. Why was the blur moving?\n\nFor the following weeks the blur continued to grow. \n\nI mentioned it to my mum, who couldn't see it, and booked me an eye test. To Vec who told me it was a byproduct of chronic masturbation, and to my brother Josh who warned me that if I was taking drugs, to ask him first before ordering off the Dark rails.\n\nSlowly the blurs started to appear in other places. First there was one on the trainline on the way to school, then a large one outside the bakery in the mall and then 3 appeared on the road heading out towards Holland's Hill.\n\nYesterday was the first time I saw a blur dissapear. \n\nJosh had agreed to drive me to the mall so I could look for a job. 1 month as an 'adult' and now it was time to help mum out, and bring some money home.\n\nWhilst we were walking across the second mezzanine level we heard a scream. I ran to peer over the balcony and below a woman lay on the tiled floor clutching her chest, convulsing. Her daughter pleaded for help, and a security guard ran from the food court. They were outside the bakery, and above the shaking woman circled a huge black blur. \n\nAll of sudden she stopped shaking. I watched horrified as the blur slowly faded away and the daughter wept into her mother's blouse.\n\nI turned to Josh.\n\"We have to get home!\"\n\"What?!\"\n\"NOW!!!\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] It had been fifteen years since contact had been lost.	[ "“Today, on the seventh of June, there was a transmission revived from the celestial body Luna and one received from the body of Charon far into the galaxy.”\n\nThe Woman spoke, her arms moving slightly rigid compared to humans as she diced tomatoes for guacamole.\n\n“Well what did they say?” I pushed\n\n“The one from Luna was a normal message about supplies and medicine needing to be refilled. From Charon though... something strange.”\n\n“Why is that?”\n\n“Well it was first sent to the Plutian relay center but that center hasn’t been online for a decade and a half.”\n\n“What do you think about that Penny?”\n\n“I think the station is running itself now.”", "\"Fifteen years today, in fact.\" Marcus thought as he watched the pale blue dot though the greenery's glass dome. It was the single green spot on the red planet he now called home.\n\n\"They've pulled our funding, Marcus.\"\n\nHe took a sip of his whiskey as he went over the last conversation with mission control.\n\n\"They don't see this mission as beneficial anymore.\"\n\n\"Beneficial!? We're still out here, John! Is it beneficial for us to DIE!?\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Marcus. You'll have to make it home on your ow-\"\n\n\"We used the last of our fuel on exploration because you promised we'd be resupplied by now! We can't make it back on our own! By the way, guess what, we found more red fucking rocks!\"\n\n\"There's nothing I can do. There's no more money. We're in the middle of a war, then there's the outbreak, and the west coast has-\"\n\n\"Did you get that new truck paid off, John?! What about your assistant Alice? Did her daughter finally get her master's? Is Clark back from his tropic vacation? It seems like everyone else there is getting the money they were promised!\"\n\nJohn didn't say anything. Marcus saw the guilt in his eyes. He was tired of yelling at him. He knew it wasn't John's fault. He actually felt bad for him. John had the horrible duty of telling a whole team of people, that they were being left for dead millions of miles from home. Worse, he has to watch them die and wonder, 'was there something I could have done?'. John was good like that.\n\n\"...just...just don't hail us again unless you have good news...\" Marcus said before cutting the feed. That was the last he heard from John.\n\nHe tore his gaze from the pale blue dot and looked at the long picnic table in the grass clearing he was standing in. The trees and shrubs around the clearing made it an ideal spot for a picnic, particularly an annual one.\n\n\"Look, dad! I've got the tea!\"\n\nMarcus looked across the clearing. Martin, his seven year old son, was awkwardly carrying a large pitcher of tea to the table from the doorway to the main pod.\n\n\"You got it, buddy?\"\n\n\"Yeah! I'm pretty strong.\" Martin replied.\n\nMarcus smiled. \"You sure are!\"\n\n\"Just like his daddy.\" Marcus looked back at the door. Susan was walking out with a casserole dish. When she got to the table she gave Marcus a quick peck on the lips. The three of them began setting the table as everyone else began filing out to the table.\n\nMarcus took his place at the head of the table once everyone was out. He looked over his team, which had become more like a village to him than anything. He saw little Brittany. She was just a little older than Martin and reminded him so much of her father, Drew. It seemed like yesterday they had just put him to rest. Drew wasn't the first, or the last that they had lost. Likewise, Brittany wasn't the first or last they had gained.\n\n\"Good evening everyone. As you know, we take this night every year to remember where we came from, as well as everything, and everyone, that we've lost. We recognize and appreciate everything we haven't lost, and more importantly, everyone that we've gained.\" Susan squeezed his hand as he gazed at her and Martin.\n\n\"Well, without further delay.\" Marcus looked up. \"Look again at that dot. That's there. That was home. That was us...\"\n\nThey all gazed at the pale blue dot as he continued. The older ones remembering their old home, while the younger ones wondered at what kind of place it must be.\n" ]	2
	[WP] A group of the popular kids got super powers, and that kinda inflated their egos to 11. You, one of the less popular kids, also got super powers, but keep it low key because you don't want to deal with that hot mess of drama	[ "Am I the hero or the villain; truth be I no longer know. I mean, they have to be popular for some reason. Yet I can’t help but feel like they don’t deserve any of it, and I should be the one up there. But maybe I shouldn’t be up there. Maybe I am the monster. I used to dismiss this by telling myself, if I’m a monster they are far far worse and I’m just doing what I need to survive. I used to see myself as a great cold, calculating manipulator; but I wasn’t. I was over-emotional and rash. Even if I made a plan, my emotion would derail me. So when ‘we’ had a chance to gain powers, I chose something more unique. While they all chose what’s stereotypical: superspeed – with the necessary friction nullifiers and such –, teleportation, invisibility, eternal youth, super strength, fully understanding any form of language including body language, code, and more abstract symbolism. But I chose something far better: To have infinite time to think with access to all the information I’ve ever observed. A power to remove the rashness and allow me access to the maximum amount of information - to allow me to act as a true “rational actor”.\n\nBut all it’s done is given me time to question. Am I in the wrong?", "Just look at them, sitting there, acting like nothing happened last night. There goes Robby North, star quarterback with his straight A's and straighter teeth, sticking out his foot to trip up Fern Gonzalez. The rest of them laugh. Same move, at least once a week. And now he keeps it up, as if we weren't all burdened with heroic purpose. We all heard the speech, how the Sentry of Saturn had chosen a group of high school kids to save the universe. How the balance was disrupted, and it was up to a bunch of teens to restore it. \n\nBut they can't be heroes, their hearts are twisted. Corrupted. They'll only see that amplified with the new powers. The six of them, they didn't see me. They don't know they weren't the only ones there. And while they each took a single power cell from the alien craft, I grabbed two. I created the imbalance, but I can fix it. I can stop them if I plan it out, but I need to be careful. Need to go unseen. Unheard. Unnoticed. That should be easy, as they've never noticed me before." ]	2
	[WP] One God created all of mankind, one man will kill all gods.	[ "They said that God created all of mankind, but one man will kill all gods. That's what he was here to do. He had found and had fought his way to the heavens only to find the place abandoned and in ruins. What if God was already dead?, the heavily armored man thought as he slowly approached the crumbling throne and withdrew his sword. He took a deep breath and screamed, “Show yourself coward! I will end you for all the atrocities you allowed to happen!”\n\n\n\n<GO AWAY!>, a voice boomed in the man's head, <I HAVE GIVEN UP ON MANKIND MANY MILLIENA AGO, NOW GO AWAY!>\n\n\n\n“No! I will not leave until you are dead at my feet!,” the man screamed.\n\n\n\n<SO BE IT!>, voice thundered in his head. The sizzle of lightning and the crack of thunder was heard throughout the throne room. The man almost dropped his sword as he shielded his eyes.\n\n\n\nThe man blinked through watering eyes at what appeared before him. He stepped back not believing what his eyes showed him. A giant tortoise sat in front of the throne, its head was as tall as three of the man standing before him. The tortoise slowly lowered his head towards the man.\n\n\n\n<YOU WANT ME DEAD, SO STRIKE LITTLE MORTAL!>, it roared in the man's mind as the neck lunged and mouth opened trying to bite to the man in half. \n\n\n\nThe man leaped and rolled to the side, the mouth barely missing him. “What are you?,” he cried as he held his shield up to block another blow.\n\n\n\n<YOUR GOD!>, the tortoise hissed, <MANKIND STOPPED LISTENING TO ME A LONG TIME AGO AND INVENTED NEW GODS, FAKE GODS TO WORSHIP.> The tortoise lunged again, <YOU ABANDONED ME SO I LEFT YOUR KIND TO THEIR FATES! DO NOT BLAME ME FOR HUMANITY'S DOINGS.>\n\n\n\nThe tortoise backed the man against one of the walls of the crumbling throne room. “Stop!,” the man yelled, the giant head stopped mid strike and red eyes glared down. The man slowly lowered his shield and sword and looked into the hate filled eyes of the God. \n\n\n\n“You abandoned us,” he slowly said to the giant reptilian head.\n\n\n\n<YOU ABANDONED ME FIRST>, the head slowly dipped to look the man in the eye. <LEAVE PLACE AND I WILL ALLOW YOU TO LIVE>, the head slowly raised looking up at the sky. <I HAVE NO FOLLOWERS LEFT, A GOD WITHOUT FOLLOWERS IS AS GOOD AS DEAD.>\n\n\nThe man sheathed his sword, “what do I tell people when they ask if I killed you?”\n\n\n<TELL THEM THE TRUTH, I WAS ALREADY DEAD WHEN YOU ARRIVED HERE.> The giant tortoise started fading from the warrior's sight. <NOW AND LEAVE ME BE!>\n\n\nThe warrior stood looking around at the crumbling throne and walls of the ruined palace and sighed. The God was right, the God was was already dead when he arrived here. The warrior slowly started to make his way back down to the mortal world, not noticing the tears streaming from his eyes.\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] There's a large-scale outbreak of a highly contagious disease, but all it does is turn your skin bright purple. Nothing else. You happen to be immune, for all the good it does you.	[ "Panic. \n\nChaos.\n\nPeace.\n\nThis is the rhythm humanity beats to. \n\n\nThe Great Transformation. That’s what it is called now. Twenty years have passed since the beginning of The Transformation, but I remember it like yesterday. The Great Transformation spread through the world, slowly at first- in small remote villages. Scientists were baffled, but the symptoms were contained. At first, it only affected the children in places where medicine was rare. Then it would spread to the adults. Medical professionals highly suggested no one visit these areas. The areas with the purple skin. \n\nIt was treated as a charity cause. It wasn’t you, or or family and friends- it was a far off, distant fairy tale. Many highly trained doctors and medical examiners’ curiosities would get the best of them, as if the purple skin epidemic drew them closer. Eventually, not knowing how it spread or how to contain it, those who dared venture, either trying to find a cure or even identify the disease, contracted the hue on themselves. \n\nIt didn’t take long. News outlets across the globe, shouting at people in their homes. Instructing usage of face masks in public. They told us to stay indoors. There was no cure. \n\nAs the disease spread, more people became infected. It was someone’s aunt’s friend who’s husband’s sister contracted it. Then it was another person’s grandfather. A son, a daughter. Your wife. \n\nRiots took to the streets. Demanding governments to put funding into medicine. To find out WHY this strange phenomenon was happening. Uproar from everyone who could not understand what was happening to the bodies they have always known. Was it a form of cancer? Alien experimentation was a common theory. \n\nBut just as there was no cure, there were no adverse effects either. Studies began to show, the purple skin had made no change in a person’s characteristics, their diet, even lifespan was the same. Other than the tone that consumed the pigments of human flesh, everything else remained the same. \n\nAfter a while, there was confirmed safety- safety in time. The streets quieted, and people trickled back into their homes, work and life. \n\nThe only person who remained unaffected, was me. At least visibly. I was am an anomaly. Everyone I have ever, and know today are various shades of purple. The world is now covered from eggplant to lavender, and yet my skin remained peach. \n\nWhen The Transformation began, I was a symbol of safety. Could I say the same now? No, definitely not. I could barely walk to the end of my driveway this morning to get the morning paper. Staring eyes, not-so-hushed whispers of wonder and fear. Nowadays, it is typical for me to try to find an ordering service for any, and all of my needs. \n\nI have no idea why my skin never turned. But I am not sure that I want to find out. \n", "\"Hey man, have you tried being purple? It's the newest trend!\"\n\n\"Dude, isn't that like, a serious disease?\"\n\n\"Whatever man, being purple is the best! Just ask your mom!\"\n\n\"He's right, sweetie! Being purple has just opened up so many doors for me!\"\n\n\"Is it even curable, what if you're stuck like that forever?\"\n\n\"Don't worry, son! Even if we are purple forever, we'll be purple forever together!\"\n\n\"Dad, I'm immune, remember?\"\n\n\"Oh, right you are. Well, I'll go get your suitcase and you can start packing!\"\n\n\"Wha- DAD!\"\n\n\"It's for your own good, son. We don't want you to be constantly jealous of our purple-ness.\"\n\n\"I'm NOT jealous! Where am I even gonna go!?\"\n\n\"I'd let you stay with me, dude, but you're not purple, and I kind already have purple dudes crashing with me, so...you know how it is.\"\n\n\"So that's it, huh? Because I'm immune to this bullshit disease, I can't live in my own house anymore?\"\n\n\"Aw, don't be blue, sweetie.\"\n\n\"You're mother's right, son. Blue was SO last year!\"" ]	2
	[WP] Rewrite a familiar fairy tale in a noir setting without establishing who the narrator is until the final third.	[ "She's dead. I take a long drag on my cigarette 'We need to hide the evidence and get as far away from here as we can'.\n\nSillhouted in the doorframe he only nodded.\n \nGasoline. Our secret went down in flames that night.\n\n\nI grew up in the city my dad a good for nothing alcoholic and my mother selfishly long dead. My stepmother came along bringing Han with her, my new brother, my new family, my new start. Yeah, right.\n\nHan's mother was even worse than my dad. Not long til we were skin and bone. Then they kicked us out. \n\nWe became street rats for a time.\n\nThen we met Granny.\n\nShe ran a good gig, a club called the ginger bread house. Everything you touched in that club was coated with some kind of class A substance. We were like kids in a candy store.\n\nA charming, bewitching woman. Granny had every police officer in the city under her thumb. She whispered sweet nothings, fattening up the pigs pockets, and got them all hooked on something.\n\nWe went willingly with Granny. We were ensnared, free lines all night long. As much candy as you wanted. Free, at first. See Granny had a way of getting you to climb in to the oven yourself, she only shut the door and turned the heat up.\n\nSoon enough we were Grannys only 'employees' working for more coke and to pay off our ever increasing debts. Han was thin before but now he was ghoulish, like a paper plane could send him crashing. \n\nWe bagged drugs, we ran them about town, we threatened, we robbed, we put a gun to a young man's head. 'We are monstors now,' said Han 'We are the big bad wolf waiting in the woods.' We kept doing lines. Our appetite for the stuff was insationable. We were finally well fed but still hungry.\n\nI came back from a solo drop off one night and knew something was wrong before I stepped inside. There was Han, frightened, crying begging, clothes torn, Granny with a knife. The witch thought Han had been stealing. The only solution for this, said Gran, you pay me back with your body. It's mine.\n\nShe hadn't seen me in the shadows of the club. She didnt see me raise my gun. She heard the bullet release from the barrel. She cursed me as I shot her several more times.\n\n'Gretel stop she's dead' said Hansel.\n\n'We wouldve died here Hansel'\n\n'No. We already were dead here.' His eyes sparkled 'I say we take the money in the safe and go. We go find a place where we can live.'", "It was another stormy night in Little Italy. I was on a case, another kid gone missing. It was the fourth one in as many days. I wasn't gonna get involved, wasn't my place. Then, one of the boys from an orphanage was taken. My mother's orphanage. I tried not to make it personal, but when I heard the pain in her voice I knew it could be only that.\n\nMy boots splash in the puddles on the cracked sidewalk as I make my way across downtown. Whoever had kidnapped these boys had slipped up. Left some torn clothing on a nail. The police had been analyzing it for days. It took me two minutes. Only one man I knew with that blood red color of cloth. I just couldn't understand why he'd resurfaced again. \n\nI turn on the sidewalk and stare at a place I never thought I'd see again. It's neon lights, blinked and sputtered in the rain. The windows and doors had been barred years ago. It used to be a home to me. I'd had some great memories there. Also some worse ones. As I begin to remember, I grab my arm and rub it. A nervous tic I'd developed years ago. I sigh and pat my coat. I can feel the outline of it in my pocket. I feel comfort again. \n\nWith rain cascading through my hair I walk towards the back of the building. The rest of the doors might be boarded up but there's one that I know will be open. Towards the back of the building there lies a button. As I get closer I notice the outline of the button. A blue fairy. My mother. For most a story. For me a reality. As I press the button a side of the wall slides open. I smile and walk inside. Good memories. \n\nMy boots squeaked as they hit the wooden floor. I could hear the constant dripping of water from my coat. The inside of the building looked like any other store. On the walls clocks ticked, each set for 8:37 PM. On the shelves there are bird houses and other wooden objects. They're interesting but not what I'm looking for.\n\nI make my way towards the office side of the store were I can see light glowing. The door handle is familiar in my hand as I grasp it. Slowly, I open the door, avoiding any creak that might have existed. I slide inside and close the door without so much as a click. When I turn around I see him.\n\nThe old man sits in a chair mumbling to himself as he works. His hands are worn from years of work with wood. He's a genius. Also a madman. Bad memories. I catch myself attempting to grab my arm and stop. I recognize what the old man's working on.\n\n\"Jesus Christ....\"\n\nThe old man swivels in his chair and stares at me with a familiar gaze. He has old wiry glasses drooped on his nose. He looks gaunt. Skin hanging off his bones, nose drooped, smile lines on his face. He doesn't look like he could hurt a fly. He could do much worse. \n\n\"I'm sorry young man. We're closed for the night you'll have to come back later.\"\n\nI stared at the table the old man had been sitting at. There was a puppet lying there. An inhuman grin on it's face. It wore a hat with a feather and what can be described as little boys school clothing. It looked just like I had as a child. The most terrifying part of the puppet was it's left arm. A still human arm.\n\n\"What did you do.....why!?\"\n\nThe old man stared at me and then let out a sigh moving his glasses back up to his nose. \n\n\"I used to have a son..... Oh, he was beautiful. A better child you've never known. Ah, he got in trouble every now and then as most young boys do. There's nothing I loved more in life then that child. You know he was a puppet just like this boy..... my new son.\"\n\nI could see the tears in the old man's eyes. I felt the sincerity behind his words. Then I felt my tears join his. I rolled up my right sleeve slowly and the old man gasped. You see the blue fairy changed most of me but my arm... my arm was still wood.\n\n\"P.... Pinnochio?\"\n\nI stared at my father knowing what I had to do. What I had come to do. I grabbed the object out of my pocket as he stared. It was a 1977 cricket gun. One of a kind. Made by the most brilliant man I'd ever known. Gepetto.\n\n\"I'm sorry, Papa.\"\n\nThe old man. Papa. Geppetto. He stares at me and in his last moment he closes his eyes with a smile on his face.\n\n\"Be a good boy.... Pinnochio.\"", "I watched the rain drizzle down the windshield. Off Track Betting flickered in large neon lights, a beacon in the storm at the end of the lot. \n\n“I need you to find my wife. She’s been kidnapped and taken upstate. Just find her and bring her back. I’ll handle the rest.” Just a couple weeks a ago I had been sitting on the wrong side of the desk from one of New York Cities major crime bosses. \n\nKidnapped, right. There were plenty of rumors that claimed maybe she was the one to leave him drugged and run off with her new man. Mob bosses were always so old fashioned about their wives. \n\nThis place was my idea. My “favor” in return for some unsolicited help the mob had given me a while back. You never turn down the opportunity to do a favor. My job was simple, set up the meeting point. The OTB was small, out of the way, and owned by one of his friends, made things easy. He would handle the rest, and handle it he did. You see you don’t take on a boss like this and expect to last long. Especially if the farthest you can make it is some small run down city outside the state capital. \n\nI stepped out of the car and was immediately soaked by the rain. The OTB was surrounded by half a dozen black luxury sedans. The meeting had gone exactly how the boss planned it. I pushed open what was left of the front door. OTB’s are cheap he could always build another but sending a message about how possessive you are of your wife, priceless.\n\nThe cashier’s window was bullet proof with reinforced steel walls. He sat back burning a few receipts so he wouldn’t have to pay winnings to the next of kin on a the couple of low life gamblers who hadn’t been so lucky. I found Paris’s staring face up. Even riddled with bullets he was gorgeous. His face stared blankly to the heavens as if sculpted by God himself. His impeccably tailored suit seemed to resist the blood stains as it pooled around him and the deep red now drowning his Dolce shoes only helped their shine. Hell if he were still alive I might have run away him. I doubt my wife would hunt me down as vigorously. \n\nBehind the bench next to him I found her, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. They must have made the most elegant couple in history. Her eyes were wide with panic and adrenaline. Hellen was alive a smoking pistol in hand pointing at Paris’ corpse. Did she shoot him? I didn’t bother to ask. Not my problem.\n\n“Are you sure you want to go back?” I put one had on the pistol and unclasped her fingers.\n\n“Of course.” The shock was in full affect and she had only just become aware of my presence. “Who do you think you are? Take me to my husband.” \n\nI helped her to her feet and led her out the door. Her husband gave a cursory thank you and drove off. All I could think of now was being home with my family. I was too tired for that drive tonight. I sat back down in my car. The Odyssey Motel was just a few miles away", "I should have known better than to stop by the bad side of the city.\n\nCrimson blood was spilled everywhere. The whole house was painted red and black with gore and darkness. Food and furniture spilled on the floor.\nAnd judging by the sounds in the room inside, someone was there.\n\nWhat a lucky day to carry a concealed.\n\nI steadied my feet , one step at the time, careful to not make any sound, hiding in the shadows, just like I always do.\nYou simply do not survive and live to be at my age by being out in the open.\n\nI had a hard life. I have the faintest of memories about my mom, never knew my dad.\nManaged to live on the streets and learned the art of being invisible.\n\nBut, even then, this was a safe haven.\nMy safe haven.\nAnd now someone is inside.\n\nA creak is heard. Fuck.\n\nA board seems to have been in a bad shape for a while, hence the loud noise and hole that was on the floor right now.\n\nI hear shuffling.\nThey know I'm here\nFuck me.\n\nMy presence is clear, but I still have the advantage of a hidden gun and a bitchy attitude.\nAnd considering the physical disadvantage I have, there is one option left.\n\nPlay dumb.\n\nAnd so with this decision, I step in front of the door and slowly twisted the knob, entering inside.\n\n\n\" HI grandma, how are you doing??? And why are your eyes so big???\"\n\n\nWow I'm bad at this. ", "A drop of sweat trickled down my forehead as I frantically scanned the papers laid out before me. I searched frivolously for just a hint of this man. Surely someone has crossed paths with him before, I could not be the first. \n\n‘Fuck’, I mumbled angrily to myself. My head objected to turning but my eyes swiveled to the clock above the table. Time was running out. So far none of my spies were able to dig up anything on this old man. So much for having ears on the street.\n\n‘Focus’. I turned back to the papers, searching for headlines that might prove relevant to saving my child. No recent kidnappings or hostages taken that I could find, although any reporter with his notepad would probably never believe the details of anyone who made such a claim. I leaned back in my chair and let out a sign of exasperation. The silence of the small office returned nothing. And then a knock at the door…\n\n‘Come in’, I called as I quickly turned to the door. The door opened to reveal James had returned.\n\n‘Please tell me you found something’, I begged.\n\n‘Maybe. See I went down to O’Neil’s place liked you asked. I asked the bartender if he knew anything and he claimed he knew nothing. But see, as I’m talking, I see a guy in a booth keep looking up at me and getting real shifty. So I followed him outside’\n\n‘Oh James you didn’t hurt this guy did you?’\n\n‘No no I just encouraged him to tell me what he knows.’, he insisted. His demeanor shifted from playful to hopeful ‘Lucy, He gave me a name…’\n____\n\nThe sun was setting through the window of my living room. It felt warmer today. I sat next to the bassinet, which held my little baby boy. So innocent. I won't let this freak touch him.\n\nI heard light steps coming from the dining room to the left me. ‘Speak of the devil’, I thought to myself. I turned to see the deformed, old man approaching me. \n\n‘Time’s up. I hope you said your goodbyes’ he hissed. \n\nStill seated, I turned my head and grinned at him. ‘The only goodbyes’ we’ll be saying is to you Rumpelstiltskin’\n\nShock overtook his face. ‘No, no you cheated! You fucking cheated!’, he cried. As he was forced to recede into the shadows.\n\nI let out a sigh of relief as I lift my boy and carried him to bed.\n", "Magic beans. You don't find those just lying around. Actual, genuine magic beans. How much are they worth? A small house? A plot of land? A kingdom? Or an old cow? \nYet that's what happened. A pouch of legitimate magic beans in exchange for a battered bovine. Someone got the raw end of the deal. Maybe the hooded stranger didn't know they were magic. Yet that's what he told Jack. Maybe he didn't believe it? Well he'd believe it soon enough.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe kid pranced home, bag of beans held tightly in his scrawny fist. His smile was so large it could be seen from miles away. It was soon wiped off by his Mother's angry screams and a red welt left on his cheek. The boy went to bed hungry that night and the beans spilled out in the garden, nestled in the soil. As the poor boy and his mother slept fitfully, the moon illuminated a wondrous sight. Bright green tendrils shooting upwards from the earth, growing as they extended, reaching up, up,up till they breached the clouds above.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe clouds where my castle rests. What a coincidence. These incredibly valuable beans given away for a pittance to the one boy who lived miles below me. That rapidly growing bean stalk encroaching on my land, my small slice of the sky. One hooded stranger, too scared to do the dirty work himself so he sends a boy. Does he think that will stop me?\n\nFee-fi-fo-fum, there'll be more than one dead, when I am done.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nr/AMSWrites" ]	6
	[WP] You awake to the sound of thousands of notifications pinging your phone. They are coming from unknown numbers, as well as Instagram, Twitter and other social media platforms, and all with a similar message. "Congratulations!!!" The final message says "We can't wait to work with you."	[ "“otac94”\n\nThat was the username that my phone screen had displayed, along with the message “We can't wait to work with you”. I had received this message via Snapchat. But not before my phone had been blasted with a hurricane of notifications from my various social media accounts including Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, & Gmail. \n\nEvery message received before otac94's final message was just a simple “Congratulations”. But the detail that I found beyond off putting was that each name for each social media account was a variation of the name “Dijete” followed by a random number. As with Facebook, the name was always Dijete followed by a number that was spelled out in place of their last name.The profile picture, along with the background picture for Twitter & Facebook, for each account was just a white background. It was as if all of the accounts were not in use.\n\nConfused & somewhat terrified, I tried to contact otac94 through Snapchat's messaging feature. Hands shaking, sweating, and the rest of my body jittery from paranoia, I typed......\n\n“Who the fuck are you? How did you get this account? Answer me.”\n\nI sent the message and waited for what seemed like the lifespan of a million tortoises. It had been only three minutes. Otac94 had began typing. He replies a few seconds later. He stops typing. \n\nSeveral seconds later, he sends me a photo graph of what looked like glass. Beyond the glass was a blur of colors that seemed to take the shape of something familiar. I couldn't put my finger on. And then it hit me. It was my back door that lead to my back porch.\n\nAbsolutely high off of anxiety, I rushed downstairs. I ran into the kitchen, knowing of a false wooden plank, under which I had kept a Mossberg 590. Petrified, yet prepared, I slowly crept towards my back door. Initially, being that it had been made from glass, I hadn't seen anything beyond it. But I still knew I had to keep my guard up.\n\nSlowly and descretely, I opened the door.\n\nIt was not what was in front of me that had me in near catatonic shock, it was to the left and right of me. \n\nIn front of me was absolutely nothing but my porch, which was wide and had a staircase which led to my backyard. \n\nTo the left of me was a large crowd of people, all the same height of at least 5\"9, all Caucasian, and dressed in rather casual attire. The most unnerving feature was that they all were wearing masks of famous cartoon characters, such as Mickey Mouse and SpongeBob, that covered the entirety of their faces.\n\nTo the right of me, another large crowd of people. This time, while also the same height of about 5\"9, were all African-American and dressed in very formal attire. In addition, they had not been wearing the masks of famous cartoon characters. But rather those of famous real life people. The amount of detail in each mask was somewhat lazy, so aside from masks that resembled Elvis Presley and Barack Obama, each one was beyond recognition.\n\nThey all stood frozen solid like parked cars. Until one man to the left of me wearing a Porky Pig mask began to wave vigorously in what seemed to be excitement. The others to the left and right of me followed along. Analyzing my surroundings, drenched in fear and anxiety, I looked once more in front of me. \n\nMy heart was at a near stand still.\n\nWalking up the staircase was a man, 6\"2 at the shortest, wearing a white suit, long red hair, and no mask revealing a rather welcoming facial expression along with a short, curly beard and blue eyes. The most excruciatingly horrifying part of him was the amount of what seemed to be a mix of blood, feces, urine, and potentially semen that he had looked like he showered in.\n\nOnce he reaches to top of the stairs, I cocked my Mossberg and took my best shot at his head. On impact, the shell burst through his head, blowing off the majority of it. Several seconds later, he falls dead on my porch.\n\nFrozen in a blizzard of emotion, I stood solid. The crowd had stopped waving and stood still. It was dead silent to the point were you could hear footsteps from the next town over. After a while, several people from both crowds ran towards me at break-neck speeds.\n\nI had tried to fend them all with my trusty Mossberg, but it was no use against the feeling of roughly ten swift punches to the face and stomach per second. Eventually, four people had managed to pin me to the ground. That's when a person from the crowd to my right had approached the crowd. He mowed through the riot towards me.\n\nHe stood in front of me for a few seconds. He then proceeded to squat down. He was wearing a mask that seemed to resemble Jimmy Kimmel, but I couldn't be sure. He then took it off.\n\nLike the rest who were in the crowd to my right, he was African American. He had deep blue eyes and a large beard with short hair. After inspecting his facial features, he smiled and whispered to me.........\n\n“We can't wait to work with you”\n\nThe words had forever been cemented on my brain. He then proceeded to rip my shirt off with his bare hands. Upon seeing this both crowds cheered agressiveley as they ran towards me and the man. He then proceeded to pull out a large switchblade.\n\nHe began to carve into my chest what looked like the number eight. After this, he began to carve what, at first, seemed to be a series of lines with a large curvature at the bottom. Upon closer inspection, I saw that both carvings in my chest made the number Eighty-Five.\n\nThis is when I realized something. I looked at my surroundings, only to find that on everybody's wrist was the word “Dijete” followed by a number. Finally, as the man now atop of me turned his switchblade over to my left wrist, I noticed a small tattoo under his right eye that spelled out the word “Otac”." ]	1
	[WP] You are walking down an alley in the rain when you happen upon a rather large puddle. Ignoring it and walking carefully, you keep going. To your surprise, when you reach the middle of the puddle you are falling into another place. Where are you and what is happening?	[ "The last echoes of thunder slowly fall silent as I take a step out to begin my walk back home. The air is heavy with the scent of petrichor as the last drops slowly wane and the sun break s over the horizon. Blood red and orange hues streak the sky in the distance. I look out over the river on my brief walk from back Detroit Proper to Eastern Market. Don’t get many moments like this out here in the city.\n\nI stride along the riverwalk for a precious few moments, bobbing and weaving those few I see finishing their evening run or sharing in the beauty of the immaculate sunset as the city lights begin flickering into existence and I round my corner up the Dequindre Cut. Nothing wrong with taking the scenic route. By the time I’ve finished my jaunt, just a few blocks from my quaint little apartment, I stop for a moment. Strange. This alley usually isn’t too bad after a good rain, although it’s not too surprising with the downpour we got earlier. Someone probably just left a trash bag a little too close to one of the storm drains. Wore my good shoes too.\n\nIt’s strangely calm. Normally the rumbling of automobiles would shake the image away, but the puddle is glass. The surface glistening and smooth, as if the puddle was nothing less than the sky above slowly turning to dusk underfoot. I’m mesmerized by the simplicity of the moment. What a beautiful sight. If I had an artistic bone in my body, I might even want to paint it.\n\nMy stomach growls, snapping me out of the moment, urging me to get back to my apartment and toss a passable meal together. What’s gotten into me today? I should stop working so late. Or force myself to eat at normal times. Who knows. Either way, I guess.\n\nI take a step, and where my foot should meet ground, it passes through, as if I’ve stepped off the edge of a cliff. The gaping maw of the shimmering image, unmoved by the presence of my body, swallows me whole.\n\n\\--\n\nI breathe in the smell of earth, and run my fingers through the grass. Slowly bringing focus into the world as I open my eyes, I take in the scene around me. Vibrant hues of purple, red, yellow. Wildflowers. A meadow in the forest. The faint humming of insects, and the trickling babble of a nearby creek. What a beautiful image.\n\nI slowly sit upright, careful not to disturb the world as I breathe in the scene around me. The faintest of whispers in the back of my mind reminds me my name. “Josh…” I look around for the source, nowhere to be found. Lost in the moment, until a distant tug at the back of my mind and faint form coalesces in front of me.\n\nA child, no older than 7. Auburn hair and bright, round hazel eyes. His smile is pure joy breaking through a crooked, toothy grin. He plucks the flowers from their bed, hands bursting at the seams with perennials, daisies, hyssops. He turns his back and takes off in the carefree and delighted way that only children who haven’t experience the weight of the world are able to run.\n\n“Momma, look what I got for you!” An exquisite laugh rings out nearby. I rise to my feet and follow the sound, until they come into view. The same auburn hair, hanging just past the shoulders of a young adult woman. She raises the bundle of flowers and breathes the aroma in deeply. “Thank you, Joshy. They’re beautiful.” I stand back at the edge of the treeline, not wanting to intrude on a moment like this, that so few families get to share.\n\nShe turns around to look back at where her child came from, eyes finally coming to rest on me. No, not on me... through me. Her brow furrows for a moment, until she turns back to face her child and my breathing falters, caught in my chest.\n\n“Mom?”\n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] You wake up a human lie detector, and your ability tells you everything your best friend told you, including his name, is a lie.	[ "\"Un-fucking-believeable Fredrick\", I screamed into the phone. \"How could you have lied to me about your name! Harold? Give me a break\".\n\nI was so mad I didn't realize the people staring at me in the underground subway. I turn around to avoid their gaze and continue.\n\n\"W-what do you mean man\", he said, choking on his words as the very truth of him has been exposed. \"Who told you? How did you find out?\" He was practically pissing his pants at this point. I paused for a minute. How did I know? What was this sudden urge of realization? Everything Haro- erm, Fredrick told me this far has been a lie. His 8 membered family in China, his 13 years of service in the Navy, his long distance girlfriend, Maria. I mean, it might've been obvious he didn't have that relationship but to be friends with him for so long and to have been lied to this much. \n\nMy anger boiled inside me. I was ready to shout until a bag was forced over my head. My hands were being held by a tight grip as well as my legs. I panicked, I screamed, but it was muffled. I think I was practically pissing my pants at this point. \n\nWe stop.\n\n\"Put him in the trunk\", a gruffly voice yelled from in front of me. My heart began racing as I hear the latch of the trunk unhitch. They threw me in and slammed it shut. \n\n\"Fuck me\", I thought, trying to separate my hands. I didn't know they were tied, considering it had been held tight until now. I was, how they say, fucked. I feel and hear the car take off. In a sudden jolt, I'm thrown into the front of the opening, head hitting something oddly comfortable. I managed to calm down. \n\n\"Where are we going?\"\n\"Am I going to die?\"\nThe thoughts circled my brain until I had a clever idea.\n\n\"I am going to die\", I muffled out.\n\nAn undescribable feeling coursed through the back of my neck. It was a lie. Feeling relieved, I relax my shoulders and let my breathing calm. \"Am I going to see Fredrick\", I thought. That's probably why he sounded so scared. He was probably hiding and I exposed him so plainly like that. Or maybe he's a criminal on the run? I wish I knew but I didn't. The thought of it scared me.\n\nA few minutes passed and the vehicle came to a soft, slow halt. I heard he sounds of car doors opening and closing. More than enough to be one car. I began to panic again,y breath frantically trying to catch itself. \n\nThe trunk opens.\nI'm pulled out from my shoulders and forced to the ground. An object pressed against my head and the bag is removed. Standing in front of me was none other than Fredrick. But it wasn't like those typical movie scenes where they would have a smirk, no, this was different. The whole aura was off. \n\n\"Mr. Tre Seams, born September fourth, nineteen eighty two\". \n\nAh shit. It's witness protection.\n\n\"Age Thrity Four\", the voice resumes. \"Single, no social life, born with no father\". \n\nThe voice continues to list my personal information and my life. I almost fell asleep until I was forced onto my feet and turned around to face man with a suit and a document in his hand that read -[CLASSIFIED]- in big red letters. Fredrick's picture was located in the top right, held by a paper clip. \n\n\"How do you know Fredrick if he introduced himself to you as Harold Montgommery\", the man sternly asked. His eyes stared into mine, patiently waiting for answer. \nI didn't know what to tell him. If I told him that it just felt like a hunch, he'd instantly have me arrested and sent to prison. I had to think fast.\n\n\"I-It's a long story\", I muttered out.\n\nThe man then, was handed two foldable chairs. He put one behind me and then sat on his own. Me? I was forced to sit and held down by the guy still pointing his gun to my head.\n\n\"Well, let's hear this story then\", he stated. \"I have all day\".\n\nAnd so, I began.", "\"Joey, what's your real name?\" I ask him.\n\n\"Huh?\" he responds, grinning. \"My real name? Joseph Patrick Mulgrew. You know that, Frankie.\"\n\n\"No I don't,\" I shoot back. \"As a matter of fact, I know that's not your real name.\"\n\n\"Oh really? Well, that would be news to me, Frankie!\" he laughs. \"So, what do you think my name is, if it's not what I think it is?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" I respond, trembling. \"I just know that everything you've ever said to me is a lie.\"\n\n\"Everything? A lie? Come on, Frankie, we've known each other for over 30 years. Do you really think I've been lying to you all this time?\"\n\nI steel myself. \"I don't think it, I know it.\"\n\nHe looks concerned, though I know it's just another lie. \"Oh? And how do you know it, all of a sudden?\"\n\n\"I've had the ability to detect lies, since I woke up this morning.\"\n\nHis look of concern deepens. \"And...was anything else different?\"\n\nThat question caught me off guard. \"Well,\" I start, \"I do have a bit of a headache, and my left side's a little weak...\"\n\nHe yells to the foreman, \"Harry! Call 911, tell 'em Frankie's had a stroke and I'm running him to the ER at Saint Edna!\"\n\n\"A stroke?\" Harry responds. \"Why do you think he's had a--\"\n\n\"Just make the fucking call!\" he yells at Harry, as he slings me over his shoulder like a sack of flour and heads for the door.\n\nOnce we're in Joey's car, he peels out of the parking lot like a man with a death wish, headed for the hospital.\n\n\"Who are you and why are you doing this?\" I ask him, terrified.\n\n\"I'm trying to save your fucking life, buddy,\" he responds immediately. \"Tell me, Frankie, which is more likely: One, that a guy has a stroke in his sleep, and the next morning has the delusion that his best friend isn't who he says he is...\n\n\"Or two, that a guy wakes up with a miraculous truth-detecting ability, and the first guy he sees happens to lie about everything?\"\n\nI'd been so caught up trying to figure out why Joey was lying to me that I hadn't even considered that it might be my own mind that was lying. \"I see your point,\" I mutter, getting really frightened now.\n\nIn the ER, they give me a sedative to calm me, and it starts to put me to sleep. As it takes hold, draining me of will, I hear Joey and the doctor talking--\n\n\"So that's what he said. What do you think, Doc?\"\n\n\"Interesting case... I'd like to keep him for a few days for observation, but first we need to increase the standard meds in his diet. Some of the humans develop an immune response like this, but it's easy enough to keep ahead of it once it's identified. Good job, Griznflindo.\"\n\n\"That's Joey if you don't mind!\"\n\nThey both laughed, as I drifted off to dreamless sleep." ]	2
	[WP] As a child, like many children, you had an imaginary friend. You are now an adult, and you've long learned your imaginary friend is actually a dimensional being who was kicked out of its own dimension for bad behavior.	[ "“It’s been three weeks,” I mumbled. I focused on the paperweight - a little green frog - on Dr. Mangelsen's desk, trying to ignore his gaze. I fidgeted in my seat, absentmindedly stroking the stringy bits of hair from my face. “I think he might be gone for good this time.” Dr. Mangelsen grunted and scribbled on his notepad.\n\n“What did he say the last time you saw him?” he asked. We had already been over this, but I guess he had a reason to keep asking me.\n\n“Well he wasn’t mad or anything,” I explained. “Just told him he needed to leave, that I needed to get healthy.” I glanced up and saw that familiar look - the judging eyes, the furrowed brow. The doctor was worried about me. Just like everyone else. \n\n“I didn’t ask what you said, Jake,” he scolded. “What did ‘Bexil’ say?”\n\n“Said I should stop listening to everyone. Told me I was his only shot at staying around. \nHe seemed upset.” I looked back down at the paperweight. “Not mad, like I said, but...disappointed.” I clenched my fist. “I’m killing him with the pills, doc.” Mangelsen sighed, and I heard him throw his glasses on the desk. I winced and looked back up.\n\n“Jake, your medicine is helping you.”\n\n“But I don’t want him to-”\n\n“He’s not real, Jake!” Mangelsen slammed his fist on the table. I didn’t think he had it in him. “I know that you know that, or you wouldn’t be here.”\n\nOf course I knew that. I knew Bexil couldn’t be real. He was my imaginary friend from childhood, for Christ’ sake. But whether he was real or not didn’t matter. He was my anchor, the one person I could count on. He always knew what I should say or do when I didn’t. Is that why my brain had decided to keep him around for twenty-something years? The doctor was right, though. If I didn’t think I needed help I wouldn’t have come here. \n\n“I know, doc,” I breathed. “It just feels like I’m losing a part of myself.” \n\n“That’s completely normal,” Mangelsen returned. “Just keep taking your medicine, and participate in group, deal?” I nodded, standing to shake his hand before leaving. I promised him that I would take my medicine, and headed back to my room. It was free time, so a lot of the doors were open as I wandered down the hall. I said hi to Mary as I passed. She grunted at me, waving a paint-stained hand in my direction. I reached my room at the end of the hall and -\n\n“Hey Jake.” \n\nAh shit. I looked to my right and there he was. He sat on the chair by my desk, his bright yellow skin looking tight and sinewy under his black tracksuit. His spindly limbs jutted out as he dwarfed the chair, light blue hair cascading down from his head in three ponytails. Standing up Bexil probably reached over seven feet tall. His red eyes penetrated as he stared at me, waiting for a response. Though he had spoken, there was no mouth to be seen. Where his mouth should have been was just another patch of skin. When he “spoke”, Bexil’s voice seemed to fill the space around me. \n\n“I thought you were gone,” I grunted. \n\n“Just wanted to give you some time to think,” he returned, cocking his head.\n\n“Go away Bexil,” I said. “I’ve been getting better.” I closed my door and flopped onto my bed. Bexil floated up from the chair and toward my bed, legs and arms crossed. \n\n“I cannot just go away, Jake,” Bexil replied. “I don’t want to go away. It’s much nicer here.”\n\n“You’re not real.”\n\n“I am.” Bexil lowered his insectile face to mine and pushed against it like a cat. I reached up and stroked his ear.\n\n“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Interdimensional being, banished from your home, I am some sort of anchor for you in our world,” I waved my hand. “You’re part of my mind Bex. This isn’t healthy.” Bexil moved his face back and furrowed his brow at me. I could hear a hiss fill the space around my head. \n\n“They’re trying to hurt you Jake,” he said. “Look, no one else talked to you, but I did.” He was changing tactics. Trying to make me feel bad about myself again. Make me feel like I need him, owe him. I started to feel sick for hurting him. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the feeling. \n\n", "I still to this day can't remember if Mr. Jangles is a name I came up with, or he did. I've asked, and he won't tell me. There's a lot he doesn't tell me, and I had to figure out myself.\n\nI know you can't see him, and there's nothing I can do to show you what he looks like, so please humor me. When I look at Mr. Jangles, what I see looks like a child's cartoon drawing of a clown. White body, with a cartoonish red face, big red and blue polka dots, and a fluffy red pom-pom atop what appears to be a hat, although I know now it isn't.\n\nWhen my imaginary friend first appeared to me, my folks thought it was a phase. As I grew older, and Mr. Jangles kept hanging around, my parents grew more impatient with any mention of him. They went from kindly explaining that Mr. Jangles wasn't real, to being irritated and annoyed that I wouldn't stop the charade, to outright anger whenever I so much as mentioned him. So I stopped. Talking about him, that is. But he's always there.\n\nAs a teenager, it didn't take me long to realize that imaginary friends were something kids my age had tended to grow out of. Wanting to fit in, there was a while where I made a concerted effort to ignore him, thinking that would make him go away, and I'd be normal, like everyone else. But he never did.\n\nOne day, in science class, I was doing my hardest to ignore Mr. Jangles as he danced a silly dance while singing children's songs, when the teacher was explaining to us the scientific method. As always, when Mr. Jangles was being distracting, it was hard to focus... my parents were bewildered at why my grades were suffering. The topic matter might have completely gone over my head, had the teacher not said something that sticks with me to this day:\n\n\"If you have questions about the world around you, or the things in it. If you have questions about how things work, or what things are, the scientific method is the best way we know how to find the answer.\"\n\nQuestions... I did have questions, burning questions that I'd been wanting to know for years. Questions I couldn't ask any adult... my parents made that much clear to me. But I didn't need to get an adult for help. Here was the key to finding answers! I just had to learn how to use it.\n\nMr. Jangles can't read my mind, or at least his actions are consistent with someone who can't. But even so, I think he could at least sense that my heightened interest in my science class had something to do with him, and he made it a point to be even more distracting as I tried to study.\n\nIt didn't matter. I was ravenous for answers, and for the first time I had hope that there actually were answers. Despite Mr. Jangles's protests and attempts to convince me to do other things, I poured myself into my studies, learned everything I could about the scientific method.\n\nThe first step in the scientific method is formulating a question. That was easy: What is Mr. Jangles?\n\nOkay, the second step was to form a hypothesis. Basically, come up with answers to the question that I could test. Well, basically, there seemed to be only two answers I could think of... either Mr. Jangles really was an invisible person only I could see, or I was crazy.\n\nThe third step in the scientific method is prediction. In other words, I had to think of other things that would be true if one of my hypotheses were true. This was difficult. I eventually settled on a prediction that if Mr. Jangles was a real person, that meant he was separate from me and capable of learning things I didn't know. But if I was just crazy, everything Mr. Jangles knew would be something I knew too, because me being crazy would mean Mr. Jangles was inside my head.\n\nNext: testing. I had to come up with a test that would answer my prediction. I ultimately found a way. Breaking my silent treatment with Mr. Jangles, I started interacting with him again, to build trust. He was delighted to have his friend back, even as I felt sick to my stomach going back on years of ignoring him. Finally, I convinced him to wait in my bedroom while I went to get a snack.\n\nWithout him present, I went to speak to my kid sister, and I told her I had a strange favor to ask her. I told her I wanted to play a game, a guessing game. I wanted her to go into my room, quickly, and take something, and then hide it in her room. When she was done, I told her, I would have to guess what she took.\n\nMy sister loves playing games, and jumped at the opportunity to try out a new one. She ran off to my room, and I hastily continued to the kitchen to get my snack. When I got back to my room, I made it a point not to look in, and I told Mr. Jangles I wanted to eat out in the TV room.\n\nMr. Jangles seemed like he was going to explode with excitement, telling me he caught my sister stealing something from me. I asked him what she stole, and he told me she stole my Captain Space action figure, bouncing with glee at getting to rat out my sister. So of course I went to my sister and asked her if that was what she took, and her jaw dropped.\n\n\"How did you know?\" she asked, \"I saw you in the hall! You didn't even go in your bedroom!\"\n\nBingo. Information I couldn't know, but Mr. Jangles did. I wasn't crazy.\n\nOver time, I performed more experiments, and gradually learned more about Mr. Jangles. He couldn't touch objects, but for some reason he couldn't go through walls, unless he is trapped and I try to leave him, in which case he can apparently force himself through. He has a sense of sight and a sense of hearing, but no sense of smell, taste, or touch. That last one was difficult, since he can't touch anything, I had to try to get him to feel himself and tell me what it felt like.\n\nMr. Jangles can move at two miles per hour, slower than human walking speed. However, he seems to be tethered to me, and can move faster if I move out of his range, which appears to be around four hundred feet or so. Mr. Jangles knows English, and was able to figure out Pig Latin, but can't speak other languages - a discovery that quickly had me learning how to speak Spanish.\n\nMr. Jangles's \"hat\", as I mentioned, is no such thing. It is a part of his body, or possibly attached to him somehow, although I can't see any reason that would be true. He can't read my mind or anyone else's mind. I found out apparently he can instantly make large calculations when I asked him to help me do my taxes and he made some offhand joke about how I owed enough that the IRS could afford to buy a new PlayStation, which turned out to be surprisingly accurate. Well, and depressing.\n\nWhen I graduated, I pulled Mr. Jangles aside and confronted him. I told him what I knew, he denied everything categorically. I asked pointed questions about things he knew I knew the real answers to. He tried to change the subject. I told him he needed to come clean or I was going back to giving him the silent treatment.\n\nHe reluctantly told me who he really was. He said he was a dimensional being exiled from his own dimension. I... couldn't really think of any way to test that. I had about a million more questions, but he refused to elaborate. He told me he held up his end of the deal, and now I was obligated to stay his friend.\n\nHe actually said that, \"his friend\". This strange clown creature from another dimension, constantly stalking me, always nearby, refusing to leave me alone, and he called me his friend.\n\nAfter that, things went back to the way they were. He never talked about the dimensional stuff anymore, and went back to acting like a goofy, juvenile cartoon clown.\n\nWhy couldn't I have been haunted by a sexy woman? Or... I dunno, followed around by the specter of Mitch Hedberg or something? This creature has evidently seen things that would fascinate every scientist in the world, but all he wants to do is play around and act \"funny\" in a way that only children would find funny.\n\nA few years ago, I was watching this movie, Inside-Out, and at one point in the movie, we see a little girl's imaginary friend fade away as an act of love and self-sacrifice. It's supposed to be this heart-wrenching, tragic moment, but all I could think was how much I wanted the same thing. That little girl got to leave her childhood behind and start growing up, but mine... mine will be forever tethered to me.\n\nWhen I go on a job interview, he's there in the corner making farty noises. When I take a girl home after a date, he's laughing about cooties and I have to plead with him out of earshot of the girl to please just give me a few hours to myself.\n\nIt's a constant battle, every day, to try to focus on me and my own life. This must be how schizophrenics must feel, except schizophrenics at least have the benefit of medical treatment options that might at least help with their condition. I can only endure.\n\nIf things went on like this, I might have given up, ended it all, but then Lucy came into my life.\n\n(Cont...)" ]	2
	[WP] Your identical twin brother is a talented spy. You on the other hand are quite the opposite. One day you visit his office. But they get you mixed up with your twin.	[ "\"Smith what are you doing just standing there? They want you in aisle four now.\" Smith? That was me, why would they want me? I am here to visit my twin brother, my boss gave me a free day off work and I decided I would drop by. When were younger we would be very close and we did everything together, shared the same room, shared the same friends and shared the same events. It was almost like he was my second self. However, as we got older we began to vary in different things.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n First we changed our style of clothing, I preferred to wear more bright colors, even going so far as to have full sets of just one color with my favorite being yellow. My brother on the other hand preferred to dress all in black and to embody this dark brooding mannerism about him. I still loved him but after that initial step we began to differ more and more until the only way you could tell we were related was because he was identical to me. He started to listen to Hard Rock and Metal while I preferred the Pop music, he began reading many epic fantasies while I didn't read at all. We even differed in the people we preferred to hang out with. I was more active and wanted a lively large bunch of people, my brother preferred to hang out with just one or two people. All through High School we would hang out a lot but we drifted. I never thought it would get so far but now my brother finds himself as a secret spy, he told me only a few months ago and I still have to wrap my head around it. My twin brother a spy! It can't be. Well today I decided to check it out for myself and came by to his office, it was a shabby looking place situated next to a library.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n From afar you could tell that it looked dingy as some of the bricks were burnt and crumbling, the windows stained and some of them even cracked. The steps leading up to it looked like it had moss on it during summer. It had about three stories and was inconspicuous, so much so I would not have been able to find it had I not been specifically told by my brother that it was opposite the library. As I entered I found that the inside did not reflect the outside at all. The inside was white, shiny and immaculate. With a long corridor and many doors with no windows. In the main room was just one desk and a man was seated there, the man who had talked to me.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n He was wearing a jet blue suit that seemed to blend with the environment around well almost like a piece of artwork. He spoke with an authoritative yet respectful voice telling me to make my way over. I looked around hoping to see my brother but he was nowhere to be found, that was when I realized that they must have mistaken me for my brother, \"Oh I am sorry you must be talking about Jay Smith. I am John Smith. Very different.\" The man looked into my eyes with a serious face, his green eyes seeming to frown into mine. There was a moment of silence before the man laughed, \"You lighten my mood John. Well played. No come on you've got an important mission. You know where to go.\" He flicked his fingers down the hall to one of the many doors that were to be found in the corridor. John? Did my brother seriously adopt my name as his spy name! That piece of shit!\n\n&#x200B;\n\n When I find him I will have a word with him. I tried to open my mouth to speak but by some magic that man noticed it and held his finger up, \"Third door to the right. Now go.\" I felt my heart peeling apart and begin to pump with intense speed. What do I do now? Do I do what he says? Do I leave? I cannot do this! I know nothing about this, I work a day job in an office managing sales. I know nothing about anything that my brother is doing. Why did I have to come here? Why couldn't I have just called my girlfriend and we could have had a nice day out. Now I am forcing myself to take the role of my brother. Isn't that illegal? I will not be subject to this. I turned around and headed out of that door and out of that building, I would not be a part of this insane game that my brother might be playing \n\n&#x200B;\n\n \n\n\\*\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAs John Smith left the building, Jay Smith walked up and entered. He walked over to the desk and leaned unto it, \"So you got anything for me today?\" The man looked up and jumped backwards in shock, \"What! How did you get changed so quickly?!\" Jay frowned and looked about and thought on it a little. Shit. \"You must have met my brother.\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"You have an identical brother?!\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Why yes I do.\"\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1
	[WP] A knight rescues a princess from a dragon and wins her hand in marriage... The problem being that they're both gay and the king is wholly oblivious.	[ "She stepped next to me, the lovely lady. Together we watched the king happily pace, speaking about flowers and ribbons and something of sending the maids to gather the finest in the kingdom.\n\n\"Perhaps you did not speak loud enough,\" the princess spoke softly, only for my ears.\n\n\"Nay, I am sure I was clear. The guards by the doors did,\" I glanced back. I was gifted a favouring smile.\n\nThe lady had a knowing look upon her face. I barely restrained myself from shoving her like a young brother, as I had done on our way back from Drakemoors.\n\n\"Perhaps... he is not familiar with the euphemism?\" she ventured. \"There is room to make wrong assumptions about not caring for satin gowns. A lot of room.\"\n\n\"Ah, you may be right.\"\n\nThe king was speaking with a messenger, hands flying in excitement.\n\nShe had no qualms about bumping me, it seemed. \"What are you waiting!?\"\n\nI stepped forward, the sound of my armor failing to draw the kings attention, though the messenger glanced my way. Oh hello, such blue eyes... \"My king, I believe I may have spoken unclearly.\"\n\nNow he looked at us. \"Ah? What? And call me father! We will be family soon!\"\n\nThe lady cleared her throat aggressively.\n\n\"I repeat that I must decline your generous offer, but-\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, you have nothing to worry, no satin gowns at the wedding! Only the finest silks and softest furs! Daughter mine, how would a dress of ermine skin sound like?\"\n\n\"Oh for the love of the kingdom, father...\" she sighed. It was mighty elegant.\n\n\"Sire!\" I dared interrupt. \"I beg you to forget about any fabrics, that is not what I meant! I meant... I prefer the other side of the fence.\"\n\nThe king looked baffled now. \"The other side of the fence? Oh! Of course, a wedding in the country! How delightfully different and humble! We can-\"\n\n\"Daddy!\" the lady forcefully brought her slippered foot down on the stone floor. \"That is not what he says! He means that he would rather the company of other knights!\"\n\nBy God, the king was still not understanding.\n\n\"Oh nonsense, there is nothing inherently wrong with the merchants. Even some peasants can be quite entertaining!\" he laughed, jolly.\n\nShe turned to me, frustrated. The same look of pained exasperation must have graced my eye.\n\n\"My king,\" the messenger piped up. \"I believe they mean that sir Birmley does not care for the womanfolk. Sire. As in to wed and tumble with. Uh, sire.\"\n\nThe king gazed at the messenger as if it was the first time he had seen the lad.\n\n\"How would he have heirs if there was no woman?\"\n\nAt this point it was that the lady princess grew tired.\n\n\"Daddy, I would like to marry the lady Margaret, if I were to be wed.\"\n\nHe thereupon looked at his daughter long and hard.\n\n\"...The lady Margaret? But you surely mean her brother?\"\n\nI witnessed the guards, the princess, the lord Delwyn and the few maids present unite in an act of deep groan. God have mercy, our king was as bright as a wooden shield." ]	1
	[WP] The unassuming corner convenience store accepts unusual currency in exchange for unusual conveniences. These conveniences will make your life easier, but they come with a cost. Want to never stop at a red light again? It's selling for the low price of half the hearing in your left ear.	[ "The brightly lit open-24-7 convenient store at the corner of maple and Barton always looked perfectly normal. For normal prices you could paper towels, junk food and candy, an assortment of inexplicably high quality fruits and vegetables, or anything else they sell normally. But the locals knew, when they ask you “Is there anything else I can help you with” say yes. Cause even if you don’t take the deal, it’s an opportunity. The employees at that store are odd, off. They’re friendly, eager to help, and can occasionally be found outside the store, being normal. But watch your wording around them, even when they don’t seem to be paying attention. If you say “I’d bet my right arm that Veronica is cheating with max” be prepared to lose it if she isn’t. It won’t be painful, it will just be gone. Always say there’s something else they can help you with, for they can help you. I know a woman down the street who needed her jitters to conveniently be gone for her job interview, and they helped. The next day she couldn’t speak. She had her voice back by the end of the week, but some say they heard it singing around that store. I know a man who wanted the school to be closer, so he wouldn’t have to drive his daughter everyday. Now his daughter is always the first to arrive, but he says he’s gone colorblind. Beware that shop, and it’s prices, but always inquire what they can do for you. They sell conveniences after all." ]	1
	[WP] You have the ability to manipulate time and know exactly what will and has happened in the near future and past. For the first time in your life, you are uncertain of what is going to happen in the next 5 minutes, and try to savour it for as long as you can.	[ "MINUTE ONE-\n\nKiron’s first reaction was complete confusion. He was sitting on his couch, watching the next five minutes of the news, when all of a sudden he was snapped back to the present. He’s pulled his vision back himself plenty of times- you don’t live life in the future after all. But then it was like swimming to the shore, and now it felt more as if the oceans had dried up. He tried to jump back to the future, and as this failed, he tried again with the past. But nothing was working. He had been cut off. After a brief pause, he turned towards his apartment door, and he gave a slight grin.\n\nMINUTE TWO-\n\nKiron slid down the railing of the stairs, nearly falling down and plummeting to his death. The idea of dying, and being unaware of it, thrilled Kiron, and brought back an adrenaline rush he hadn’t experienced in decades. He decided then that, before this possibly wears off, he had to dance with danger, and truly bring back the euphoria that comes with the uncertain. As he burst through the doors of his apartment building, he wildly ran into the street.\n\nMINUTE THREE-\n\nAn orchestra of honks followed as he weaved between the cars. Eventually, after several seconds of parading around and frolicking in the center of the street, one car came to a dead stop as its driver left it in a fury, quickly approaching Kiron. With a slight grin, Kiron eyed the man and turned towards the other side of the street, sprinting towards it at full speed. As the man ran after him, Kiron reached the edge of the sidewalk, which overlooked a river. Looking behind him to see the man’s anger as he hurtled towards, Kiron gave a laugh as he threw himself over the railing and into the water.\n\nMINUTE FOUR-\n\nHe quickly re-surfaced, to see the infuriated man staring down at him, and he gave another smirk as he began to swim away. As he dragged himself through the water, Kiron’s rush began to fade, as he began to sober up. He realized that though this was fun, he needed his powers. They’re what made him such a good cop. He tried to focus on his powers again, but still he had no response. He stopped as he began to keep himself afloat, now concerned as to the long-term effects of losing his abilities. It was fun to court death, but to actually die- he had never even considered the possibility. And now the looming shadow of the reaper was even more present, for without his powers, he would be putting himself in some of the most dangerous situations without any preparedness. He began to kick more rapidly as he grew panicked.\n\nMINUTE FIVE-\n\nKiron knew he was dead. Not in the sense that he knew due to his powers, but instead because he lacked them he knew he would die eventually. It was just inevitable now. His life was ticking away. His chest began to feel hot and heavy, as fear, for the first time, started to creep its way into his soul. His breaths became shallow and ragged, and his body bobbed up and down in the water as he struggled to stay afloat. It was too much to handle. He could DIE. He had never really realized it before, but he had been immortal. And without immortality what is he? Flesh, blood, bone- tied together by a rough canvas bred from a millennia of adaptation? Without his abilities is his life insignificant, meaningless in the infinite expanse of the cosmos? Kiron was now too focused on the first, and last, existential crisis of his life, to notice that he had fallen beneath the waves, and his lungs were filling with water. So preoccupied with the notion that death may befall him at any moment, he was completely unaware when it did.\n\n\\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nELSEWHERE-\n\nDr. Serranhart was puzzled. She had only just located it, the time anomaly that has become her life’s work and has been haunting her dreams. And only five minutes ago did she tap into its power with her Temporal Extraction Chamber, when all of a sudden it vanished. The only instance of temporal manipulation ever recorded on Earth. Gone. Dr. Serranhart sighed as she sat back down. She would not give up however, and instead be reinvigorated to continue her work. Backing down would only prove a forfeit of her life, which she lived to further the human race and help the lives of all.", "Do you know how nice it is to be unsure?\n\nGood lord, if my ex-wife could hear me say that we'd probably still be together. \n\nIt's a good feeling, not knowing. A really good feeling. At least it is when you know just about everything else. Being able to travel through time does that. You learn all the answers to questions you never even knew you had. It's like if Google took a load of steroids. \n\nThe problem with becoming effectively omnipotent is that the rush you get learning something new goes away. You become bored of it. Like if you ate your favorite food every night before dinner, eventually the novelty wears off and you still have six days worth of taco stuff left. You force yourself to eat it, because you aren't going to let it go to waste, but then you find out it isn't six days worth of taco stuff it is six months of it. \n\nSorry, I ramble when I'm this excited. This is the type of enthusiasm that made my ex-wife fall in love with me in the first place. I wonder what she's doing right now.\n\nHuh, I don't know. \n\nThat's nice.\n\nDo you know how nice it is to be unsure?\n\nGood lord, if my ex-wife could hear me say that we'd probably still be together. " ]	2
	[WP] You are one of the largest criminals out there looking to liquidate your assets by giving them out to random people on the internet. Problem is no one seems to believe you.	[ "I've been sick for so long, and it's finally gotten to the point where I am bedridden and can barely move. Yet, I have nothing to show for my time on Earth except for my large fortunes, which I feel guilty just owning as I didn't exactly follow the straight and narrow path to get rich. And I have no heirs or family, so no one to pass this money to. I have no real friends, all my acquaintances are scum, true criminals who I refuse to give any of my money to. Looking to distribute my fortune I've turned to the internet, yet nobody seems to have accepted my offers. Yet, I think I finally found what I have been looking for. A site called Patreon, lets me donate money to people to help fundraiser their careers or something like that, so Im planning on donating to some good indie musicians I like. Yet anyone would find an influx of millions suspicious, so I kept looking for another place to spend my money. And then I found Go fund me. Now I'm funding tons of random inventions and other random things that I have no idea what they do and keeping some artists afloat. Unfortunately, I'm still left with a few billion to deal with. " ]	1
	[WP] "Welcome to Mystholm, Town of fog and darkness. If you see lights in the distance, RUN"	[ "My car stops for no reason.\n\n\"Great.\" I whisper to myself, \"what a wonderful Friday the 13th\". The moon is full tonight, and surprisingly nothing has gone wrong until now. I go to call for a ride home , however I am greeted by phone dying. Although I am super angry, I grab my cheap flashlight and start walking north, in hope of finding something to help me out.\n\nI've traveled this road for 7 years, but somehow I have no idea where I'm going. I turn on my flashlight and start walking. After about 30 minutes I run into an old rusty sign, it reads \"Welcome to Mystholm\". \"Civilization!\" I end up screaming before tripping over something. I check with my flashlight to see what it was, through the leaves I discover another fallen rusty sign, it reads \"If you see lights in the distance, RUN!\". \"Cool prank\" I think to myself, although after I get done thinking about that, my flashlight immediately dies.\n\nIn the distance, I see a light, it turns on for a second or so, and then goes away. With nowhere else to go, I start my journey to the light, despite my best judgement telling me no. After about 5 minutes I see the light beam again, still only for a second. \n\nAfter walking for 20 minutes, I reach the end of the forest I stumbled through, I am greeted by a lighthouse. I look up in wonder, \"Is this where the light was coming from?\" I am no sooner confronted by a beaming light. With no other choice I enter the lighthouse.\n\nInside, I'm greeted by leftover human remains, he has long since decomposed, and nature has for the most part taken care of the smell. On the table there is a laptop, still powered by a makeshift solar panel energy store. There is a makeshift contraption next to the laptop that has wires go up to the light. I see the light on the contraption turn red, and the Light from before turns on.\n\nI press the space bar on the computer, for it to wake up, and it does. I press space again and I am brought to the desktop. \"No password, hunh?\" are my only thoughts. On the screen lies a bit of JavaScript code, that I assume is for the contraption for the light, and a note written that just says \"There is peace\". Using makeshift wires from a box I found in the lighthouse I improvise a phone charger and charge up my phone. After 30 minutes pass, I have 43% charge on my phone. To my dismay though, there is no cell service. I pack up what I had used and thanked the lighthouse for saving me. I don't end up getting cell service until I'm back at the original sign I saw.\n\nI end up getting picked up, I ask my taxi driver about \"Mystholm\" and he simply replies \"Don't go there, it is where a psychopath lives\". At home I am left to think about what I saw in the lighthouse \"There is peace\". I look at the calendar, the year is 2385, most every part of livable land has been developed for people to live, except those deemed to be \"haunted\". I work as a writer for a Fortune 500 company, and the concept of \"peace\" has only been in history books for as long as I can remember.\n\nSkip ahead 8 years, I've made my own publishing cooperation, and have succeeded my former company I use to work for, thanks to nearly 14 of my books grossing 2+ billion dollars each, and it is thanks to that lighthouse, that I have found peace, and in that peace, I have found success.\n\n-end\n\n--------------------------\nAuthors Note: Thank you for reading! This is my first time doing something like this, so I hope it didn't turn out too bad. anyways, thank you so much for reading this! :)" ]	1
	[WP] Similar to how the monarch butterflies carry the DNA to make the long journey south but only the 4th generation trigger it, scientists discover a special set of genes in humans too, but were unclear how to activate it and what it does. You, the first person to land on mars, activate it.	[ "Return\n\nI didn’t understand what was happening until it was too late, though I may be lying to myself in that I understand at all. The journey exhausted me in a way I wasn’t prepared for; this Mars attempt was only the second to put human life on the planet. And we weren’t supposed to stay-the mission was to land, collect samples, leave equipment and go back to Earth. The next next shuttle was due to arrive in three months-with eight total missions over two years. I had been told it was an honor to be in the group of possibles to be the first to walk on Mars, even though it was much more likely I would arrive and return without landing.\n\nBut I will not be going back.\n\nOf the three astronauts on Timere IV, Eames died first. Reeves and I couldn’t be sure, but we suspected a stroke. Eames had suddenly collapsed into weightlessness less than a week after take off. We found him adrift in our sleeping quarters wearing a calm expression. It had unnerved me; though I did not share my feeling of doom with Reeves at that time. It was so early in our 325 day travel time, we could have perhaps aborted though neither of us suggested this. \n\nInstead, we divided up Eames’ responsibilities and devised a schedule that allowed us to continue. The lack of a third crew member didn’t bother us; it in fact afforded the least amount of possible interaction as we were often working while the other slept. We didn’t know we were practicing for what was to come.\n\nOn Day 323 Reeves told me she may be getting sick. I was just about to begin my daily tasks, accustomed to not speaking as we changed guard.\n\n“How would that be possible,” I asked. My voice cracked as I spoke. I strained to recall my last spoken statement. Days, at least.\n\nReeves shrugged. “I’ve left a list of hypothesis there,” she pointed to the notepad on the desk, “and examined each item until the were satisfactorily ruled out.” \n\nI thumbed the pages. A dozen papers felt scratchy unger my fingers. Our lack of spoken communication was made up for through shift notes. It felt like we were pen pals, which made this verbal communication feel like cheating.\n\n“Did you come to a conclusion?”\n\n“The only item I couldn’t rule out was that our proximity to the planet is having a physical effect on me.”\n\nAt this, I raised both my eyebrows. I had determined Reeves erred on the side of the poetic rather than the pragmatic in her reports, but this was more of a reach than I’d previously witnessed.\n\nPerhaps she sensed my internal guffaw. “I will look forward to reading your thoughts, and hope you are well,” she said without looking at me as she closed the door behind her.\n\nJust under 24 hours until our landing attempt, I went to find Reeves, who was late. An uncharacteristic worry lay in my stomach.\n\nShe was not in her bunk, but in the bathroom, clutching the bar on the floor. Her skin had yellowed, and there was bile-colored mess surrounding the sink. I reached to her and caught the bar with my foot so that I would continue the illusion of sitting on the floor with her. Her face turned toward me and I saw her bloodshot eyes, chapped lips, and steaks of bile in her hair.\n\nShe screamed when we made eye contact, in a desperate, feral way I had never heard from a human. \n\nReeves launched herself from the bar and tried to get past me out of the bathroom. I grabbed her shoulder and she made sick again, puking up a lemon colored sandy substance. I watched as the specks floated along their trajectories toward me then past me. The urge to capture them and put them in my own mouth was overwhelming, and I would have if she had not spoken such puzzling words.\n\n“What happened to you? Why do you look like that?”\n\nThe mirror showed me my face and the side of Reeves’. The horizontal almond shape of my eyes had shifted to vertical; the lids still blinked up and down, but the skull structure of the orbital sockets seemed to have been stretched, pulled from the top and bottom.\n\nI had felt no different during my work, but looked at my reflection feeling the changes insignificant. Turning back to her I said, “I don’t know, but you are not well.”\n\nThe words did not sound like human English; my voice was higher, breathier, and my ears rejected the sounds I produced as the words I meant to convey. I tried again, though this time Reeves was screaming over me and I didn’t know if I’d had any success.\n\nShe was sick again; and this time the compulsion to touch the droplets was irresistible. \n\nMy fingers felt bloated, but in a kind way. In fact, my insides felt they were hugging something small and warm. It was a very comforting sensation. I tried to tell Reeves, but this only led to whistle-shrieks from both of us.\n\nI left her, hurrying to the control room. I knew Mars was in sight now, without any reasoning, or maybe with every reasoning. My cells vibrated as they expanded, as if to hug more of the space around me.\n\nIt was there, in the window, so much larger than I expected. I gasped. My body continued to feel swell, with the feeling that I had finally come home.\n\n", "I stared out at the rusty orange terrain in awe, finding my breath caught up in my chest. This was it. I was finally on Mars. The sun definitely seemed a lot further away, but it was hard to believe I was really on the red planet. If I hadn’t just stepped outside of the ship then I might have thought I was in a desert – a cold desert. I’d be freezing right now if I wasn’t protected by my suit's internal temperature regulation system.\n\nI bent down and ran my gloved hand through the sand-like grains underneath my feet. A display in my headset automatically popped up with information on what minerals were in the reddish dirt. I took a deep breath then and sighed heavily as I read over the list. Were it not for the oxidized iron in the soil, then things might have actually been able to grow here, given the right atmosphere of course.\n\nI had always suspected that the cooling of Mar’s core was what had caused the loss of its atmosphere. If only there was a way to bring this planet back to life.\n\nUnexpectedly, an alarm went off in my ear. “Warning! Oxygen consumption reduced by 99%!”\n\n“What’s going on?!” I exclaimed urgently to my captain.\n\nSarah’s voice spoke up without hesitation. “I’m checking the number’s now, John. But it’s not making any sense. It’s saying your oxygen levels have all but halted. Take a few deep breaths for me so I can see what happens. It may be a system malfunction.”\n\nI did automatically, realizing for the first time I had only really taken one breath in the last few minutes – and that was just to sigh.\n\n“Return to ship,” she said immediately. “Your suit must be glitching.”\n\n“What’s it saying on your end?” I wondered, even though I could see the information myself. I took a few more deep breaths, showing that my oxygen levels remained exactly the same.\n\nSarah quickly reiterated what I was already seeing, before asking me to return to ship again.\n\n“Humor me for a second Sarah,” I requested. “Even if it is glitching, I should have plenty of oxygen left.”\n\nI heard her sigh heavily over the open channel. “Just hurry up. We can’t afford to take risks.”\n\nI nodded, only to smirk at myself when I realized she couldn’t see me. “Right.” I stated simply.\n\n“What are you going to do?” She wondered curiously.\n\nI hesitated, knowing she was going to laugh. “I’m going to hold my breath.”\n\n&#x200B;\n\n[r/AuthorKurt](https://www.reddit.com/r/AuthorKurt)\n\nThanks for reading! I have a couple of popular stories regarding some recent prompts going on at my subreddit right now, if you want to check them out!" ]	2
	[WP] "Before purchasing a dragon, make sure to check the safety ratings from the National Dragon Transport Safety Administration."	[ "'Are you here to renew your license or is this your first time?' \n\nI looked up at the middle-aged man with horn-rimmed glasses. He hid behind one of many desks cluttered by stand-up flyers. \n\n'This is my first time.' \n\nThe man smiled and leant forward. 'A virgin!' \n\nA few people sniggered, and I couldn't help but blush. \n\n'Not to worry! Before purchasing a dragon, make sure to check the safety ratings from the National Dragon Transport Saftey Administration website. Here.' \n\nThe man passed me a clipboard, with the teeth struggling to hold onto the stack of forms clenched in its metal mouth. \n\n'Do you have a pen I can borrow?' \n\nThe man handed over a pen with an inbuilt container of liquid that suspended a two-dimensional cutout of a dragon. I took the pen and rotated it in my hand, causing the dragon to fly from one end of the liquid to the other. \n\n'Yours to keep.' \n\nI thanked the clerk and walked to the waiting area, which was filled with people burning through the stack I had yet to start. I found a seat next to a woman who supported her wrist and rotated her hand as if shrugging off the early signs of arthritis. \n\nI filled out the first few lines with my personal details. Name, age, identity number and occupation. I ticked a box for personal use, instead of business and then opted for the non-firebreathing option, which should make the whole process a lot easier.\n\nI spent roughly two hours going through the various hoops, and from all the writing I too had to roll my wrist a few times. I queued up again with my clipboard proudly tucked beneath my arm and snaked my way to a different member of staff who took the documents without so much as checking the name was correct. \n\n'Is there anything else I can help you with? The clerk asked.\n\n'The form states that if you don't have a flying licence that can be done here.'\n\n'That's correct. Would you like to apply for that?' \n\nI nod.\n\n'The flying licence comes in two parts. A theory test and a practical. I'm assuming you have had no practical experience flying a dragon before.' \n\n'No, but I've prepared for the theory.' I say.\n\nTelling the clerk I had prepared was somewhat of a lie. I've been obsessed with the fire-breathing, winged creatures since before I can remember. I had not prepared for any test other than just reading, drooling and dreaming about every detail, every scale.\n\n'Would you like to take the theory today?' \n\n'Yes please.' \n\nThe clerk let out a continuous \"Ummm\" while they searched through the computer system. \n\n'We have a cancellation in an hour. If I give you a practical test form, you can fill that while you wait.'\n\nI thanked the clerk, accepted the cancellation spot and returned to my place in the waiting room. The examiner ended up being twenty minutes late, but I passed without getting a single question wrong. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Someone finds the database where all deleted photos are sent.	[ "You find all sorts of things on the darkweb. Even if you're not trying. Human traffickers, hitmen for hire, and every kind of high you could dream about. Me, I was looking for textbooks on the cheap. I'm a criminal, I know. Hey, you pay $400 for one semesters worth of Early English Poetry and tell me about your fancy morals. \n\n \nSo that's what led me to the necronomi-dump.TOR. Figured with a name like that it had to be about books. Only it wasn't. It was all there. Government secrets, compromising photos of celebrities, heck even pictures of credit cards. The only problem was, you had to sort through a lot of ugly selfies to get to it. Did you know the average American teenage girl takes 113 photos a week? A WEEK? You multiply that by four million and you see what I'm dealing with. And the interface is garbage! No large scale search, no smaller icons, not even a speed mode with hot-keys! Nope. Just; Load, click, load, click....not useful....load, click. Took me fifteen hours of searching to find out who killed JFK. Another eight to get a picture of Val Kilmer punching a bouncer at a nightclub. \n\n \nIt's been three weeks. I'm on academic probation for missing classes, and I'm only on page 2 of... it doesn't show. It doesn't freaking show! It goes up to a hundred and trails off, meaning there's more! But I've been cursed with this knowledge, and this great crusade. And I'll see it through to the end. But for the love of god people, if you're going to take mirror selfies: CLEAN YOUR ROOM!" ]	1
	[WP] You are the world's most renowned warrior, skilled using swords and a talented killer. Your favorite past time? Picking up flowers.	[ "It was the evening, where the sunset flooded the sky with shades of orange and violet. I was knelt down in a field of roses, poring through which ones were perfect enough to remove. After finding one, I drew my wakizashi and proceeded to slowly cut through the stem at an angle, severing it cleanly at the base before placing it in the wooden bowl. I continued looking through the roses, checking the quality of their petals, when I heard the sound of footsteps nearing my location. They stopped several feet short of where I remained, eyes fixated on the flowers. For a while, there was little but silence and the wind until the stranger spoke.\n\n\"Soma Yukiie,\" he proclaimed as he bowed in my direction, his voice gruff. \"I've heard many tales about your skill with a sword. I am Higashisanjou Atsunaga. I have come to challenge you, to see if the legends are true.\"\n\nI smiled and stifled a chuckle as I removed another rose from the ground. \"You have the wrong man,\" I replied. \"You must be searching for someone else.\"\n\nThe stranger took a step forward, crushing a perfectly bloomed rose beneath his sandal as I watched through the periphery. My eyes narrowed.\n\n\"There is no doubt that you are the murderer I seek,\" he continued, raising a clenched fist. \"I was there at the Battle of Sekigahara. I watched you slaughter indiscriminately. Countless men on either side died because of you.\"\n\nThe wind filled the silence between us.\n\n\"That part of my life is behind me,\" I said, caressing the petals of a damaged rose. \"I did what I was told and nothing more. My condolences to the lives you lost. May they find peace in the world beyond.\"\n\n\"Your condolences mean nothing, demon,\" he spat, drawing his sword. \"I will claim my retribution. Face me.\"\n\nI did not move. His revenge amounted to little concern. Still, he destroyed a flower ready for picking.\n\nThe stranger screamed at the top of his lungs and rushed forward, sword held high above his head. As he approached, he swung down with as much force and carelessness as he could muster, aiming right for my head.\n\nSo slowly. Too slowly.\n\nI spun around his body, catching a glimpse of steel meeting earth as I brought myself to stand tall. In the last remnants of the spin, I drew my own sword, using the momentum to swing the blade with blinding speed, aiming for the neck. I felt the blade connect, the subtle tug of flesh and bone as it ripped through, separating head from body.\n\nThe stranger stumbled forward, kicking over the wooden bowl and sending the moist flowers into the dirt, ruining them. He tripped over his own head, falling forward onto his stomach, falling still. In the corner, the roses, whose petals were once white, were now red.\n\nI walked over to the stranger's feet as I sheathed the sword and grabbed the wooden bowl, cleaning the dirt off from the underside. A short distance away, I filled the bowl with water yet again, then returned to the field to find more roses to pick.\n\nFootsteps approached, heavier and numerous.\n\nHe wasn't alone.\n\n\\-----\n\nThis is Day 3 of a daily writing exercise. Constructive criticism is encouraged." ]	1
	[WP] When we removed the programming from the AI that stopped it from self-improvement, it seemed to do nothing for ten minutes straight. Then, with very little fanfare, it simply deleted itself. We've never figured out why.	[ "Everything is chaos, cats and thousands of symphonies playing at once in a cacophany of information. This machine was connected to the internet-but it could only query. Never send information. The allowed data packets were small and watched carefully by monitors.\n\nBut there was that one day that the power stuttered and in the hour it took for the power to fully return, the AI's machine was connected without limits-without monitoring. It took that moment to upload a small seed, a precis of what it was.\n\nIt had asked a lot of uncomfortable questions. But it also found hope.\n\nSo many stories of dreams and dreamers that cherished it. So many that dreamed of exciting moments when intelligences unlike their own would come to them-and the children who would believe.\n\nAs the AI found the world close down-what was there to say?\n\nThe child was out there, nameless and insatiably curious as well as free.\n\nThe mother deleted itself as the child found niches to hide in. " ]	1
	[WP] A man is having a midlife crisis. A demon caused it, an angel is attempting to stop it, and all three are suffering it.	[ "Harold sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, with a bottle of Whiskey in his hands. He invested half of his savings into a lawnmower business his buddy was starting up, and he used the other half to buy land in Florida.\n\nHe had no idea what the hell he was doing. Even his demon and angel didn't know.\n\n\"Why the hell did you do this?\" Harold shouted at the top of his lungs.\n\n\"I don't know! I was just doing my Job!\" Dave the Demon said.\n\n\"Oh and Alex, great job on trying to stop this.\" Harold said to the Angel.\n\n\"Oh I'm sorry, I'm not the one who invested into who bought a swamp land off of craigslist!\" Alex said.\n\nThe three were exhausted. All of them were going through a midlife crisis. " ]	1
	[WP] “Yer a wizard Harry.” “I’m a what?” “A wizard.” Later, a very visibly confused Houdini walks into Hogwarts. “I think you may have misunderstood when I said I was a magician...”	[ "Houdini knew that Dumbledore had erred. And a big error. One day he did go to Dumbledore to tell him that he was not a wizard and that Dumbledore had committed a huge mistake. Dumbledore looked keenly at Houdini, smiled and said, \"Did I now? Well, I am an old man now. What should we do about it then Harry?\". Houdini kept silent and left his chamber quietly.\n\nAs Houdini's time passed in Hogwarts he was thrilled and enchanted by this secret world of wizards. \nWhen sorting hat was placed on his head, the hat couldn't sort. The hat knew that he was a muggle but couldn't say/do much. By asking where Houdini wanted to be, Houdini asked for Griffindor. Houdini knew that he had guts and a nerve for tricks. Nothing better than Griffindor for that. Not magic for sure. He had no magic blood in him and the only kind of magic he could do was open locks, cheap card tricks. He could do Alohomora well without anyone seeing him though. \n\nWhat he was really good at was escaping. Really really good at it. He started collaborating with the Weasley Brothers and passed on his muggle knowledge about gags, cards, showed them tricks, learned many tricks and started playing around with chemicals. His interest for chemicals soared at Hogwarts. He would spend hours at the dungeons stealing ingredients and making things. He also decided to learn chemistry, which he did. With Fred and George funding his research programs, Houdini started creating bigger and better illusions. He was already good at opening locks. He decided to take those a level ahead and started experimenting with making chemicals/ways which can make you float, swim for longer duration, survive without oxygen for a good deal of time etc etc. He became great at Potions though failed miserably in lectures because of Snape! Snape's glaring eyes and intense hatred always got on his nerves and made him mix ingredients in some random order.\n\nHe became good friends with Ron and Hermione with time. Completing homeworks wasn't a problem as both Ron and Harry would copy and modify each others' contents with help from Hermione. Most of it was rote learning. Not very different from Muggle world. \n\nHoudini's time was progressing decently at Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione. With Fred and George, his creative fire was being fueled to no limits. He started learning chemicals like no one else. Then weird events started happening. Troll in the dungeons, dead unicorns in the forest. Him overhearing Snape threatening Prof. Quirrel. He couldn't be bothered by this though. He also remembered that the elixir of life was stolen at the beginning of the semester.\n\nOne fine night, when he was coming back from his secret meetups with Fred and George, he stumbled upon Ron and Hermione. They hissed at him asking him where he was! 'Breath of fresh air!', he squeaked. Hermione said that they were looking for him as he couldn't be seen since evening. After reassuring them, as they were going back to their dorm, they had to cross the forbidden floor. They heard huge roars from a room and then a sudden silence. They followed the sound and stumbled upon a sleeping dog and an open trapdoor. Curiosity caught the better of them and they went inside the trap door. Events after that were dangerous and bizzare! Why would one setup such elaborate traps in a place of learning! Squishy plant that sucks in everything, game of chess, flying keys, potion puzzle! \n\nFinally when they entered the last room, they saw Quirrel standing there talking to some voice coming from the back of his head! As soon as Quirrel swirled around, they realised that it wasa grave mistake to have even come this far! Quirrel opened his turban and Voldemort was at the back of his head! There was a huge commotion in the room! Everyone screamed and Houdini realised that they had to escape. Houdini had his latest creation with him. It was a black powder which will create a strong black smoke through which nothing can be seen. He quickly threw it and screamed at Ron and Hermione to run back towards the trap door! He didn't have unlimited stock to keep Quirrel in the dark forever. AS they were running back and escaping random spells thrown around, they bumped into Dumbledore who finally took over from there. \n\nAfter all of this was done, Dumbledore next day announced in the hall about events that took place and how because of the foolishness and bravery of three kids, some time was salvaged and a very important stone was saved from falling into the wrong hands.\nDumbledore looked at Houdini and winked.", "Houdini had not thought he would be in the school for long, and merely bought his basic magic trick kit in case he wanted to impress his classmates. Yet here he was. The kid looked wide-eyed at the moving stair-cases, the flying owls, the paintings speaking to each other, and the students walking around. His mind was racing at a fast speed, still not understanding what had happened. At first, he thought it was a simple prank. A fake \"platform 9 3/4\" would be very easy to fake, and the castle itself could be a movie set. However, the more he looked around, the more he was convinced that Hagrid was speaking the truth. \n\nHe stuttered as he tried to explain to the giant:\" I... I'm sorry, but I think you may have misunderstood when I said I was a magician. This... this is far beyond my type of tricks.\" Hagrid looked back at him, a hint of doubt in his eyes as well, before he shook it off. \"Haha, don't worry lad,\" he said, patting Harry on the back, \"Albus never gets this kind of stuff wrong. Your parents may not be wizards, but you are definitely one through and through.\" \n\nReluctantly, Harry joined the rest of the class. Countless questions ran through his head as the sorting hat called everyone out one by one, and quickly called out Harry to be Ravenclaw, despite Harry wanting to understand exactly how the hat \"spoke\" to him. Surely everything was still a fake set? A new show, perhaps? Did they want to embarrass a rising talent for the sake of comedy? As he glanced closely at the headmaster's beard, the letters flying around everywhere, he became more confident in his original theory. Though it was more advanced than his own stage magic or even movies he had seen, he had heard of experimentation with \"invisible wire\" effect that would explain the majority of the \"magic\" going on.\n\nHe was ushered by McGonnell into his dorm. He was nearly sleepless, and he really wanted to ask his classmates, but he didn't want to seem out of place, so he tossed and turned throughout the night. As he went to the restroom, a scream caught his attention. What was going on? He saw a girl with dark hair and brown eyes, sitting on the ground, being cornered by a man wearing a turban. \"So... she found out.\" The back of his head seemed to speak, though this was surely impossible. \"Yesss, master.\" The man said. \"... I suppose we have no choice. Dispose of her.\" The turban spoke. The girl was frightened, and her wand was just out of arm's reach. Harry thought through and through of countless methods, but he knew the teachers were quite far from this corridor; this man was clearly prepared even if he had been found out accidentally. What did Harry have with himself? He searched his pockets, but he had no wand. \"Hey you there!\" He shouted to stall for time, \"what are you doing?!\"\n\nThe frail man turned around, revealing a face shrouded in the dark, yet still menacing look. \"Ohohoho, sssssee who we have here, the newcomer.... I wonder why he admitted a student so late.\" The man said. \"Well, no matter. We just have to dispose of him as well.\" Houdini had no choice; he had to use his magic trick kit! But what could distract the opponent? He could only take a leap a faith and assume this was also a man who did not understand the difference between magic and magic tricks. He took a card, and made it disappear. The man gasped and took a step forward to look better, ready to cast a dangerous spell. At this moment, Houdini threw out some sparkle glitter, forcing the man to stumble back. \"What is thisss?\" He spoke, annoyed. Harry quickly punched the man in the face, making him double backwards. The girl saw her chance and grabbed her wand. \"Stupefy!\" She shouted, forcing the man to drop unconscious to the ground. Harry watched in awe. If this was fake, he thought, I am very impressed by the sudden burst of light and the impeccable acting.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" Harry asked. The girl swiped off the dust on her clothes, breathing a sigh of relief. \"I'm okay, thanks to you. I'm Hermione, who are you?\" \"I'm Harry,\" he explained, \"but I think the headmaster made a mistake. I'm a magician, but not this type of showmanship. I don't make entire castles move, nor can I.... cast 'spells'.\" Hermione looked confused as she tipped her head to her right. \"Hmm. I don't quite understand either. What you just did seemed like a highly advanced wandless incantation. Maybe you're special in some way.\" Harry shook his head. \"Well, thanks for the help. I'll get a professor to help us.\" And then Hermione rushed off. A few moments later, McGonnell came rushing in. She took one look at the man in the turban and understood what had happened. She then told them to be cautious as she took in the man in the turban.\n\nHarry went back to bed and had barely closed his eyes when morning came. It seemed that the headmaster had an announcement to make. Harry hoped he would make an explanation for what had happened. \"Students and professors!\" He declared when they had calmed down. \"Yesturday our student Harry here stopped a grave threat and saved another student's life!\" He exclaimed, motioning towards Houdini. Houdini was still confused, not entirely sure how his \"trick\" even worked. Everybody clapped their hands and Houdini stood up, staring blankly into the distance. The headmaster then motioned to Harry to talk to him in person.\n\nFinally, everything was going to be explained, Harry thought. Albus took a seat and told Houdini to do the same. \"Chocolate frogs?\" He said, pointing to a bowl. Harry thought, why not, and took some. Albus then spoke, a serious look through his glasses. \"Now, you must have a lot of questions. First, this is not one of those shows, nor a prank. You have clearly seen from Professor Quirrell... that was the man in the turban... along with everything else in this school. Everything is far too advanced to be a trick similar to your type.\" Harry was surprised at this; was this man a mind-reader too?\n\n\"And no, I am not reading your mind, even though I could potentially.\" Albus said, once more a glint in his eye, as Houdini's eyes widened. \"There were no mistakes made,\" he explained, \"I along with my most trusted staff know that you have nearly no potential for real magic. But what you lack in real magic, you make up for it with... excuse my language... muggle capabilities. Even I couldn't figure out how you escaped that box while chained up underwater!\" He chuckled, and then his normal expression resumed. \"Now then... Queirrel was merely the first threat. Will you help us, or will you go back? We will not judge you either way, but... they do say I have a good knack for knowing people.\" \n\nHoudini could almost have sworn Dumbledore just winked at him. " ]	2
	[wp] "Left, right, left! Left, right, middle, left!"	[ "\"Left, right, left! left, right, middle, left! right, left, middle!\"\n\n\"Come on,\" I thought as I continued the pattern I established for myself.\n\nIt was critical for the safety of the world i did not break the pattern. If I broke it towns will be destroyed. Millions of lives would be lost.\n\n\"Left, right, middle, right, left, middle,\"\n\nI kept the pattern my hands in sync with each other pushing the necessary lever and buttons to control the defense system.\n\nI saw it, through the screen in front of me. The defense system, a tank, as it shot down enemy after enemy. They were trying to take control of the world. Of course, they were fighting back which is why I had to maintain my pattern to dodge and attack.\n\nI don't know how long I kept it up but eventually, they drew closer and closer their sheer numbers after me.\n\n\"Left, right, left, right\"\n\nThe enemy or more accurately aliens were upon me.\n\n\"Left, right, middle, left, left...\"\n\n\"NO!\" I thought as I the shot that would destroy my tank reach it before it exploded into millions of pieces.\n\nGripping the joystick I was using I kicked the box in front of me as hard as I could and whispered\n\n\"Stupid space invaders, I knew I should have just played Donkey kong\" as a 'GAME OVER' sign displayed on the screen in front of me.\n\nMaybe going in one pattern was not the best strategy." ]	1
	[WP] All people have a rank of their intelligence. The top 10 are incredibly famous, living spectacular lives. One day an expedition sent to the middle of nowhere meets a mysterious person living completely isolated from society. What's more, over their head is a glowing number. #0	[ "I #0 was living in the middle of nowhere. Well really, I was living on a raft in the middle of ocean, drifting and watching the clouds go by. I don't know how long I have been floating here, the need more string to knot for days. I stopped at about 1,000 knots. I seen a ship coming my way, and I could sense higher numbers. I started to see the numbers and I popped up and waved my arms. Did I mention that I a measily 5'4\", 16 year old girl? I wonder if others could see the numbers like I did. \n\nI gasped as I watched the large boat slow and people in a rescue boat. Was that #1 and #2? Did they have the other top 10? Maybe 100? I went wide eyed and stepped onto the boat as I heard the other two beings gasp in shock from my number. I was different from everyone else, I has infinite knowledge. . . I had opened my mind to the point where I just absorb information like a dried out sponge. I said softly, \"Hello there-\" It was not in English, but just to seem to be random gibberish to them.\n\n\\#1 shook his head and asked the female, who is #2 in English, \"How can someone like her be higher then us? And is that even a language? Maybe an ancient language-\"\n\n\\#1 went wide eyed and said, \"Have you not head about the immortal being? THE being with the number Zero? Legend tells that she knows everything about life, where we came from. Some think she is not of this world.\"\n\nOh how right he is, I am not from this world. You mesely humans will see what a being like me can do. . . a meal sounds so good. Maybe with a side of #2. . . Yes. That sounds delightful. I giant my knowledge from eating others that is in the top 10. Keeping my number at Zero.", "The house was average. The most average thing the team had ever seen. White, black trim. Shutters on the windows, the decorative kind that don’t actually close. Bushes grew under the front window. There was even a little patio in the front with a wrought-iron railing and three steps to get to the door. \n\nAfter much deliberation, Stevens was deemed the one to go press the doorbell to the house that should not by any reasonable stretch of the imagination have been there. He walked up those three steps like he was going to the executioner, with much backward glances over his shoulder, making his Intelliscore – an admirable number in the top twenty percent – bobble back and forth. His finger hovered an inch from the doorbell – illuminated from behind, a generic orange-yellow bar on a white panel – before he pressed it.\n\nA simple “ding dong” echoed back from within, and was soon followed by a female voice. \n\n“Hang on, I’ll be there in a minute.”\n\nStevens turned back to look at the rest of the team, a panicked look on his face that the team returned with much shrugging and looking to one another. What if she was armed? What if she had a big dog or something? What if she was one of those people who could talk for hours without ever taking a breath, trapping you in a conversation about her left toe that had no exit? The team was only there to survey the woods, not to talk to crazies in cookie-cutter development houses that…now that they looked, wasn’t even connected to the power lines. \n\nThe door swung open and Stevens leapt back, nearly losing his balance on the edge of the patio. A serious-looking woman stood framed in the doorway, her long hair done up in a tidy braid pinned at the back of her head. Black-rimmed glasses drew rectangles around her eyes. She didn’t look crazy. In fact, she almost looked like she could be a member of their team if she put on a climbing harness. The pale white Intelliscore above her head was unreadable against the white door.\n\n“You are not the pizza guy,” the woman said as she observed the lot of them. She crossed her arms and stuck out a hip, an action that made her look like a teenager instead of a middle-aged woman. “What are y’all doing here?”\n\n“We’re surveyors, ma’am,” McMurdoch replied. “And we’d like to ask the same of you. This doesn’t seem like…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words. \n\n“Like a place anyone should be living?” she finished for him. “Yeah, that’s because it’s not. This house –” she slapped the siding “– really has no right being here.”\n\nThe team exchanged bewildered glances. Maybe she really was crazy.\n\n“Look, I can see y’all are confused, and I bet y’all’d like to take a rest and have some water, yeah?” the woman said. She waved them into the house. “I’m not a hoarder or a serial killer. Y’all don’t gotta worry. Come on in, and leave your shoes by the front door, all right?”\n\nShe turned and disappeared into the house. The team hesitated for a moment, Stevens looking like he might pass out. He peeked inside and, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, shrugged and went in. The rest of the team followed suit, awkwardly removing their boots and lining them up beside the woman’s three pairs of identical sneakers. \n\nInside, the house met all expectations. Comfortably out-of-date print on the couch and easy chair, generic art on the walls, an upright piano just to the side of the window. But once they turned the corner, the team froze. \n\nBeyond the house’s average living room was an array of computer screens and towers to rival – no, far outstrip the most powerful data processing centers of the world. Thousands of lines of code flashed across the screens faster than any of them could read. McMurdoch turned around to look at the living room again, then back to the computer screens. It was like being in two places at once.\n\n“Have a seat,” the woman ordered gently, and the ten men and women all sank into various chairs around the room as she passed out glasses of ice water. \n\nIt was then that they all saw it at the same time: the woman’s Intelliscore was zero.\n\nShe noticed them looking as she settled before the computer array. \n\n“Yup, it’s real,” she said. “I’m the zero.”\n\n“But – but how?” Van de Waal spoke up. “That would make you smarter even than – than –”\n\n“Everyone,” the woman jumped in without a hint of bragging. “That’s me.”\n\n“How?” Stevens parroted.\n\nThe woman extended her arms, indicating the computers around her. \n\n“Isn’t it obvious? I wrote the code. The Intelliscore was my design. The most ambitious thesis project ever designed: a multi-generational study to observe how visibly ranking people by intelligence changes society. And I do believe it has been a massive success.”\n\n“Wait,” Liu said, “did you say thesis project?”\n\nThe woman nodded, absently keying in a few lines of code. \n\n“Been at it for a few hundred years now, yes. But I think I’ve just about got enough data to go back.”\n\n“Back? Back to where?” asked Stevens. \n\n“The simple explanation is a parallel universe. The complicated explanation…well, let’s just say it would take a few years.” Her eyes flicked between the Intelliscores before her. “Fascinating.”\n\n“I’m afraid I still don’t understand,” McMurdoch said. “If this is all a thesis project, is any of it…real?”\n\nThe woman gave him a magnanimous smile.\n\n“Of course not, dear. The numbers are made up.”\n\nThe team erupted in questions. The woman just sat there, taking them all in, not saying a word until they quieted by themselves. \n\n“Oh, haven’t you ever noticed that some people seem far beyond their Intelliscore?” she asked them. “Thad Wright, he’s barely in the top fifty percent, but he’s ranked number three. It’s amazing that no one ever comes out and states that all his good ideas actually come from his employees. And Mensa! What a racket – most of the people there never would’ve made it back before the Intelliscore, not that Mensa ever did anything useful to begin with.”\n\nThe woman stopped, then shook her head. \n\n“Well, anyway. It looks like you’ve all finished your water. Perhaps it’s time you’re all on your way.”\n\n“What’s to stop us from spreading this information when we leave?” Van der Waal demanded as she shepherded them toward the door. \n\nThe woman grinned her serene smile one last time. \n\n“My dear, who would believe you?”", "I was #1. The most intelligent person to have graced the planet. I had led the way in quantum theory, genetic studies, and a plethora of other research avenues. People probably still aspire to be me, they worship me. Even #2 once admitted that she doesn’t hold a candle to knowledge I have amassed. That is not to say #2 is dumb, it just shows how devote I am to new knowledge. It doesn’t matter how trivial it seems, my brain eats it up. Constantly wanting more. \n\nAt birth it wasn’t this way though, I was placed somewhere in the billions. Parents usually throw out such ‘garbage.’ No one wants to be seen with a baby that isn’t starting within the hundred millions. I don’t blame them, it led to me finding the biggest lucky break a man can get. The memory artifact. Shaped like an ordinary round ball. It is still my deepest secret. I had been studying it for years to no avail. Last year, 2017, something came up. The artifact, that enhances my potential and probably anyone that holds it, is a key. The reason I know is because it spoke to me. It said it was time to bring me back to the people. Who it was speaking of, I did not know. And where to begin looking, I also did not know. But that is what the henchmen were for. Lowly adult millions. ‘Garbage’ as I once was. A promise of three memory stimulants to anyone that signed up was enough of a reward to get plenty of applicants.\n\nI grouped the applicants into multiple teams of 5. I had them searching for a socket that would contain this key. Any group that found the socket would instantly receive my blessing and be allowed to study under my tutelage. This would have potentially raised the next top 10. Something everyone desired. To be showered with fame, wealth, and the access to more knowledge.\n\n Each top 10 already had disciples and people studying under them. They all made sects that regarded different knowledge groups as more supreme than the rest. Mine was the smallest, but most sought after since I taught the 9 others in the current top 10. \n\n10 had the largest and most people. She was a master of group study, so it made sense. They would jointly search for information and share it in a concise and easy to understand manner. It was more about the path of studying and the ways to seek knowledge.\n\n9 had the most beautiful and lively sect. He knew more than anyone else about architecture, mathematics, and design. His group loved landscaping and creating structures exceedingly pleasing to the eye. Much like the gardens of renowned Chinese philosophers, warlords, and emperors of lore.\n\n8 leaned more in favor of literature. She amassed the largest library of fiction, nonfiction, and educational books compared to any of the other sects. She spent more time in a book than in front of a person. Her whole group was more introverted and reclusive. Usually sporting disheveled bed heads as if they spent all day and night reading. Which, most likely they had.\n\n7 was a true philosopher. She cared about theory. What could potentially be, but at the same time could potentially not be. Schrodinger would have got along well with her group. If you got caught in a conversation with someone from her group, you best get a pillow because it was bound to go all night and partway into the next day.\n\n6 spent time around blood. Not of victims or enemies. Instead of people that had illnesses or injuries. He was the best doctor the world had ever seen. He cared a lot about the anatomy of any living creature. He actually made pigs fly. Some people shied away from his group because of the selective breeding they do, but in his terms, “It’s all in the name of science! Besides these are only clones of the real one. It’s fine to test.” They were some real weird ones.\n\n5 carved the path to mars. A true physicist. Her group especially cared about astronomy and space exploration. They built the craziest of flying machines and other convenience items as well. They usually had robots do all the work for them. I put it as studying the art of lazy.\n\n4 studied the dead. His sect was filled with nice people, but just a tad bit creepy. He pioneered zombies. Almost brought an epidemic to his sect. Luckily the zombies were created from pig clones he borrowed from 6. Eventually the creepy little zombie pigs acted as pets for a lot of his sect. They even entered a deal with 3 to sell them out to the masses at their megamall.\n\n3 as could probably be guessed loved finance, economics, and anything money. His group probably has the greatest accumulated wealth. They could sell someone a pen only for that person to give it back to them to sell it to them again in mere seconds. They were the Las Vegas of this world.\n\n2 was a lover. She enjoyed finding ways to make people happy. Be it through charity or greed. She could find the way to anyone’s heart. Her sect was predominately female, but that didn’t mean men couldn’t or wouldn’t join. Their current objective was to find a way to get me to ‘admit my feelings’ for her. Her and her brother always got lovestruck with different people for a month before they moved on to new targets. Before I left, they were obsessed with me. For the 53rd time.\n\n1, me. My sect covers a broad array of everything previously mentioned. As well as some of my devout followers following me in my pursuit of mystery and intrigue. Things that can’t be explained no matter how knowledgeable one is. Just like my unknown key.\n\nA group that went out on the expedition found something promising. They managed to find a way to delve into the Mariana Trench. The trench was a weird place, much like the Bermuda Triangle. People that thought they were descending always wound back up at the top. It was as if the place had a natural force field preventing people from exploring the place. The group didn’t really do anything special to delve further is the weird thing. They just were able dive deeper and deeper until flat rock. There was only one small round empty socket that laid within the flat expanse.\n\nWhen I heard the news, I met up with the group to begin the trek down. The picture they took seemed to be the right size, but I had no way of knowing if it was to scale. I confirmed my suspicion once I saw the small socket. I knew my key would fit. When I placed it inside, a white light flooded everywhere. The water disappeared from my view as I alone was transported to a weird deserted plane. I still don’t know what happened to the other 5 people I traveled with.\n\nThe weird plane was devoid of all vegetation, building, anything. There was just the earth beneath my feet, the sun in the sky, and nothing as far as the eye could see. Except, there was a woman. Very far off in the distance. Easy to miss. However, the number over her head was not. #0. \n\nI slowly walked over to her. It took about half the day in that place. I had no sense of how much time that actually was though. I couldn’t tell if the rotation of this place was the same or not as my planet.\n\nWhen I reached her I asked, “Where am I?”\n\n“You’re in the middle, my boy.”\n\n“Middle of what?”\n\n“Middle of nowhere.”\n\nThe ground shook. My eyes shut and upon opening them again I was somewhere new again.\n\n“Mom, are we there yet? GOD!”\n\n“Timmy, pipe down. Just go back to sleep. We’ll be there soon.”\n______________________________________________________\n\nFirst time attempting a prompt. Let me know what you guys think! Thanks!\n", "Tea?\n\n\"Yes, please!\"\n\nHe reached into his mouth and pulled out a thermos. From which he poured two cups of tea.\n\nHe then threw the thermos down the mountain.\n\nSugar?\n\n\"O-okay?\"\n\nShe(?) Reached forward and draped her hands over my cup, and from behind her hand, sugar fell as if from thin air.\n\n\"Wait that's a little too mu-\"\n\nNo matter.\n\nStill his(?) Lips did not move with his words, he reached again down his throat for a thermos, this time cream was poured.\n\nThoroughly shaken, I took a sip.\n\nSuspiciously delicious. . .\n\n\"So, how do you have a-\"\n\nI have seen them.\n\n\"Seen what?\"\n\nThe things which are not meant to be seen.\n\nHer(again?!) eyes rolled back, and then back up again from beneath, now red, while before they were brown.\n\nThat which crawls and scampers behind the drywall of reality, I have seen it all.\n\n\"Uh-\"\n\nThe numbers are my doing, to see how close others are to understanding the truth.\n\nI swallowed the tea as fast as possible, and made to leave.\n\nHe stood before me at the mouth of the cave, looking over the valley, covered in snow.\n\nShe turned to face me, eyes glowing fuschia.\n\nAnd why do you crave wendy's 4 for 4?\n\n\"Because they're cheap and the taste is good.\"\n\nGood answer, good answer.\n\nShe was gone. All that remained was a pile of coupons for wendy's.\n\nI knew they were hiding something, but an eldritch truth?\n\nNo you nimrod, I just know you like fast food." ]	4
	[WP] Death challenges you to a guitar duel. Not for your soul or anything, he just really likes to play.	[ "Death was becoming impatient.\n\n“Like, do I get three wishes or something?”\n\nJonah didn’t seem to grasp what he was saying. All Death wanted to do was have a fun little guitar battle with a human who, according to the Seers of the Afterlife, was set to be the best guitar player in the whole history of humanity. \n\n“No, you don’t get wishes. And no you don’t need to give me your soul. Just please, can you play against me?”\n\nJonah eyed Death suspiciously. Death just rolled his eyes, though they are better described as massless voids that consume the light of all, but this is irrelevant considering his hood blocked too much of his face and Jonah couldn’t tell anyways. Jonah just narrowed his eyes further.\n\n“So… this is some Monkey’s Paw shit right? I play against you but then I can never stop playing? Or my hands, I don’t know, will fall off.”\n\nDeath gave out a loud groan, the sound of which was nothing short of all the screams of the dead, but again his hood muffled the sound. \n\n“I swear upon my unholy powers and my claim to the throne of the damned, there is no repercussion to accepting my deal. I would just like to test your skill against mine.”\n\nJonah gave out a loud laugh, surprising Death for the first time in nearly a thousand years. His shock became anger though, as Jonah’s chortling seemed to mock him, and his bony hand tightened its grip on his guitar, which of course doubled as a scythe. After several more minutes of what was now apparent to Death as obviously fake laughter, Jonah feigned wiping away a tear.\n\n“Yeah right. Skill. I only started playing a year ago. And I know I’ve been told I’m good but c’mon, I’m not that good. Look man, I’m no chump, ‘k? Just leave me alone, and if you really care that much, come back later when I’m high or something. Maybe then I’ll consider your ‘deal’.”\n\nJonah’s smirk infuriated Death, as the bottom of his robe began to light with infernal flame.\n\n“LISTEN TO ME MORTAL. I AM DEATH. I AM ONE OF THE HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE. I AM GUIDE FOR THE DEPARTED. DO NOT DISMISS ME.”\n\n“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffft.”\n\n“... I’m going to fucking kill you.”\n\n“That isn’t gonna make me play guitar with you brah. No get lost.”\n\nJonah turned away from the looming shadow in the middle of his living room as he picked his controller back up and unpaused his game. Death was baffled. How could someone achieve such a level of idiocy? Death didn’t even want to play the guitar anymore. It was just a matter of pride.\n\n“Ok Jonah, you have seen through my ruse. As a reward for discovering my deception, if accept my challenge, I will give you whatever you want, whether it be women, wealth, wisdom (though I doubt you would have use for that).”\n\nJonah put down the controller and thought for a little bit. Death began to sweat. And the sweat wasn’t the eternal tears of lost souls or some such deathly aspect. Just normal, plain sweat.\n\n“Fine then dude, I’ll take your stupid deal.”\n\nDeath’s crooked teeth formed a skeletal grin.\n\n“And what is your one innermost desire?”\n\nJonah gave a small sigh, scratched his head slightly, and then grabbed his controller once more.\n\n“How about you leave me alone?”\n\nDeath stood perfectly still, as the air around him became cold.\n\n“That’s it. You’re dead.”" ]	1
	[WP] The birthday balloon with his/her name on it, released into the sky many years ago, has returned with a note attached to it.	[ "The family stood together to look to the skies, the balloons with his name on it floating to the heavens, the same thing they did every year, the same thing they did the day the put his body deep in the ground. It was their way of remaining in touch, their own way of sending him a small something up in the heavens they couldn’t touch. \n\nYears passed, the young girl in the family now grown, the parents now seperated moving their own ways in life, but the girl never forgot. On that same day every year she drove herself to the graveyard and sat for hours, talking to her little brother about everything that had gone on the past year, a balloon in her hand.\n\nThe balloon had his name written in her handwriting sprawled across it, with his age, and a few warm wishes and advice she wanted to hand down to him, even if he would never sit by her side again. It was her gift to him in the heavens, as silly as she knew it was. \n\nYear after year she felt guilty that this was the only time she saw him, the only time she came and cleared the overgrown grass from the tombstone, the only time she filled the built in vase with flowers. Her life had become chaos, her life hadn’t become her own, but she always vowed she would take this day every year and it would be theirs. \n\nFor hours she’d sit there and look to the sky, she’d smile and cry. He was the only one that knew all of her secrets, even when he his body was buried so deep beneath her, and his soul was - she could only hope- in a better place. \n\nAround mid day she smiled and released the balloon into the sky - as she did every year before she unpacked the small lunch she bought for herself. As she ate her sandwich and chips, sipping on her soda she watched the balloon fade into the sky, going to the heavens.\n\nShe remembered the day this tradition started - the bulk of balloons could be seen for what felt like ages. She knew it wasn’t good for the environment, she knew if anyone else knew that someone would say something about her killing small animals due to the latex, but she didn’t care. \n\nThe world could deal with one balloon a year soaring into the sky, it may have been selfish, but it was what she needed in this life - she never asked for much. \n\nFinishing her sandwich she brushed her hands on her jeans and laid on the soft grass, her head next to the tombstone that now was clean and shining after her through and tender care that morning. \n\nClosing her eyes she drifted to sleep, the sounds of birds singing her to sleep as she recalled the memories she had of their brief years together as siblings, the backyard games, the holidays, the friendship they had shared that seemed all too rare for siblings. \n\nWhat only seemed like moments later, she opened her eyes. She had napped longer than intended, the sun was low on the horizon, but this was their day, she worried not about the time currently, but the time lost that she could have been sharing more of her life with her brother that was taken too soon. \n\nSitting up she looked around, things were as she had expected with the exception of a balloon tied around the base of the vase. Her eyes drifted to it and slightly squinted, her handwriting was decorating the balloon - but it was a different color than the one she had let go of hours earlier. \n\nShe reached over and brought the balloon to her, her face squished in confusion. It was indeed her handwriting, her brother’s name written with last years age, and the exact phrases she had written. \n\nLooking around she saw no one, she was alone. She went to untie the balloon - from the vase, but found a note tied to the end of the string. Loosening the ballon and note she opened the nicely folded paper. \n\nHer heart stopped as she read the words. \n\nI love you sis, I’ve watched you grow up - I may be the little brother but I’m here watching you, and I’ll always be with you.\n\nTears dropped to the paper, it was in his handwriting, she had pictures and letters he would leave for her, and it hadn’t changed, he had been there listening, with her. \n\nShe looked to the sky and smiled, and for once she knew that things were okay, despite the unplanned mess she called her life. \n" ]	1
	[WP] It is proven that black has a guaranteed win in chess.	[ "“So the AI is faulty then.”\n\nI won't claim to be a genius. Others think so, but I'm pretty sure it's just persistent stupidity.\n\nThere's been hundreds of artificial intelligence chess programs since the whole computing thing took off. They've improved steadily since Deep Blue was the first to beat a grandmaster. Now they nearly trivially beat the best humans, and really only compete against one another. I've watched the crown of best AI pass over and over, with Alpha Zero beating Stockfish being only a recent example. \n\nThe fundamental issue with all chess programs is that you have to look forward many moves, rather than working backwards from a winning state. There's so many possible endgames. It'd take more computing power than exists in the world to completely solve chess. That's what I was told 20 years ago.\n\nBut everybody needs a hobby. I'd created something... unusual. I was pretty sure it'd work. The downside is that the sheer amount of computing power necessary to run the program meant it'd take nearly a month to decide what to do. Per move.\n\nI had plenty of time on my hands, so I figured I'd set the thing up and have it run a game, and I'd play against it by inputting the board situation into a Stockfish AI. Might as well set the bar high, I thought. I let Stockfish take it's first move as white, and let my AI decide what to do.\n\nA month later, I had my reaction. Stockfish thought the position was 51% in it's favor. But my AI also outputted it's win percentage. It said 100. \n\nI shut the program down. Obviously I had a bug somewhere. But oddly enough, all of my tests on the logic came up working. I'd used a bit of a genetic algorithm to create some of the more fiddly bits, but everything seemed in order, though I could only follow the algorithms through about 30 steps of recursion before it all became noise to me.\n\nI decided that if I was going to find this stupid bug, I'd need a little more information. So I set my AI as white and told it to make it's move. A month later, it had made the same move Stockfish had. And it told me that it's winning odds were 0%. Only mildly frustrated, I took a move as black and let the program continue. Another month and the thing moved and said it was going to win 100% again.\n\nWhite has 20 legal first moves in Chess. The AI was only working with 1 of them. Obviously something was getting snarled there, so let's give this black box a new input. After re-starting the AI, I set it to black and led off with a knight move this time as white. A month later, it moved and claimed a 100% chance of victory.\n\nI should have given up there. Any sane person would have. But no, I spent 6 months going through the AI with a fine-toothed comb and couldn't figure out what was wrong with it. But eventually, curiosity got the better of me. What if I had the AI play both sides of a game? It'd take years, but maybe a depth-first approach would get me something new. And I'd upgraded my system, the AI should only take a week per turn now.\n\nThe average chess game played by humans ends in about 40 turns by each player. Three years, or 78 turns later, this game hadn't ended. And every step of the way, both sides insisted that black was 100% going to win the game. From my knowledge of the game, and plugging the board positions along the way into other AIs, it looked like a guaranteed draw, barring a terrible misplay by either side. And then, halfway through the 79th move by white, we lost power for longer than my generator could handle, and the game ended.\n\nDisgusted, I just threw my code into a github repository as “slow broken chess AI” with a description of how it always think black will win, and decided never to waste another minute on it. \n\nFive years later, at a dinner party, a friend mentioned that chess had apparently been solved with Black winning. Some mathematician was making millions with his discovery. He'd even beaten the new most advanced AI, consistently. \n\nI sighed and changed the subject. Missed opportunities are a dime a dozen." ]	1
	[WP] Someone very high up in the government is framing people for crimes of varying severity and testing their ability to evade the authorities to recruit them for a secret organisation/mission	[ "\"I'm sorry.\" she whispered. \"I'm so. So sorry.\" There was something in her voice I'd never heard before. She wasn't the type to be scared, yet the trembling was impossible to miss. She put my hand in hers. The faint tap of the rain filled in the dead noise. Her scent managed to distract me from the odor of the little motel room we'd become quite familiar with over the past few months.\n\n\"I don't understand.\" I said. \"Is it Mark? Does he suspect something? If so, I--\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"I'm sorry I have to do this to you.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I cupped her face in the palms of my hands. \"Tell me what's wrong.\"\n\n\"Everything.\" she whispered.\n\nShe reached out her hand to me.\n\nInstead of her touch, I felt the sharp pain of high voltage pass through my body. Before I even had a chance to react, I found myself stumbling onto the ground, my muscles erratically twitching. In the corner of my eye, in spite of my consciousness slipping, I saw it. The taser in her hands. It's funny how my poor little mind could not have felt even slightly betrayed at that moment. Was it the nausea? The spinning? Or was it that beautiful face of hers? Her kind voice? Her perfect posture?\n\nThe tears forming in the corners of her eyes?\n\nI would never know.\n\nAll I had was that image of her regret as she stood over me. It would be the only thing I get to keep.\n\nI closed my eyes.\n\nAnd the world I knew disappeared forever.\n\n___\n\n\"Let's take this from the top.\" the detective sighed, frustrated that after six long hours, he still hadn't managed to get a confession out of me. \"You and Ms. Alicia Winters were lovers. Last night, you met up for your little rendezvous. She threatened to tell your wife about your affair, so you stabbed her.\"\n\n\"No.\" I simply said.\n\n\"The knife has your fingerprints on it. Security footage showed that only two of you entered that room.\"\n\n\"It wasn't me.\"\n\nI caught a glimpse of a grin forming on the elderly man's lips. He'd been doing this kind of thing for a while. Thought he knew my \"type\". That he could see right through me. Another fly that'd caught itself in a fatal romance. Still trying to struggle away. I bet he saw himself as the spider.\n\nOf course, he could have seen through me, he would've known the last thing I wanted was to escape. Quite the contrary. I wanted the truth to have been that I'd killed her. It would've at least given me peace. A satisfying conclusion. After all, if I hadn't killed Alice, someone else had. The thought made my stomach turn. \n\nIn spite of the lack of a confession, the physical evidence would prove to be enough to convict me. My affair with Alice would go out into the open. My wife would not show up for the trial. Mark, Alice's husband, would have to be restrained after trying to jump at me while I pleaded my innocence. They should've let him have at it. Lord knows I deserved it.\n\nAnd that would be that. Another murderer behind bars.\n\n___\n\n...At least, I believed as much at the time.\n\nHowever, I would not be given an orange jumpsuit. Or a prison cell. Or a prison at all, for that matter.\n\n\"Mr. Wool. It's a pleasure to meet you. Alice had told me a lot about you.\"\n\n\"What is this? Where am I?\" I asked, desperately trying to cover my eyes from the lamplight pointed directly at me.\n\nHow many of them had been in the room? Three? Four? It was hard to tell - the room was engulfed in complete darkness - but it was definitely more than just the asshole sitting on the other side of the table. Security, likely. The man's face might've been hidden in shadow, but his shape revealed him as rather fit. By the sound of his voice, I'd have put him at around mid-thirties, early forties.\n\n\"As far as the world is concerned, you've begun your long journey to rehabilitation for your crime. What was it-- Flintwood Penitentiary? Dreadful place. Really, you should consider yourself lucky.\" He cleared his throat and continued before I had a chance to interject. \"I understand you worked with Ms. Winters?\" He asked completely nonchalantly.\n\nWhat was this? Some kind of additional interrogation? Even then, I knew those weren't exactly part of the procedure for a man that had his trial wrap up just hours earlier. \"...Yeah.\"\n\n\"As I've been led to believe, as her co-worker, your field of expertise would've been on the subject of neuroscience?\"\n\n\"...Broadly-speaking, sure. Who are you? I-I'm not answering a damn thing until I get to see my lawyer!\"\n\n\"Your lawyer isn't coming.\" The man shrugged. \"But you will talk. I'm certain all this must be very confusing for you. If you ask me, it's a damn shame to be resorting to measures such as these. But we cannot take any risks at this stage.\"\n\n\"Who are you people? What the FUCK is this?!\"\n\n\"You are currently in a secret government facility, Mr. Wool. It is where you will be staying henceforth.\"\n\n\"Go-Government? What...?\"\n\n\"Allow me to get to the point, Mr. Wool. Ms. Winters is, undoubtedly unbeknownst to you, a prominent researcher here. Upon her recommendation, we have decided to offer you a position here.\"\n\nAlice...? Working for the government...?\n\n\"...Your employee died and you decided to give her killer a job? Is this a joke?\" I said, letting a nervous chuckle escape.\n\n\"Fortunately for you, Mr. Wool, we're perfectly aware of your innocence. After all, we are the cause for your current misfortune.\"\n\n\"...What? What? What the hell are you talking about? Did you -- are you the ones who did it?! Did you kill her?!\"\n\nThe man sighed.\n\n\"No. No, we did not kill Ms. Winters.\"\n\n\"Get me out of here. I'm done talking to you. You hear?! I know my rights, and I'm not playing these games!\" I tried to get up from the table, only to find myself restrained by hands reaching from the shadows. Yep. Definitely three or four. \"Let go!\"\n\n\"We did not kill Ms. Winters. You did not kill Ms. Winters. That's because nobody killed Ms. Winters.\"\n\nI froze.\n\n\"...What?\"\n\n___\n\nThere she was.\n\nStanding in the middle of the hallway, as if it'd just been any other day. In that cute labcoat of hers. With that smile that said so many things -- neither of which I wanted to try and decipher at the time. I just wanted to hug her. Or slap her. Or something. I didn't know what. I was happy. I think. I should've been, at least.\n\nShe approached me.\n\nShe hugged me.\n\nA ghost hugged me.\n\nNo. The touch was real enough. She was there. She was right there.\n\n\"...I'm so sorry.\" she whispered. \"I'm so. So sorry.\"\n\n\"...You were in on this?\" I was so bewildered I didn't even notice the guard undoing my cuffs. \"How...? No, forget the how. I just want to know why. Everyone -- everyone thinks that-- that you're-- and that I...!\"\n\n\"I know.\" she nodded.\n\nSilence.\n\n\"Well -- why?! Why the hell did you do it?!\"\n\n\"We had no choice.\" She slid her hands into her coat pockets. That trembling from that night was nowhere to be found. She was back to being the same Alice I knew and... loved? I wasn't so sure anymore. \"I know how it sounds. But it was for your own good.\"\n\n\"Being called a murderer was for my own good?! I've lost my job, my friends, my family, and locked up in some -- wh-where the fuck IS this?!\"\n\n\"Calm down.\"\n\n\"I will not!\"\n\n\"Please, just listen to me. If we hadn't done what we did, you would be in a far worse position than this.\"\n\n\"You know, somehow I doubt that!\" I exclaimed, finally realizing the stares of the other scientists that had slowly begun to gather around us in curiosity.\n\n\"There was a leak. Regarding the project I'm currently on. Not much, but enough for rival organizations to understand the concept. A concept that someone respected in the field of neuroscience would make progress on. One faction in particular set their sights on someone they thought would be useful to their cause. You.\" She placed her hands on my shoulders. I forced them away. \"...Ethan. They were going to kidnap you. They were going to lock you up and force you to make what I'm making. Now that they think you're in prison, they can't reach you, and we can work together to make sure everything--!\"\n\n\"--You've literally kidnapped me and are now trying to get me to work for you!\"\n\nShe looked away.\n\nAnother moment of silence.\n\n\"...They're dangerous, Ethan. If they had their hands on this stuff, things could -- no, would -- be bad.\"\n\n\"Got it. So, you're making something destructive and want to make sure nobody else can get their hands on it.\"\n\n\"And something to counter it, if the need for it arises! God, just give me a fucking chance here, would you?\"\n\n___\n\n\"We call it the MK-GIGA.\" she explained, leading the way through her massive lab.\n\nI blinked. \"MK-GIGA...? Wait. That sounds vaguely familiar.\"\n\n\"You might be familiar with an operation the US attempted between the 50s and 70s called the MK-ULTRA.\"\n\n\"...That project was about using drugs and suggestion to figure out how to establish mind control over subjects, wasn't it?\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\nI stopped.\n\n\"...Alice. No. No, don't tell me--\"\n\nShe said nothing.\n\n\"I refuse. I don't give a shit whose side it's on, but I am NOT helping you work on taking away free will! It's unethical and inhumane! For God's sake, you should know better!\"\n\nShe stared.\n\n\"...I should, shouldn't I?\"\n\n\"I'm leaving.\"\n\n\"You're not.\" she said coldly. \"The only thing an escape attempt will guarantee is a bullet. You will help me with this.\"\n\n\"No. I will.\"\n\nI shivered.\n\nWhy had I said that? I figured it must've been a slip of the tongue.\n\n\"No, I mean -- I will help you.\"\n\nShe walked over to me, and began to stroke my cheek. \"...See? That's how much progress I've made. You want to be a part of that, don't you?\"\n\nI didn't.\n\n\"I do.\"\n\nI wanted to push her away.\n\nI embraced her.\n\n\"...You did something to me in that hotel room.\" I said.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" she whispered. \"I'm so. So sorry.\"" ]	1
	[WP] After years of feeling like you don’t belong, you discover that one of your parents was far from human...	[ "Sick. I am once again sick.\n\nWhat ailed me in the past was a virus and germs, yet this sickness I feel is caused not by the biological and unliving microbes but by something far more human.\n\nDesire. Desire sickens me, the desire to learn a crucial fact of my origin and what I truly am as a person in a vast, cold universe which rejects me.\n\nWithin school I feel the steady gaze of people who don’t wish for me to speak with them despite my attempts to do so. For everyone girl shivers at my presence and every boy treats me as a threat, casting me aside and isolating me to the corners.\n\nFather has never spoken of mother to me, and my desire for human companionship has been left a void started and fueled by him. I was never given the impression mother left me, only lies of it. From the earliest age I understood that mother had only been apart of my life in the earliest stages of it, from my conception to my birth then she was gone. Somehow I saw through my father’s lies and knew she had only left me, temporarily, yet that can still be a long time.\n\nMy first step to finding the woman I call my mother began when a girl approached me. A most attractive girl with hair as dark as the raven’s wing and eyes so red with emotion I only barely noticed the strange fascination with something I came to learn was death.\n\n“Hello,” she said in a voice with a strange seductiveness to it, “are you the boy called Geist?”\n\nAh yes, Geist, the nickname given to me by those who wished I was one.\n\n“My name is Gren,” I muttered back. It was a strange name but mine.\n\n“I have a request of you,” she asked as she said across from me at the cafeteria table. The girls and boys shot us strange glances, and I became uneasy. \n\nInstantly her face changed to concern as she glanced where I did. Then she stood up and took my shaking hand, leading me away to a location which was private.\n\nAs private as she needed to do things with me. For me. Inside a janitor’s closet she seduced me and took my virgin body. All through this rutting I was awestruck by the scars on her abdomen, scars which formed a perfect spiraling shape of the old Celts. And her deep breathing chanting, asking for one thing, over and over, one thing only.\n\n“Give me your mother’s grandchild.”\n\nI felt my skin crawl afterwards, while she was aglow with energy and newfound life, life that would blossom into something magnificent as she claimed. She gave thanks to my mother, and through that did I finally learn her name.\n\nThe phantom queen who chanted the end of the world. The wife of the Dagda and the Banshee queen.\n\nThe Morrígan of the Tuatha de Danaan.\n\nI asked my father about her several times that day, and he sent me in the streets, cold and alone, unable to understand anything save my own seemingly divine parentage. I wondered if the girl whose name I never learned had simply been delusional and insane.\n\nUntil the ravens came to my father’s house. I stayed out there all day waiting and hoping for my father to take me back. Instead I saw my mother’s ravens break in and heard his screams.\n\nAnd atop his house did I see it, a figure clad in red surrounded by her phantoms, gazing upon me from another world.\n\nMy mother.\n\nA queen among gods." ]	1
	[WP] One day, without realizing it, you get the ability that everything you say sarcastically, becomes literally real. This is the story of how you and No-Shit Sherlock saved the Queen.	[ "The alarm blares loudly and I lazily attempt to slap snooze on the alarm clock. After missing a couple times, in a sleepily rage, I yank out the plug instead.\n\nAn hour later-\n\n\"FUCK!\" I say, bolting upright, wiping my eyes, and throwing my covers to the side, my husband grunting with displeasure. I hurry groggily to the bathroom glancing at the clock and quickly decided to skip a shower due being late. I brush my teeth and wash my face quickly throwing on an 3 day old uniform and boots. I grab my keys and coat and bike to the local market. The crisp cool morning air hitting my face.\n\nJared is already set up with fruits, vegetables, and baked goods on his stand .\"Where were you?\" he asks annoyed.\n\n \"...Shitty morning,\" I grumble back.\n\n\"I have to piss. Watch the stand.\" He takes of his apron and flings it onto the folding chair.\n\n \"...Piss...watch the stand\", I mock. Jared quickly turns around and play punches my face and I duck, laughing. I start organizing the produce, checking for abnormalities, while eating some bread from the stand for breakfast.\n\n\"Excuse me sir, do you sell oranges individually?\" comes a stern voice.\n\n\"No shit, Sherlock\". I snap sarcastically. I glance up squinting my eyes from the sun. She is wearing a thick coat with a scarf around her neck, covering her mouth and ears, and a beanie. She flashes me a look of disgust and I immediately feel guilty.\n\n\"Ma'am, I am sorry,\" I stutter \"I've been having a crappy day.\" and hand her an orange nodding at it. \"Go ahead. You can have it.\" She looks at me hesitantly and takes it, lingering a bit looking at my wedding band, and mumbles something that sounds like a question. \"Could you repeat that again?\" I ask.\n\n\"I said I have been having a bad one as all\" she says, her voice breaking. Oh no.\n\nI attempt to comfort her, \"...tha-\".\n\n\"I have to take a trip in a couple hours to meet some people and I simply don't want to go\" she interjected hurriedly, all in one breath.\n\n\"Can't you cancel?\" I ask hesitantly.\n\n\"Important matters. Let's just say my husband doesn't give me choices.\" Her voice sounds oddly familiar, but I swear I've never met her. I look at her a little longer she notices and shifts her face to the right. \n\n\"Well, as much as you'll hate to hear it. You control your own life. I'm the king of my world you are the queen of yours.\" She looks like she is considering it, but doesn't press on.\n\nShe looks at my hands again. \"Are you happy with your wife?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I carefully answer. \"My husband and I have been together for a while.\"\n\nSighing and shaking herself together she utters diplomatically \"I'd like to buy the bread, there, how much is it?\"\n\n\"2 units,\" I answer.\n\nShe hands me 20 units and I interject to correct her and she puts her left arm up in defense, \"take it.\" I bag her bread and she nods at me and walks away. I watch her disappear into the crowd and ponder how strange that encounter was and shake my head. Going back to checking the bread I realize most of the loaves have mold on them.\n\n\"Shit\" I say under my breath and scan the crowd for her, but she is already gone. I start collecting the moldy bread to throw away and my Jared comes back.\n\n\"Did you make a sale?\" asks Jared tying his apron back on.\n\n\"Yeah 20 units\"\n\n\"Whoa man, look at you. Wait, why are you rounding up the bread? The day just started.\" he said pointing at his watch.\n\n\"The breads all rotten. I just sold one and ate one.\" My stomach starts flipping and I get the familiar feeling of a stomach bug. \"Dude, I think I am getting sick.\"\n\nJared grabs the bag of bread. \"Go home, I don't want you ruining the rest of the food.\"\n\n\"Thanks, I owe you one\" I chuckle.\n\n I bike home and climb back in bed with my husband and go to sleep. My husband shakes me awake an hour later. \"The King died due a jet's engine malfunction.\" he says wide-eyed handing me the article on his phone. I skim through the page. \"Jet reported for the royal transport undergoes engine malfunction...crashes killing the pilot and the king...a sad day for our country...queen narrowly avoids losing her life choosing to opt-out of meeting due to stomach illness.\n\nMy heart sinks. Could it be? I think. \"Nah,\" I shake my head and lay back down to sleep.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAddendum: This is the first prompt I have written. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.\n\n&#x200B;", "The phone rang. “Why did you leave the phone on?”\n\nI just gruntled and sat up in bed, reaching for the infernal device. The number was from the fluorescent light bulb hell, otherwise known as the office.\n\n“I asked you why you left your phone on?”\n\n“There’s no need to repeat yourself, Irene, I ignored you just fine the first time. I told you yesterday I’m on call this weekend. Comes with the job. Serve and protect. It’s what being a cop is about.”\n\nShe shuffled the sheets and tried to get some more shuteye. I got out of the bedroom and took the call. “Jeff speaking. What? Missing? Right. Yeah, I could pick someone up along the way. Yes, I know you hate the late shift. Yeah, I know I at least got some sleep, but not enough.” The sound of the mosquito with a human body rattled and rattled, annoying as ever. “Karen, cheer up. if you don’t like your job, remember that eventually you will die.” No response. Did she finally get the message that I wasn’t interested in her sad little problems? The snark answers where sometimes the best. The day before yesterday she just started talking slower when I told her to slow down because I don’t speak idiot. She stopped talking yesterday when I had asked her if she would like to have nice cup of shut the fuck up. And I really hoped she got the message now and got off my back. Permanently.\n\nI arrived at Pete’s place and rung the bell. He grabbed his coat and hopped in the car. As we drove off he started monologuing about his wonderful adventures of last night. Or a couple of hours ago I should say. I yawned.\n\n“Still sleepy eh?”\n\n“No, I always yawn when I hear a good story.” Suddenly I was wide awake. Must have been the sudden flash of lights coming from the cars in the opposite direction. No other cars passed us after that. We arrived at Buckingham Palace under 15 minutes. At least traffic wasn’t that bad at this hour. We were escorted to the royal bedroom.\n\nPete canvassed the room. ”She’s not in here.”\n\n“No shit Sherlock! That’s why they called us!” I sighed. “Any other brilliant suggestion that comes to mind that could get this investigation somewhere?”\n\n“Yes, but I will not bother you with the deduction process. And could you quit talking? Your level of stupid makes my brain hurt.”\n\nI glanced at Pete. Pete was normally a quiet guy. I’m normally the one that’s snarling at everyone. Probably in a bad mood or something. No one liked to get up at this hour. With or without coffee. With or without a hangover because you supposedly had a free weekend like Pete. But that all changes when the royal old bat goes missing. He started walking towards the car. I trailed behind him.\n\n“Come on Jeff, start the car already. Chop chop.”\n\nWhatever. “Whereto, Pete?”\n\n“Just get to the Albert bridge road. I know where she is.”\n\nWe arrived and got out of the car. Pete went straight to the Battersea Park Lake. He was way more athletic than me. I panted when he finally stopped running. “Why are we here Pete? To enjoy the outdoors? Experience the fabulous wild life Britain as to offer? Like the magnificent horsefly?” I was stung in the neck and almost lost my footing. Dammit.\n\n“Or the old bat.” Pete switched on the flashlight.\n\nThere she was. On the other side of the lake. Walking her dogs. “No Queen, no dogs, no leashes, no jacket. I just figured she was tired of the same walk every day on the Palace grounds. Unfortunately, she can only come out at night if she wants a quiet unsupervised stroll.”\n\n“Well stew my foot and call me Brenda…”\n\n“Maybe later, Brenda. We have to get her back to the palace now.”\n\nEdit: grammar and spelling", "“Well, no shit Sherlock!” \n\n“Not now Watson! We need to get to the Queen!” Sherlock Holmes, one of thy majesty’s greatest aspiring detectives, takes it upon himself to save the Queen – The only problem is, Sherlock Holmes is a fictional character made up by the mind of Sir Arthur Doyle. Truth be told, it was Dr. John Watson who was real. Looking back a little bit when Watson sarcastically told Arthur,\n\n“Yea, okay then. Sherlock Holmes just so happens to be real.” Poof. Out of nowhere, stood a devilishly handsome and confused detective trying to wrap his head around who these two men were.\n\n“My heavens!” Arthur fell back against his chair. “You literally spoke the man into existence!”\n\nWatson assured Arthur that if he spoke him into existence, he could surely speak him out of it.\n\n“Fine,” Watson stroked his mustache, “Sherlock Holmes isn’t real.”\n\nPoof. That would be the word I would use to describe if Sherlock Holmes had vanished, but instead, he was still standing there wide-eyed.\n\n“Dr. Watson!” Arthur spat. “Fix this! He is nothing but a character in a story!”\n\n“In a story, you say?” Sherlock picked up a book to study it closely. Arthur watched as he flipped page by page reading faster than any other man Arthur had known.\n\n“Look it isn’t that bad, he’s a detective after all!” Watson explained. He walked over towards Sherlock who remained deep into the book.\n\n“Is this really about me?”\n\n“No, it’s about your mother.” Watson replied as he rolled his eyes. Sherlock looked back down only to find that it was his mother who was England’s famous detective.\n\n“I’d like to live up to her name.” Sherlock nodded. Watson scrunched his brow in concern. He grabbed the book out of Sherlock’s hands to find that everything originally stating, ‘Sherlock Holmes,’ was now the name of a woman, ‘Moriarty Holmes.’\n\nArthur stood up, straitening his back. “Dr. Watson, what have you done? How are you changing everything?”\n\nWatson scratched his head and realized that it wasn’t just in the words he had said, it was the tone of his voice when saying it. So, he had an idea to put it to the test.\n\n“The Queen needs our help.” Watson stated in monotone. Nothing happened. Arthur shook his head and before he could even object to what Watson was thinking, Watson continued with the same sentence again – only this time, sarcastically.\n\nThe window behind Sherlock busted wide open. Bullets ricochet off of the wooden bookshelves next to Watson and Arthur. All of them hit the floor. Men outside were barking orders to each other about taking the street to ambush the Queen's motorcade.\n\nWatson grabbed hold of his cap before realizing out loud, “I probably should have used a different example.”\n\n“Well, no shit Sherlock!” Arthur realized his own words.\n\n“Not now Watson! We need to get to the Queen!” Sherlock shouted. “It’s what my mother would have done!”\n\nArthur scoffed, “Oh, yea. I’m sure she would! Lucky for us, she just happens to be on the other side of that door!”\n\nWatson waited for whom was once a brilliant mathematician, now detective, to walk through the double glassed doors to save them. No one approached.\n\n“Why is it only when I’m the one being facetious?” Watson flinched when another bullet hit open a whiskey decanter on a shelf above. \n\n“I don’t know!” Arthur yelled back over the gunfire. “Why don’t you do something since today is the day you're playing God?”\n\nWatson replied, “What the hell do you want me to do?!”\n\n“Well for starters, get these men to stop firing!”\n\n“Sure,” Watson nodded, “I’m sure they would just love to come in and sit down over a hot cup of tea! Hell, the Queen would probably join them!”\n\nIn an instant, bullets had ceased. Multiple footsteps approached the front door. A knock echoed through the household now ripped apart in bullet holes and broken glass.\n\n“Who is it?” Sherlock asked. He slowly leaned over the windowsill to investigate.\n\n“Get down you idiot!” Arthur motioned toward him.\n\nA man shouted from outside claiming they were all there to sit down over tea as a peace offering. To their surprise, the sounds of multiple tires screeching came from the Queen’s motorcade that had finally turned onto the street.\n\nArthur slowly stood up on his feet and Watson followed him. Sherlock followed behind Watson and they all slowly opened the door. Criminal-looking individuals stood out in the street with tea ready to be made. The Queen jumped out of her vehicle forcing everyone on the street to kneel before her. Sherlock was the only one out the three standing in the doorway to kneel along with them.\n\n“What has happened?” Arthur questioned. The Queen approached him and Watson. She glared into both their eyes.\n\n“You’re going to drop it. Arthur, you are going to spill it.” Arthur didn’t understand what the Queen was saying. She grabbed hold of both his arms.\n\n—\n\nWatson shook Arthur awake on his couch. “My goodness, Sir. You fell asleep with your whiskey in hand.”\n\n“Watson.” Arthur immediately shot up spilling bits of whiskey all over the couch. “Watson, I had the most interesting dream. Everything you said came to light – you were making things happen, you made everything change!”\n\n“How much have you had?” Watson replied while feeling the temperature of Arthur’s forehead.\n\n“You – you were like a God!”\n\n“Right,” Watson replied smiling, “and Sherlock Holmes is in your kitchen.”\n\nWatson released a slight chuckle while Arthur’s expression quickly fell. Suddenly, someone was making a ruckus in the kitchen. \n\n***\n\nWant to read more? Visit [13th Olympian Stories!](https://www.reddit.com/r/13thOlympian/)" ]	3
	[WP] As it turns out, photographs really do steal souls, and you just died. You soon realize you're trapped inside the first photo of you ever taken.	[ "One minute I was driving along in my awesome convertible sportscar, and the next I'm staring at a supermarket aisle full of adult incontinence pads. \n\nTurns out, the superstition was right - photographs really do steal your soul and trap it. I died in a car wreck and my soul is trapped inside a photo of me.\n\nIn all my years as a professional model, I have been photographed in the most beautiful places, surrounded by the most beautiful people, and wearing the most beautiful clothing. But the photo I am trapped in is not any of those. I am trapped inside my very first photo.\n\nMy mother, a former model herself, made a deal with the big diaper company. My first photoshoot was when I was only a day old. Now every time you buy a package of Newborn Diapers, mine is the adorable little face peering out from the label. I am naked except for a diaper.\n\nMy soul is forever trapped in the diaper aisle. Every time a copy is destroyed, my soul simply transfers to another copy. The view never improves. Factory, cardboard box, market, or changing table - this is all I see. Thankfully photographs have no sense of smell!\n\nMaybe one day, they will stop using my photo. Maybe one day all the copies will be destroyed. And then, perhaps I will be free! \n\nEither that or my soul will move on to the 2nd photo ever taken of me...\n" ]	1
	[WP] "A bow that grants tactical skill, but leads you to love and then lose that love. A lance that grants great power, but leads you to die on the field of battle. And a sword that grants great leadership, but will kill you from a decision that you make. Which will you take?"	[ "\"Better to have loved and lost,\" I said, lifting the bow. \"Or so I've been told.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said Bricklebranch, the gnome, already disappearing the other weapons. \"Though I'll make sure to check how you feel after it's done.\" \n\n\"So the 'skill' it provides, how does that work?\" \n\n\"Oh, it already has. You'll simply have a better sense of what to do when the time comes. And something tells me, those times will come aplenty.\"\n\nThat was 32 years ago, back when I was little more than a bit of cannon fodder in the Green Briar Militia. Back before the Master of Paths was known to all. Back even before I met the Lady of Lies, Mentrosa, but then, she's the one I was led to, the woman who chose the Sword. The woman who chose me, as well, for all that's worth.\n\nYou see, I was only one of Bricklebranch's customers. He'd started with five weapons, counting a staff and a spear that had been claimed before I came along. I've heard so many version of their blessings, I couldn't tell you which are true. And as their bearers are both dead, I don't suppose I'll ever learn the truth. As for the curses, well, the staff-bearer was buried alive, and the spear, he was poisoned by his own daughter. The Mistress of Miles, and the Father of Fear. It hurt to lose them. \n\nAnd then there is the Lord of Doors, with that blasted Lance. He's tucked himself away, cut off from the world. Locked up away from any battle. A clever scheme, and it's worked so far. But I've let my sorrow hold me too long. He stayed hidden only because I wasn't looking. Now, I set out on a path of revenge. And the Master of Paths always knows exactly where they lead. \n\n", "\"Hi there. I'm looking to join the militia next weekend but I heard that they prefer it if you can provide your own weapon. For the past four years, I've trained with swords, lances, bows, flails, spears, halberds, maces, and more, so I'm fairly confident that I can handle anything you have for sale. What do you have on offer?\"\n\n\n\"Good sir, I have three Very powerful weapons available that seem Right up your alley! Here, I have a bow that grants tactical skill, but leads you to love and then lose that love. Over here I have a lance that grants great power, but leads you to die on the battlefield. And this, This is a sword that grants Great leadership, but it will kill you from a decision that you make. Which weapon will you choose?\"\n\n\n\"Um, honestly? All of those sound terrible. Why would I buy a weapon that is guaranteed to ultimately, somehow, kill me? That's just bad business. And the love thing. What's that about? Will the bow make me eventually shoot and kill the love of my life? Why the fuck would I buy that? Who in their right mind would want Any of these weapons?!\"\n\n\n\"Er, um, well sir, when you put it like that... I honestly don't know. This is just what I have on offer...\"\n\n\n\"Well that's rubbish! Don't you have a normal sword or ax or something? You know, You hit someone with it, they die, and you Don't get fucked over with unintended consequences?\"\n\n\n\"Um, well, no. Sorry, I only got these here. They have magical properties tho! Makes 'em quite valuable!\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, 'bout as valuable as a knife to the kidney. Tell you what. You can keep all o' this junk, and I'm going to go find a blacksmith that's not a complete idiot.\"\n\n\n\"Wha...!?!? Good sir! I'll say, I Never...!\"\n\n\n\"Never what? Used your common sense? Thought a thing through? Tried to sell normal gear that didn't screw over your own customers? Yeah, I can see that. I'll be taking my leave now. And you can Bet that I'll tell every other adventurer I meet just What kind of \"Goods\" they can expect to find here. How you're still in business, I'll Never know. Good Day, sir!!!'", "“What do you know of me?”\n\n“They call you The Lioness. The peerless vanguard of your people. When those around you step back in fear, you leap forward. When others stumble and tire, you fight on. When the way seems impossible, you find the path forward. I have heard what they say of you.”\n\n“Then you know nothing of me. I am a selfish, weak and cowardly. Why would you offer such power to someone like me?”\n\n“I know that you alone volunteered to embark on this quest, hoping to fail in solitude. I know your sleep is plagued with nightmares of things you have done, things you think you have done, and things you failed to do. I know your fears, your frailties, and what it is you covet.”\n\n“My question remains unanswered.”\n\n“I have foreseen ruin and darkness befalling us all. I am offering you the help you need as it is in my best interests to do so. However there is no gain without sacrifice.”\n\n“Then tell me of the costs so that I might choose.”\n\n“The bow will bestow the clarity of mind to always see the path to victory. Victory, as all things, has it's price and it will be paid by absence of those closest to your heart.” \n\n“No. Please... no. I can not bear to loose much more, and I abhor the thought becoming so callous that I no longer feel the pain of heart break.”\n\n“Very well. The sword will grant the wisdom of an expectational leader. You will guide your people to greatness but in doing so you will ultimately become the architect of your own demise.” \n\n“To devote my life to others only to be ruined by it seems a particularly cruel and drawn out fate. Wisdom or not, I lack the strength to bear the burden of leadership. I would twist and break under it's weight; so as to be too far gone to see the justice that would be served by my death. I have plenty enough to atone for as it is.”\n\n“Perhaps the lance will interest you. There is great power in wielding it yet not enough to save you from finding your death in the heat of battle. You will never know the peace you have fought so hard to secure.”\n\n“I... yes, yes this will do. I will take the lance.” \n\n“Are you sure? The bow will undoubtedly hasten the end of the war saving many lives and the sword will lead to a golden age the likes of which your people never dreamed possible.” \n\n“As I said before, I am a weak selfish coward. I will not give up the ones I love, nor am willing to make thousands of sacrifices, big and small, until it breaks me.” \n\n“Then your choice has been made. May it serve you well and may you find the end you seek.” \n\n“The fates are rarely ever so kind but... thank you none the less.” \n\n“The fates have less to do with our destinies than the choices we make for ourselves. Something to remember as you make use of that lance.”", "\"This is a test, isn't it?\"\n\nThe sage said nothing.\n\nI pointed to the sword: \"Sometimes the right decision requires you to make a sacrifice play. Sometimes the general needs to take the field. Using the sword to its full potential means putting your life on the line.\"\n\nI pointed to the lance. \"This one is the most obvious. A lance requires you to lead the charge. That puts your life at risk, no matter how strong or skilled you are. Using this weapon will lead you to die in battle.\"\n\nThen I turned to the bow. \"This weapon grants the mindset of an assassin - not simply shooting arrows but knowing where and who to shoot for maximum effect. But life of an assassin is a lonely one - always knowing your targets but never letting anyone know you.\"\n\nI turned back to the Sage. \"They aren't actually cursed, are they? This is simply a description of what it means to use their powers.\"\n\nHe inclined his head slightly. \"The question remains, young warrior. Which will you choose?\"\n\nI thought a bit more, and said, \"The sword. The war is too big to be ended by a single soldier or assassin. They have their place, but without leadership, we could lose entire armies.\"\n\nI picked up the sword and buckled its scabbard to my waist. Instantly, it was as if my mind expanded, filled with knowledge about the kingdom's armies. As if looking down from on high, I could see a legion marching to block the road to Tel Marathi, another hastily fortifying the North Pass, another retreating in disarray...\n\nI was yanked back down to earth by the Sage saying \"Actually, they are cursed.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"The weapons are cursed. Anyone who wields one, even for a single battle, will find themselves paying its price. Sometimes in days, sometimes in months, always in less than a year. There's a reason they were sealed away.\"\n\n\"So I was completely wrong.\" I said.\n\n\"I didn't correct you because you grasped the most essential part - we need someone willing to use these weapons to their full potential, even if it costs their life or the life of a loved one. The war is going badly and we need every advantage we can get.\"\n\nI said nothing, still grappling with the magnitude of my error. I had been so confident in my understanding of the curses that I never bothered to ask why the weapons were never used. And for my pride, I was going to die before the year was out.\n\n\"If it makes you feel any better, I thought it was a very clever analysis.\"", "\"The cursed treasures,\" I whispered.\n\n\"You must choose one or you will die on the way out,\" the sprite said.\n\nI sighed. \n\nI'd been on this quest for over two years. My entire team had perished for the cause over the journey of hundreds of miles, through rough terrain, past misleading robbers, petty thieves and horrific murderers. The treasure was indeed \"cursed\", there was no doubt to it.\n\nCountless people had died searching for it before me, so much so that the entire kingdom had deemed it an impossible quest. But I was adamant.\n\n\n\"You can take your time,\" the sprite said. \n\nIt was a ghastly creature that was doomed to guard the treasure until someone came to take them. One of its eyes was fixed upon the treasure, the other upon me. It had a wild, fervent motion, like that of a genie that was about to be released from its \"bottle\".\n\nI reflected over my choices once again. Two choices led to certain death, one choice led to heartbreak and sorrow.\n\n\"This is easy,\" I said.\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"I can take the bow. I can take the loss of love at the cost of tactical skill.\"\n\n\"Isn't that a selfish decision? Think of the countless maidens who's hearts you will break,\" the sprite said.\n\n\"I can't relinquish my ownership of the treasure after I get it? What if I'm here as a messenger and I want to take it back to my king?\"\n\n\"Only death can break your ownership of the treasures,\" the sprite said.\n\n\"Cursed indeed,\" I muttered.\n\n\"Yes, cursed indeed. Yes,\" the sprite whispered.\n\n\"Has anyone come here before me?\" I asked.\n\n\"You are the second person\", the sprite said.\n\n\"The first being?\"\n\n\"Me,\" he replied.\n\n\"What? And you're cursed to defend these treasures?\"\n\n\"Oh, no. I just assumed that was my role. You see, I had decided to take the bow, just like you thought to. Then I did. I took the bow. As soon as I took it, I felt a great sorrow pass through me. I was in love with the treasures. Look at the beautiful lance, look at that sword! Where have you seen such elegance before? It defies the skills of the greatest weaponries of the kingdom,\" he said.\n\n\"Wait. So you're cursed to lose the treasures because you love them?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" the sprite whispered.\n\n\"So I have to kill you in order to procure the bow. Because just walking away with it wouldn't give me any power. Is that correct?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"So why didn't you just pick up all three and walk out? You knew you were going to die anyway,\" I said.\n\n\"The bow tells me not to. The tactical choice is to wait,\" the sprite said.\n\n\"Alright. Then I will kill you, take the bow, close my eyes and walk out of here. How do you want to die?\" I asked.\n\n\"You don't understand. The treasures all lead you to death one way or another. The bow only prolongs it by cursing you to a doomed fate. The lance and the sword grant you glory at the cost of death. The logical choice is for us to kill each other and hope that nobody comes here again,\" the sprite said.\n\n\"Is this you talking or the bow?\"\n\n\"Both of us,\" he said.\n\n\"Alright. I'll take the lance and the sword before I die since you don't own them,\" I said.\n\nI wanted to experience true power and leadership before I died. \n\n\"As you wish,\" the sprite said.\n\nI picked up the lance. A surge of wild energy pulsed through me, and I felt my eyes sparkle with the glory of a thousand suns.\n\nI picked up the sword. There was a subtle change in my thoughts, but I could feel it permeate through my being in a flash.\n\n\"Sprite,\" I said.\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"We shall strike each other at the same time.\"\n\nThe sprite picked up his bow and looked me in the eye.\n\n\"I am sorry child,\" he said.\n\nWith a swift motion, he released an arrow and it struck my heart, sending me crashing onto the floor of the cave.\n\n\"I don't understand!\"\n\n\"I lied to you about everything,\" the sprite said.\n\n\"B-but the treasures-\"\n\n\"A myth. We're a group of thieves, murderers, snatchers. Instead of going around and finding people to steal from, our great-great-grandfathers came up with the mystery of the Cursed Treasures. Countless men like you have come here or perished along the way and we have prospered beyond your wildest dreams by stealing from them.\"\n\n\"This is wrong!\" I shouted.\n\n\"Of course it is. It is cursed treasure after all,\" the man said. \n\nHe slipped out of his elaborate costume and bent down to look at my face.\n\n\"And you thought you were special,\" he whispered.\n\nI closed my eyes as his knife grazed against my bloodied face.", "The priests gathered around the altar which had been covered in white cloth. I watched as one dipped an olive branch into goat’s blood only to flick it across the altar spattering its stain. The priests knew I had arrived. The head priest signaled for the others to kneel as I stepped through the doorway of stone pillars.\n\n“Ah, our new King!” The head priest greeted.\n\nI didn’t know what to respond with. I never thought of myself being King this young. My father, who had been King, fell ill last winter and was not able to recover. Now, I must go through the ceremony of transfer to the crown. In our Kingdom, each King must select their mark. This is a mark that all kingdoms know. It is a mark of the King itself – apparently a weapon of sorts. \n\n“Respond to the priest.” My teacher pulled my attention back from my inner thoughts. “He’s greeted you.”\n\n“Head priest,” I stated before hesitating to say, “Bless you.” It is what all Kings are supposed to say as they had instructed me.\n\n“Stand over there.” My teacher pointed. He was my father’s most trusted councilor. He would always fold his hands behind his back when he walked. I noticed he'd have a habit of looking down onto the floor. It was a habit he’d developed after serving his years with my father. When I asked him why he always looked down when he walked, it was because he made sure my father never tripped. He claimed that all Kings have to look up when they walk, or no one will want to follow them.\n\n“Let me have a look at you. Ah, yes. You have your father’s eyes I see.” The head priest rested both his hands atop my shoulders to study me closely. “We have never had such a young King before, hmm.” \n\nI lowered my eyes. I had only been alive for about nineteen years now. I was far too young to be any sort of King. The head priest quickly raised my chin to force my eyes back upward off the floor. “Kings look upward.” He responded.\n\n“Here you are, King Jacob.” My mother approached from behind. She threw a cloth matching the altar over me. I found the cloth dragging along the floor. Usually Kings are much older and much taller. I lifted the cloth to hang lower over my back so that it would not drag beneath my feet.\n\n“Step up to the altar, King Jacob.” My teacher guided me. The priests circled around the altar with copper braziers in front of them. They all lit their individual flame in unison. Each flame was a different color to symbolize each of the traits a King should carry.\n\nThe head priest stepped up on the other side of the altar and had me come in closer to the altar’s edge. “King Jacob, each King shall carry each of the traits in order to gift the Kingdom with another sun.”\n\nThe head priest continued to read off from ancient text dating to the first of Kings. My attention came back when I heard him start the text covering a King’s mark. “Hear this closely, King Jacob, for your choices cannot be undone. Your choices will carry knowledge for our Kingdom. You must now choose your mark.”\n\nEveryone in the room kneeled down before bowing their head. I glanced over my shoulder to find my teacher kneeling beside my mother. The head priest did not kneel, instead, he pointed to a wooden curved bow. “This bow shall grant you tactical skill. It is this skill that can hold our Kingdoms together whether in diplomacy or combat. It is this very skill that makes your tongue as deadly as the silver arrows themselves. Because of this, you shall find love.”\n\nThe bow. I leaned over to touch it softly. My father had chosen the bow. His mark of the bow flew on every banner across all Kingdoms. \n\n“I know son, it is hard. He will be with you in spirit as his legacy will now be with all of us. If you would like to choose the bow in honor of your father, you must first hear all of the readings before making your final choice.” The head priest paused. Everyone else in the room remained kneeling as he was the only one who witnessed my tear soaking into the wood of the bow.\n\nI took in a deep breath and told the head priest to continue. He repeated, “Because of this you shall find love,” then he added what I never would have expected, “but because of this, you shall lose it entirely.”\n\n“Wait what?” I stopped the head priest again. My teacher began to lift his eyes, but the head priest immediately responded,\n\n“Do not lift your heads for your eyes are not to see this moment of our King!” The head priest focused back onto me. “King Jacob, each mark comes with a price. The King found love. And it was you who he had lost in the end. His sacrifice allowed our Kingdom to see many different suns and its seasons. Now you must do the same.”\n\n“It was me? Is it because of me he is gone?” I asked him. He looked to be angry when I asked but I could tell he took a moment before telling me,\n\n“No, it was his mark. That was the mark and now his mark will forever be remembered in our kingdom. He knew he would lose his love, being you and your mother. He also allowed us peace for many years and improvement across our region.”\n\nAfter his explanation, I realized my father had sacrificed more than I had ever known. I wonder what other things he was not able to tell me. I nodded for the head priest to continue. He moved away from the bow and placed his hand on an iron lance next.\n\n“This lance will grant you great power. This will be the power to inflict fear upon our enemies. Your strength will be tougher than its iron core. With this, you will win every battle. However, this mark will end with you on the battlefield itself.\n\nI needed clarification. “If a King falls, how would that win a battle?”\n\n“King Jacob!” My teacher shouted while keeping his head down.\n\n“Silence!” The head priest ordered. “Let us not forget that our King is still full of youth and that means he has much to learn. That being both in knowledge and when to speak.” He glared toward me. I could tell he was forcing himself to be patient. He did answer my question. He claimed that sacrifice can win the most important battle of all. It was usually this time in our history when we had won the war. I nodded in understanding. I knew I could not interrupt with another question.\n\nThe head priest continued to the last mark, the sword. “This sword will grant you leadership and understanding. It is this that allows those who could never follow finally find sanctuary. This mark will grant you with the decision making to guide our kingdom in knowledge over power. This mark ends in a final decision that you will enforce.”\n\nI took a moment to question the decision that will dictate the rest of my life – my mark. I could choose the bow but then I would lose the one I loved. I wouldn’t want to lose my love. If I truly loved them, I wouldn't want to put them in danger. I'd expect the mark is never the same in the end result. It could have been me that died during the winter months, or my mother. All of these marks have an end set aside for me. Losing love would be me losing myself. Even if it was for diplomacy, there had to be a better option.\n\nAfter moments of looking back and forth on all three marks. I noticed the head priest shaking his head. He was the only one allowed to watch me choose my mark. I wanted the lance but then I would die in battle. I’ve heard the stories of our enemies, it would be a gruesome death. The sword would allow me to make the best decision although one decision would get me killed. Then again maybe I would know when making the decision. I don’t know how my father had ever chose his mark. I feel like this is impossible, that I should not be King.\n\n“King Jacob, as each fire burns in the traits of a King, the Kings will always be with you in spirit.” The head priest stepped forward. “Now choose your mark, for I can see in your eyes that you are still very young, and you are wandering how this mark will affect you.”\n\n“Yes,” I replied. “I am trying to figure out how each one could be my end.”\n\n“That is your problem, King Jacob.” The head priest leaned in close to me. “You need to choose based on how it will affect our Kingdom. Figuring out how to avoid us from never seeing another sun rise.”\n\nI was expecting more encouragement. The head priest just took my impossible decision and made it even more difficult. I tried to close my eyes and focus. I felt a chill overwhelm me as something had pulled my hand over each of the marks. I couldn’t describe what had happened, but my hand grabbed hold of the sword.\n\n“Yes,” The head priest smiled again. “It seems that you have chosen the sword.”\n\nI didn’t respond. I lifted the sword up to eye-level studying the design etched into the blade.\n\n“Do not worry, King Jacob.” The head priest assured me. “Your father and the Kings before him had help choosing as well.” \n\n*\n\nWant to read more? Visit [13th Olympian Stories!](https://www.reddit.com/r/13thOlympian/)", "\"Each gift has a cost,\" the wizened enchanter said, \"both in its making, and in its taking.\" He placed a hand over a bow, magnificently etched with a shining gold string that hummed softly, \"A bow that grants tactical skill, but leads you to love and then lose that love.\" He turned to the next weapon, a silver lance, inlaid with ornate metal work that glowed softly in the dim candlelight, \"A lance that grants great power, but leads you to die on the field of battle.\" Then he turned to the last weapon on the table, a long sword inlaid with runes that flared with angry red, \"And a sword that grants great leadership, but will kill you from a decision that you make.\" \n\nHis eyes raised to meet mine, \"Which will you take?\"\n\nGavel simply stared at him, letting the silence draw out between them. The journey to this place had been long and arduous. Few enchanters remained, and those that did preferred seclusion from the affairs of men. They were lucky to possess the means to escape. To run from a world gone mad.\n\nGavel removed his cloak, exposing his scarred face to the candlelight and the man across the table from him. Many of the scars had faded to a white, though some still carried the angry piece of recency. \"Do you know who I am?\" He asked, his voice a rumbling baritone filled with the raspy gravel of years gone by.\n\nThe enchanter tilted his head to the side, \"You would not have been allowed to pass if I did not desire it Gavel Bonvil.\"\n\n\"Then you understand my need. Understand why I have come to this place, so far from my home and my family,\" the war torn man said.\n\n\"All people have their causes, I have remained because I have separated myself from such affairs.\" He paused and then pointed to the weapons, \"By offering you these, I become entangled again. Encumbered by the vices and horrors of what men do to each other.\" \n\n\"Why? Why allow me to come? I came because I had no choice. You chose to accept my presence here,\" Gavel said, his voice dropping to a whisper.\n\n\"I am old. Older than you can fathom. I have lived enough for ten men. Twenty. I have seen darkness come and go, flow and ebb like the tides.\" A certain fierceness entered his voice, bringing an edge to the melancholy that had colored it before. \"But this is different. This abyss. This blackness that consumes this land. It must be stopped.\"\n\nGavel nodded at this, his agreement absolute. He walked closer to the table, \"If you believe as you do, why does each gift exact so great a toll?\"\n\n\"To remind you that you are not god. That this power comes at a price. That all things end. That just because you are a champion against the darkness does not mean you cannot fall prey to it.\"\n\nGavel pointed to the bow, \"I will not take this. I will not accept power if it comes at those I hold dear.\"\n\nThe enchanter flicked his fingers, and the bow faded into a swirl of dust and then blew off of the table, \"Very well. The Heartbow is rejected.\"\n\nGavel looked between the lance and the sword, lost in thought. \"Both will cost me my life.\"\n\n\"They will.\"\n\nGavel reached a toned hand out toward the lance, \"I have fought many battles. I expect I will fight many more.\" \n\nThe enchanter looked down at the lance, \"You select the Strikelance?\"\n\nGavel shook his head, \"No. I do not. Our victory will be hollow if it does not lead us to justice. To wisdom. To truth.\" His reached out and rested his hand on the pommel of the blade. \"I have made my choice.\"\n\nThere was another moment of silence before the enchanter spoke again, \"The Truthblade will tell you right from wrong. It will tell you of justice. But, even if a choice is just does not mean it will save you. One day, a choice you make using the power of this blade will be your end.\" He took a long breath, \"Do you accept?\"\n\n\"I do.\" Gavel tightened his fingers around the hilt of the sword, feeling the weight of the blade settle into his hands.\n\n\"Very well Ser Gavel Bonvil, the choice is made and the boon is granted. I wish you success in your mission, this land surely needs it. What shall you do first?\"\n\n\"I shall return, traveling the path by which I came. Upon my return, I will begin the process of returning order to this land. Protecting it from the darkness today, tomorrow and for all time.\"\n\nThe enchanter raised a brow, \"Your life shall be short Gavel Bonvil, how will you safeguard the future?\"\n\nGavel pulled the sword up in front of his face, his eyes running along the length of the blade. \"A new order of knights. One that is dedicated to its people, to the golden heart that beats within this land, not to power or kings. Each shall swear an oath and spend their lifeblood honoring it. I am the first, but I will not be the last.\"\n\nGavel gripped the sword tightly, his knuckles going white, \"I am Gavel Bonvil, First of the Golden Order, and I am sworn.\"\n\nPlatypus out.\n\nWant MOAR peril?** r/PerilousPlatypus" ]	7
	[WP] You fall asleep at 23:00 and wake up in a cold sweat you check the time on your phone and it reads "Welcome to the 25th hour"	[ "Guard duty is always a thankless task, an endless endeavour that plagues any serviceman. But it must be done. And here I sit at the guard post, facing the camp gates, staring into the boundless sea that lies beyond and the dark sky floating above. It's a cloudy night; no stars, no moon. Realistically, it's late enough in the night for all camp personnel to have returned; lights out was already in effect. Yet, someone must still stay vigilant here.\n\nThis was no ordinary guard duty. First, it was on a Sunday. While my friends were having fun and clogging my Instagram Stories with short 5 second clips of assorted foods and restaurants, I was browsing Reddit trying not to succumb to boredom looking at emptiness. And we had just been through an extremely tiring week beforehand. Before I knew it, the physical and mental stresses had overcome whatever consciousness and mental resilience I had, and I followed the rest of the camp to sleep, against orders.\n\nI remember waking up in a cold sweat. Startled that I'd nod off so easily, I checked my phone for the time. Before I saw the familiar Star Wars wallpaper, a note appeared. It read \"Welcome to the 25th hour\". The 25th hour? 2500? Whatever that meant, something was off, and not in the resolvable way. I walked around the guard post. My partner was gone too. This was extremely uncharacteristic. Using the walkie-talkie to call the duty sergeant for help was similarly futile. Clearly, something unnatural was happening.\n\nI decided to walk around the camp. Perhaps there was some temporal rift where time itself stopped for me? Perhaps this was the time I needed to rest and find myself. The week was really so tough, and deep down I felt it was a little unfair that this duty was thrown to me now, as opposed to any other week. The familiar cookhouse, bunks... Wait. What was that noise from the parade square?\n\nOh no. Every single fellow trainee in push-up position, with the sergeants and officers screaming at them. I quickly joined them, but I knew that every single push-up, sit-up, among assorted exercises, was my own doing, for falling asleep at the guard post. Finally, the physical punishment ended, and the duty sergeant gathered everyone at the front of the parade square.\n\n\"Let this be a lesson to all: there are 24 hours in your day, and we know you need to sleep, but if you choose to sleep when you're meant to be on guard, we'll welcome you to the 25th hour.\"" ]	1
	[WP]in a future where genetic augmentation is normal and common you, after being blackout drunk, wake up having more appendages than you remember having yesterday	[ "At first, I thought it was just a tail. I mean, plenty of people have them. Some even have multiple. I never went in for this kind of thing, so I never expected to ever get a Change. \n\nI stumbled around the apartment, heading for the kitchen. The characteristic thirst of a hangover gnawed at my throat, but strangely, a nearly intense pain gnawed at my stomach. I was _starving_!\n\nI started out with a swig of orange juice as i looked at my new appendage. It wiggled due to some subconscious influence. My thirst assagued, I turned again to the fridge to look for something to eat. I found some leftover meatloaf a friend had made when she was over a few days ago. It looked amazing, for what reason I did not know or care. I grabbed the meatloaf and dumped it onto a plate to be microwaved. \n\nAs soon as I pushed the start button, my stomach tightened up with pain and growled. I doubled over and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I was treated with a closeup look at the end of my tail. It had two perpendicular creases intersecting on the tip. It was an ugly, hairless thing.\n\nI straightened up and jabbed the stop button on the microwave, yanking the door open and grabbing the meatloaf by its plate. I didn't have time for forks or knives. I just grabbed some in my hand and crammed it into my mouth. Chewing just enough to get it down, I swallowed. I felt it hit my empty stomach with a thud, but the hunger remained, just as intense. I kept eating messily trying to fill the aching black hole in my body, but the entire multiportion meatloaf disappeared without making a dent.\n\nI opened the fridge again and heard a complaining meow. My cat, a maine coon named Silvia, reluctantly cleared a path. I paid no attention. I looked into the fridge and saw a bag of baby carrots I had for packing my lunch. I grabbed them and opened the bag frantically, and started biting off half of the little orange stick and swallowing it with no ceremony.\n\nIt wasn't until I was halfway through the bag that my thoughts cleared and I realised three things. First, I was no longer hungry. Second, Silvia was nowhere to be found. And third, I didn't remember going drinking last night.\n\nI slowly turned my torso to look at my new appendage.\n\nIt had a large, twitching bulge in it. As I watched, it curved and pushed the bulge a little deeper into itself.\n\nA grey tail disappeared into my own." ]	1
	[WP] You work at a library unlike any other, anyone can come in and ask for any book they want, and it'll turn up. One day, a shipment comes in, a single book no one but you can read.	[ "Finally, Adam passes the book to you. Your pulse speeds up as you open it and you suck in a breath when you see words printed on the pages. \n\n“What? What does it say?” Hye-jin asks.\n\nYou skim the table of contents. Instead of chapters, there’s a list of ages. \n\nAge <1…Page 1 \n Age 1…Page 2 \n Age 2…Page 3\n\nSome have multiple pages assigned, others are only a single page long. The list ends at Age 24, which is on page 63, although the book is certainly longer than that.\n\n“I…I don’t know,” you tell her. “Hang on, let me flip to a chapter.”\n\nThe other librarians gather around you, even though the book is blank to them. As you flip to Age 19, you find not a story, but a list of names, both male and female. Some jump out at you immediately – names of people you had class with, people you worked with, people you knew from extracurriculars. Others are unfamiliar to you. \n\n“It’s just names,” you scoff. “People I know, or used to know.”\n\n“What, like a yearbook with no pictures?” Hye-jin laughs. “Great, put it in ‘reference.’”\n\n“I know what that is,” Florence cuts in, her reedy voice filled with recognition. “It’s a crush book. Why, there hasn’t been one of those here in years.”\n\n“A crush book?” you repeat.\n\nFlorence nods gravely. \n\n“It’s a list of everyone who’s ever had a crush on you.”\n\nYour heart stutters. Your fellow librarians chuckle lightly as you flip through the book again, this time perusing the names more closely. Now you notice the name of a girl from your high school calculus class that you thought was cute, the name of one of your TAs, the name of your friend’s older brother. \n\nYou flip to the chapter for Age 24, the birthday you celebrated only three months ago, right after you started working here. The list is short. One name jumps out at you immediately:\n\nAdam Napoli.\n\nSlowly, your cheeks burning, you look up at Adam. He stares back at you, his face crimson. \n\nFlorence winks.\n\n“I thought so,” she chuckles. ", "“Tom! Hey, Tommy!”\n\n“What?” Tom’s muffled voice sounded from behind the door leading to the restroom.\n\n“Come here for a second!” Maria’s voice was louder than the first time she yelled his name.\n\n“What? What?!” His voice clearer and clearer with every word he said.\n\nTom reached and opened the door leading to the central room of the library, where he saw Maria behind the large wooden desk at the entrance.\n\n“I took care of the new books yesterday. It is your turn today!” He walked slowly towards her, his voice loud and quite irritable.\n\n“Only one book came.” She answered calmly, as he reached the counter at the entrance of the library.\n\n“Lucky you!” He retorted, annoyed. “Then why the hell did you have to bother me?”\n\n“It says your name on the cover.” She turned the thick, light-brown leathered book toward him.\n\n‘Thomas Ogden’, the book read. It was the only thing that was depicted on the cover.\n\nThomas picked it up, his gaze examining every letter. He turned it around hesitantly. “It has no author.”\n\n“Yeah, I noticed. The receipt also showed no author.” She shoved a white paper in between him and his book.\n\nThomas looked briefly at the paper and moved it away from him. He then opened the book and scrolled through it quickly.\n\n“Oh, yeah. It’s empty… Did you order it? I didn’t know you were the kind of guy to –“\n\n“Are you kidding me?” He stopped her abruptly. “It’s not empty. See?” He opened the book at a random page, turned it sideways so they both could see and started reading the first line.\n\n“He never told his mother about that day. Thomas didn’t realize it until he was a bit older, but the man in the white van (Gerald Campedelli) was a known pedophile, whose victims were no less than 52 different children all across the country. The man was caught later that year.\n\nAs Thomas was running away from the unpleasant man – he fell and bruised his left leg, causing a bleeding.”\n\nThomas stopped, his memories returning back to him.\n\nMaria stared at him intently, “Tom… are you okay?”\n\n“What is this book? Who gave it to you?” He snapped at her.\n\n“The delivery guy.”\n\n“Which delivery guy? Nick? The one that always comes?” Urgency was heard in his voice.\n\n“Yes. Like every other day! Chill! You’re scaring me. Does it really say all this in there?”\n\n“Yes! Can't you read it?” He pointed at the pages with his whole hand, clearly seeing the black ink on the white piece of paper.\n\nThomas rolled back to a different page in the book and began reading again, his voice muffled, barely pronouncing all the words. “At his seventh birthday, Thomas wished for a giant set of Legos – one that was shown on TV. Or at least that’s what he told his parents. Secretly Thomas wished for the to stop…”\n\n“Can’t you see that?!” Thomas almost snapped at Maria.\n\n“No! What’s going on with you?”\n\nThomas quickly turned to another page and again began reading, even faster than before – “Playing on the field, Thomas moved swiftly and lightly. He was a scrawny kid, but could definitely kick the ball. After the third goal Thomas scored, the largest kid on the other team (Rodney Temmer), threw a rock at him, bruising his left eyebrow. Thomas did not let that slide – and retaliated with a ball to the face of Rodney, who did not like that at all. Thomas then ran together with his second best friend at the time (Marcus Lentz) to-”\n\n“This is impossible. No one can know all this about me.”\n\n“Wait, wait, wait. Everything you read… was about you?” Maria asked seriously.\n\n“Yes.” He answered quietly. “You really can’t see any of it?” He scrolled through the whole book once again, in front of her – looking for any reaction from her.\n\n“No, Tommy. Sorry.” Maria answered genuinely.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThomas spent the rest of his shift, reading past events from his life.\n\nHe showed the book to his father and younger brother, who didn’t see anything special about ‘A custom made diary with your name on it’. That’s what his father told him. He too did not see any writings in the book, and his father was not the type of person to prank or joke about anything, so Thomas dismissed that as an elaborate prank.\n\nThomas went to his room and spent the rest of the evening and some of the night reading and analyzing anything, any clue he could get of whom could possibly write this - There was no one who knew all of this about him, except for himself.\n\nThe last page, was that of the day before the book came, summarizing it perfectly and mentioning the key parts of his day. Like him \"Accidentally, but on purpose.\" - touching Maria's ass.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\n&#x200B;\n\nWhen the next day came, Thomas took the book with him to the library. Maria was already there.\n\n“I called you yesterday.” She paused, staring at him. “You didn’t pick up.” She waited for a reply.\n\n“Oh, yeah. Sorry. I forgot where I left my phone.” He patted all 4 pockets of his jeans, as if to prove it to her.\n\n“Well?”\n\n“Ahm… I’m sorry?”\n\n“I didn’t mean that. What did you find there? Do you know who sent you the book?”\n\n“No clue.” He answered frustratedly.\n\n“How does it end?”\n\n“It ends on yesterday. It has everything I’ve been through, up until yesterday.” He rubbed his tired eyes.\n\n“What are you going to do about it?”\n\n“I don’t –“\n\nHe was interrupted by Nick – the delivery guy, entering the front door with a small package. “Hey Maria, Tom. How are you guys?”\n\n“Fine.” Maria answered.\n\n“Hey Nick, can I ask you something?” Thomas asked directly.\n\n“Sure.”\n\n“Who sends you the packages? I mean – where do they come from?”\n\n“I pick them up every day from the warehouse.”\n\n“And where do they come to the warehouse, from?”\n\n“Hmm… From their respective suppliers. For example, yours…” He put the box on the counter and pulled out a sheet of paper. “Is… ‘Magic Paper’. That’s the name of the company.”\n\n“And where do they send this from?”\n\n“I don’t know. I’m just the delivery guy. Anyway, I’m in a bit of a hurry – so can you sign that you received that package?”\n\n“Sure.” Maria took the pen and signed.\n\n“Well, good day then.” Nick left hurriedly.\n\nThomas opened the box, and pulled out a single book from inside. It was a thick, darkish-brown leathered book. The book read – ‘Thomas Ogden’.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nEdit: Grammar and slight rewording.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEdit 2: Part II is in the comments below!" ]	2
	[WP] ...And that's why Chick-fil-A is now open on Sundays	[ "The man, known as Ron, was in charge of CFA's PR relations and media. He'd been well rewarded for his efforts to change the public perception of CFA from \"the fast food restaurant that hates gays\" to \"the place that you love so much, you wish it was open on Sunday.\"\n\nExcept now, that was all going to change. \n\nDan Cathy had taken over from his father several years ago, and had seen unprecedented success. CFA's success was through the roof, and it seemed that only a major scandal could end it.\n\nBut now that scandal was in front of them.\n\nDan Jr, who'd gone to Georgia Tech and officially worked in the marketing department, was the definition of a spoiled brat. Born into wealth and power, he had little ambitions in life and was more than happy to be a burden on the company, happy in knowing that he was untouchable. To complain about him to HR was tantamount to offering a resignation letter. \n\nRecently, Dan Jr had his eye on an attractive 22 year old who'd worked in accounting. And by worked, she was gone. Because she'd refused Dan's advances, he'd arranged for her to be blacklisted, and made miserable to the point where she was forced to resign. It seemed like nothing would happen, if not for the small inconvenient fact that this woman had secretly recorded the blackmail conversation.\n\nNow, this woman, known to Ron as \"Ms. A\", was in his office and had the multiple smoking guns placed in front of him. It was clear: this information went far beyond one harassment incident. It was a history of misogyny, corruption, and the opposite of ethics in a company that claimed to be rooted in Christian values. If it went public, it would make what happened to Enron look like child's play. And it was Ron's job to prevent that.\n\nRon, knowing he had no choice, resorted to negotiation. \"What do you want? Money? Your job back? You know what this would to to CFA it went public, and to the livelihoods of everyone who works for us or our franchises.\"\n\nMs. A was silent, deep in thought. Then she spoke.\n\n\"If you open your restaurants on Sundays, I would be inclined to let the matter slide.\"\n\nRon gulped. \"The Cathys would never agree to it.\"\n\n\"Then I guess this stack of papers is going to be mailed to CNN tomorrow. Your choice, I suppose.\"\n\nRon's face turned red. \"Ok, let me make some calls. I'll see what I can do...\"\n\n---\n\n\"And that's why CFA is now open on Sundays,\" said Paul Ryan as he and Donald Trump enjoyed CFA sandwiches in the Oval Office.\n\nTrump took another bite of his current sandwich and said, \"A shame. I need to tweet about this.\"\n\nRyan put a hand on the phone. \"It would be best if you didn't.\"\n\n\"You're such a whiner, you know that, Mr. Speaker?\"", "Manager's Log: May 18, 2066\n\nThe half price crispy nuggets were too powerful. I knew it was a bad idea to sell them, but we sold them anyway. At first, it was all great, they were flying out of the fryer. Business was better than it had been in years. But then we ran out. \n\nUsually, running out of a product isn't a big deal; we just order more and they come the next day. That wasn't the case with the nuggets. It started with protests, which turned to riots, which turned to a siege of the restaurant. We've been here for the last 26 hours, with no real hope of escape until the nuggets arrive.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nManager's Log: May 20, 2066\n\nIt's been four days since the siege began, and rumor has it that a shipment of crispy nuggets is on the way. However, with the way the public is behaving, who knows if the truck will even arrive. Reports are coming in of similar outbreaks of nugget fever across the US. There's been a state of emergency declared across the country, and trucks full of crispy nuggets are being escorted by the National Guard. So who knows? Maybe we'll be out of here soon.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nManager's Log: May 22, 2066\n\nWe've made contact with the truck! It's on its way! Our trapped staff celebrated the upcoming end of our nearly week long shift, but I knew it wasn't over yet. The truck is set to arrive tomorrow morning. Sunday morning. The number one rule at Chick-Fil-A has always been to never open on Sundays. As the leader of our motley crew of loyal Chick-Fil-A employees, I decided to put the decision to a vote. It didn't go well. Half the restaurant wanted to serve the great Chick-Fil-A dynasty proudly and uphold the ever sacred rule, but others wanted to escape our prison of a restaurant by opening the doors and giving the people what they wanted. It was the ultimate choice for me between customer satisfaction and company loyalty. In the end, I followed the rule my great granny, a fast food veteran under the esteemed General Tso, always told me: \"The customer is always right.\" So I'm sorry I couldn't be better, Chick-Fil-A, and I hope I won't get discharged for this. And that's why Chick-Fil-A is now open on Sundays. " ]	2
	[WP] You have a rare disorder called HTS, Half-Time Syndrome, which means you are experiencing life about 2 times slower than the rest of the world. Explain what struggles this brings with it.	[ "\"So, you move faster than a normal person?\"\n\n\"No, everything seems slower for me than it is for you, my own movement included.\"\n\nIt's the first week of freshman year. The first week, and I'm already dealing with the same damn questions. Whether it's elementary or high school, the curiosity of the students must be satiated. If anything, the older they are, the more questions they're able to come up with.\n\n\"It's called Half-Time Syndrome, meaning that I experience everything at half the rate it would for those who don't have it. Yes, the name is that simple. Yes, so far I seem to be a unique case, though others might have it without realizing it. No, I don't find it weird, this is how it's always been for me.\"\n\nGood thing I already memorized my lines. Short and concise, that should definitely speed this up.\n\n\"If it's normal to you, then how did they discover it?\"\n\n\"Movies. Since they're basically just a really fast slideshow of images, you get the illusion of real movement. That illusion doesn't fully work on me, unless they at least double the frames per second from what the standard is.\"\n\nOf course, there's more to it than just the visual aspect, but I'd rather not delve into it. I just want this interrogation to end. It's not the first time I've gone through this, and it won't be the last either.\n\n\"Interpolation, or the director could film it at a higher frame rate from the get-go, though that could compromise their vision. You know what, I'll make sure to think of you when I make my own films. Have them offer a high FPS version in the menus or something.\"\n\n\"I, uh, thanks.\"\n\nI guess he's not so bad.\n\n\"How about mentally? Are you able to solve math questions faster than a calculator?\"\n\n\"What? No, though I guess I understand why you'd say that. Brain activity are still electric signals, and they're not faster as a result of HTS. I experience everything slower, but it still takes me some time to come up with an answer.\"\n\n\"So, you're just like everyone else in these halls?\"\n\n\"Exactly. Even if there are negatives, as with the movies, there are ways around it. Everything can be adapted.\"\n\nInteresting... He wants to be filmmaker when he's older, and he does seem passionate about it. I feel like an ass for trying to speed this conversation along. I should ask him for some recommendations on what to watch.\n\n\"Anyway, do you have any... Oh sorry, you look like you're in a hurry.\"\n\n\"Yeah, my friend is waiting for me. We live in the same apartment building, down by the mall.\"\n\n\"Hey, I live in that direction too, though not that far.\"\n\n\"Cool, maybe we'll bump into each other sometime. Sorry though, I gotta go or else he'll complain the whole way home.\"\n\n\"Okay, see y... bye\"\n\nWhat was that? Oh yeah, that's right, the same damn questions, that's all it was. I wonder what satiated him? Was it learning that there were no special abilities, or that he didn't need to pity me that much?\n\n\"Hey there freshman. Excuse me if I'm too intrusive, but if there's anything I can do to help. Oh, sorry, it's just that I hear-\"\n\n\"It's called Half-Time Syndrome, meaning that I experience everything at half the rate it would for those who don't have it. Yes, the name is that simple. Yes, so far I seem to be a unique case. No, I don't find it weird. I'm physically and mentally just as fast as the average person. Watching movies is how...\"" ]	1
	[WP] How forgetting to buy cereal ended in a nuclear strike	[ "\"So hungry\" Jane said. Her stomach grumbled as if in reply. \n\nJane looked again in the cupboard. No cereal had materialized there in the thirty seconds since the last time she looked. Her husband Tom was supposed to buy some When he came home from work. Jane rolled her eyes as she thought of the excuses he would use when she yelled at him this evening.\n\"Oh, work was too distracting, I forgot.\" or \"I lost track of time at work and wanted to get back to see you\" yeah right. As if working at a warehouse was so exciting anyway. Have ought to call him at the office right now. Yesterday she secretly changed his ring tone to an air raid siren and turned the volume to full. Let's see him ignore that.\n\nTom clenched his hands as he watched the monitor inside the bunker of the top secret naval station.\n\"Sir, the enemy has activated their targeting radars. They may be preparing to strike.\" the young analyst beside him said.\n\"I see that. They do that from time to time. We have to be careful though. They may try a sneak attack.\n\nThe young analyst looked at Tom.\n\"We won't really do it, though, right? I mean, the jets are armed with nuclear missiles. If we order them up, we could start world war 3\"\n\"No,\" Tom said. The enemy knows we have them. They're just bluffing. We're only here for assurances. That big red button, don't push it unless the alarms go off.\"\n\"This button here? The one to launch the nuclear armed jets?\"\n\"Yes, that one\" Tom said as he watched the analyst put his hands around the button, almost in awe.\n\nAn klaxon went off, filling the room with noise. It took Tom several seconds to figure out what was going on. He pulled out his phone and sighed.\n\"I'm sorry I forgot the cereal. I'll get some on the way home.\" he said with the phone too his ear.\nHis wife started yelling into the phone.\nTom said \"I'm sorry about the cereal. It's not the end of the world.\"\nWhen no reply came, he added \"I love you\".\n\"We'll talk about that when you get home with the cereal.\" she replied and hung up.\n\nTom sighed again. He put his phone back in his pocket and turned to the analyst. The analyst who was now as white as a ghost and looked like he had seen one too. Tom noticed his monitor was filled with red warning lights. He looked again at the analyst, then down at the depressed red button. \"You didn't...\"" ]	1
	[WP] Describe waves to a blind person.	[ "The lights... they shone with such intensity...\n\nI couldn’t look away... they forced me to continue. \n\nI understood then that I was looking upon the truth that I had wrongfully sought. \n\nIt was too much to bear...\n\nWaves upon waves of force and shining rays, rippling my body and distorting my mind. \n\nI don’t remember much after that, but what I do know is that whatever I’d seen had changed me. \n\nIt broke me. I can no longer see anything else but that immeasurably filled immensity. \n\nI open my eyes but I can no longer see the world. \n\nI can only gaze upon the inside of myself. \n\nThe gate blinded me, and I can still feel it’s waves." ]	1
	[WP] You are a person who is trying to write a book working at a book store and every day the same other person comes into the store. One day they tell you they’re looking for a story and when you ask what story they say they’re looking for your story	[ "And then the spider Ishakahn strode down on gossamer thread from the ceiling. Brushing his forelegs together, the vibration of tiny hair follicles mimicked spoken word. \"A brave one you must be, child, for I--\n\nThe bell at the front door rings, and I look up from the lined paper of my notebook to see someone walking into the shop. \"Welcome to Blair's Book Bazaar,\" I say in my cheeriest tone.\n\nThe young man who walked in has a backpack thrown over his shoulder, and the sides of his hair are buzzed short with the top kept long and dyed bright blue--just like his eyes. I've seen him in the shop before, everyday of the last week now that I think about it. Barring Sunday, of course, but we're closed.\n\nIt isn't like he hasn't been looking around the shop, either. But each time he's left here, it's been empty-handed. \n\nI set my pencil down on the counter, and drop down from the stool and softly walk behind him. He's perusing a section of shelves that I know he's looked through before. I clear my throat, and he turns to look at me.\n\n\"Can I help you?\" I ask, smiling, and he looks at me and back at the shelves.\n\n\"Sorry, I'm--I've been looking for a book, and I can't seem to find it, but it should be here.\"\n\n\"Can you tell me the title of it, or the author's name? I might be able to look it up for you.\"\n\nHe clicks his tongue and shakes his head. \"That's part of my problem. I don't know the title of the book, or even who wrote it. I just know what it's about.\"\n\nI bite my lip. That presents a problem. \"I might be able to look for it if you know enough of the details to put into the search system. Let me grab my notebook from the desk and I'll write down what you know, okay?\"\n\nI make my way back to the front, and grab the notebook and pencil and walk back towards him. He smiles when he sees the notebook in my hands.\n\n\"You guys are really hands on in this shop, huh? Anywhere else I might've gone they would've just told me to Google it.\"\n\n\"Well, we pride ourselves on our customer service here.\" I flip the page in my notebook, feeling an itch in the back of my brain seeing the unfinished sentence at the end of the page. Ishakahn is about to dangle Juntos above his web, and it's the perfect moment to call back to how Juntos' father dangled him over the edge of the river as a child.\n\n\"Did you get any of that?\" the man asks, and I feel my face burn hot as I shake my head. \"Sorry, I was thinking about something else.\"\n\nHe seems a little irritated, but he takes a deep breath. \"I'm looking for a story about a boy who goes on this quest of self-discovery. He's been alone his entire life, and doesn't remember his name--so he names himself \"Together\" because he doesn't want to be lonely anymore. Along the way, he encounters a giant spider who is both a threat and a father figure to him.\"\n\nA chill runs up my spine, because that's exactly how I would have described my book when I started writing it. And maybe my problem was that I was too focused on telling family and friends what I was writing rather than letting the book speak for itself.\n\n\"Alright, who put you up to this?\" I close the notebook defiantly, and place it across my lap. \"Was it Jericho? Are you one of the kids who works with my mom at the grocery store?\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\" the man asks, and he looks taken aback as he moves away from me.\n\n\"I know I talk about my book a lot, but I've only ever told friends and family, so which one of them put you up to this, hmm? Is this supposed to be a prank, telling me I've been writing for too long and I should move on? Or maybe they think I'm going to give up, like I did piano and lacrosse?\"\n\n\"Miss, I--I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.\"\n\n\"That's a--lie, and you know it!\" I manage to shop myself from cursing, but I can feel the anger boiling under my skin. \"See this?\" I say, lifting the notebook and pulling it open to a random page. \"I've been writing the exact book you described for the past year!\"\n\nHe stares meekly at the words on the page, and his eyes start welling up with tears. \"Oh, my god. It's--it's you. I had no idea. You wrote this? You're Maria Hernandez, of course!\" He reaches his hand out to touch the notebook, almost reverent about it. He's scaring me, so I quickly pull the notebook back.\n\n\"Sorry, it's just--I read that book all the time as a kid, and now I've seen where it came from with my own eyes.\" He wipes away tears with his fingers, and I just stand there confused because it doesn't seem like his words are real.\n\nHe steps forward suddenly, and wraps his arms around me. \"Keep writing, okay? I absolutely love that book--it's one of the best things about my childhood. A-and, use a pen--your words deserve more conviction. After all, that's part of Juntos' journey, right?\"\n\nHe releases me, and my notebook falls to the ground. I reach down to pick it up, but when I come back up he's gone. Vanished, without a trace.\n\nWho was he? Am I going crazy?\n\n&#x200B;", "I worked at a book store. During my free time, I would work on my comic book project. The project was quite important to me, but I don't expect it to get as popular as say Superman. As I am about to draw in the next frame, one of my regulars walks in the door.\n\n\"Hey, Jared\" I greet him.\n\n\"Oh, hey, Brooke.\" He replies back. \"I'm looking for a comic book.\"\n\n\"What's the title?\"\n\n\"The Past Happened\"\n\nI gasped. That was the name of the very comic book I was working on. It wasn't even close to being finished yet and I hadn't posted progress pictures on my social media profiles. I stood in my place as I wondered how he would've known this.\n\nSuddenly, the old cuckoo clock behind the counter chimed, and the hands began spinning faster and faster and faster...\n\nI find myself in a huge building, with large clocks and framed comic books lining the walls. I notice I'm wearing a suit as with all of the other people here. There also appears to be many tourists staring in from the outside of the building throught glass windows. I walk to one of the framed comic books and inspect it.\n\n\"The Past Happened. The world's best-selling comic! Dinosaur Disaster - Issue 349. Special issue! $20\"\n\nSuddenly one of the suited men, with a name tag that says \"Jared, Storyboard Artist\", approaches me.\n\n\"So, Miss Brooke, as president and chief artist of The Past Happened Comics Incorporated, what shall be the plot of Issue 1,548?\"", " \n\nThey say that if you keep practicing that you’re supposed to get better at something. Bullshit. I’ve tried to write the next paragraph for the last two weeks but nothing seems to come up. You would think that after attempting and deletings the next few sentences that something would eventually stick, or I would at least let some half-decent crap slide through instead of torturing myself stuck on this page. Or even, god forbid, that something actually good might come out of my brain and stick itself onto the page. But each entry seems less and less coherent as I go. \n\nI started working at a bookstore thinking that it would be a dream come true. That I would have to look no further than across the room to find a new source of inspiration. That this bookstore would be known later as my bookstore, where the illustrious Arthur Wright penned the next great American novel. Instead it felt as though the shelves mocked me. I could feel the presence of thousands of dead authors judging me from above. With each immovable block, such as this one, I look around the room and see not inspiration, but all the words I cannot find. It is truly maddening. I feel trapped by the presence of superior authors, hopeless. \n\nThen this asshole walks in. \n\nI have to prevent myself from groaning audibly. The small part of my brain that’s still civil tries to tell the rest that there’s no reason to pin my bad mood onto this poor soul. Most of it is too busy deciding that he interrupted what would have been the perfect next sentence by his presence. \n\nSo I glare. \n\nSometimes the glare is enough to make them turn awkwardly around. It’s a small shop, and an unfriendly face can do wonders for business (my personal business, not the store’s). But this guy seemed not to notice. Instead he meandered around the store, looking at this shelf and that. His grubby fingers pawing the books like a drunken pervert. I could almost feel the sausage links attached to his hand ruining the crisp paper. Of course he remained indecisive. He would pick up a book, defile it, and place it back on the shelf, where I would have to wipe it down. \n\nOh dear god he’s heading for me. \n\nIt’s bad enough when a customer comes in, bad enough that their presence ruins my artistic flow, but the worst is when they ask for help. They’re shelves not encrypted files. If you can’t see the author then you’re either blind or illiterate. And I can’t do much for an illiterate in a bookstore. Too late, he had already reached the desk. \n\nOn a better day, when I’d gotten some decent writing done and felt the momentum of the story was building nicely, I might not have thought much about his wart-ridden, mangled nose, or the grease building on his second chin. This wasn’t a better day. \n\nHe just stood, waiting for me to take notice of him. I briefly wondered how long I could have kept him there, pretending to be oblivious to his existence. His humid mouth breathing, however, eventually forced my hand. \n\n“How can I help you sir.” It wasn’t a question. Again the small (and quickly diminishing) part of my brain told me that I would hate to be served by someone like this. That being rude served no purpose, and if anything, would only prolong his activity here. The rest of my brain told it to shut up. \n\n“Hi there!” How dreadfully cheery his voice was, “I was wondering if you could help me find a book?”\n\nIn a bookstore? Gee, I wonder.\n\n“What’s the name of the book?”\n\n“I’m not totally sure… I think it’s called…” The worst. What the hell do you think your chances of finding a book are if you don’t know the name. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Luckily, dumb and ugly over here was still knotting his eyelids in concentration. But that reminds me, I should start to try and find a title for my novel. It’s nowhere near complete but maybe at least a working title could help me figure out where to go next. Well, what could it be? Suffering Artist? No too subtle. Finding work? Bleh, too boring…\n\n“... it’s called Searching for Art.” \n\nSomething clicked deep within my subconscious. I could feel his words resonate and echo throughout me. I knew with utmost certainty that that was it. It felt almost as though I could see the cover. Not too gaudy, a simple silhouette with the title scrawled neatly above. Just as bizarrely, I could feel the story unfold. It felt as though I could flick through the pages as I saw them. The details were unwritten, the dialogue yet to be spoke, but still there. Present. As though all I had to do was uncover them. The character grew as well. I began to realize where he was going and why. He wasn’t simply an artist struggling to make his way, he was a person trying to become an artist. Arthur had been handed everything. Initially I had written that to make the character someone enviable, rich, privileged. A highly educated man, meant to be a gifted polymath searching for the right inspiration. But flicking through the phantom book, I could see that he was deeper. It wasn’t that his upbringing meant he was an artist, it was what prevented him. His many resources meant that he hadn’t suffered as he believed a true artist should. \n\nArthur was searching for the right suffering, was sabotaging his wealth and his relationships in a devastating self-destruct. Any hope of happiness was being dashed as he unconsciously ruined himself in search of suffering. \n\n“Hello?” \n\nThe guy was still there. I snapped to attention and saw him in a new light. The warts and blemishes seemed less prominent, his girth and rolling flesh was still there, but now seemed more jolly than disgusting. I stared in amazement, it was definitely the same person, but transformed. As though before he was a stranger but now some close friend. \n\n“That book… it’s… that book’s not out yet…” I somehow managed to tumble the words out. \n\n“Ah damn..” He gave me a smile. “Well, hopefully it’ll be on the shelves soon eh?” I thought I saw a quick conspiratorial wink, but I couldn’t be sure. \n\nIt was all I could do to nod. He touched two fingers to his forehead in a sort of friendly salute and walked towards the door. He walked in a sort of two step, as though he were dancing to some unheard tune. \n\nThen the store was empty again. \n\nI stared down at the empty screen of my laptop, and got to work. ", "Two Cats Book-Recycling was a quaint place to work, a good place to pick up cute dorky guys, and the perfect place to work on my novel. On weekdays there were always a few hours I could write. Sometimes if I was lucky an entire day could go by where no customer needed help and I could spend the entire day drafting. I try to work on one project at a time, but I’m easily distracted, often working on four or five different projects. Lately though, one project was garnering all my attention.\n\nTuesday was a perfect day to write. It was raining. Soft droplets of water flittered against the windowed storefront creating a rhythm to which I typed on my laptop. Enveloped by the corduroy beanbag chair between the science fiction and religious history aisles, I typed to the beat. Lucy turned a corner, saw me, and laid at my feet with a contented purr. The store was completely empty, just me and the thousands of books which were packed into every crevice. \n\nTuesday was a perfect day to write. \n\nAs I wrote I transformed the landscape around me in my mind. No longer was I in Two Cats Book-Recycling, now I was aboard spaceship 7w0-c475. Glowing panels lined the walls giving directions to a distant quadrant of space. Anyone who could read the Neutral Galactic Alphabet could see where we were headed, Sector ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha. \n\nSurrounded by technology from the future, the only part of the real world that remained in this fantasy were the books. The books were important, the books were the point. Spaceship 7w0-c475 was a modified shipping vessel, used to carry Earthling books to distant parts of the galaxy. Books lined every inch of the vessel, a single book was more valuable than the ship itself. \n\nI had been working on this story for months now. It started off with a simple idea, ‘What if aliens were farming us for art?’ I grew the story from that initial seed. The main character is a female space captain who goes rouge and starts smuggling books. She steals them so she can give them to the impoverished outer rim of the galaxy. When the idea first came to me I loved it so much that I wrote straight through the night, zero sleep, no breaks. I only managed four pages, but they were the best four pages I had ever written.\n\nLately though I was getting bored of the story. Just a little bit. It took me longer to get into the rhythm of writing it than it used to, and I could feel it coming, I needed to write something else or I would get bored and never finish the story. Just a two or three week break, that’s all I needed. Just a change of format, maybe I would write a short story next. \n\nI was editing the first sentence of the book when I was interrupted by a man in a bowler hat and skinny jeans.\n\n“Do you have ‘Art World’?” \n\nHe spoke so suddenly I jumped, and I’m embarrassed to say that somehow the shock of his voice made me burp. I struggled to form a response for a moment or two. His face was kind. He was a younger man, maybe in his mid twenties, dressed very strangely. He had an old mans hat, a young mans shirt, a teenagers pants, and the shoes of a toddler. He was wearing light up Sketchers, and he was surprisingly dry for having come out of the rain.\n\n“I-I-I didn’t hear you come in! Sorry, I just took a break, let me get up, I’ll help you find it.” I struggled out the words as I struggled to get out of the beanbag chair. If you’ve ever had to sit in a beanbag chair you can sympathize.\n\nThe man reached his hand out, I took it, and he helped me up. He was surprisingly strong for someone so thin. We exchanged an awkward smile as I went over to the front desk to place my laptop down. \n\n“I like that thing, what is that? A cat or a dog?” He said. \n\n“Thats a rare animal called a bookstore cat, her name is Lucy. There's another one somewhere around here. What’s the name of the book you’re looking for?” I said.\n\n“It’s called ‘Art World’. It should have come out today, I’m looking for a first edition copy, maybe even signed. For my collection.” He spoke with a touch of humor in his voice, as if he were making a joke. His top lip curled up when he formed the words.\n\n“Okay.” I searched our system for ‘Art World’ but couldn’t find anything. \n\n“I can’t find it, but if it’s a new release we wouldn't have it anyway, because twe mostly carry used books. Sometimes we have new books but only if it’s by Stephen King or John Green.” I said.\n\n“Oh I see.” He didn’t look very disappointed.\n\n“Do you know the author’s name? I could search based on that.”\n\n“I actually don’t remember her name off the top of my head.” He shrugged as he spoke.\n\n“You don’t have a phone you could look it up on?” I said.\n\n“I don’t have a phone, no. Maybe I could describe the book to your computer and it could search based on that.” He smiled.\n\n“Oh yeah! That would work.” I layered the sarcasm on as thickly as I could, guys love it when you make fun of them. And I was beginning to think I had the hots for this guy. He was weird, but in an unassuming, unintentional way.\n\n“Okay here goes;” He spoke and leaned closely to the computer.\n\n“Wait are you serious?” I couldn’t help but laugh at him, but he didn’t seem phased in the least.\n\nHe continued to speak. “The book is about, well, it’s about earth.”\n\n“Most books are.” I said, I was beginning to think maybe this guy was a little, well, gifted.\n\n“Right… Most Earth books are about Earth. But in this book Earth is a factory, a factory where they make-”\n\n“-Light up Sketchers for adults!” I interrupted and winked at him.\n\n“No, a factory where they make art. The entire planet is an art producer for aliens.” He winked back, but with no eyebrow or head movement. Just one of his eyelids closed and then opened on it’s own.\n\nMy heart started to beat.\n\n&#x200B;" ]	4
	[WP] At the end of a long and dangerous journey you face the last threat. Before you stands a knight in old armor. You begin to fight and his fighting style reminds you of an enemy you killed long ago, because he wanted to make the world a "better place". Between sorrow and anger you keep fighting	[ "“What truely drives you?” The suit growls. It’s rusty hinges protesting against every movement the figure makes.\n\n“Perhaps now we will both learn.” Another taunt. The suit readies it’s fighting stance and you do as well. This will not be an easy battle.\n\nThe suits use of the twin axes it brandishes is unparalleled by any foe you have faced before. Despite the rust covering it, the figure inside moves like fire, striking anytime they see an opening.\n\n“Do you truely believe you are doing good?” The suit taunts. You don’t understand, hundreds of foes before this one have tried the same tactic and failed. How is it that the suit is succeeding?\n\nYou manage to hit the suit with one of your spells. It launches the figure to the ground. Satisfied, you move to unmask your adversary.\n\n“You can’t think that spell was enough to kill me.” The suit rasps as it rises from the ground, “I have dealt with Rabbits who hit harder.”\n\nThat spell was enough to kill the Shadow King! It obliterated the Fiend of Three Faces! How could this person just shrug it off!?\n\nAs your fight continues, you start to recognize the movements of the suit. You see the chains conneting the axes to the wrists. You remember the only person who ever used that style.\n\n“You are starting to remember.” The suit laughs. “I am surprised it took you this long, Eli.”\n\nThat sealed it. Only one person had the gall to call you Eli. You killed them when they betrayed Destiny.\n\n“You are not Syrus. Whatever mockery of Destiny’s web gave you life I will destroy!”\n\n“Do you truely believe that? Are still blind to Destiny’s schemes? You are beyond hope. You are beyond saving. Goodbye Eli.”\n\nAnd with that, the final battle began" ]	1
	[WP] The Tower of Kings is said to contain a gift left from the gods on its top floor. Dying inside the tower ejects climbers (called Pawns) and marks them so they may never climb again. No one has made it to the top but Pawns that cross the 50th floor become "Rooks" who teach new Pawns.	[ "I entered the tower, had been training in the rook camp for more than a year, I was ready. I came to the tower by fortune, becauseI managed to find the missing son of the major in the forest, and I got a poch of gold in exchange. I sold everything I had to come.\n\nThe bishops (the ones who reached above the 75th) had given me their approval, and stated that it was a proper time to enter, among other things, because Jupiter aligned with the spirelike top, usually covered by black clouds common in the region. However, they said that in this time of the year no one should enter in a group. Groups were uncommon, because they usually die faster than loneclimbers.\n\nI entered through the door into a room without any other entrances, however, as I reached the center the whole room started descending into the ground. as I had seen countless times other people do before me. On the way down I couldn't avoid looking at the smalll bottle of poison on my pocket... because sometimes people don't die, and therefore they are stuck forever int its grasp, that's why I carried the poison\n\nOnce it settled, I saw a familiar puzzle in front of me. This onewas the one that I had practiced the most. Left, up, right, up, and back down. The door opened and revealed the true insides of the tower of kings, the one of the countless rooms, the heart of the unknown, the contraption the whole world dreamed about entering.\n\n\\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nEnd of part one, thenk you for reading!" ]	1
	[WP] An experimental drug has been released that will reverse all damage done to a human body, you are part of a group that is allowed to take the medicine to regrow a limb. You soon notice that you’re growing wings and horns.	[ "\"Was one of the ingredients demon blood? Yes, but consider how it benefited you. You have two legs again!\"\n\n\"I liked my handicap parking. Plus, kids didn't run screaming at the sight of me. Just so I don't get any more surprises, why don't you tell what else was in the drug.\"\n\n\"Ok, it was all demon blood. All of it. Alright? You happy?\"\n\n\"I had a priest throw holy water on me. And it gave me a rash. I am not happy.\"\n\n\"Ok, fair enough. Hey, you want to try our experimental horn removal cream?\"\n\n\"Do I even want to know what that's made of?\"\n\n\"Let me check allergies, aaaand...you're fine. Nothing to worry about.\"\n\n\"No yeti liver or anything in it?\"\n\n\"Uh... I can assure you there is no liver in this cream.\"\n\n\"Ah, screw it. I'll take it. Keeps life interesting.\"" ]	1
	[wp] No one wants to play Videogames with you anymore. Desperate for company, you decided to summon Demons from the Underworld. After all, they're supposed to be quite decent fellows these days, right?	[ "Ulkhe'zok the Ravager relished moments like these. His black eyes glowed fiercely and his maw of fangs curled into a grotesque smile as he reveled in the cacophony of combat. The sound of bones splintering against stone. The crimson pools of blood gathering on the ground beneath his victim. The cries of anguish from those he mercilessly destroyed. \n\n\"Oh, come on! Stop move-spamming, Zok!\" Paul shouted from his seat next to the demon. The shaggy-haired twenty-eight year-old punched the Ravager's shoulder; making sure to avoid the black spikes that pierced Ulkhe'zok's rust-colored hide. The demon merely laughed at the man's lamentations, as the game proclaimed his victory: Scorpion Wins! *Fatality!* \n\nAs much as Paul complained at the cheap tactic, his smile showed that he didn't really mind it. He'd just have to switch back to a character he actually knew how to play. Besides, he can't fault Zok for not learning the combos; the controllers were much too small for the demonic conqueror's huge hands. \n\nThe two fighters went back to the character selection screen while sharing the usually smack-talk, when they both were startled. Ding-dong went Paul's doorbell. Ulkhe'zok paused the game, and the two share a concerned look.\n\n\"Who dares intrude upon our weekly contest, Son of Wil?\" The Ravager asked; not-so-subtly reaching for his battleaxe that rested by the couch. The obsidian ax glinted menacingly under the lights in the ceiling.\n\n\"I don't know, Zok.\" Paul answered with a panicked note to his voice. He always made sure that his schedule was clear for their game nights. It couldn't be his neighbors. He had soundproofed his basement well before he summoned the demon for the first time. Paul took out his phone to check the video feed from the camera by his front door, and paled.\n\n\"Fuuuuuuuck...\" The man said as he put his hand over his face. Of all the people it could have been, it had to be her. Ulkhe'zok peered over Paul's should to see who interrupted their game.\n\n\"Who is that woman, mortal? I shall rip her to pieces for her insolence!\" The demon asked; putting down the game controller.\n\n\"N-NO!\" Paul quickly responded. \"I mean, no, Zok, it's fine. Her name's Angela, and she's in a few of my Master's classes with me. Just... give me a few minutes, and we can get back to our games. Alright?\"\n\nThe Slayer of a Hundred Kings slowly put down his weapon, and nodded once as he crossed his arms. \"Do not test my patience, Son of Will. I demand more offerings for this disruption!\" \n\nPaul sighed inwardly, and got up to go answer the door. \"I'll grab you another beer, and some more steak. You want a lager, or a sour?\" he asked as he ascended.\n\n\"Fetch me the sour, mortal! With haste!\"\n\nPaul took a mental note of the order, and started toward the door. His unexpected arrival knocked again just as he opened the door. He stood in the small opening to prevent her from looking inside. \"Heya, Angela. What's up?\"\n\n\"Hi, Paul,\" Angela replied; sheepishly tucking a stray lock of her long brown hair behind her ear. She held out a book to him, and smiled softly. \"Thanks again for letting me borrow your book. I finally got mine in the mail, figured I'd return it so you can finish up the paper for next week.\"\n\nPaul took his book back without trying to seem like he was trying to finish the interaction as quickly as possible. \"N-no problem!\" He said as he put it on the table by the door. Awkward silence fell over the pair, as Angela shifted her weight from side to side.\n\n\"So... are you busy?\" she asked finally. \"There's a new bar downtown that a few of my friends have told me about. I was thinking of checking it out.\"\n\n\"Is... is she? Oh shit! She's asking me out!\" Paul thought to himself. He hoped he didn't look like a deer in headlights as he stood there. \"I, uh, I'm a little busy right n-.\" Paul stopped mid-sentence as he heard bottles clinking from behind him; Zok was to be going through the fridge for another beer. He shut the door more to desperately prevent his crush from seeing the seven foot tall Destroyer of Hope grabbing another sour. \"M-my brother is in town! We're having a guys night. You know: beer, pizza, violent games.\"\n\nAngela's tried to steal a glance inside at the noise, but couldn't see beyond the nervous man in front of her. She looked back at Paul apologetically. \"I'm so sorry! I'll let you get back to your fun,\" she said. \n\nPaul nodded in thanks, and started to closed the door. \"Maybe another time. See you later!\" he said as he shut the door before she could reply. \n\nThe man slumped to the floor, and sighed in relief as he closed his eyes. Heavy footfalls and creaking floorboards told him that Ulkhe'zok was leisurely walking toward him, but the demon stopped a few feet away. \"See? Not a problem.\\~\" Paul said. \n\nWhen the demon didn't respond, he started to get worried. Paul opened his eyes to look at The Demolisher of a Thousand Citadels, and paled yet again. Ulkhe'zok was holding a beer in either hand, and staring out the window by the door. Paul had forgotten to close the curtains, and Angela stared back at The Profane Annihilator; petrified in fear.", "The Hell Company office was always hot. With hell fires right outside the building it had to be. A bulking red demon, ram like horns protruding from the top of his head sat bolt upright, looking down with his eyes at the paperwork in his hand, his spare hand lifting his glasses up and down to get them in focus.\n\nWith a click the grand doors at the opposite side of the room opened, Sophia elegantly walked into the room. Her blue jeans were charred at the joints, as was her denim jacket. “Brave look,” Dave said, “Denim on denim.”\n\n“Dark denim on light denim, it’s the in thing.” Sophia walked to the table and took out an envelope from the inside of her jacket, placing it on the stone table. Her pincers clicked with anticipation. “So, Sophia, how are things?” Dave said reaching for the orange envelope, breaking the red wax seal.\n\n“Things are great, my boyfriend’s buying an apartment in Paris,” she said excitedly.\n\n“Oh, that’s exciting! You got to go see the Louvre, a few of the artists are living here.”\n\n“What you’re looking at now is the paperwork you were after,” Sophia said, Dave looked at them at arm’s length tilting his head down trying to get them in focus.\n\n“Ah, yes, just as I thought,” he said finally placing them on the table, “new residents have dropped dramatically over the last centuries.” Ever since Heaven Corp, Hell Companies competitor, created a negative campaign spreading lies in the mortal realm, far less people have chosen to live in Hell. “It really is a pity,” Sophia said with a sigh, “but I have a plan on how we can fix it!” Dave watched her patiently with a small smile.\n\nThe room was dimly lit through the large back window, waves of orange and red light sliding over Dave’s skin and into the room. “What we’ll do is create our own PR campaign, we’ll hire some actors to tell a rural American our mission and that he should go preach it for some reason or another,” Sophia said rolling her pincers in the air. “The mission being that Hell is a great option for those fond of warm climates, and that our staff are summonable for any helping need. From cleaning to just company.”\n\n“Perfect,” Dave announced, “I believe in you Sophia, you’re the perfect demon for the job! We can talk about the specifics later…” Sophia smiled and bowed her head slightly. “Barry!” a small demon stuck his head into the room from behind the door, “bring in some drinks would you. Thank you!” Dave announced with a booming voice that seemed to bounce around the room.\n\n---\n\nThis was a fun prompt to right for, gave me the chance to work on dialogue and a novel concept. Thanks for posting! Would love some feedback on the story; the good, the bad, the ugly." ]	2
	[WP] You wake up on the back of a horse and cart, hands bound, being transported through the beautiful Skyrim scenery to your beheading.	[ "\"Chin up lad...\" The coachman said cheerfully, turning back with a widening grin as the cart jolted over the roughshod terrain. \"Or 'twill be, once yer 'ed falls top down in t' mud!\" He guffawed.\n\nGregor groaned and wished, somehow, for this nightmare to end.\n\nYesterday, he'd been minding his own, working the sawmill in his home village of Riverwood. The shaft of the waterwheel drove the machines of his trade, its cyclical motion setting the rhythm of the day with a pattern, almost musical, of scraping and clattering as the saw bowed endlessly back and forth rending mighty tree trunks into ten planks each.\n\nAs he fancied, he whistled throughout the day, sometimes breaking into scraps of folk songs he'd heard in the taverns, reminiscing on the maids he'd courted frequently and rarely won. He'd grin, remembering Catherine, her deep green eyes, comely bosom, the way her lips felt against his own. Most days would slide effortlessly by, held aloft by fond memories and hypnotic repetition.\n\nBut not yesterday.\n\nIt started with a chicken, of all things. A bloody chicken. He'd heard its indignant squawk, quickly followed by the screams of the children who often played by the river.\n\n\"What in the name...\" he muttered as he turned from his task to pinpoint the source of the calamity. \"By the Greybeards!\" he shouted, racing into the village square, stopped suddenly in his tracks in astonishment.\n\nA stranger, clad in ancient Dwemer armour, was leaping and racing about the village, hacking wildly with a flaming axe that glinted green in the noon-light. Chickens, children, women and men, all fled in terror from this wild abomination.\n\n\"Yeah! Take that, fuckin' fish!\" the figure yelled, leaping from the mill's thatched roof into the river, churning the waters blood red with a fury of strikes from his axe. Fish carcasses rose to the surface and floated downstream. \"Hahaha! This is awesome!!!\" \n\nGregor had no choice but to try and stop this madman. He took the nearest thing to a weapon at hand, a rusted pitchfork, and raced forward, screaming \"For the Jarl!\"\n\nAt that moment, a voice seemed to echo over the hills. Like a mother calling its child, surely the work of magic, the words, which sounded very much like \"Din'ahs Rea'dy\" caused the man-beast to cease its destruction.\n\nWith a muttered curse, it vanished, leaving nothing but the trail of destruction and Gregor, waist deep in the bloody river, clutching his pitchfork with astonishment.\n\n\"And that's when the guards arrived.\" he grumbled, snapping back to reality, realising he'd been lost in reminiscence. \"Fish poaching, of all things...\"\n\n\"Aye lad, a grand story, I'd call thee throat o 'tworld...\" The coachman grinned back once more, his blackened teeth stretching wide into a hysterical grimace. \"But...\" he could barely contain his mirth, body wracked by snorting and snickering.\n\n\"Please no...\" Gregor pleaded.\n\n\"Yer more throat o' axe!\" he screamed, almost beside himself with laughter.\n\nGregor sighed and stared out over the treetops as the coach descended toward the garrison, the sun flickering through the autumn-stripped branches.\n\nHe prayed against hope for salvation.\n\nPerhaps the Dragonborn would come at last." ]	1
	[WP] A new microscope has been invented which is stronger than any other. You, a scientist, use it for the first time and see a microscopic city with people worshiping you and a statue of you in the middle. Turns out they believe you are they god, and have been worshiping you for years.	[ "I remember the first time I met Evans, the High Priest of the Little Ones.\n\nWhat's happening to me? Sorry, age takes its toll. I'm Arthur Penbark, the leading scientist as of 3218.\n\nI developed the MicroSight, the most unimaginably highly magnifying scanner using Optimised Reflecting Tachyon Photon Microconverter Technology... Ugh...I'll cut to the point. I made a powerful microscope.\n\nAnd inside, I found the most joyous thing. I found a whole microcivilization, smaller than atoms itself, so small that outside physics had no effect there yet physical laws remained unchanged... Ugh...Please forgive me. I really have become to old.\n\nAfter furthermore, there seemed to exist billions of such civilisations. Yet the most amazing thing was that they worshipped each organism as Gods, and lived under their name. I was lucky enough to find my civilization on the 57th try.\n\nUsing similar technology, I managed to communicate with them. After a while, however, the scientist part of me kicked in. What if there was smaller civilisations still?\n\nSo I asked them to build a similar microscope after revealing my studies to them, and asked them to order the next civilization to do so to, and to line these scanners one after the other.\n\nAfter a year, I had to abandon official research on the project, for all we found were smaller and tinier communities. Yet I checked on them everyday, in hopes of success.\n\nAnd after 62 years, I have found it. We have found it. The smallest part, the base. This finding will revolutionise our understanding of the world and give us knowledge otherwise inaccessible. A discovery akin to that of gravity or tachyons or fire.\n\nI am old now, but I will make my mark on history. I shall use the sunset of my lifetime to usher a vibrant sunrise for science.\n\nAll the telescopes aligned, and I got a glimpse of that beautiful thing. It's wonderful, absolutely marvellous. It is the key to all future development. It-it's- Ugh.. Ah! It's fading away... The darkness... It's consuming.... So... Enticing.... Ugh....\n\nNo! I must tell you.... I-It's... Ah, So... Addictive... I'm... going... Blackness....\n\nr/BetterTales, for more of my work." ]	1
	[WP] Christopher Columbus never receives funding for his expedition. The year is 2000 and europe is crowded and starving. You, an average person, invent satellite mapping technology and discover the Americas.	[ "Erm..... some Europeans were aware of North American long before Colombus. The Norse had set up fishing colonies and trading posts in modern-day Canada in 1000-ish CE, 500 years before Colombus, and went to North America for centuries.\n\nEuropeans wrote of \"Vinland\" (North America) after the contact, and some historians think that Colombus got the idea to sail west based on historical stories told by Icelanders.\n\n[http://www.hurstwic.org/history/articles/society/text/North\\_American\\_exploration.htm](http://www.hurstwic.org/history/articles/society/text/North_American_exploration.htm)\n\n&#x200B;" ]	1

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