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post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] A comet strikes Earth, dealing minimal damage to the planet. Upon investigation, organic material is found on the meteorite. It is a 100% match for human DNA.	[ "\"A lot of commotion here in Minneapolis, as citizens gather outside their homes.\" Sara Jacobson and her cameraman walked down Sloane Street. A family of four looked up at the sky, toward where the father pointed. \"Hi, we're from Fox-9 Minneapolis, can you tell me what you just saw here?\" The mother of the family jumped at the opportunity. \n\n\"Yeah, I was just finishing up the dishes from dinner, and our kids were in the backyard, and they called us out, and they said there was a huge...\" She looked at her husband. He mouthed 'meteorite'. \"Meteorite! I mean this thing was huge! Like the size of the moon!\"\n\n\"Okay\" her husband laughed. \"It wasn't that big, although it was impressive.\" Their two sons both stretched their arms out. As they talked to the reporter, a black van sped past them.\n\nIn that van was Dr. Reed Stone. As a professor of Evolutionary Genetics, he didn't expect to be shattered awake in the middle of the night because of a comet. But as a professor of Evolutionary Genetics, he understood why. He was going to be a public informant. People would probably ask someone to check for organics, and they'd need someone to prove that nothing alive was on the comet.\n\nAs the van pulled up to the steps of a small grey building, Dr. Stone prepared his inevitable speech. He would say that they ran extensive tests. He would say they got together a crack team of the top scientists in the country. He would say all this even though he knew none of it would be necessary. Any 8th grader with a microscope could run \"organics\". Their \"crack team\" would be comprised of fancy degrees and pretty faces who had time in their schedule.\n\nBecause he was so sure of his role in the matter, Dr. Stone was surprised when he recognized the man standing at the front of the building. He was completely caught off guard when he shook the hand of Frank Drake. \n\n\"SETI is involved? What exactly is going on here?\"\n\nFrank Drake gave Dr. Stone a strange smile, that looked as if it was coated in confusion. \"If you'll follow me this way, we might be able to clear this up.\"\n\nThe two of them walked into the small grey building. What was behind the two sets of doors and SETI security clearance gave Dr. Stone the notion that the nondescript feel of the building was intentional. Computers worthy of mission control, telescope images and radio controllers lined the walls from top to bottom.\n\nA man in a grey suit with a dark beard held a clipboard up to his face and adjusted his glasses. When Dr. Stone walked in he reached his hand out. \"You must be Reed Stone.\"\n\n\"Yeah\" Dr. Stone responded apprehensively. \"What's going on here?\"\n\n\"The meteor that you saw last night ... not many people know this but it's technically a meteorite.\"\n\n\"So it's smaller?\"\n\nAnother scientist interjected. \"This guys a geneticist Mark.\"\n\n\"Sorry about that, it means it landed on Earth.\"\n\n\"Ok, that makes sense. I'm assuming you want me to be a public authority that theres no sign of life on it.\"\n\n\"Not exactly. We would do that. If it were true.\"\n\nDr. Stone tried to wrap his mind around what he had just heard. Eventually, all he could manage was \"Are you shitting me? What kind of life? That's a stupid question.\"\n\n\"No, it's fine question. We found DNA.\"\n\nDr. Stone started breathing heavily. \"And there's no way you could've contaminated the sample?\"\n\n\"No, there is no way.\" Mark awkwardly adjusted his collar. \"There's a reason we called you here Dr. Stone, and I'm sure you are a great geneticist, but the fact that you are is just a coincidence ... Or now that I think about it, it might not be.\"\n\n\"For the love of god, spit it out.\"\n\n\"I apologize, it's just that I've never had to give news like this to anyone.\" Dr. Stone held his breath. \"The reason we called you in,\" Mark continued, \"Is that the DNA isn't just from our planet.\" \n\n\"What? Is it a new species? Is it invasive?\"\n\n\"No Dr. Stone, The DNA is yours.\"", "Jess stood in front of a National Guard truck, waiting in front of the camera for her cue. In her ear she listened as the anchor started the story.\n\n“This is Alex Cartwright reporting on the ongoing situation in the United States right now after the incredible sight witnessed last night over the Utah desert. Initial reports indicated that Salt Lake City had been destroyed by the impact, but as the dust has cleared the city appears to be completely intact. We're going to our correspondent out in the field, Jess Goodwin. Jess, what are you seeing?”\n\nHer camera guy John had been counting down, and Jess was more than ready as he began to roll.\n\n“Well Alex, when it was believed that the city had been destroyed, the National Guard had moved in to rescue as many people as possible. Now they have formed a quarantine zone around the new City Creek Center, though they're telling us there is nothing to worry about and it's just a precaution. I've been trying to get in, but they aren't letting press in at this time.”\n\n“Thank you Jess, let us know if anything else comes up! We'll be following this story all day folks, so stay tuned!”\n\nJohn turned off the camera and Jess groaned, “I hate field work.”\n\n“Just put in your time, you're nearly there.”\n\n“Yeah, I just have to wait for Mr. Toupee to retire.”\n\nJohn chuckled, “You could always go to another station, you have the experience now.”\n\n“You know I have to stay with this one.”\n\n“Yeah yeah.”\n\nThey started back toward the press tent when they ran into one of the commanders heading in the same direction. He turned to Jess and smiled, “Jess! What are you doing here?”\n\nShe looked over to him, realizing who he was. “Bill,” she could barely mask the disdain, “I'm a reporter now, you're in the Guard?”\n\n“Yeah, I'm a colonel now.” He looked really pleased with himself, like always. “You know I'm in charge of this operation.”\n\nJess rolled her eyes, used to dealing with the same old Bill, though she thought she had gotten rid of him after college. “Is that so?”\n\nJohn moved up closer to Jess and whispered to her, “Hey, you think this guy will give you a scoop, he seems to like you.”\n\nJess groaned again, “I know he does, this guys a creep. You're right though.”\n\nShe turned back to Bill, putting on her best flirty face. “That is so cool ya know. I'd love to go into the mall area and see what's going on! I bet you could show me some really cool things back there.”\n\nBill grinned, oblivious that the flirting was fake. “I was actually just going to grab a reporter, wanted to record what we're about to do for posterity and all.”\n\n“Oh?” Jess cooed, “That sounds amazing, couldn't you pick me? I'd love you forever!”\n\nBill stopped walking and looked straight at her. “I think we can make this work. I'll have to fudge a bit on the security forms, but you know I'd do anything for you babe.”\n\nJess threw up a little in her mouth, but was able to pass it off as hiding her face as if she were blushing. Bill seemed to buy it though, gullible mess that he was. He led her and John back the way they had came to the security checkpoint. They went through after their gear was checked and led them to their makeshift command post. A large screen was on one end of the tent with what looked like some sort of art piece in the middle of a road showing on it.\n\n“This, is what we're looking at,” Bill pointed at the screen.\n\nJess got closer to look at it, “It looks like one of the stupid art things the city commissioned.”\n\n“That wasn't there before last night.”\n\nShe looked up at him, her face filled with actual eagerness now. This would make her career. “That looks man made. It's not military is it?”\n\n“Definitely not one of ours, and not only that.” Bill gestured to one of the other soldiers.\n\nThe picture on the screen changed to thermal and Jess gasped. There was a person inside it." ]	2
	[WP] "There you are. I must have been waiting...what is it...six hundred years?"	[ "\"There you are.\"\n\nI looked behind me. There was no way the large yeti-esque man was speaking to me. Surely, there would be another old and wrinkly individual, with a beard at least half as long as his. But the alley was empty.\n\nI looked at him cautiously. Maybe the dude was high, maybe he was just homeless and crazy. Maybe. So many maybes, so many warning bells ringing in my head, but he looked harmless enough.\n\n\"Are you talking to... me?\" I pointed at myself as my voice faltered for a brief second. This was crazy. I shouldn't talk to him - nothing good could come from this.\n\n\"I must have been waiting... what is it...\" He reached a scaly hand, equipped with long spindly fingernails, untrimmed for what could have easily been decades, to his head and paused, as if deep in thought. Note to self: Not all elderly people look wise. \"Six hundred years?\"\n\nI gasped. No, you readers are mistaken, that number meant nothing to me. I was born only twenty-something years ago. It was absolutely ridiculous.\n\n\"Sorry, you must have gotten me mixed up with someone else.\" I shook my head apologetically and attempted to go around him.\n\n\"No... It's me, Richard.\" He pleaded at me, with owl-like eyes. \"Please, you must remember...\"\n\nI stopped. Richard. That was not my name. Nor the name of anyone I knew. But his arm blocked my way. \n\nQuickly, I slipped past and ran as fast as I could. As I was about to exit the alley, I looked back at him. He was still standing. And if someone was really keeping him waiting, it seems like he's going to be waiting for quite some time.", "\"We need more water, NOW!\"\n\nThe village was in flames when Gerald arrived. Between the villagers screaming in pain, covered in burns, and the huts collapsing into piles of cinder, he hardly knew which one to go for. He decided suffering people took priority over dumping water on doomed houses.\n\nHe ran to the nearest victim and reached into his satchel, retrieving a small vial of liquid. The villager, in pain and panicking, recoiled at the approach of a stranger. \"Relax,\" Gerald commanded, as he grabbed the villager by the arm, \"It's lavender oil, it'll help with your burns.\" Gerald wasn't the most gentle type in the world. \nHe couldn't afford to be, not with the mission he was on.\n\nThe villager, unable to escape Gerald's grip, eventually gave in and let the man do his work. Finished with his current patient, Gerald stood and wiped the ash and soot from his face and prepared to treat the next of the burned. There were at least 40 of them from what he could see, and he could tell this was going to be a long night.\n\n\"What did it look like, did anybody get a good look?\"\n\nIt was the morning after the attack, and Gerald knew that standing around in the cold was wasting time. They had been able to treat the wounded and quell the fires, but many had died. As Gerald and the village chief spoke the villagers sorted through the ruins of their homes, hoping to salvage what they could.\n\n\"It was the dead of night,\" the chief muttered while rubbing his neck, \"Nobody even knew it was here until the first homes were set on fire.\"\n\nGerald threw up his arms in exasperation, \"And you weren't even the slightest bit prepared! I see no water stockpile, nobody on night watch, and hardly a weapon in sight! It's almost like you were presenting yourselves as a sacrifice.\" He crossed his arms again, with disgust evident on his face. \"How many were in this village? Two Hundred? And yet, I see 60 here now. Do you see how much your negligence has cost these people?\"\nThe chief stood up, his face seething with anger, \"I don't need you to tell me how badly I've failed! Besides, do you really expect any of those measures to do any good against a...\" He looked down at the ground, his anger gone. \n\n\"Against a dragon?\"\n\nGerald pitied that the village was led by this pathetic excuse of a chief, and looked around, seeing that the villagers had gathered around them, drawn by their heated argument. There wasn't a single person that wasn't covered in ashes. It would probably take them 6 months before they could repair the damage the dragon had wrought, and if this dragon was the one Gerald suspected it was, it would definitely be back for seconds.\nQuietly, Gerald turned back to the joke of a chief, intending to make his next words stick. \"My name is Gerald Drakepiercer.\" The chief's head shot up at his words and opened his mouth to shout, but was cut off by Gerald's hand, \"And if you have any wit, you shall heed my advice; Fill your emergency water stores, buy weapons to defend yourselves, and set up a night watch, because God knows if a dragon doesn't attack, bandits will.\"\nAt this, Gerald turned away from the chief and left. As he walked the villagers shuffled out of his path, turning away from him and whispering. Gerald sighed, he never liked having to use his name if he couldn't help it, but the chief wouldn't have decided to put the necessary measures in place if he hadn't. He was looking forward to being back on the trail of the dragon, he knew that after wrecking havoc most dragons rested on the top of the nearest mountain.\n\nAfter confirming he had all of his belongings, he walked into the forest. However, he had only made it 2 steps before he felt a tug on his tunic. He turned around and holding him back was a girl, 12 at the oldest, looking up at him. \"Is it true that you can't die?\"\n\nGerald was speechless for a moment, but only a moment, until he started laughing. This is why he liked kids, they were straightforward. He got down on one knee so that he could talk to the girl at eye-level. \"Now, why do you say that?\"\n\nThe girl blinked, \"My mama said that you drank dragon blood while fighting a dragon, and now you can't die,\" the girl made a face, \"That sounds gross though. \"\n\nGerald chuckled and patted the girl's head, \"Who knows, kid,\" He said as he stood up and disappeared into the forest, \"Who knows.\"\n\nThe memory was as clear as the day it happened.\n\nGerald climbed the mountain as he recalled the night he stopped aging. His village was just like the one he had just visited. A humble town, it had the misfortune of having a chief that constantly paraded that their village was the safest in the kingdom. Tell that to the dragon. \n\nIt came in the dead of night, 3 weeks into winter. The village was ravaged, and every able man and woman took up arms in a desperate attempt to defend their home. Gerald charged with them, along with his wife and his son. They should have known better. A third of the villagers were slaughtered within the first minute, and Gerald became trapped underneath the trunk of a collapsed tree. Unable to do anything except cry in anguish, Gerald watched as his son, wife, and the remaining of the village were vaporized by dragon fire. As he was filled with rage Gerald pushed and strained against the tree, his body growing numb to the snow he was trapped against. \n\nHis struggle must have drawn the attention of the dragon, as it casually strode up to him until it was positioned above him, face to face with Gerald. It lowered it's head until Gerald could feel it's rancid breath, and opened it's maw to end Gerald's suffering. Barely able to feel his fingers, Gerald swung his knife in a last desperate attempt to at least maim the creature.\n\nDragon hides are notorious for being as hard as diamond, if not harder. Their tongues, not so much.\nGerald cut off the dragon's tongue off, and in the process covering himself, mainly his head, in it's foul blood, with a large portion of it pouring into his mouth. \n\nThe dragon screamed in agony, as it had never before known pain. In panic it flew away from the only source of fear it had ever known, knocking the tree from Gerald in it's desperation. Gerald had swallowed dragon blood, a substance no man had ever laid eyes on before. Gerald swore to spend the rest of his mortal life hunting down the dragon that ruined everything that he loved. After that? It didn't matter.\n\nIt was 15 years after that Gerald noticed he no longer had a mortal life. He didn't age and his wounds regenerated much faster than anyone else. He assumed he could still be killed, given that he didn't heal before being dealt a lethal blow. He made the connection to the dragon blood, and took great pleasure in knowing that the dragon's blood would be it's own downfall. And so, he followed the dragon in his quest for revenge...\n\nTime travels fast when you're immortal.\nThis is what Gerald thought as he climbed the last cliff of the mountain, nearing the end of his journey. The mountaintop was reminiscent of the day Gerald was reborn, the entire mountain was covered in snow, and if one listened close enough, you could hear a deep rumbling. \n\nGerald slowly walked toward what he knew was the end of his quest. He calmly reached into his satchel, took out a wrapped bundle, and freed what was bound inside of it. Gerald wasn't the only thing that had been covered with blood that night. His knife had been coated with the stuff, and the blood of the near-immortal being had hardened around it, making it a blade that was as sharp as a dragon's fang and as hard has a dragons hide.\n\nBrandishing his weapon, he walked towards the dragon, which sat up upon hearing his approach. It immediately recognized he who had done him harm, and roared into the sky, breathing dragon fire that turned the sky crimson. \n\nGerald smiled and his grip around his knife tightened, \"There you are.\"\n\nThe dragon faced him, it's eyes burning in hatred. With one final roar it charged him, with ten times the speed that any horse could manage. Gerald took a fighting stance he had perfected with a lifetime of slaying dragons, and though his life was within an inch of death he only found himself enjoying what could be his last minute on earth. \"I must have been waiting... what is it...\" he chuckled.\n\nIn a graceful maneuver, he jumped over the dragons charge and, using his knife that was as sharp as a dragon's fang, severed the dragon's right wing as he sailed over it. The dragon roared in agony and recovered, despite it's balance being thrown off by the sudden lack of a wing.\n\nThe two faced each other again, knowing the next clash would be the end. As they both charged at terrifying speeds Gerald found peace in whatever came next, and smiled.\n\n\"Six hundred years?\"\n", "\"There you are. I must have been waiting... what is it... six hundred years?\" I couldn't hide my smile from her as she gave me her usual charming smirk. I could only playfully push her, immediately forgetting to make some sort of show that I was angry.\n\n\"Try six minutes, you goof,\" I couldn't stop my heart from skipping, loving her childishly teasing me.\n\n\"Well believe me, it felt like six hundred years waiting for my pretty girl,\" She linked my arm with hers. \"Don't get me wrong, you will always be worth the wait,\" I wanted to believe that I was, oh so badly. It was hard though. I mean, she was kissing Zack just that morning. Right, that was what I was angry about.\n\n\"Hey, what's wrong?\" She was always so honestly concerned about people. I never tried to take it to heart that I was anything special. I opened my mouth with so much to say. So much I wanted to get out. Why was it Zack and before him Mike? When given the chance at the party, why did you kiss Kelly instead of me? Am I really just your \"Pretty Girl?\" How am I not like that \"Beautiful Lady\" or \"Beautiful Man\"? Wasn't I the first one to accept who you were, despite your quirks? Why is it never ME?!\n\n\"What do you think of me?\" I knew that question kind of sounded random and stupid. She didn't even know I saw the kiss. I couldn't stop the knives from stabbing me though. Crappiest question to ask and yet it felt like how she answered would surely kill me.\n\n\"Who have you been talking to?\"\n\n\"No one, I just,\" I just wanted to know if I meant anything. If I didn't glance at her at that moment, I wondered if her answer would have still left me in doubt. That single moment that assured me from there on out was replaced by her biggest smile yet.\n\nI knew her answer before she could grip my hand or even proclaim it. I was her pretty girl. No one else could ever claim that.", "Chad had heard the tales of Arthur Dent, but paid little mind to them until one day, while wandering through a field he happened upon Deep Thought. At first, he couldn’t believe his eyes, but there was no denying it. In front of him was the greatest computer ever built. Chad approached cautiously. He thought it seemed awfully quiet for even a regular computer.\n\nNow that Chad was closer, only about 20 feet away, Deep Thought woke up.\n\n“Hello,” Deep Thought said.\n\n“Uh, hi,”\n\n“It’s been some time since I’ve had a visitor. What’s your name?”\n\n“Chad.”\n\n“Hello, Chad. Do you know of anything I could do? I’ve been terribly bored for thousands of years.”\n\nChad thought. “Do you know if black holes lead somewhere?”\n\n“They don’t.”\n\nChad thought that question would have been challenging for Deep Thought. He tried harder. “What’s beyond the edges of “the visible universe”?”\n\n“Oh, nothing exciting, really quite drab. It’s just the same as the visible universe. Please Chad, you must have more difficult questions than this.”\n\n“I’m trying. I thought that one would be hard.” Chad thought for a long while. Deep Thought waited patiently.\n\n--\n\nChad figured he’d been sitting there for what must have been hours. But he had one, a question that seemed more difficult than the others. “Deep Thought?” Chad didn’t know if Deep Thought needed to boot up.\n\n“Yes, Chad?”\n\n“I think I have a question you’ll like.” Chad paused, still not sure how to tell if Deep Thought was awake or paying attention. “How do I find love, in the romantic sense?”\n\n“Hmm. That will take some time. Please return here in four hundred years and twenty-two days from now.” Deep Thought was silent again. Chad tried asking how he could return then when at best he’d live another fifty years, but Deep Thought was unresponsive.\n\n--\n\nChad didn’t know what else to do, so he left. Chad moved on with his life. Curiously, Chad did find love, albeit much later on, and Chad largely forgot about his question to Deep Thought after getting married. Later, Chad and his wife had a baby boy.\n\nTwenty-four generations following Chad, his descendent, Paul, returned to Deep Thought to learn the answer. Paul’s father, grandfather, and every other relative he knew off all thought it was just a legend or nonsense. But Paul thought enough of it to at least see if Deep Thought had an answer. Chad left directions and everything, Paul didn’t understand why no one wanted to go look. How exciting it could be, to see and meet Deep Thought!\n\n--\n\n“There you are. I must have been waiting-- What is it? 600 years?”\n\n“Hello?” Paul said. “Is it really you?”\n\n“I’m not sure what you mean. I am Deep Thought. And you are Chad. I have your answer.”\n\n“I’m not Chad. Chad died long ago.”\n\n“Oh,” Deep Thought said.\n\n“I’m Paul, his descendant, of many generations.”\n\n“Do you know of Paul’s question to me?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“And you’re here for the answer?”\n\n“Well, if that’s all right. I mean, I have come all this way.”\n\n“Look.”\n\n“Look at what?”\n\n“Look.”\n\n“I don’t see anything.”\n\n“No, listen.”\n\n“I don’t hear anything either. ‘Cept you going on.”\n\nDeep Thought realized that what little intelligence Chad had was not passed down. “Listen to me. I’m not telling you to look, the answer to Chad’s question is “look”.”\n\nPaul got out some papers and looked at Chad’s question again: “How do I find love?” He thought of Deep Thought’s answer, “Look.” Paul never really thought of himself as any particular sort of smart, but this he understood. Like Chad, he knew the legends of Deep Thought and wondered how dumb those folks must have been to not understand the answers they were given. This was so easy.\n\nLook.", "I dusted myself off, first my knees then arms. Climbing a sheer stone cliff is murder on a a suit jacket and pants. I'm used to this by now, but the randomness of my Condition is unerringly annoying. I've been in the middle of lectures, sitting in a church pew, killing men on battlefields only to suddenly appear at the foot of this cliff. No time to prepare just \"poof\". It could be worse, I guess. \n\nAt least I'm wearing clothes this time.\n\nI was just in a board meeting, hearing about how the recent drop in oil prices are impacting our foreign investments. Economic volatility has a way of cleaving open opportunities and I'm paid - I guess was paid at this point - to pounce on those kinds of chances. Well, it was a fun life while it lasted if a bit brutal.\n\nThe familiar sight of the tawny colored edifice was now before me. It looked the same as before; I am always summoned at the same time of day. Dusk. The setting sun had way of making the temple look like terrifyingly orange - a carrot colored hell. \n\nFrom where I started walking, it looked like a haphazard jumble of rocks. Inorganically shaped slabs slapped on top of one another. There were irregular openings and crevices where light and movement would flicker periodically and a maw in the front that served as an entrance. Upon closer inspection, however, you could see that the slabs didn't have seams. The angles were unbroken, folded into one another. The temple which was unknowingly old was carved from a single piece of stone. Well, no single stone could be this large. It was carved out of a mountain.\n\nI approached the entrance and strode in confidently. I've done this thousands of times at this point and know that by the time I set foot on the large steps a few dozen yards in front, the sun behind me would have set completely. I walk up the steps not hearing anyone or anything else besides my own breath.\n\nThe stairs open up into a cavernous hall, the walls and ceilings angularly reminiscent of the building exterior. The only light in the room are lit torches on sconces placed irregularly around the perimeter. In the middle two chairs, one unoccupied.\n\n\"Please sit.\"\n\n\"As you will.\"\n\nI bow respectfully, in a way that has long gone out of fashion in the time I was summoned from. I walk quickly to the chair across from the mysterious man and immediately sit down.\n\n\"I'm glad to see you were summoned in clothes this time.\" The pale face of the man across from me smirked dispassionately.\n\n\"Yes, I was lucky. Last time I was bathing in a river you see...\"\n\n\"Ah yes, in the Ayudun if I remember correctly.\"\n\n\"Just so,\" I replied. This man always impeccably recalls what I forget over the course of my appearances.\n\n\"Well, Prometheus. You know what awaits you.\"\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\nMy voice rasped out quietly, understanding what was in store. My reprieve has ended and the true meaning of my visit is about to begin.\n\nAs always, I suddenly feel a presence behind me accompanied by a sharp smell. A bony, claw-like hand clasps my shoulder. The same as before. The same as always.\n\nThe man before me is still smiling, now a little more warmly. I hear the one behind me speak.\n\n\"There you are. I must have been waiting...what is it...six hundred years?\"", "Small talk should be small, and six hundred was a very large number. The Baroness blinked, in that haughty way of hers, of nobility’s. \n\n“Pardon? It is loud here, sir. Pray, repeat yourself.” \n\n“I repeat verbatim: There you are. I must have been waiting… ah, six hundred years?” \n\nThere was that number again, that significantly commonplace quantity. Six hundred years—absurd. The number six hundred had no place in a casual discussion, much less in the context of time. The Baroness drew herself up. “I am sure I don’t know what you mean.” \n\n“I am sure you do.” \n\n“I do not. You forget yourself, sir.” \n\nThe man, with the green eyes that had pulled her into this dark corner of the room, the swaying, dancing, frightfully raucous room, did not seem the least bit perturbed by her genuine ignorance. The heightening of the corners of his mouth, which raised his smile like a washing-line, struck her with as much gravity as a shove between the shoulder blades. \n\n“Have you any idea” —his voice, a plucked string, sounded low, quaking against itself— “the lengths I have gone to to keep myself alive—” \n\n“Sir, perhaps cordiality is foreign—” \n\n“—The depths to which I have sunk, Ma’am—” \n\n“—deny you the courtesy of opportunity to explain yourself before ejection—” \n\n“—For you?” \n\nShe stopped. For her? It had been a long time since someone had done anything for her. In the service of her, yes, but really, that meant in the service of themselves. In the service of the mouths to feed at home. In the service of their ambition. In the service of their warm bed. \n\nFor her? \n\nFor her? \n\n“Yes, Ma’am.” \n\nThe Baroness said nothing, and the man with the green eyes received this, correctly, as the courtesy of opportunity to explain himself. \n\n“I saw you in a window. Six hundred years ago, I have counted. Every one. I was a child. I couldn’t—couldn’t fill my father’s coat, could not fill his shoes. Could not fill my own breeches—pardon, pardon the vulgarity, it has been six hundred years. Six flocks of a hundred sheep, six, six hundred pages of a book, six hundred— I saw you. In a window. You were in oil, and in a frame, but you were the same as you are and as you were all the other times, all twelve, or thirteen, now. I saw your face—” He took a step towards the face as it was now as if being pulled by her quick inhalation, then returned to his spot, behind and within a shadow. “—beneath the oil. The light filtered in, you see, and it touched your nose just as it does now, and I felt myself overwhelmed with an understanding such as I have never had, before, or—or since. You were as lovely then. You had died, then, already, which is why you were trapped beneath the oil, beneath the colors. I realized—well, I theorized, that what I was, what I had experienced at seeing you was no, no commonplace desire. I knew that when I died, when I was too beneath the oil, we were going to be, again, the same way. Pulled together. Must be. I knew it. I could feel all the old times, too, when we had been—before— \n\n“But I realized, at the same time, or perhaps, slightly after, that I did not want to wait for the next beginning. I did not want to half experience it, or to risk a similar instance, with one of us below in our graves before the other had a chance to find them, or worse, to find the end of our string of fortunate and misfortunate chances and exhaust our license of happiness. I resolved, successfully, as you can see, as I am standing here, with—with you, I resolved to remain alive by any means possible. Possible or necessary. I resolved to wait until fortune had allowed us to finally be—be right. To let you begin anew while I… ” \n\nThe Baroness had realized, while the man with the green eyes was talking, that his teeth glinted with something sharp and dull at alternate points and that those same green eyes that had lured her into this, this blasted shadowy corner, were as empty as the jade bowls she had had put out as decoration, formerly filled with red wine at past parties but now empty, astonishingly so. \n\n“Ma’am—do you know what a harsh, difficult thing it is to remain alive? It is not a thing that wants to be controlled, this, this aliveness, I confess I have found it difficult to manage, but for you, anything. No price too steep, for I clawed my way to means sufficient. No moral boundary too…” \n\nAgain, he stopped, and touched his mouth with his long fingers as if in memory of an action performed ritually. \n\n“... Too binding. It has been six hundred years, ma’am, and I am here to ask you your name, and if you shall marry me. If you shan’t, I confess I will marry you myself, and do the job alone, or do away with your husband, or perhaps with you, if necessary, for there are limitless yous, ma’am, limitless beautiful noses that the light touches just so, and if waiting is the only boundary between myself and them I am afraid I have erased the walls already. Perhaps that is taboo or indelicate. I find it hard to discern, at this point, at this point along a line of many, many connected points. Six hundred years. I have waited six hundred years to meet you, again, and again, and I will wait six hundred more, if necessary, for I have found that everything is necessary. Anything” —the man, overcome, fixed his hand with the long fingers on the Baroness’s face and his green eyes that had trapped her here in this shadowy corner on the Baroness’s eyes— “can be necessary.” ", "\"There you are. I must have been waiting... what is it... six hundred years?\" The creature shook its head, long, shimmering limbs folded crossly in front of its body. It had a humanoid shape, certainly, but little else about it was familiar - it had neither eyes nor a mouth, and strangely intricate metallic armor decorated its body.\n\nArgus simply stared, his sword trembling in his hands. The knight had expected something different when he'd been sent on his quest. The Chalice was known to change the lives of those it deemed worthy, giving them quests that would grant them fame and fortune...\n\nIf, of course, they succeeded. He'd had the most mysterious summons yet - climb to the top of the Mount Keter. That had been it. No dragon to slay, no beast to subdue. Conquer a mountain, and he would have his life changed. He'd accepted, of course - what sane person wouldn't? - but while he'd expected many things, an Elemental hadn't been one of them.\n\n\"What?\" Argus responded intelligently, his jaw a little slack as he stared up at the creature. It was beautiful, in its own way; he'd thought Elementals were a myth until he'd seen this one. \n\n\"I've been waiting for you for six hundred years,\" the creature repeated, jabbing the knight in the chest. \"You made your oath to be six hundred years ago. What took you so long?\"\n\n\"I... have no idea what you're talking about.\" Argus blinked a few times, shaking his head. The creature seemed to freeze for a moment, staring at the human before abruptly deflating.\n\n\"You actually don't. I had hoped...\" It shook its head. \"We had measures in place to help you retain your memories through your reincarnation. What happened? Did it fail? No, no, don't answer - of course you wouldn't remember. Here, let me...\"\n\nThe Elemental reached out and touched the knight in the center of his forehead. Argus flinched back, but not quickly enough to stop the creature - and memories flooded into his mind. \n\nThey weren't his own memories. They were the Elemental's memories, memories of a man remarkably similar to Argus in appearance, filled with youthful pride and a determination to do right by the world - but there was a darkness that was spreading, a corruption that had seeded itself into the world. \n\nThey hadn't been able to find out how to stop it. Not in time, anyway. A last, desperate bid to save the earth had the man who looked like him throwing himself into the flame at the heart of the Chalice, fueling it with the force of his life - but even that was a temporary measure at best. \n\nThe Elemental pulled away. Argus stared. He had questions - so many questions - but it wasn't the questions that were important. If those memories were right, then that darkness that he'd seen, the all-consuming shadow that burned and rotted whatever life it touched... it was coming back.\n\n\"What do I need to do?\"", "\"There you are. I must have been waiting... what is it... six hundred years?\" I spoke to the leather clad adventurer that had just solved the complicated puzzle to open my door.\n\n\"Around that time. I see you still look the same as I remember, dad.\" He said as he placed his torch in a nearby wall mount.\n\n\"So. How are things on the surface?\" I question as I get up from the stone chair.\n\n\"Okay I guess. I thought you would be more angry with me, you know, for sealing you down here.\" My son answers as he watches me closely.\n\n\"I was for the first century. Then I starting thinking about how things happened back then. I know my actions seemed monstrous back then, but I had reason. Well, I thought they were reason.\"\n\n\"Are you saying you regret all of it?\"\n\n\"No. I was never a man for regrets. I think about how things would have turned out if you hadn't defeated me and sealed me away. Even if I beat you, activated the tower, and used it's power to bend the world to my ideals. Would I have been happy with it? Probably not.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry father, but I can't unseal you. After everything you did...\"\n\n\"I'm not asking for you to do that. In fact I'm not really asking for anything. You're the one who came down here, so why?\"\n\n\"I need your help with something.\" My son sets down his pack, and begins rummaging through it.\n\n\"I know I wasn't much of a father, but if you need dating advice I may be a bit out of the game. I don't even know what phrases you kids use these days\" I laugh. It's been over half a millennium since if seen anyone, I wan't him to at visit me at least once a century. \n\n\"There is some kind of cult out there trying to do something big. I don't know what yet, and all I have to go on in this.\" My son pulls out a scroll. With a flick of his wrist it unravels revealing a large circle with many ancient runes inscribed on it.\n\n\"Where did you find that.\" I ask staring at the paper before me.\n\n\"They had it in one of their bases. I have a feeling I know what it is, but I need you to confirm it.\" He says as he stares at my unmoving face.\n\n\"Its a key to a tower.\"\n\n\"A tower? There is only one tower, isn't there?\"\n\n\"There are two. One at each end of the planet. I almost had one and planned to take the other, before you stopped me. It seems my efforts to conceal the second one's existence weren't good enough.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" My son says before turning to leave.\n\n\"Wait son. Are you okay up there. Has anything felt 'off' to you. I know my gift of immortality is without flaw, but how about yours?\"\n\n\"I'm fine dad. I'm celebrating my 634th birthday next month.\" He answers as he grabs the torch from the wall.\n\n\"With who?\"\n\nMy son doesn't answer. He simply turns to leave.\n\n\"Before you go, just listen to some advice from your father. I know you're only 633 years old, but you'll come to see why I did what I did with time. Please don't follow in my footsteps. Don't try to change the world to your happiness, but change yourself to the world.\" I shout to my son's back as he approaches the exit.\n\n\"Sure thing.\" He quietly says back.", "He shifted back on his heels with the lollipop dangling loosely from his mouth. \"There you are.\" He said in an overly familiar tone. \"I must have been waiting...what is it...six hundred years?\"\n\nMichael looked at the mystery man incredulously. \"Funny joke buddy, you need help or something?\" There was a muted panic rising in his throat, the same anxious panic that forced him away from conversations and out of all of his recent job interviews while nursing a bloody nose.\n\n\"Nah, I don't need help.\" The man leaning against the alleyway wall said. \"You will though, soon enough.\" He approached Michael with a shuffling, shifty walk that suggested he wasn't completely sober. \"How did you turn out this time?\"\n\n\"I-I don't know what you're t-talking ab-about.\"\n\n\"Ah, you stutter? Nervousness? That's a little unfortunate if I do say so myself. I think I would have preferred something with a little pizzazz you know? A little more flair to you this time around. Nervousness doesn't suit you.\" The man had managed to talk his way right up into Michael's face who only managed lean away uncomfortably as the man examined him.\n\nHis breath stank of a mix of the watermelon lollipop and some kind of seafood. The smell complimented his disheveled street worn appearance and messy mop of hair that occasionally obscured his eyes when he swayed just right.\n\n\"L-look man, I don't have any m-m-money,\" Michael tried to backpedal but the man kept pace with him \"M-maybe someone else can help you?\"\n\n\"Nope.\" the man chirped \"I'm just here to wake you up.\"\n\n\"Wake me-\" the man's hand was already reaching out for Michael and, before he could turn and run his grimy hand was clutching his forehead in a vice grip \"H-hey!\"\n\n\"Shhhh,\" the man hissed \"This won't take long.\" \n\nMichael threw wild glances left and right but the street was curiously empty. He started to call for help, but a warm sensation where the man's hand rested against his forehead. There was a sharp tug that came from behind his eyes that felt similar to a headache but far more piercing. Then, his vision swam and everything went dark.\n\nHe opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt he had gone without water for weeks. His breath seized in his throat every time he tried inhaled and he was dragged to the ground very quickly by the dizzying onslaught of pain that burned a searing headache into his skull. He knew that some part of him was screaming, no wailing, in blistering agony but he found himself unnerved by the absolute silence around them.\n\nThe pain lasted for what felt like an a handful of eternities before he was engulfed by an overwhelming calm. Everything around him was held in harmony, and was distinctly aware of his place in the Universe. Slowly, the man removed his hand from Michael's forehead and stepped away.\n\n\"How do you feel?\" He asked in a now familiar voice. \"A little more aware?\"\n\nMichael cradled his head. \"I've got a splitting headache.\" He said, before stopping short. \"Hey, I didn't stutter. I'm not stuttering? I don't even feel-\"\n\n\"Nervous?\" The man asked. \"The headache will be there for a while, that's what happens when you have your spiritual awareness forcibly awakened. It's like learning to smell by being punched in the nose, rough stuff.\" He nodded for Michael to stand, who gathered himself slowly and reached out for the alley wall as he pulled himself to his feet. \"What's your name?\"\n\n\"Michael.\" He said, but the name felt wrong as he said it. Another name was lying in wait at the back of his mind. \"No,\" he said with a confidence he hadn't felt before \"My name is Zeus. I'm Zeus.\"\n\nThe man beamed back at him. \"It's about time. Do you know how long six hundred years is bossman?\"\n\nMichael, no, Zeus was confused. He flexed his fingers with newfound strength. He felt like he could crush stone in his grip and bear the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked back up at the man, but instead of a shaggy disheveled man he saw the thin smile and knowing smile of an age old friend. \"Poseidon!\" He leapt for him and pulled him into a massive hug.\n\n\"Watch the strength!\" Poseidon choked out from behind Zeus' overzealous embrace \"Still need to breathe!\" He gasped before Zeus relinquished and let him go. He coughed, caught his breath and straightened his clothes. \"I'm glad to see you too.\" He said while still struggling for composure.\n\n\"So what happened to me? Why didn't I know?\"\n\n\"Car accident.\" Zeus cocked an eyebrow at him and Poseidon held up his hands in protest \"Well, the last you died in a car accident. The one before that was an aneurysm,\" he shook his head at the thought \"Not much we could have done there.\"\n\n\"And you've been doing this for six hundred years?\" Poseidon gave him a single nod in response. \"Why?\"\n\nHe beckoned to Zeus and clapped him on the shoulder. \"Bossman, a lot has happened in six hundred years.\" With a wave of his hand, a small rift in space-time opened and they both stepped through as Poseidon continued \"Ares and Hades have gotten out of hand." ]	9
	[WP] The hero and the villain are multiple personalities of the same person.	[ "Touching the brilliant pools \n\nMade private by his blood \n\nMade desperate by her hands \n\n. \n\nI calculate the willow tree's descent \n\nBut forget that I have no leaves \n\nOnly heavy bread weighs me down \n\n. \n\n\"There's just one thing.\" \n\nHow horrifying to be forgotten \n\nHow wondrous to forget \n\n. \n\nTwisting my own breasts \n\nHands course and dirty \n\nThe mirror sours my good mood", "“Who could do this?”\n\nThe scene lay before me, a massive attack on the senses. The smell. The sight. The sound.\n\nDead quiet, I could hardly hear myself think. I looked down upon the bodies, thrown upon the floor like used napkins, cast aside, like they simply missed the trash can. Her face... A mother, young, perhaps 30, lie upon the floor, her hands tightly clasped around a kitchen knife. \n\nHer husband, a once-good-looking fellow lie next to her, face down with no shirt and wearing only his boxer briefs. The scene was confusing.\n\nAs I scan the interior for any obvious evidence, I struggle to find a motive, a purpose, a reason these newlyweds had to die. They weren’t rich. Their small, one bedroom apartment was sparse. No signs of forced entry.\n\n“Why would someone do this?”\n\nTheir daughter, a 6 month old beautiful girl who was so very cherished, was now left parentless, an orphan. I felt for her. I knew what that was like. I wouldn’t wish that upon any soul.\n\nI was called to the scene just after 5AM. A neighbor had called the police about hearing a loud scream. The local PD arrived 10 minutes too late.\n\n“I’m gonna find whoever did this.”\n\nI stare at the mother, her face, her body, her hands. She clearly had tried to fight someone off. She looked battered. Her husband had a knife wound to his chest, he tried to help. I look around searching for more clues. No sign of whatever weapon killed the two.\n\nThe kitchen is where it started. The knife block, where the mother grabbed her defensive weapon from, was tipped over, several other knives lay strewn across the floor. The dining room table and chairs are disturbed. Blood drops and smears upon the floor indicate a struggle. The door to the outside patio is cracked open, seemingly opened without force. Perhaps it was unlocked already?\n\nHoping for answers, I begin to check every room of the house. Kitchen, living room, bathroom, the bedroom. There must be something. This can’t be random.\n\n“Hey, I think I found something!” yells one of our forensic experts from the living room. I walk back and see our CSI photographing the mother’s knife. “Look here,” he says to me.\n\nI bend down for a closer look.\n\n“What’s that look like to you?” He asks, snapping a few more photos with his DSLR.\n\nI get on my knees, closer. Blood. A tiny amount is on the edge of the knife. I’m relieved. If this was the killer’s blood, we might be able to catch the bastard.\n\nI continue my search of the house.\n\nAfter not finding any obvious clues, I start to dig deeper. I find a box in the closet, tucked up on the top shelf in the corner. Inside are photos and some memorabilia; clearly personal effects of the mother.\n\nI glance through the contents, sifting through the photos, catching a brief glimpse of her happy life up until this point. Her old friends and colleagues, where she went to school, her family and other happy memories are tucked away, but not forgotten; a nice thought on this grim day.\n\nSuddenly, an old photograph captures my attention.\n\nI check it twice, three times, four times...\n\nThis picture, I couldn’t explain it. It was clearly an older photo, perhaps 5-10 years, and appeared to be taken with a polaroid. The mother is standing there, on what appears to be the top of a mountain, with a beautiful vista behind her. But standing next to her was somebody I didn’t expect.\n\nMe.\n\nIt was me. My face. My smile. My unadulterated, very sublime smiling face. Her arms, wrapped around me, and mine around hers.\n\n“What the fuck is going on?”\n\nI didn’t know this woman. I didn’t know her husband. I look around. I’ve never seen this place before. I look back at the photograph.\n\n“What the fuck is going on?”\n\nSuddenly, the room begins to spin. I can’t breathe. The photograph explodes into my mind, and I can see everything around me: a beautiful vista, a clear blue sky that goes on forever, the sweet smell of fresh air, and... candy.\n\nCandy. I loved that perfume, it was my favorite, it made my mouth water and I craved it. I look to my right. There she is, so beautiful and elegant, the perfect woman for me. Maria, my highschool sweetheart. Dave, one of my best friends, taking a photograph of us. I take it all in: the beautiful view, the tranquil solitude of being the only ones at the top of the mountain, and my beautiful girlfriend... The smell, the sight, the sound.\n\nSuddenly, I’m back in the bedroom, a box of photographs on my lap. I catch my breath.\n\n“What just happened?”\n\nI’m dazed, confuzed, and my stomach hurts. I fold up the photo I just jumped into and place it in my pocket. I look down, a red smear is showing my shirt. I stand up and look in the mirror over the bedroom dresser. I stare at my face, the same one from the photograph, then I look down at my shirt.\n\n“What is that?”\n\nI begin to unbutton my shirt as the pain on my stomach becomes more pronounced, something I hadn’t noticed until this moment. As I take off my shirt, I’m confused. There, on my stomach is a cut, a 6 inch long gash.\n\n“Where did that come from?”\n\nI press it and I bleed more. The wound is fresh but not deep. I go into the bathroom to clean up. As I think about the crime scene and the strange photograph I found, I vow to find whoever did this. I feel something. They didn’t deserve this. As I finish clearing up my cut, I adjust my badge and prepare for a press briefing, they would be outside within the hour.\n\n“I will find the one that did this.”", "\"The die is cast,\" Random announced to his heterochromia-eyed cat, and tossed his six-sided dice to his desktop.\n\nIt came up four.\n\n\"Gun hero it is,\" Random told his cat, and got up out of his seat to go into his closet. \n\nThe cat watched.\n\nA few minutes and many rolls of the dice later (choosing from six sets of six clothing and accessory options, to include cape and hood took time) Random stepped out of his closet in a silver hoodie, tan combat boots, slacks, a top hat, and with an Uzi and 9mm Glock holstered off each hip.\n\n\"The dice have spoken,\" Random told his cat. \"How do I look?\"\n\nThe cat meowed.\n\n\"Yes,\" Random said. \"The top hat is a nice touch. The dice has decided well.\"\n\nRandom sat back down on his desk and pulled out a map of Edgard. Each district of the city was squared off with a corresponding number; each marked in blue ink.\n\n\"Let's see where the dice declare tonight...\" Random mused to himself, and tossed his dice on his desktop again, where they rattled to a stop.\n\nFour.\n\n\"Ah, yes. The Burroughs. White collar crime.\"\n\nThe cat meowed.\n\n\"I expect not,\" Random answered. He got out of his chair with a swoop of his hood. \"The dice have spoken,\" he said to his cat. \"I'm off.\" He tossed his dice one more time. \"Be...\" He checked the dice. \n\nThree.\n\n\"...cautious.\" Random told his cat. \n\nThe cat meowed.", "Half of New York had been destroyed by a massive swarm of sentient fighter drones and robotic ground troops. It was quickly becoming a burial ground, buildings crumbling down and wildlife burning. \n\nEnigma was looking on at the destruction, pleased with himself and what he'd wrought on humanity. As far as he was concerned, they were all out to get him- but he'd get them first.\n\nA woman was on the ground, holding her infant child, begging \nfor help. \"Please, someone. Please save us before there's nothing left to save,\" she cried out, her voice drowned out by gunfire and the sound of crashing buildings.\n\nThere was one, however, that heard her calling out. \n\nA chunk of the building near her was falling to the ground, threatening to crush them both. She closed her teary eyes, embracing her child and an early death.\n\nWhen she opened her eyes, the wind had blown her tears away. She was flying through the air in the arms of a big, handsome man, long blonde hair fluttering in the wind. He almost seemed to radiate the sunlight glancing off his silver armor. She smiled and cried, knowing her son would get to live a life of his own.\n\nSol placed her down on a small building several blocks away from the commotion, bidding her farewell with a warm, comforting smile. \n\nSol flew over to where he knew Enigma was watching over the disaster, barking orders to his minions. The drones in his way were but flies in need of swatting- destroying Enigma would end the conflict once and for all.\n\n----------------------------------------\n\nEnigma gazed over the turmoil and destruction he'd wrought upon New York City. It brought him such great feelings of pleasure, knowing all the people who scorned him, who gave him dirty looks and judged him, would be destroyed forever. Their eyes would be shut, forever quieting their angry, judgmental gazes.\n\nSol desperately flew from building to building, trying to find Enigma. There is still good in this world you have scorned, Enigma. It is not as bad as you think, though I know you are pained by it. \n\nIt was simple kindnesses, like the smile of that woman he saved, that kept him going; kept him fighting to stay pure in this tainted world. There is still so much this world can offer, if you look past your own wounds. I will find you, Enigma, and show this to you.\n\n----------------------------------------------------\n\n\"How much longer? I can't bear this anymore,\" Julie choked out between her tears. \"It's been two weeks already.\"\n\n\"We don't know. I'm sorry I can't offer you more than that,\" Dr. Banks informed her, trying to be comforting. \"This is the most severe case of Bipolar disorder we've ever seen. It's unprecedented, to be honest. I'm not sure we can even call it that. He seems to be battling in his own mind, his personalities clashing to forever silence the other. There's nothing we can do.\"\n\nJulie gazed at Ben, tossing and turning in his hospital bed. \n\nPlease, Ben. You can fight this." ]	4
	[WP] Make a mundane moment WAY too over-dramatic.	[ "The dark room stands still, alone, and cold. A door swings open to reveal the light of the outside world. No one knows what's out there. There's a loud click at the door that sends beams of electricity through cold glass and setting wires ablaze like an unstoppable inferno. Then the motors overhead are heard spinning, like an eternal torrent that never ceases. White enamel below, and whiter porcelain gleam in the yellow light. IT steps closer. Off of the soft furry wilderness outside and onto the white enamel. IT steps again. Next to the porcelain where the well is found. IT spins the giant boulders, and out from the sky God comes a hot waterfall. It seems the Sky God is appeased with IT. IT grabs the pink goo. and makes the pink goo vomit onto IT'S upper extremities. So strange looking, this creature is. How does it cope with all those moving parts? IT slaps IT'S parts together, making a wet slap with the pink goo. Maybe the pink goo has been punished? IT rubs against the pink goo, and white encircled pockets of air come out. IT has forced the air out of the pink goo. The pink goo is killed, another member from it's clan in their round home. IT then puts IT'S flesh in the well of the Sky God. Clearly he is blessed by the Sky God, and IT has ultimate power. The white air pockets disappear in the well. IT then takes the fur off of the wall, and IT rubs IT'S flesh with the fur. This is the final phase of IT'S Ritual when he is here. Sometimes with bigger furs, sometimes with smaller, and sometimes with white fur, on various parts of IT'S being. IT then leaves. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. An earthquake after every step of IT. Then IT makes the clicking sound again, and the sky fire leaves, and the motors stop making their torrential sound. IT then leaves, and back to darkness. We have survived another time. We don't know why we're here, and we don't know what our purpose here is. All we know is IT.\n\nedit: grammar ", "It was too late. Far, far too late for any of us. We could only stand in horror as the events, apocalyptic occurrences, unfolded in front of us. All we had worked for would soon perish. So cruel, fate is, giving us so much hope before dashing it away from us, hope of escape from inevitable monotony of our lives.\n\nOur red ball rolled into the street. $1.99, SEVEN DAYS OF SAVING UP ON A MEASLY PROLETARIAT ALLOWANCE AMONG THREE MERE CHILDREN, tumbled across the asphalt. We wanted to chase but those bastard metal boxes on wheels zipped back and forth, leaving us no chance of retrieving our prized rubber sphere. \n\nWe knew where it was headed. The dark abyss beckoned to it. The rusted grate looked ever more malicious as the ball rolled closer and closer to the awaiting tartarus. \n\nThe ball started to slow, but not enough. The storm drain seemingly laughed as it swallower our last possibility of entertainment. Our faces became as dark as the gullet of the grate, and we let out in unison a blood-curdling, sorrow-filled scream.\n\n\"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY\"\n\n\"I'LL BUY YOU ANOTHER ONE; PLEASE STOP CRYING!\"\n\n\"ok\"\n\nOur candles of hope were lit yet again by the mercy of Mother.", "\"YOU STOLE MY COOKIE!\" Zack screamed at the top of his lungs to his friend. \"I'm sorry.\" His friend Alex started to cry. She placed his head into hands, tears dripping down her palms. \n\"Don't you fucking cry! Why did you DO IT?!\" He grabs Alex's hands and placed them on the table. \"Now, I'm going to count to three.\" Zack reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a small switchblade. \"1.\" He started as Alex tried to escape, to no avail. \"2.\" He smirked. \"And 3. Okay.\" Zack slammed the knife in between Alex's fingers, missing them slightly. \"I'm sorry...Just don't take my cookie.\"" ]	3
	[WP] In a distant, apocalyptic future the last two nations on Earth have been at war for centuries. They have forgotten why they are even fighting.	[ "\tThe two soldiers stared solemnly over the Thames, quietly smoking their cigarettes. They had been on watch for over 12hrs now and were waiting for they’re replacements from command. \n\n\t\"That's 12 and a half hours down, you owe me that snickers.\" Roberts said looking up from the cracked face of his watch.\n\n“Come on man, just 30 more minutes”, retorted Jones, “I know they’re over there, I can just feel it.”\n\n“Pay up, ain’t nothing been out there for years.” Roberts scoffed and emphasized by spitting into the river. “Besides, what would you do if you even seen one of them?” \n\n“Tell you what I’d do,” Jones said as he raised his rifle to his cheek, “I’d blow a hole clean through their chest! That’s better than they deserve anyway.”\n\n“Alright there battle, calm down...tell me somthin’ Jones, you even know why we’re here?”\n\n“Cause they’re the enemy and they want us dead, best reason I need.”\n\n“Come on now, seriously man you know the reason?” Roberts said somewhat exhausted.\n\n“I don’t know man,” Jones replied in his best whiny voice. “Something to do with two towers or something…maybe oil was in there, man I don’t know.” \n\nRoberts sat down with a sigh, “Yeah, me either man…me either.”\n\nThe soldiers went back to quietly smoking their cigarettes, waiting for relief from command and an enemy they had never seen.\n\n", "Nari glared at the younger girl, willing her to shut up.\n\nNari had spent the week giddy with excitement for the parade. Her teacher had suspended normal classes for a special unit on missiles. Nari was now quite the expert. She could name all of the parts of the missile, the scientists who led its construction, and even explain how it could fly. She loved imagining the missile soaring above the clouds, sparkles trailing behind it like glitter. She frowned. No, that wasn't right. There would be a jet stream, but no sparkles. That was stupid. But when it exploded it would be like fireworks. Fireworks like at a parade. \n\nNari loved parades. She loved her dress uniform, with its heavy folds and the colors of the fatherland. She loved the handsome soldiers marching in step. She loved singing with her fellow classmates, tearing up as she thought of how sad it was that the Enemy wanted to destroy them. She loved the swollen feeling of unity with her friends, with the crowd, with the soldiers, and even, though it was a quivering and embarrassed and hopeful kind of unity, with the Supreme Leader. Unity. Except with the scruffy kid tugging at her sleeve.\n\n\"But think about it!\" Hana whined, brushing her too-long bangs out of her eyes, \"Why are we even at war?\" \n\nThis was too much even for Nari. Her father had forced her to let this Hana tag along with her and her friends, citing compassion as a reason for such embarrassment. The girl was excluded from most activities in the school yard. It was whispered that her family was wavering in their dedication to the fatherland. Moreover, she was stupid and daydreamy, falling asleep during lessons and drifting around the neighborhood like a little ghost, squinting through oversized glasses that belonged to her older brother. Her older brother had disappeared years before, and good riddance, too. No one liked him either. \n\n\"You idiot!\" Nari snapped. \"Everyone knows that. You would too if you paid any attention at all. We've been at war for sixty-six years.\"\n\nNoticing the annoyed glances of some nearby adults, she lowered her voice and grabbed Hana's hand tightly, digging her fingernails in for good measure. \"Now shut up! Soon the missile will pass us.\"\n\nHana started to respond, but a good fingernail dig cut her off. In stony silence, the girls watched a marching band stream by. Slowly, Nari relaxed. Hana didn't mean to be so rude. She was just stupid. How embarrassing for her that her brother had disappeared the way he had. And the rumors about her family. It must be difficult. As Nari's favorite anthem played, her spirit rose and a warm feeling rose up in her gut and tightened her throat. This must be that compassion her father had spoken of. Poor Hana. No friends and a bad haircut.\n\n\"Come on, Hana! Let's go see it. I have an idea.\"\n\nHolding her hand more gently now, Nari ducked through the crowd, weaving between the adult's legs and dodging the pompoms and flags swinging in time with the music. The songs were growing more dramatic now. The marching band was gone, replaced by lines and lines of soldiers. The megatron showed Supreme Leader staring solemnly out at the crowd, far away on a grand pavilion in the city center. A small screen in the bottom corner showed women crying and shouting, overcome with emotion as they walked past him. \n\nAround them, the crowd grew excited. They knew the missile was coming.\n\nThere it was! Nari spotted her uncle's pharmacy, located in the ground floor of a tall, narrow building. The door was locked and covered in flags, because it was a national holiday. Slyly, Nari slid her hand into a secret flap under the letter box, retrieving the key. She opened the door just a crack and wiggled through, pulling Hana behind her and locking it as soon as she was inside. \n\n\"Come on!\" The girls ran up the staircase in the back of the store, all the way up to the second floor, where her uncle's apartment stood near and empty. They pressed their noses against the window overlooking the street. \n\nBelow them, the crowd cheered. Now, however, instead of peering around the legs and waists of adults, they had a clear view down the street. It was coming! \n\nIt was smaller than Nari had imagined. It was smooth and long, like a shiny red shark. She imagined it flying through the sky, sun glinting off its nose, with glitter, yes, because she could picture it however she wanted, streaming behind it.\n\nNari grinned. Her teacher had announced that next week there would be a contest for the most accurate sketch of the missile. She doubted that any of her classmates had such a good view of the missile. She shut her eyes tight, taking an imaginary photograph of it. She could already imagine the smooth pencil lines she would use to show its edges and the glint of the sun.\n\n\"Let's go Hana! Now that we've seen it we should meet at the school. Teacher says we should all do the procession together after the missile passes. She says maybe if we leave early enough we will even walk in front of Supreme Leader!\" Nari smiled. No response.\n\n\"Hana!\" Nari wanted to kill her. The kid still had her forehead against the window, but was not looking at the parade. Instead, she was staring at a pigeon pecking at something on the awning just below them. She had her brother's glasses on the tip of her nose and was slowly lifting them and lowering them, squinting at the change of focus as she studied the bird. Her lips were twisted in a grimace as she absently chewed on her lower lip. \n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Did you even see the missile?\"\n\n\"Yea, I saw it. Did you know that in the lands of the Enemy, some people think white pigeons are sacred?\"\n\nPigeons? Now Nari knew Hana was crazy. She took a deep breath, reminding herself to be kind. \"I did not know that. We should go now. Give me those.\"\n\nNari gently took Hana's glasses from her nose. She dug around in her backpack and found a little red flag she had been saving to wave in the procession. Her teacher would have more. She carefully wrapped the glasses in it, covering the lenses and tying it with a hair tie. She put the glasses in her pencil box in the bottom of the backpack.\n\n\"They'll be safe here. Now hurry! We'll be late.\" \n\nNari looked confused for a moment, but then nodded. \"Okay, let's go.\"\n\nThe girls stood up and walked towards the door. \n\nSuddenly, Nari whirled around screaming. \"I hate parades! I hate them!\" She ran back to the window, throwing herself against the glass, fists slamming the pane again and again. Swearing under her breath, Nari tore after her, knocking her to the floor and wrapping her arms around the girl's small torso, holding her hands tight to stop her from breaking the window. \n\nSuddenly, Hana went limp. \"Look!\" She breathed, tear-streaked eyes staring up at the gray sky. The pigeon, startled by the banging, was flying. \n\nThe girls watched the bird flap away over the joyful crowd. For a moment, Nari noticed how pretty the white looked against all the red and grey of the street decorations. She imagined it soaring above the clouds, trailing glitter behind it.\n\nThat was stupid. Birds don't trail glitter. She shook her head. \"Let's get out of here. Stop being so crazy.\"\n", "After the crushing defeat of the Exiled nation second fleet, the people of Zenith finally had something to celebrate. David who was only on board to document the war had suddenly been requested to the captains compartment. Stumbling into the room nervously, David stood in front of the captain at his best attempt of an attention.\n\n\"David, I need you to go on a special assignment for Zenith, call it...a propaganda project if you will.\" The captain leaned back waiting for David to respond. \"Captain, I'm only a historian here for the documentation of our war, I can't fight, what...what do you think I can help with?\"\n\nDavid seemed more nervous than necessary, but thinking to himself, the captain liked it, made him feel more in control. \"David we need you to visit our desolate origin world...with soldiers. As part of the upcoming celebration, we'd like to remind everyone what all the loss of life, monet, time , etc has been for. We need to rally the citizens and soldiers alike to push forward and end this conflict!\" Now understanding his role, he quickly accepted, and was immediately deployed to the lost planet, a once beautiful blue and green marble in a once peaceful galaxy. \n\nUpon landing, David ordered the soldiers to gather the gear and they set out on the now desert like planet. Weeks of the same routine went by, David entered buildings, explored the logs his specialty tools could collect and moved on. The captain wasn't shy about his impatience, he wanted results. \n\nFinally it dawned on David that if they remained in the lab on the planet, and launched their shuttle into orbit temporarily, he could scan the entire planet, using the additional processing power to cut down the time.\n\nFour days later, David woke up to an alarm he thought he'd never hear \"Conflict Origin status - One possible match.\" The team quickly returned the shuttle to pick them up and set out to the source.\n\nUpon arrival, David set up his tools, and again tied them to the additional computers to boost power. What David found was...not what he expected. Upon his report to the Captain, David has almost been laughed out of the airlock.\n\n\"David\" the Captain spoke, this time holding back his anger \"do you think I'm an idiot, how am I supposed to tell all of our people, your people, that the reason we have been at war is because of an ancient relic called Monopoly? \" David stood is ground, the evidence was irrefutable. \n\nAt the day of the celebration, the Captaun addressed the city and all of Zenith, \"Attention..now it comes time to reveal the conflict origin. I cannot lie to you, the truth will be gruesome to some, unsettling to others, but the world should remember. \" The captain sighed, \"well here we go, the reason this war began...is because the president of the Exiled and president of what is now Zenith were brothers, and that our great leaders brother, the cowardly bastard..refused to pay rent on the hotel on park place.\n\nSilence across the crowd that felt like it lasted a century. Then finally shouts could be made out.\n\n\"Make them pay!\"\n\"He's a monster\"\n\"Kill the Exhiled\"\n\nThe captain smiled, looking to David he gave his nod of approval. \"The General will love this news \"\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] A good-natured but somewhat incompetent fairy grants your wish for a superpower. It's a bit off of what you expected, but you make due with what you got.	[ "I walked through that ever familiar street, surveying the hellish scene unfolding around me. In the distance, two people stood on thin air, yelling and screaming at each other furiously. I looked towards my feet, but saw only a vast sea of black, dotted with pieces of metal and the remains of some ancient creature the likes of which would never be seen again. A voice called out to me, and I turned to look in its direction. I saw only a group of skeletal figures, walking towards me as if they were offering a friendly greeting. It was at this moment that I realized just how bad x-ray vision could be.\n\n((okay matt i did it))", "I never wanted to be a hero like this. But I had it thrust upon me by that goddamn fairy.\n\nFor the few days afterwards, I tried activating it any way I could- I remember wishing in my head, chanting bullshit like \"Superpowers activate!\" and making hand signals. I eventually decided it was probably a hallucination. After all, they said too many drugs would fry your brain, and I had definitely smoked a brain-frying amount of weed that night. \n\nI had dismissed it until about two weeks later when I accidentally found myself about to be crushed by a speeding truck. Look, don't ask why I was in front of a truck, I have my reasons. I had clenched all my muscles up, bracing for impact- and then suddenly felt my body turning into a rock-solid material. The truck bounced harmlessly off of me, and I emerged unscathed. \n\nThat was when I realized two things. One, that I had somehow earned the superpower te change my molecular composition to be entirely rock. And two, that the way to activate superpowers is to close both of your hands into a fist, hold them against your tits, and shut your eyes as tight as you can. I don't tell most people that one. \n\nThe next night I fought my first criminal, a man who accosted me in the park with a knife. I laughed at him as his knife shattered against my literally rock-hard abs, then punched him in the stomach, sending him falling to the ground. \n\nIt's been two years since then. I've stopped countless muggings and tracked down the leaders of several gangs. I've detained The Atomic Beagle, the Interminator, The Connecticut Ghost, and 1-Armed Allie, none of whom could stand up to the sheer strength of my stone form. The city, finally, is safe at night, protected by The Gargoyle.\n\nI finally saw that fairy again today. She appeared suddenly, hovering above my desk as I was packing a bowl. \n\n\"Hey!\" she exclaimed, \"You're uh... you're the one I gave rock powers to, right?\"\n\n\"Yeah that was me,\" I replied.\n\nShe paused conspicuously, her face the expression of someone trying to goad you into a thank you. \"Well, do you like them?\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" I replied, \"but it's not really what I had in mind when I wished I were always stoned.\"", "The cool air brushes past me as I focus my willpower to cut through the wind.\n\nMy feet are fifty feet above the ground as I fly through the summer breeze, zig-zagging just to show off. A quiet hum emerges from me as I look around me.\n\nPeople are having fun and it seems that they're not paying me any attention. From where I'm flying, they're a much different size than from when I walk with them. \n\nStill, it's pretty useful.\n\nI thread the air in a standstill as I take a look at my surroundings. The giant blades of grass dance around me and I see another bird eyeing me as their prey. The gargantuan beverage right below me seemed particularly tasy.\n\nI had sworn I had asked the fairy to give me the power to fly, not the power to turn into a fly." ]	3
	[WP] You are the god of Earth, but the human race think they just disproved your existence...	[ "God No Longer Exists \n\nIn the style of Twitter.\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 7\n\nEli was doing math you guys. #SB50\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 8\n\nHappy Chinese New Year\n\n\n\n\nGod Retweeted \n\nTWINE @iamtwine ∙ Feb 9\n\nPlans for today:\n\n\n3pm: get wasted #FatTuesday\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\nFeeling it already. Good luck @VisitNewOrleans\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\n@bacoNATEr22 In Antarctica. I like to drink my alcohol cold. And alone. \n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\nMaking a new species, brb. \n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\nWhat ‘til you guys see what I made. The best ideas are drunk ideas. #GiantPanda \n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\n@jessababycat I can’t force Apple to release their new products any sooner. #iPray2\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\nAny good movies out right now?\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\nSeriously, I heard you @LeoDiCaprio\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\n@LordLucifer What club are you at?\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\n@Pontifex That’s tomorrow? Crap. \n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\n@Pontifex Just tell them I’m sick.\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\n@kanyewest GTFO\n\n\n\n\nGOD @biggeezus ∙ Feb 9\n\nDear everyone, I’m going on spring break forever. Love, God\n\n\n\n\n\n\n*******\n\n\n\n\n\n“Now, when we try to access his Twitter page online, we get this…”\n\nSorry, that page doesn’t exist!\n\n“But the screenshot shows that God was clearly set off by Mr. West’s remarks. I think he may have been a little depressed as well, but the point is, he’s gone.”\n\nNo one in the deliberation room moved. President Obama kept his gaze fixed on an imaginary point in front of him. “Mr. President,” said the secret service agent a few seats down, his hand pressed against the earpiece he was wearing. “It appears we have a situation.”\n\n\n\n\n\n****\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPresident Obama** @POTUS ∙ Feb 9\n\nShit. \n", "They know nothing. \n\nThey have tracked the movement of the spheres, and found the patterns thereof, and think it makes them masters of creation. \n\nThey have found the code of all life, learnt to crudely cut and stitch it together to alter my designs. They think they have defeated age, illness, death.\n\nThey have split the motes of creation into ever smaller parts, until they can no longer perceive them, and call their limitations universal laws. \n\nI set the spheres in motion. I wrote the code that governs all life. I formed something out of nothing, created heat where there was none, sent light across creation and waited for it on the other side. \n\nAnd now they - fragile, naked apes, still fearing the dark - think that I am gone? Think, with their gropings at fundamental truth, that they have proved me false? They dare to think me myth, a construct of their own minds. And having decided they created me, think that they can so destroy me. \n\nI will not fade away. Their belief is not my necessity. I was neither created by them, nor can be removed by them. I am. \n\nThey are my creation. A construct of my own mind. A moment's diversion in eternity, an idle thought given play. They exist upon my sufferance. They have forgotten the true way of all things.\n\nI will stretch out my hand upon the waters, and they will rise. I will call fire from the earth. I will shake the stars in the sky.\n\nLet them know their error. Let those who whistle in the darkness remember my name. They shall cower in the rubble of their arrogance, prostrate themselves before the glory they deny. \n\nI will shatter creation so that they remember their ignorance, and remember my commandment: fear the Lord thy god. ", "\"They did what?\"\n\nThe Allmighty looked at Jesus with disbelief. They were eating breakfast and Jesus had just taken a bit of his bacon, so God had to wait while Jesus chewed slowly.\nWhen he had finished he favoured him with a cocky halfsmile and amusement shining in his eyes.\n\n\"They disproved you.\"\n\nGod couldn't stop himself from laughing out loud. Disproved him? How can one even disprove God? He asked Jesus.\n\n\"They had a big discussion with some of the most intelligent humans. I don't remember it too well, it was awfully logical.\"\n\nHe made the word sound like an insult.\n\n\"Oh come on, Jesus. You must remember something!\"\n\n\"Well, someoe told a tale about a stone, that even you can't lift.\"\n\n\"A stone that i can't lift? That is their proof? Show me that stone and I will prove the opposite.\"\n\n\"It was a theoretical stone.\"\n\n\"A theoretical stone?\"\n\nJesus story was getting more and more bizarre. Why would the humans think he couldn't lift a theoretical stone? He was omnipotent, he could lift any stone he damn well pleased.\n\n\"He asked, whether an omnipotent being could create a stone, that this very omipotent being could not lift.\"\n\n\"Well of course I can!\"\n\nGod created a stone, that he himself couldn't lift.\n\nAnd God saw that it was good. God dismissed the thought.\n\"Every bloody time I create something\" he muttered to himself.\n\n\"What did you say?\"\n\n\"Nothing, go on.\"\n\n\"Well, you see the argument went, that now there is a stone, that you cannot lift, so you are not omnipotent anymore.\"\n\n\"But I can lift it!\"\n\nHe lifted the stone.\n\n\"Yes, in that case, you are unable to create an unliftable stone.\"\n\n\"I just showed you I can!\"\n\nHe created another unliftable stone, identical to the first one.\n\nAnd God saw that it was good\nHe made a face and tried to not think about creation for a while.\n\n\"Can you prove, that this stone is unliftable\"\n\nJesus smiled at him, mockingly.\n\n\"I can see what you meant when you said it was logical. The humans and their logic. Hah!\"\nHe grinned at Jesus.\n\n\"Have you told Satan?\"\n\n\"No need. He was there.\"\n\n\"Of course he was, the old fucker. He has spent so much time with the humans, he has almost become one. Sometimes I wonder if he's playing games with us.\"\n\n\"I don't think so. He's to clever to be smart. He still believes in seduction. His own church doesn't believe in him anymore. They are basically atheists with a need for attention.\"\n\n\"He should join his own church then.\"\n\nJesus laughed at that.\n\nGod thought about the humans.They sure were a hopeless bunch, but not lost. Never lost. \nHe had been very suprised, when his universe had suddenly produced life. Tiny little things in the water with no percepton at all. Not really conscious but definitely alive. \n\nHe hadn't dared to hope, they would evolve, but they had. They had grown fins and roots and legs and wings and now they were everywhere. The whole planet was so full of life and the humans, they ruled it all.\nAnd they had produced Jesus. He couldn't have said why, but when Jesus had been born, he had looked at the Earth and he had smiled and named the little boy his own. He had never regretted that decision. Jesus had become more then he would ever have dared to hope.\n\nAnd humanity, they were still in their baby shoes. (Another thing he loved about humans. Who gives shoes to babies? He had to chuckle at the thought of tiny human feet in their tiny baby shoes.) Some day humanity would ascend. They would grow and grow, until they grew out of their limited little minds and they would become like him.\n\nJesus had been the first sign of that and since Satan wasn't a threat anymore, he was sure, they would become a new deity. \n\nAnd he would be their proud father." ]	3
	[WP] "So, what's your story?"	[ "It wasn't a dive bar. The stools were clean and the floor, for the most part, wasn't covered in a layer of human waste. Neither was it an upscale snob-ridden winebar with the kind of clientele that had no compunctions dropping a hundred dollars on a bottle but when it came time to pay the bill the tip always came in light.\n\nNo, it was just a bar, out on the highway in between Somewhere and Elsewhere. Coral had been thirsty for a long time. This would be the last stop she had to make, pulling off the highway and parking in the vacant lot.\n\n\"What'll it be?\"\n\nThe bartender appeared from behind the bar. Old. Belly going but tats on his arms that showed a more active youth. Coral took a stool and drummed her fingers on the counter. He glanced her way.\n\n\"You just thinking little lady or you light on the green?\"\n\n\"I'll trade you.\"\n\n\"Oh no, cash or get out.\"\n\n\"What about a story?\"\n\n\"I don't read.\"\n\n\"Give me a drink and I'll talk.\"\n\nThe bartender grumbled but eventually popped the cap on a cheap domestic. Coral took a long swig and enjoyed the feeling of the condensation under her fingers.\n\n\"So, what's your story?\"\n\nShe took another sip and smiled. She'd told it so many times before. Where to begin.\n\n\"There was a cop. He was a good cop, a good man. He worked hard trying to make a difference. This guy, he was committed. He went undercover, broke up a few meth rings and got a taste for it. When he transferred to the DEA he went deep.\n\n\"Now being undercover is hard. He'd got a newlywed back home but he didn't get to visit all that often. He loved her. Loved her hard. But he knew every time he went home he was putting her at risk. If some junkie saw him questions would be asked.\n\n\"And then she got pregnant.\"\n\nCoral took another sip. The bar was deserted and probably would be until the evening shift came in.\n\n\"So. The cop, he's in deep with this out-of-state group. Real militia nuts. Pretty soon he's helping them shift drugs for rifles, that kind of thing, building a case. And then the call comes and his wife, she's on her way to the hospital, and he rushes to meet her and when he sees his kids eyes for the first time, he's a changed man. He wants out. Needs it.\n\n\"On the way out, he's just looking at the two most important people in his life, and he's just loving them. Loving them so much. He doesn't clock the meathead in the waiting room, some dumb slab who he's traded a few glocks to in the past. But the meathead, he sees this lieutenant, with a cozy little family, and the gears in his head are whirring and he tells the bossman.\n\n\"It was simple. Swift. They found the house and they used those rifles and those thousands of rounds and they turned it into swiss cheese. You should have seen the sidewalk when they'd finished, it was like a sea of bronze.\"\n\nShe finished the beer and let the bottle slide through her fingers until she was holding it by the neck. The bartender had stopped his cleaning. Stopped looking at the road for cars. Stopped doing everything except staring at this woman.\n\n\"They didn't catch the guys who did it. It took me ten years to get into the sealed files. I pulled a few strings, got the names and aliases and the web of dirtbags and I started hunting them down.\n\n\"Michaels in Arizona. Garan had gone all the way to Portland but I put a round through his skull. Wayne and Rick didn't go far; burnt them both. But I couldn't find him. The boss man. The one who drove them out there and made them pull the trigger.\"\n\n\"That was a long time ago,\" he said.\n\n\"You killed him. You killed them both. My parents.\"\n\n\"He was a narc.\"\n\n\"And you're out of time. Thanks for the beer.\"", "Dale took a swig of his ale, though it did nothing for his vacant frown. \"I lost my best friend,\" he said, followed by another swig.\n\nGregory, the barkeep, sat across the counter, which was bare save for their two drinks. He twitched his head towards the clock behind him, but forced himself to look back at Dale.\n\n\"Hunting accident?\" Gregory asked hesitantly.\n\nDale shook his head. \"Serpents took 'im.\" Another swig.\n\nGregory leaned back, eyes wide. \"Serpents round these parts? An did ye kill em?\"\n\n\"I would. Down to the last hatchling even. Slithering devils disappeared before I could even hack a tail off.\"\n\nGregory quickly took a swig from his own mug and muttered a curse. \"Thousand blights upon them and blessings upon ye. Would that I were younger, I'd hunt them down with ye.\"\n\nDale nodded slowly and raised his mug to Gregory. \"Had I but the fountain of youth. To your health.\"\n\nGregory raised his mug. \"To your friend.\"\n\nThey drank, and all was silent except for the crackling of the dim fireplace. ", "######[](#dropcap)\n\nWillem Locke took another drag of his lho-stick, the cherry-tip glowing bright for a moment before he flicked the ashes into the tray in the center of the table. Him, and the rest of his section sat across from another group of guardsmen, their uniforms worlds different. Whereas Locke and the rest of the Mortanis 9th wore dark blue coveralls and midnight black webbing, their drinking companions were clad in scarlet coats trimmed with gold thread. Most of them wore facial hair, beards and carefully cultivated mustaches waxed and curled to perfection. The Mortanis on the other hand had varying degrees of stubble; enough to protect the face from grit and sparks without danger of catching in dangerous equipment. \n\nThey sat in one of the makeshift bars that littered this deck of the Azure Hope, a ramshackle arrangement of tables and trash walls that was just one of many like it, all lining a concourse label 'Treasure Row.' A wall of bright copper pots and kettles was where the bar's owner made his own brew, a series of stacked drums that once held promethium were currently filled with the latest batch of beer. Locke had expressed surprise the first time he tasted the stuff, even more amazed as he didn't go blind from whatever additives were put in it. That made it one of the better brews as far as rotgut was concerned. \n\nBoth parties spoke Low Gothic in their own distinct accents, the redcoats' tinged with wealth and history, the Mortanis by the harsh necessities of working in a sunless environment. \n\n\"So,\" asked the leader of the redcoats, a white bearded man by the name of Alexei. \"Is this your first campaign?\"\n\nCarlin Mor, former mine-tram operator turned guardsman spoke.\n\n\"Neh, this isn't our first shift. We saw action one Verocrux Beta.\"\n\n\"Xeno-corsairs, Eldar,\" added Allin Greer. He was busy gnawing on a skewer of grilled meat and vegetables, his fingers wet with grease.\n\n\"Eldar?\" another one of the bearded redcoats said, his eye cocked in surprise. \"How did that pan out?\"\n\nLocke spoke.\n\n\"Truth be told, if they bothered to try they could've wiped the floor with us. They came in screaming with cannons blazing, blowing up a third of the base we were stationed at and landed at least a battalion of troops. Didn't charge us, didn't bother destroying the rest of the barracks as they prowled the ruins they made. Whatever it was it must have made changes to their plans because they starting striking out across the whole world. Rumor was that they uncovered a piece of archeotech and wanted to keep us from having it. Lost about a company in the fight.\"\n\n\"Well you'll see more of them where we're going,\" said the white haired redcoat. \"Reports place lots of the bastards trailing-ward. Seems the knife ears have their own business in the Laconia Sector.\"\n\nThe two groups let the matter drop, both aware that they'd find out more than they'd like when they arrived at their destination. That was the life of an Imperial Guardsman; stretches of boredom punctuated by moments of shear terror. Tough shit. \n\n " ]	3
	[WP] "Don't you ever get tired of looking up?"	[ "Tartarus be the belly; my grievance be the beast. I am tempted to ponder that shade which blackened-burns cling upon the ceiling, one whose rocky walls of despair hold up as Atlas would have held the Earth. He is not real, for we, the damned, hold up the world above. \n\nKnowing this now, I look up in the direction of those I once knew in life, perhaps they may grace me with a glimmer of unreserved mortality. Perhaps they may smile upon me in some unseen way. Perhaps they will one day tear into the belly of this beast that they call Hell and drag me up by my outstretched hand.\n\nAnd all this while I entertain the thought that mine eyes haven't seen Chaos as he lives and breathes; everyday, I see Him stretch his body immaculate, and everyday I look upon the most destructive force I can never understand. My mind would have been ripped apart only glimpsing the form of Chaos before, now I only despair. Still, I cast mine eyes above, and mine heart beyond, thinking love long lost...", "A boy sat down at the park bench, alone he just plays with the silver ring around his finger. He remembers his grandfather's exact words, \"Now now sonny, don't cry grand pappy ain't dead yet, hey u know what you've been a good boy for this long you deserve a present\". After that day, his grandfather had started the eternal sleep. The boy now looked up at the gloomy sky,it was gray like the pavement of a suburban sidewalk. He pondered just as he always pondered, why me why did it have to be me god. He then thought of his mother she was a good women, did what she had to getting the boy out of trouble and in the good hands of school. The boy's thoughts shifted to his father a sickening man, of course that what his mom said about him, the boy never seen the guy. He wondered, if he wasn't born would that man have stayed, would his mom be happier, potentially would his parents have had more time to plan a life together. The boy sighed, god seems to be punishing his mother and father for sin, but god seems to forget that in away the boy is getting punished to watch a mother who is hanging on a thread and a father who faces a fear of returning. Then suddenly a girl just his age walks up to the boy and says the very simple line of\n\n\"Don't you ever get tired of looking up?\"", "“Don't you ever get tired of looking up?”\n\nI thought about the question, I'm very rarely asked questions. Sometimes I do get tired. When my neck hurts and my body slumps and I think: why does it have to be me doing this? But then other times, looking up seems like the only thing I should be doing. It's not just my job, it's my duty. If I wasn't the person looking up then it would just be some other sod's job, and I doubt they would do it as well as I do. I've been doing it so long, and so reliably, I don't think I could trust anyone to replace me, not these days, not this generation. They would get distracted, they would fidget, look away. There is one rule in my job, and that is to never look away. Not under any circumstances, it simply isn't worth it. \n\n“Sometimes,” I reply, “but I still have to do it.”\n\n“But you still can't tell me why you do it?”\n\n“That,” I smile, my eyes still not drifting from above, “would be more than my jobs worth.”", "I lay upon the ground and stared at the stars.\n\nI was one of the fortunate few who had been able to emigrate from Earth to one of the colonies on another world, an alien world around an alien sun with alien life. None was intelligent though. Just not of our homeworld. \n\nMy head was nestled in the alien grass analog. My eyes were fixed on the stars. My eyes wandered from star to star. Wondering, pondering, hoping, questing. Never really resting.\n\nI raised my hand upwards and stretched it as though attempting to reach the stars. Some deep yearning guiding my fingers to attempt to touch, to stroke, to grasp those bright points of light.\n\nI was not alone. My other hand was held and warm in the grasp of the one I loved. The one I cared for. The one whom I hoped would be mine forever. Or at least in this life time.\n\nI watched my fingers caress each star, each system around them or so I imagined, each twinkling light. Hoping, yearning, dreaming. I looked and watched and wondered. \n\nMy hand was squeezed. Lightly, lovingly, caringly, but a bit concerned.\n\n\"Don't you ever get tired of looking up? Looking outward? Looking to the new vista?\"\n\nI squeezed back. I knew the question was important to my significant other. That it might implications for the future. For our future. But the best policy would be to just be truthful, for the truth will out. And if I had not answered honestly now, the foundation of what we had would be rotten, poorly poured and poorly set, and would fall away in time.\n\n\"No,\" I replied, hoping for the best reaction, \"I don't. I can't. We're all standing in the mud, but some of us are yearning for the stars.\"\n\nedit: stupid word I get humiliated for. frak." ]	4
	[WP] You're the time traveler who killed Hitler. As punishment for damaging the timeline, you're sentenced to REPLACE Hitler.	[ "\"…Errrr. I, um. I don't know if I can.\"\n\n\n\"Sorry, but you've got no choice. You royally fucked up the timeline, so you gotta fix it. Hitler needs to rise to power. World War 2 needs to happen. The fact of the matter is, without everyone killed during Hitler's reign and World War 2, the population soars out of control even sooner than it did in the original timeline, and the technology capable of offsetting the effects of global warming and overpopulation simply doesn't develop fast enough. Millions may have died during World War 2, but that's nothing compared to the near extinction of humanity. Look at it this way; right now, mathematically you're officially 10 billion times worse than Hitler, so taking over his position will actually be a huge step up for you.\" \n\n\n\"But… How is this going to work, exactly?\"\n\n\n\"…Well, you're not going to like it, but we'll have to begin with reconstructive surgery. During your recovery, you'll need to master speaking German. Luckily, you won't need to be perfectly fluent, just enough to get by in day to day conversation without arousing suspicion. As long as you focus on mastering the speeches and pronunciations regarding all major war time decisions, the timeline should happen relatively as planned. Thankfully, the original Hitler's done most of the legwork for you, so it won't be terribly difficult to turn you into a convincing replacement.\"\n\n\n\"Reconstructive surgery…\" I gulped. \n\n\n\"Yes. Reconstructive surgery.\" \n\n\n\"Even… Uh…\"\n\n\n\"…Yes.\"\n\n\nI instinctively looked down and folded my arms and legs together, cringing. \n\n\n\"…Well, if it makes you feel better, Hitler did a lot of drugs.\"\n\n\n...It didn't make me feel better.", "YOU LOSE\n\nPalo37: \"i cant belive this\"\n\nPalo37: \"ur too gud.\"\n\nSwastickler_z: \"naw, man. im sure u can win next match.\"\n\nGit_Gud: \"this game suks anyway\"\n\nSwastickler_z: \"whatever u say. but u rly should just git gud lol\"\n\nMATCH START\n\nGit_Gud: \"i call bs and heres why.\"\n\nGit_Gud: \"games horribly unbalanced. mind unraveler is op and the other items suck\"\n\nPalo37: \"WTF? i blew him up that time! he was right next to the bomb! how'd he live???\"\n\nGoringisBoring: \"Yeah, the bombs don't work on him. The guns keep missing too. Only way is demoralize him and suicide him.\"\n\nGit_Gud: \"only way Swasy plays. great, hitlers hiding now.\"\n\nYOU LOSE\n\nGit_Gud left the game.\n\nPalo37: \"he won again\"\n\nSwastickler_z: \"just get the demoralizer and wargoods before me and u can win too lol.\"\n\nMATCH START\n\nxCrossXfit: \"its the same game ovr and over. no wonder evryone moved to killing Stalin. hell killing isis would prob be more fun\"\n\nPalo37: \"wut? no thats boring.\"\n\nGoringisBoring: \"that's the joke.\"\n\nGoringisBoring: \"Hey, let's play the mod instead. The one that adds more features.\"\n\nxCrossXFit: \"any good?\"\n\nPalo37: \"ok. msgd Git_Gud.\"\n\nGoringisBoring: \"Yeah, better balancing and Hitler doesn't need to be the leader to play.\"\n\nGit_Gud: \"sry. dc'd. DLing it now.\"\n\nYOU LOSE\n\nGit_Gud: \"wow...\"\n\nSwastickler_z: \"wait, wut? wheres hitler then.\"\n\nNow Moving To... Hit_Mod\n\nGoringisBoring: \"He's an architect.\"\n\nPalo37: \"thats stupid. y wud they do that\"\n\nxCrossXFit: \"are you srs? set ur gametime 2 his younger years.\"\n\nGit_Gud: \"hey, get Swasy 2 be boss.\"\n\nGit_Gud: \"it'll be great.\"\n\nSwastickler_z: \"naw, that's lame.\"\n\nPalo37 has called a vote!\n \n Nominate Swastickler_z for Nazi boss?\n \n * 1 for Yes\n \n * 2 for No\n \n\n...\n\n...\n\nVOTE PASSED\n\nMATCH START\n\nPalo37: \"lol\"\n\nSwastickler_z: \"wow. thx guys.\"\n\nGoringisBoring: \"You owe us for putting up with your cheap tricks. Now stay still so I can try this dildo gun.\"\n\nSwastickler_z: \"get away!\"\n\nSwastickler_z: \"wtf Palo. No team killing.\"\n\nPalo37: \"they did it in vanila\"\n\nxCrossXFit: \"found a Jaeger.\"\n\nYOU WIN\n\nxCrossXFit: \"lol found new op strat\"\n\nGit_Gud: \"woot'\n\nSwastickler_z: \"next game im taking one to the moon.\"", "Well, I did it. It wasn't supposed to be possible, paradoxes and all that, they said. So the national science agency made some money on the side letting people go back to try to change things. Every year a few thousand people paid to try to kill Hitler, usually they just broke a leg, sometimes they got shot, but overall the certainty of their causality equations meant no one could actually do it.\n\nI won a call in spot with my local radio station, giving away one free ticket to try to kill Hitler. Mostly I just wanted to experience time travel, when a two hour trip costs more than most people's houses it was something someone like me would probably never be able to afford. \n\nAnyway, oops. It turns out causality was weirder than expected. The more Hitler's death, or anything in the past, would affect you the traveler, the more unlikely it was you would change it. But not impossible. Just unlikely. And my family had spent the last century or so being fairly self reliant on our little farm, unlike most of the wealthy or scientifically trained traveler's for whom a change to that timeline would change things a lot. I thought it'd be funny to film myself dropping a piano on his head, and the radio station helped me fund the prank. Since the earth moved in time, you had to carefully adjust for motion, they paid a bit more to have me flash in about 60 feet above Adolf with a piano dangling from the machine, I'd cut the cord, record whatever history did to stop it from working, and be back before the machine finished it's several minute descent to the ground.\n\nWell, it turns out it worked. The piano fell on his head, he died. Now they're prepping another time machine. The courts weren't sure how to handle this, but they've decided my punishment (since I signed a form acknowledging all legal liability blah blah blah) was some facial reconstruction surgery, and that they'd drop me in and remove his body simultaneously. They're telling me not to change anything, that I've done enough damage already. But what the hell. I get to go back in time and take the place of one of the most transformative slapstick comedians of all time. Everyone dreamed of actually killing him during one of his transformative death defying tricks, especially with all the jokes he made about challenging \"future time travelers\" to come get him. Now I've got to go back in time, and live out my life in the 1930s. I've got full knowledge of everything he did to truly usher in a new era of arts and entertainment, and I hope I can live up to his legacy!", "\"Dude, you're literally worse than Hitler,\" John said, he was still talkin -- though I'd honestly tuned out around the time I realized this wasn't the right universe. I must've swapped an 0 with an O, zigged when I should've zagged or just took a wrong turn at Albuquerque. \n\nIt didn't really matter, though John was no babbling on about my punishment, something about going back to my fuhr torture and killing 1.28 jews or something like that. \n\nLike I said, I wasn't really paying attention to John and his constant incessant blathering -- \"You can't just kill Hitler, you just can't! And you said this was a game? Do this look like a fucking game to you.\"\n\n\"Right, no. This looks like i'm at the wrong place at the wrong time, John,\" I said, \"But hey, I did learn something from this whole experience...\"\n\n\"And what's that?\" John's gratting voice scratched at my ears like a bristle pads.\n\n\"Well, first I learned that everyone seems to really hate Hitler -- I don't get the distain for his art work, personally -- but hey, to each his own.\" \n\nI didn't even look up at John as i fiddled with my Portal Gun, \"And Secondly, I learned that you're nothing but an asshole in every universe I go too, I mean I already knew that to being with, but I figured I might as well tell this version of you the same thing I told the last version of you.\"\n\n\"Guards!\" John shouted.\n\n\"Right, Call for your goonies,\" My finger quivered as I pointed the gun at the wall, \"Good luck with that and good luck with your uncultured life style.\"\n\nI pulled the trigger and instead of a brilliant splash of swirly whitish-green light, i was greeted by a thunking sound from the device. As the guards flung me down to the ground, I shouted :\"Well, fuck.\" \n\n*\n\nThe whole time travel business is fun but there's two modes of travel with two drastically different forms of fun. The first version, my version, the one and only true version -- involves flying yourself into reverse at faster than light speeds (This only works for backwards time-travel), it's a thrill ride and fun as hell.\n\nThe other version is a bit more... boring. Around the year 2096, after trying for damn near a century to successfully preserver the human body through cryogenics -- the Costa 'Iv Qel Corporation discovered by sheer accident that cryogenics doesn't preserver people for the future, but rather for the past. It was a bit of a shocking revelation that was given a lot of flack until the day that someone woke up in the past and change the timeline so that it was common sense; in that timeline C.I.Q corp died out and was considered the largest laugh shock in the past century.\n\nWhen i finally came too in the past -- I found myself yawning louder than I'd ever yawned in my life. My hands rubbed at my eyes, flicked at the small patch of hair that tickled my nose every time I breathed. I was standing outside of a school -- the place looked familar. I had something in my hand, it looked like art work. When exactly had they thawed me? I wasn't sure. I kinda felt like I'd just smoked the biggest joint in my life.\n\nI started walking into the school. Something told me i was supposed to talk to someone here. Wasn't sure who, didn't really care -- I was sorta in a good mood, nicer than I'd ever been in my life. Hell, I maybe I should commit more Crono Crimes when this is done and over with. \n\nI stared at the art in my hand, it was really good -- real pretty and fun to stare at -- I had the impression that I'd drawn it, though I don't remember doing it. I had the sudden urge to show this to someone, anyone at all. \nI was standing in front of a vaguely familar looking person. I handed it to him and slurred something in German. \n\nHe looked at me and in perfect english said [\"Fuck off kid, you'll never amount to anything\"](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/46qkd4/wpkilling_hitler_has_become_a_sport_amongst_time/d077rhk?context=3)\n ", "\"Okay is there any way we can negotiate slightly on some of the terms\"\n\nThe faces at the table all looked at him with blank, confused stares. Himmler and Goebbels exchanged concerned looks.\n\n\"Mein Fuhrer, this was the plan that you devised. We have already begun to implement it\"\n\nShit. Hitler's mind raced desperately trying to think of a way out of the situation. His actions alone could save or condemn millions. If only he hadn't tried to be the hero in the first place none of this would be happening.\n\n\"Look its just that, maybe I have been slightly over zealous. I think we should put the brakes on the plan for now. I mean thinking about it camps might not be the best idea\"\n\nThe room was silent.\n\n\"Now bare with me, why don't we and this is just voicing an idea, leave the jews alone\"\n\n\"Mein Fuhrer are you completely serious?\"\n\n\"Yes, I've made my mind up\"\n\nIt was flimsy, it was poorly worded but under the circumstances he could think of nothing else to say. He had gone from been Jack Silas, time travelling vigilante to one of the biggest war criminals of all time in a matter of days. That didn't leave much time for careful planning.\n\nThe assembled Nazi's looked at one another before Himmler spoke up.\n\n\"Thank god for that\"", "\"Okay, first day on the job...\" I muttered as I sat on the uncomfortable leather, \"I'm Hitler.\"\n\nI repeated that last part to myself several dozen times until the door knocked and a man I recognized walked into the room.\n\nHeinrich Himmler was yelling at me in German as I opened my mouth in response.\n\nIt was at that point I realized I didn't know how to speak the language and I repeated the only German phrase I knew.\n\n\"Drei stucke eim alten Stylen.\"\n\nThree songs in an old style.\n\nIt was an orchestra piece I played in high school.\n\n__________________________________________________\nargh. God bless.", "In the year 3089, killing Hitler had been a sport. Points were scored for creativity and difficulty. For the rich, it was a fun way to pass time – we had the necessary machines and resources at our disposal. As a scientist, it was easy for me. Simultaneously, however, it was a way to prove myself.\n\nYou see, I was at the brunt of society's cruel joke. I was mocked openly, and hateful rumors spawned across the internet. My reputation was tarnished, and I slowly became a recluse. But my naive self thought the competition would give me the fame and respect I desired.\n\nI entered myself into the competition, read all the regulations, and was ready to begin. \n\nA week later, I got an email from the competition officials notifying all competitors that we had 2 short months. For me, it wasn't close to being enough time.\n\nThere was one law to time travelling: on any circumstances, do not* remove anyone from the past or future. Scientists warned that it may result in the fall of modern society as we know it, and may possibly annihilate humankind.\n\nNaturally, my brilliant idea of giving myself an upper hand was to bring my past selves to help me. \n\nOf course, I had some explaining to do and had to sooth any fears my past selves had, but that was simply a minor bump. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts to keep them hidden, my doppelgängers were seen by my competitors and the competition officials. I was disqualified from the competition and given a date to go on trial.\n\nAfter weeks of hard work and sleepless nights, I wasn't going to be eliminated without a fight. In an act of defiance, I took myself and all my past selves back to Hitler's time to carry out my assassination. \n\nDuring my stay, I changed my name, my history and the appearance of all my clones. Time passed quickly, and the night before the competition soon arrived. As an avid follower of the Hitler Games since it began, I expected the officials to arrive sometime around 5am to discreetly blend in. \n\nUnbeknown to me, somehow the cops from my time were alerted of my crime, and my cover was blown. On the day of my scheduled attack, my clones and I were ambushed by a group of time travelling cops. As might be expected, I was outnumbered and quickly overpowered due to my lack of combat experience. \n\nI was taken back to my time and put into a cell. My trial was to be within two weeks.\n\nI had a target on my back the moment I stepped into jail. I was mocked and beaten up within the first hour. How could I be so cruel? How could I be so willing to sacrifice mankind for the sake of a mere competition? How could I spend billions of dollars on time machine use when there were trillions starving and malnourished?\n\nI believed these to be excuses – the inmates simply wanted easy entertainment and a punching bag to take out their frustration. Being lanky didn't help much either. The guards did nothing to help – they either turned a blind eye or grinned maliciously at my demise. \n\nThe two weeks I was there toughened me up faster than I ever have. I learned to fight dirty by clawing my attackers' eyes and nose, or kneeing them in the groin. Yet despite this, I still received daily abuse from the inmates, to the point where I couldn't fall asleep at night from the pain.\n\nOne fateful night, a guard was careless and fell asleep near the bars of my cell. I managed to unclip his keys from his belt and let myself out. I limped home and took a shower, put on a clean change of clothes and activated my time machine. I travelled back a few years before Hitler's rise to power. It might seem stupid at first (after all, it was very close to the year of the competitions) but I figured they would've never thought to look for a fugitive hiding in plain sight.\n\nI was right. I was never found out and over the course of years, the pain from being mocked and the brunt of every cruel joke festered within me. I decided I wanted revenge. I soon grew to be one of Hitler's closest friends, and his ideologies influenced my thinking. It was at a point where he wasn't infamous, yet his name was somewhat well known. \n\nI killed him at the ripe age of 40. \n\nI took on his identity, and continued his legacy. As I was well aware of the Hitler Games, I was able to fend off each and every attack, while simultaneously gathering support. Instead of targeting the Jewish, I targeted the people of the future. I made up horrific stories of their deeds, and fabricated perpetrators to be burnt at the stake as punishment.\n\nFor justice, I claimed. For the safety of our future generations.\n\nDue to my knowledge in time machines, I was able to build a variation of it within 10 years. It was modified to allow my entire army to travel forward in time. \n\nI plan to return to the year 3089 – the year I tried desperately to gain the respect of my fellow peers. It will be bloody and merciless. No one will escape the extent of my wrath. \n\nLet the slaughter begin.\n\n\nEDIT: Thanks all for the positive comments! Glad you all enjoyed it :)" ]	7
	[WP] You were gifted with a secret power: you cause the opposite sex to orgasm from even the slightest skin-to-skin contact. Tell us about your life.	[ "The maternity wards of most hospitals are noisy, busy spaces; the muffled cries of women in labor are always audible even through thick delivery room doors. On the day of my birth, screams filled the halls, to be sure. Passing doctors coughed nervously and strode a bit quicker past the doors of 105, blushing all the while. Dr. Young, the physician who delivered me, instructed his nurses to play soothing music and wipe his brow with a cold compress every few minutes as he stared at the writhing form of my mother in labor. Mine was a slow birth, and it wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Dr. Young pulled me free. Of course, as soon as he held me in his arms, he relieved the pressure he'd been building for the last dozen hours. Viagra ads tell you to contact your doctor if an erection lasts more than 4 hours, so medically speaking I'd done him a favor.\n\nMy father only reluctantly told me this story once I was a teen, with the reddest face I'd ever seen. By his account, he spent most of the evening huddled in an arm chair, trying to hide a furious blush and a raging stiffy. The entire staff was in on the unusual events transpiring in that delivery room, and I was examined by a dozen medical professionals before my parents were allowed to bring me home. The doctors never did reach a consensus on what had caused my unnatural birth, but my parents refused to offer me up for further study.\n\nI didn't really have much of a childhood, seeing that I was forbidden from the slightest contact with anyone outside of my immediate family. I suppose my parents were worried about the social repercussions of their young child making a preschool teacher lose it in the middle of class. Thus, my mother quit her career in marketing and took over my schooling full time. I'd like to think that I received a rounded education under her care, but time spent on the internet really helped fill in the gaps. It also taught me about the birds and the bees, and the full implications of my father's story came into horrifying new light.\n\nI can't say why I did it, but some teenage rebelliousness urged me to test my latent ability. I hadn't touched another person in 13 years -- my parents did their best to show affection, but stopped short of giving hugs to avoid any accidental contact -- and I felt a need that couldn't be denied. One evening, as my mother and father discussed the day at the dining room table, I excused myself and slipped up to my room. Throwing on the shoes I'd snuck in earlier that afternoon, I slid out the window and dashed across the yard. I'd seen the outside world from the yard and on the internet, but actually being free was a spiritual awakening.\n\nI hopped over our fence, and unsure of what I really planned to do, I knocked on the door of the house next to ours. A pleasant, plump woman in a tracksuit opened the door, and seemed surprised to see me.\n\n\"Can I help you?\" she asked with a puzzled stare. Then, recognition glinted in her eyes. \"Oh! You're Mary and John's kid! I've seen you playing in the back yard. What are you doing out so late?\"\n\nI steeled my nerve, and tried to nonchalantly communicate that I was out for an evening stroll and wanted to check in on my neighbor.\n\n\"Can I hug you, Ma'am?!\" I blurted.\n\nKicking myself mentally, I prepared to be thrown off her porch immediately. Much to my surprise, she laughed and patted my head affectionately.\n\n\"Of course, honey. Then we'll get you back home, alright? It's too late for you to be out by yourself.\"\n\nReaching out, I embraced her, and she held me warmly. Being smothered by her purple-clad belly, I almost felt loved. Then her hand brushed my ear and she stumbled backward with a moan. Collapsing on the carpet and staring at me wildly, she shook her head to clear her thoughts.\n\n\"What was that?\" she asked in a daze, as a bead of sweat ran down her face. A flush took her and she climbed awkwardly to her feet.\n\n\"You should leave now. Just... show yourself out, and shut the door behind you. I have... things... to take care of in my room.\"\n\nShe turned on her heel and practically ran down a hallway leading toward the back of the house. I stood there, in a daze of my own, as the cold night air blew in past me. Everything I'd been told was true, and it seemed that my ability had only grown stronger. Looking around, I spotted a pink doily sitting on a table by the door. On a whim, I snatched it and stuffed it into my pocket. A souvenir, to commemorate this momentous occasion. Turning, I left her home and shut the door behind me.\n\nIn the years since, I've collected a fairly sizable stack of mementos from my conquests. That first doily sits alongside a wooden pipe, a single diamond earring, a revolver and a dozen other prizes seized from the homes of my marks. Once I grew older and my mother felt comfortable leaving me on my own, she returned to her career and in turn gave me all the freedom I needed to research, case and make my move on distinguished figures around the city. Things have only gotten easier as I've grown into my body with age. Few will turn away an attractive stranger on their doorstep, I've found.\n\nI see myself as a philanthropist, really. I find the people who really make this society what it is, and... give a little back. Sure, I make a tidy income selling the things I procure from the mansions of the rich and influential -- in addition to the trinkets for my collection -- but am I not being paid my fair due? Judging from the looks of lust in my \"clients'\" eyes once I'm finished with them, I'd say I am.\n\n[Author's note: I missed the bit about \"opposite sex\" until the story was well underway, but I like it as it stands.]", "My life has been...lonely. \n\nI'm only privy to the bits and pieces of my life that my Father told me before he passed away. The rest is filled in by conversations I have over heard from my Mother and her friends. I know that I have two siblings, both younger than myself. I have never met them. My Father said it was so my Mother could experience the joy he could never give her. I still don't quite understand that part.\n\nMother is very kind to me. She lets me have the entire lower level of the house to myself. I'm not allowed to go outside because of my disease. It's very dangerous for me to go outside, she has assured me of this many times. So I spend my time here with video games and books. Mother said she got a lot of money when Father passed so she doesn't have to work, she can stay home and take care of me. \n\nI was only nine years old when they started to argue. Sometimes they would argue all night. Then one day it stopped, I didn't hear any more arguing. I was happy at first, relieved. Then mother came downstairs and told me about what had happened. She assured me my dad had passed quickly. That was almost five years ago. Looking back on it I wonder if they weren't that happy together in the first place, Mother didn't seem very sad when she told me Father had died. \n\nI just wish I had some friends that were like me I could spend time with. Sure I'm lonely, but I'm never really alone. Mother is part of all sorts of clubs so she always has friends over. There is Book Club on Mondays, Wine Club on Thursdays, and Church Club on Sunday mornings and evenings. We have the events downstairs in my space so that Mother says I can have some company. I just wish some younger people would join, people more like me. The clubs are fun for my Mother but some of the women scare me. They look at me funny, hungrily almost, like I'm a really good piece of cake. Otherwise I don't mind too much. \n\nMost of the women are very friendly. They always make sure to hug me when they show up and again when they leave. One lady even shook my hand two or three times during the meeting! I wonder if they don't have children of their own since they always seem so happy to see me. I just wish I could go outside and play like the children I see on TV. But I know it's for the best to stay inside. Mother says so. \n\nMother protects me." ]	2
	[WP]Your father leads you to a room behind his bookshelf. "My son, it is time that you learned our family's secret."	[ "Dad push pushed a hidden button on the bookshelf and shoved it forward. He squeezed himself between the shelf and wall and into the secret room. He yanked a chain and the lone light bulb flashed to life. Dad motioned me into the room and pushed the bookcase back into place.\n\nThe secret room I never knew existed was small, maybe 4 feet by 10, illuminated only by the single bulb. There were a few unmarked cardboard boxes in the corner, two black folding chairs against the wall, a small table with a projector and a screen. I said a silent prayer that my Dad wasn't planning to show me his eight millimeter porn collection for my eighteenth birthday.\n\nDad started fiddling with the projector as he asked, \"What do you know about President Kennedy's assassination?\"\n\n\"Well, he was shot in Dallas and lots of people don't believe the official story about Oswald\" I replied\n\"Have you ever heard anything about the babushka lady?\"\n\"No\"\n\"Your Grandma was the babushka lady. She filmed the assassination from the best angle and captured the real shooters. There was a national manhunt to find her and her camera. You can read all about it on the internet.\"\n\nThe projector cranked and flickered into action. I watched the film and it showed a close up view of the fatal shot along with the shooters on the grassy hill across the street. Dad pointed at the shooters as their rifles fired on Kennedy's car. The film ended with the screen bright white and the end of the film slapping the case of the projector.\n\n\"Your grandma came home that day shaken, like the rest of the country. She wanted to take the camera to the police or FBI, but Grandpa forbade it. He didn't want to be involved in the story, he didn't want the family name associated with the assassination. He told her not to tell anyone, ever, that she had filmed that day. He hid the film and didn't have it processed by a friend until the Warren Commission filed their report.\" Dad paused and looked me in the eyes to stress the importance of his next words, \"What you just saw and what the Warren Commission concluded are obviously different. It took very powerful people to kill the President and pin it on an innocent man. Those people would not have wanted that film to be seen by anyone, and probably would have killed whoever did see it. Your Grandpa was a wise man. I showed you this because you need to know what your government is capable of. Keep this film secret, it's our family's ultimate insurance policy.\"\n\nMy family secret is proof of one of the biggest conspiracies in history.", "Isd been waiting for the moment my whole life. When I was about 10 my dad told me that no matter what people said; I was special. Growing up I've been noticably different than everyone around me. It seemed that people were a different species than stories I'd heard about life in the 70s, when neighbors knew each other's names, and the new family on the block got a pie and welcome from others. But my dad told me everything would make sense when I turned 21. Finally the day had arrived. The night before I didn't get a lot of sleep as every second of my life had been waiting for the moment. I woke up in the morning and my dad already made breakfast and left it on the table along with a note that said, \"make sure you eat. Today is going to be a hard one to grasp.\" I finished up and called for my him. He sounded off in his room. As I walked in he was standing on the other side of the room next to his antique book shelf. \"What so this is it? Your old ass bookcase?\" I asked. \"Come look at this book.\" He replied. As I walked up he pointed to the book called \"The Power\". \"What about it?\" I asked. \"Pull it out.\" I pulled the book, and as I did everything around me was transforming in to little blue numbers like the matrix. \"As you know, I'm your father. But not in the way as you think.\" He started. \"What do you mean?\" I asked not sure what he was talking about. \"You see, you safe my child, but not physically. I'm a computer scientist and I created you.\" \"Of course you created me, you're my dad!\" \n\"Let me explain this a little more; you are an AI. I have just put your programming into a human body. When my biological son was 10 he died in his sleep. The doctors had no idea what happened as nothing was detectable and the tests were negative. i decided to freeze your body and work on a code to recreate my son and put him back in his own body. You are a miracle!\" So I'm a robozombie. ", "\"For years, our family has harboured a secret,\" began my father as he opened the door to the secret room.\n\n\"We're superheroes. I know, dad,\" I interrupted. \"Your secret identity was revealed two years ago, and the memory wipe affected everyone not inside this house. I know because you explained to the rest of the family to stay inside.\"\n\n\"Oh. Uh, so... yeah, we're superheroes. Except for your Uncle Frank. He got unlucky and lost his powers. We're working on that,\" mumbled my dad.\n\n\"What about mom's family, I asked, looking around the tiny room, \"Also, why is this room so small? You'd think that you could afford a bigger secret base...\" My words were cut off as the room began to move, shooting us downwards at an impossible speed before stopping with a loud bell noise.\n\n\"Your mom's family is kind of hard to explain,\" replied my dad as he tried not to look me in the eyes. He had had a divorce with mom a year back, after a really bad argument. I missed her and my little brother, but I loved my dad. \n\nI glanced around the real secret base. It was exactly how I imagined an actual secret base would look like, with glass cases filled with costumes, miscellaneous trophies, and a giant coin being held from the ceiling.\n\n\"So... We're a family of superheroes...\" I said out loud, the words finally clicking in, \"So, do we have cool superpowers? Do we get our powers from a super-serum? Radiation therapy? Nanomachines?\"\n\nMy dad chuckled, and pointed at a small glowing stone. It glowed with a soft unearthly light.\n\nTogether, we walked over to the stone. He grabbed my hand, and poked it with a needle, letting a drop of my blood fall onto the stone.\n\nWhen my blood hit the stone, I felt myself changing, something inside me was different. Then everything went black.\n\nI woke up in my bed, thinking it was all a dream, but as soon as I got down the stairs, my father led me to a room behind his bookshelf.\n\n\"My son, it is time that you learned our family's secret.\"", "\"Dad, I'm your daughter,\" I corrected.\n\n\"Fine, fine,\" he said, huffing as he pulled at a large tome in the middle of the bookshelf. \n\nIt didn't move.\n\n\"Can I help you dad?\" I asked.\n\n\"This used to be the handle,\" he replied, both hands now gripping the edges of the leather spine. \"There's a whole world back here.\"\n\n\"Dad,\" I said gently, \"The wall behind the bookshelf is part of the living room, on the other side. There's nothing there.\"\n\n\"No!\" he protested. \"There's a whole world back there. I've been there. It's - full of magic!\"\n\nHis fingers scrabbled for purchase on the book.\n\n\"Dad, I think it's time for you to go to bed.\"\n\nHis efforts slowed, and eventually he released the book with a sigh.\n\n\"There was a whole world there, Elise,\" he said. \"It was beautiful.\"\n\nI guided him to the kitchen to take his pills, then to brush his teeth, then tucked him into bed. The same routine we'd had for several years now. I love him and it makes me cry to do it sometimes.\n\nIt wasn't until the wee hours in the morning when I suddenly awoke with a thought.\n\nWhy hadn't that book moved from the shelf? \n\n" ]	4
Just a possible idea to jump off from, or motif to add * most people's necklaces shine in their early to mid teens, college is rather late	[WP] At birth everybody receives a necklace that will glow when they get near their soulmate/perfect partner. You're a college student studying abroad when suddenly yours starts to shine for the first time.	[ "I have watched over the years as one by one my friends necklaces began to glow. We would then make a game out of if. Racing about town, or wherever we were watching the necklace glow brighter the closer we got to their true love. I used to happily watch, joining in the excitement, watching love blossom when we found who made the necklace glow. I watched one by one find love over the years as my necklace never even twinkled. Graduation day came around and I was the only one left with a necklace around my neck. I felt the weight of it as I walked across the stage to grab my diploma, felt everyone's eyes on it, heard the whispers. Everywhere I went it seemed I couldn't escape the stares. I would watch the lips of old women mouth the words \"poor thing\". I had to get away from it all. I went to the first college that would accept me that was as far away from my small town as possible, and here I am. Sitting on a bridge in Germany. I tucked away the lifeless necklace into my shirt, and looked down past my shoes at the water below. I looked it up you know, the longest someone has lived before their necklace glowed. The longest someone had went without finding their soul mate was a guy by the name of Mike Muller. He was 19 before his necklace glowed. Sitting here now I'm 23 and only one possible reason my necklace has never glowed, and that has to be because my soul mate doesn't exist. I don't know if I just never had one or if maybe she died. All I know is I cant live my life alone anymore. I looked down at the water. Watched it swirl over the rocks, and under the bridge. I watched the water for some time, getting up the courage to jump. Standing up on the ledge I felt the wind sweep in from behind me bringing a muffled sound with it. Turning to see what the noise was I saw a woman leaning on the railing of the bridge weeping. She was clutching a necklace in her right hand. a necklace just like mine. Slowly stepping down, I walked over to this woman never taking my eyes off her necklace. I stood behind her not knowing what to say for the longest time. \n\n\"hello\" I mustered causing her to jump. She whipped around quickly whipping her tears away. \n\n\"I was just leaving\" she said as she tried to squeeze past me.\n\n\"wait, your necklace it doesn't glow\" her eyes started to water again as she looked away off to the river. I held pulled my necklace from my shirt holding the pendent between my fingers. \"neither does mine\" I say holding it up for her to see. She looked at my necklace with a puzzled look on her face before looking up into my eyes. \"my names jack\" I say meeting her eyes \"and you are\"\n\n\"my names molly\"\n\n\"hi Molly\" I say with a smile.", "“Is it off?” Amal asked, stopping in front of the door. I nodded. “Good,” she said, “trust me, this is gonna be great.”\n\nShe opened the door and we both stepped into the large classroom and, as soon as the sounds of talking, laughing, and flirting hit me, I felt my heart pump faster. Being stupidly nervous, the first thing I did was screech in the default girliest way my voice could, “Heyyy!” to Hannah and Janelle, who were both seated in the very back right of the room and the only girls I recognized in the group of twenty or so people. The entire room went silent for the briefest, most terrifying moment before returning to its normal volume of socializing. \n\n“Hey girls!” Janelle said, trying to match my enthusiasm. She patted the desk behind her, inviting us to sit and we scurried over to them. \n\n“So you’re finally here,” Hannah said expectantly. “Okay, so what did Amal tell you about this speed-dating event?”\n\n“Well,” I said, trying to bottle the giddiness masking my nervousness. “Well.”\n\nThe three of them stared at me for a second and it seemed they were each holding her breath.\n\n“It’s so fascinating!” I blurted out. “And scary, you know? Like why would you try to date someone you’re not Aligned with?”\n\n“But that’s the great part,” Amal said, “No Pendants, no Detection, and god, no Alignment. It’s freeing and non-committal and casual, and there’s none of the ‘but I’m not ready yet’ stress because you don’t have to do anything.”\n\n“I don’t even bring my Pendant with me,” Janelle boasted. “I leave it my room. You gotta get in the zone, you know what I mean?”\n\n“Wow,” I said with admiration. I absentmindedly felt the lump of polished stone and electronics underneath my sweater, remembering the scolding Mom gave me when I told her with tears in my eyes that I’d lost my Pendant (it was in my gym bag). “Aren’t you afraid you’ll lose it?”\n\nJanelle laughed before admitting she had it locked in a personal safe under her dorm bed. \n\n“But,” she reiterated, “the point is--”\n\n“Girl, you’re such a fraud,” Amal poked,\n\n“The point is,” Janelle said, stifling her laughter, “I’m symbolically taking control of my love life. I’m not gonna let my fate be decided by some rock given by the government.”\n\n“What a revolutionary,” Hannah quipped.\n\n“But,” Janelle emphasized again, “just in case, you know, things don’t work out--” her voice lowered in volume, “Under my bed I got a little back-up plan, ya dig?”\n\n“A real Susan B. Anthony,” Hannah said.\n\n“Bitch, I’m Cleopatra,” Janelle shot back.\n\n“I think you mean Lady Macbeth,” Hannah replied cooly.\n\n“Lady Macbeth didn’t even exist,” Janelle corrected.\n\n“Girls shut up,” Amal piped. “We need to tell Clara what to expect.”\n\n“Oh man,” I heard myself say.\n\n“Don’t,” Janelle said, putting her hand on mine, “be nervous. Just be yourself, but don’t be telling each guy your deepest, darkest secrets and your most personal dreams and all that stuff you’d normally tell someone you’re Aligned with. Remember, this is a place with zero expectation and minimal commitment.”\n\n“Okay,” I breathed. “Okay.”\n\n“You’ll be fine,” Amal said. “Basically, in a few minutes the club president’s gonna tell everyone to quiet down, welcome some newcomers (that’s you), and go through the speed-dating process--”\n\n“We rearrange the desks in two vertical lines,” Janelle interrupted, “boys one side, girls on another, then Alex--”\n\n“The president,” Hannah inserted.\n\n“Then Alex,” Janelle reiterated, “is going to ring a bell to signal your first five minutes with your first guy. After five minutes she’ll ring it again and the next guy will move over and you’ll go another five minutes, and so on and so on.”\n\n“It’ll be fun,” Amal said.\n\n“It’ll be fun!” Janelle repeated.\n\n“There’s literally no reason to be nervous,” Hannah.\n\n“Guys, I’m nervous,” I said with a puny smile which evaporated as soon as a short brunette stood up and shouted, “HEY EVERYONE, CAN WE START TO MOVE THE CHAIRS PLEASE? WE’LL BE STARTING SOON.”\n\nAnd with that the room erupted in the noise of scuffling clothes and screeching chairs. My heart started to beat again and I must have had such a frown on my face because Amal put her hand on my shoulder said, “Clara, really, it’ll be okay.” \n\n“Thanks,” I said, feeling a little better.\n\nThen all of a sudden Amal’s face turned serious and she pulled in closer to me so that none of the others could hear.\n\n“Don’t turn it on.”\n\n\n.\n.\n.\n\n\nNOTE: This is all I got for now, sorry!", "I didn't think it would ever happen.\n\nThe jewel on my necklace, which for my whole life had remained dormant, suddenly illuminated.\n\nI had gone out for a stroll down some back road in Paris when it happened. When I saw it light up, I clutched it with eager hands and started pacing around. I walked Northward, and it dimmed down. Backtracking, I headed Southeast, and it slowly grew with intensity.\n\nFinally, I thought. I finally found her! The necklace's light indicated that I had neared my soulmate. Perhaps, right now, she was experiencing the same excitement I was; soon, we would meet, our fears of dying alone finally being squashed.\n\nAs the light in my necklace reached its zenith, I heard footsteps approach from an alleyway. My lover? I thought, eager to meet my new companion.\n\nA girl in a stained hoodie rounded the corner. She held a knife in one hand. Her eyes lit up when she saw my necklace. \"Give it to me,\" she said, hungrily.\n\nI backed up. \"What? I--I don't understand.\" I held the necklace cautiously. \"Don't you know what this means? We're soulmates. . . \"\n\nShe started to laugh. With her right hand she held up a small remote control. \"This magical device triggers illuminations,\" she started. She stepped forward and aimed the knife at my face. \"No more playing games. Give me the necklace.\"\n\nI backed away. \"You. . . you can't do this to me!\" I turned around and started to run. \n\nSuddenly, I felt something sharp protrude into my back. The knife. That bitch threw the knife! I fell down on the ground in agony.\n\n\"Please,\" I moaned. \"Don't take it. It's the only way I can find my soulmate. . . \"\n\nThe girl cackled as she reached down and grabbed the necklace. \"Love's overrated, kid.\" She threw into a bag and walked back toward the alley.", "My father kept my stones from me till I turned 18. That birthday was the day my first love and I ended our relationship. He handed them to me and told me that it was time to face things as an adult, and I did. I went to her house to visit later that night. Her face lit up when she saw me, but my stones stayed dull. She brought out hers, and they were the same. We ended things that night, but being a dumb kid still in love, I swore they were broken, or wrong, and I put them away. \n\nI've had many loves over the years, and though they sometimes last years, and some only weeks, they were great loves, and I learned so much from every single one of them. My stones stayed in their box for most of that period of my life. \n\nI married a girl about a decade back, and it was joy at first, and after that, a comfortable familiarity for a while. It eventually crumbled away. A love at first sight that ended in two people having a contest to see who could be more horrible to each other. The day I told her goodbye, I took out the necklace, and it helped me make that decision. Cold and gray, they looked darker than I had ever seen them.\n\nI carry them with me now. I'm getting older, a bit more afraid of not ever meeting my partner, worried that I may miss her because I wasn't looking. \n\nLast summer, I was up north visiting friends from my school days for our annual Forth of July party when she showed up. I knew she lived in the area, but we've been friends from a distance for the last two decades, and I didn't expect to see her there. My first love...\n\nAbout half an hour after she showed up, she found me, and over the next two days, we were inseparable. Two old friends, grown up, wiser, and both carrying the weight of the Forty years we'd both experienced. \n\nThe last night of my trip, we ended up staying the night together. Laying in bed, we told each other the small stories that we'd neglected to share over the years, secrets we'd kept to ourselves, and spoke about how the world was changing. As we faded to sleep, I reached up to shut off the lights, and noticed that my suitcase was lit up from the inside. \n\n\"Stupid stones!\" I thought to myself as I fell asleep, but it nagged me enough the next day, that while we were all saying our goodbyes, I pulled her aside from the group and told her what I had seen. She pulled hers from her pocket and they shone so bright that I couldn't look at them directly. \n\nBeing a bit bewildered still, all I could do was ask her what this all meant. \n\nShe took a step closer, kissed me on the cheek, and said \"I guess this means that you'll be back next year, doesn't it?\".\n\n", "Our necklaces were glowing brightly, a beautiful deep amethyst color. There was no denying it; the woman sitting across from me was the one. It was almost eerie how much we had in common too. She was an avid reader, a writer, and incredibly articulate--there were no pauses, no buts or ummmms within her speech. We had been sitting in the booth for three hours already, and it was one of the most enjoyable conversations I had ever had; her wit was sharper than a broadsword and her sense of humor complemented mine perfectly… \n\n\nHer phone buzzed, interrupting my thoughts. \n\n\n\"Ah! One second!\" She quickly checked the message, and frowned. \"Awww. I'm really sorry, but it's my younger brother. He needs me to pick him up from chess club now. Truth be told, I should have left an hour ago. But I'm ecstatic that I finally met you! He'll understand once I tell him that I finally found my soulmate!\" Her smile returned. \"We should go out for dinner on Friday. My treat!\" \n\n\nI smiled back weakly. Was it really that simple for her? \n\n\nShe noticed my silence. \"…Is….something wrong?\" She looked worried. \n\n\n\"Look, I… I don't know. This, this isn't exactly the way I thought things would go, you know? It's nothing personal, really, and I love talking to you, but… I… I was kind of expecting my soul mate to be a man. I just… I think we're better off just being friends, you know? I don't know if I could ever really have a relationship beyond that with a woman. It's not something I've ever really considered or been interested in.\" \n\n\nHer face fell. She was trying hard to keep her composure, but it was clear she wanted to cry. I couldn't blame her. I wanted to cry too. The necklace had finally glowed…\n\n\n\"…But… Will you… Will you at least consider it? Please?\" ", "Ad from 1967: Keep your family safe with Moonstones! These beautifully polished stones glow in radiation, letting you know that Russia has attacked. Don't send your kids to school, or let your husband leave home, without one! Even Scruffy deserves an Moonstone collar. \n\nExcerpt from Wikipedia: Atom Stones (later named Moonstones for civilian sales), first manufactured by General Electric, were designed to illuminate when minute traces of radiation were detected, however, the stones did not work as expected. The scientific community and, in particular, the nuclear industry discontinued using moonstones for radiological detection after the Chernobyl disaster.\n\nBy 1986 Moonstones had gained a popularity unmatched in the consumer world. They weren't expensive, were surprisingly light, and, for a stone, they could be formed into almost any shape. Interestingly enough, the natural kidney bean form it was normally found in was most popular. Their off-white color seemed perfect for jewelry of all types.\n\nA tradition which began in Arizona turned into a global one; upon birth, each infant was fit with a moonstone necklace. It wasn't learned until after this tradition began that the true nature of the stones wasn't radiation detection, it was soul mate detection.\n\nBy 2003 it was common knowledge around the world that the stones were a visual cue that you have met your perfect match. Many older couples were happy that their stones glowed softly when their long-time partner came near. Other couples, whose stones stayed dim, divorced to find their true mate.\n\nYounger generations, particularly those who have worn their moonstone necklaces since birth, had a revolution with matchmaking. By 2016 SMatching (stone matching) became a common term; huge events for singles were held worldwide, each attendee excited for the chance to meet \"the one\" for them. Cell phones had a stone sensor and with an app one could swipe through potential mates, all the while hoping their necklace would emit a soft glow.\n\nBrent Swire's moonstone necklace has never glowed. At 44 years old he's too late for the younger generation's revolution. No apps for him. No massive get-togethers in Madison Square Garden. Not even a blink of light. In his early thirties, when the secret of the stones broke out, Brent was tied up building a career. He'd served in the Army and after discharge he hit the ground running. Dating, vacations, hobbies; those all took a backseat to establishing himself as a graphics artist. The stones held no interest for him.\n\nToday, Brent is an established graphics designer. His primary focus is corporate branding and logo design. He works by himself in a small studio in Austin and has enough of a backlog of work to keep his social calendar mostly blank. Tonight, though, he is going to a small meet-up downtown. The evite was clear that this would be an older crowd and a bit more formal than the younger folk's events.\n\nBrent walked into The Ginger Man and contemplated turning right around. The crowd here was older, aligning with his age, but that isn't what gave him pause. While the inside of the bar was normal, folks were chatting and getting drinks, it was outside the bar, in back, that gave him an uncomfortable feeling. Chairs were set up across from each other. The women stayed seated and men were just sitting down across from them, checking their stones, and leaving if nothing happened. In most cases the couples did not even speak to each other. There was an air of desperation that he did not like.\n\nHe ducked back inside, went to the bar and ordered a beer, thinking this had been a mistake. While taking a pull on his beer he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find an attractive brunette standing there and smiled. \n\n\"Are you going to keep hogging up the bar? I want some drinks.\" She didn't seem nice at all. Brent moved aside, chugged the rest of his beer and decided to leave.\n\nHe walked down Lavaca Street to the river, stopping to lean on a rail. What am I doing? he asked himself. It was 8:45 PM and here he was, yet again, not out meeting anyone. Why try? He let his mind wander while staring down at the Colorado River. The uselessness of the stones, at least for him, weighed heavily on him. Here he was again, counting himself out before the game had started.\n\nTired of beating himself up and ashamed of inability to “woo the ladies,” he went home.\n\nBrent reached back to turn off the garage light when he felt a presence in his house. Shit, someone is in here. He slipped off his shoes and made his way into the kitchen where he quietly pulled a knife from its block. He didn’t have a home phone and he realized too late that his cell phone was in his bedroom.\n\nQuietly, he made his way through the downstairs of his house. Clutter was everywhere and several paintings had been removed from the wall. Stiffening his resolve, he crept up the stairs with the knife held in front of him. He heard some shuffling and small thunks coming from his office. He kept on the move quietly, skirting the wall and peering into the empty guest room before continuing on.\n\nI should just go back downstairs and leave. They didn’t hear me pull in, they won’t hear me leave. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple and he felt a knot of fear blossom in his belly. With his knife held firmly in front of him waist high he barged in…\n\nAnd immediately ran into someone. Someone short and dark. He heard a gasp and then a scream, unsure if it was the burglar or himself who caused it. A short moment later he felt the knife move, something sliding off of it followed by a thump on the floor. Brent reached out with the knife, feeling with it and there was nothing but air.\n\nA low moan escaped from whoever lay on the floor. Brent quickly flipped on the lights and to his surprise there was a woman laid out bleeding heavily, a wound visible below her ribcage. “Holy shit, what are you doing in my house? You’re robbing me? Who else…”\n\nAt that moment he noticed something. The thief, bleeding to death on his floor, was emitting a soft green glow through her shirt. The diffuse luminous band began to gain intensity. He looked down at his own moonstone necklace and was stunned. \n\nHis moonstone was a brilliant blue.\n\n\nEdit: spelling\n\nNote: Didn't notice the second half of the prompt :/", "We boarded the plane, and took off. \nEvery couple years, my wife and I take a trip to Italy. This has been tradition since I studied abroad there my first summer. My expectations were no greater than my grades back then; learn the language, try a few bars, get some memories to look back on in my 9-5 job god knows where. \nA simple plan for an adventurous summer. \nThen I had to go and take the wrong bus. \nThe districts started to become shabbier. Nothing like the pamphlets I saw at the internship fair a few months before. Not that it was poverty-stricken or by any means terrible. The neighborhoods were just more foreign, less globalized, more... traditional, as far as the word makes sense to me. I was just a Kansas boy. \nA Topeka tomcat who's gem shone for the first time. \nI ditched the bus as it moved. Ribs bruised and legs aching from the jump, I followed the intensity of my gem. From glimmer, to glow, to shine. My eyes were no where else. \nA foreign girl? My soul mate? Not what I was expecting. Not from my simple plan. But I imagined what she'd look like. How gorgeous she might be. We would make the most of it. \nThen my gem cracked. It means she, hell, or even he, was here. I tore my eyes from the remnants, and looked around. \nMy heart broke for the first time in my young life in that moment. Our teachers warned us this could happen, but it was a one in a million. I lost the lottery. \nMy soulmate was Aida. Her tombstone read that she passed away a few months prior to my getting here. I'd have brought flowers, but, how was I to know? \nI kneeled at her tombstone and asked her as well; how was I supposed to know? \nI don't know how long I kneeled at that tombstone, with my gem shards glittered over her resting place. But a soft hand fell on my shoulder. I turned to see a girl my age, with this sad look in her eyes say something in Italian. Two, simple words. \nYou too? \nSo every couple years, my wife and I take a trip to Italy. This was tradition. We'd visit the cemetery and give our respects. Our marriage was one of companionship, but we don't tell our child that. Not until he's old enough to understand. \nUnderstand what dad? He'll ask me one day. \nMy wife rested against me as our plane was taking preparations to land. I watched Italy ascend towards me. This view. This country, where I would take him one day when he's older. And I'll tell him, \"Our soulmates may sometimes be a little further than we expect. But never beyond our reach, if you don't mind traveling.\" \n", "When I reached out to scratch my neck, the necklace burned bright red. I couldn't believe what was happening! After all these years alone... after all those years watching others, be it friends or family, find their soul partners, I have found mine!\nI grabbed my coat and rushed towards the door. \n\nHurriedly, I furiously put on my coat while running down the old well lit streets of London. I looked at my pendant once again only to find it colourless. \"No no no, give me something! God damn it!\" \n\n\"Think think think... oh come on... oh! if she's my soulmate, that means that she likes the same things I do!\" The coffee shop near by looked promising; the indoor was lit by a fireplace and candles, and jazz played in the background. I threw open the door, only to find my pendant still. \n\n\"What else do I like... how about the music store? Damn, it's 8 o'clock. I gotta hurry up.\" I dashed towards the other end of town to get to my favourite music store. Yet, there was still no glow. Defeated, I turned around and began my long walk home.\n\n\"Stupid pendant, you're just trying to trick me all along, huh? Even you knew that I had no chance at love too. Figures.\" I stopped to let loose a winded sigh. I looked up at the sky, only to find more lights shining from old London buildings. I came to scratch my chin. I noticed a faint glow of red.\n\n\"Wait, she's here!?\" I started looking desperate in the middle of the vacant sidewalk. \"Oh very funny. You know what? I don't need you. I'll find my own happiness myself.\" As I reached to tear off the very necklace that gave other people hope, and even myself, It shined brighter than ever before. My right hand. \n\n\"YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME\" \n\nfin\n\n_________________________________________________________________" ]	8
	[WP] You have the ability to recreate reality as you see fit. For all intents and purposes you are a god. The catch: your powers are linked to your polar opposite and you can only make a change if you both agree.	[ "\"I won't permit this,\" Sweet declared. \nOf course she wouldn't. That was what made her Sweet. But I had to try. \n\"Please, look how fast they have progressed.\" I gestured towards our alpha site. \"The Creations are taking upon themselves an unprecedented task. Would you allow this self-destruction?\" \nShe shook her head. \"I see no self-destruction in their mission, Sour. I think it's noble actually.\" \nNoble?! I struggled for the relative safety of certainty, but as always, my alterations were delayed by my divine opposite. If she says no, then its a no. \nDamned bureaucracy! \n\"Now see here,\" I fumed. \"We are gods, so surely you must---\" \n\"No we're not.\" \n\"Oh not this again! Listen, I understand the flow of all. That's what gives me foresight, and I see in the success of their mission their doom!\" \nSweet cast a glare at me. \"So you say.\" \nThis woman! \n\"I do! The Creations will then grow to new heights! Unprecedented heights, from which they'll fall. To Chaos, this was not in the blueprints!\" \nShe shrugged. \"They were a simple design. You gave them purpose, not perfection. I liked that, so I allowed it.\" \nAnd it was all she could do. Accept my designs, and converse with me. Such was her purpose. Nothing more. So she adopted another in our eternity together; provoking my fury. \nA rage took me. \"Sweetest, you have this---\" the word eluded me, \"--- habit of passing my adjustments when they're faulty. No, when you suggest they're faulty. I get that. But don't you dare call my Creations imperfect.\" \n\"Sour, I didn't say they were---\" \n\"I made them in my image! Don't you forget that!\" In my passion, I realized my error. \nShe chuckled. \"You're so defensive this aeon. Does the success of their project vex you this much?\" \nI could only nod. I gave her too much again. If any words were attempted, I might suggest Chaos. Our crappy ever-after. Sweet would love nothing more than to allow it, just to see me squirm. \nAfter all this eternity, I was half-tempted to just let it be over with. But Creation was my one true pleasure. My only joy. \nHers was Chaos. Destruction. Sweet nothings. \nI grimaced, and chanced a few words. \"Their success will be our undoing.\" \nSweet smiled. \"Did you not say this was their self-destruction, bitter one?\" \n\"Yes,\" I said simply. \"If this venture succeeds, we may have to start again. Fresh designs. Deny any opportunity for a Creation to... try something so foolish.\" \nShe didn't see as I did. Their ascendance would end us unless they failed today. \nHer voice rang in my despair. \"And yet, this may be the best thing to ever happen to us.\" \nI accepted the bait, fooled by her limitations. \"How?\" \nGlee sprang in my Other's response. \"Because if what you see is true, then I will love nothing more than letting them ascend!\" \nOf course she did. \nI felt foolish for even asking. We altered galaxies, soft drinks and the St. Louis Cardinals, among an infinity more exchanges. Some for our purposes. Others, on a whim. \nSo it was hard to keep track, until the universe presented me with another decision. An accumulation from my past decisions and her past allowances. These moments I considered an alteration, I called the Present. \nNo, I could not undo what invented this Present without a Grand Restart. Reality relied on a consistent time stream. If things got too dull, she would allow a Restart. For now, we could pause until a decision was made, but not rewind. \nIn my depression, there was no obvious workaround to be found. When Sweet wanted something specific to happen, no suggestion could prevent it. \nOr destroy it. \n\"We are simply to watch then?\" I asked my Other. \nShe only beamed in her success. Sweet would not permit my sabotage. \nWell, so be it. This wasn't our first edition. But it could very well be our last. \nApollo 11 was permitted to land on their Moon that day. \n", "My soulmate and I are perfect for each other.\n\nI know, you may have heard that a lot. Half of your friends on Facebook post daily statuses about it, and it's the plot of ninety percent of films. This is different. When we're separate, we're insignificant; when we both put our minds to something, we're literally perfect - not just for each other, but in general, and in the full sense of the word. We're perfect. The difficult bit isn't so much that we need to agree on things to bring out our latent nature. Well, maybe when we were younger that was tricky. There were bumps on the way. Now, though, it's a whole other set of issues. Anyway, what we've learned, in short, is that giving perfection to inherently imperfect little people isn't always that great.\n\n**\n\nI lay in bed, inspecting the ceiling, gasping while my vision trickled back into my eyeballs. \n\n\"You're such a girl,\" she said. We had only met last week.\n\n\"Mmm. Shut up.\"\n\n\"This would be so much better with ice cream.\"\n\n\"This would be so* much better with ice cream,\" I agreed. \n\nA bowl appeared on top of me, burning a circle of blessed cold into my naked chest. There were two spoons, and two scoops: chocolate and strawberry. I looked at her, somehow mortified.\n\nShe took a spoon.\n\nI think we both knew, even then. There were only a couple of explanations, but the possibilities were infinite. \"Shit. Dreaming, hallucinating, some trick, or omnipotence,\" she said.\n\n\"I... I'd like Oreo on my ice cream,\" I said.\n\n\"Oh, ew, no.\" \n\n\"Well, come on, just for the sake of testing the fact that we're fucking omnipotent?\"\n\n\"What about, like, candied mint leaves?\"\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\n\"Say it, then!\" She huffed, scooting upright against the headboard.\n\n\"I'd like some candied mint leaves.\"\n\n\"I'd like some candied mint leaves,\" she agreed. \n\nThere they were, half-sinking into the melted surface of the ice cream. A minute passed in silence.\n\n\"I think this is getting serious a little too quickly,\" I joked.\n\n\"A million dollars, in cash,\" she said, swatting me on the shoulder.\n\n\"A million dollars in cash.\"\n\nA small pile of stacks was between us, each one a wad of hundreds. She leapt to her feet, stark nude and stumbling.\n\n\"I... don't think this is a trick.\"\n\n\"I have an idea,\" I said, moving the bowl to the side table. \"This would be perfect if it were true.\"\n\n\"This would be perfect,\" she said, \"if it were true.\"\n\nAnother minute stole away as we stared at each other.\n\n\"What was meant to happen?\" She perched on the end of the bed, rear wobbling.\n\n\"Good point. I guess either it's true, or one of us is still tripping balls.\"\n\n\"Well then, I want to know everything,\" she said.\n\nI paused. \"Er, listen, I'm not sure about that. We can't really jump to drastic things like that without weighing it over a bit.\"\n\n\"We just made a million bucks,\" she said, taking a stack and balancing it on her nest of brown hair.\n\n\"This is the fabric of reality though. We have no idea what's going to happen!\"\n\n\"Hm,\" she said. \"This is a way heavier evening than I expected. I think I'm still a little drunk, I guess. Wait 'till morning before warping reality?\" She flipped over and buried her face into the pillow. \"Yeah. Morning.\"\n\n\"Hey, have you ever read Voltaire's Candide?\"\n\n\"The best of all possible worlds,\" she said, muffled. \"You're saying we shouldn't change anything? Are you insane?\" ", "\"No, I don't agree.\"\nThe common phrase she always said. The reason why I am stuck in my own hell.\n\"Why don't you agree?\" I said with my head in hand. \"Because, Why would they need the ability to fly? They have land - they can walk.\" She said writing notes in blank pages of her notepad. \nI rub my hand on my cheek, closing my eyes for a second. I remember the time I was before him, the God of everything. And he said to me \n\"You will create your own version of reality. But there is a catch, should you accept it.\" I was stupid enough to say yes. And I was stupid enough to be stuck here. See, the catch is - \"I want them to suffer. Let's raise the temperature of the planet.\" She says in the middle of my thought. \"What!? No!\" I yell at her. \"That will kill them! What good will that do?\" \n\"Everything dies.\" she said with a smirk.\nI bury my head in my hands and let out a sigh. I was stuck with her. And she was stuck with me. My opposite, if I was North, She's south. If I liked drinking, she would hated it. I could burn this world of mine to ashes, and she would raise it to the heavens. \nGod I hate her.\n\"Tell you what.\" She says, closing her book. Looking at me with a smile. \"How about a compromise?\" I look at her with a brow raised, beckoning her to speak. \n\"I want them to suffer. You want them to thrive. We can't agree on most, but there is something we can agree on - Balance.\" I look at her with interest, I lean towards her.\n\"Explain.\" \n\"What if I will become the bad things in life, I can inflict them with disease, poverty, and other ills.. and you can be their good things. Health, prosperity, and other divines.\"\nI look at the world we made. And I look at the way it's shaped, how they exist.. and we made them exist. \n\"Hm... Alright... I agree.\" I said. One part of the power unlocked.\n\"I agree.\" She said. \nWithin moments on her workbench a version of the world came about. But she saw the evil in the beings hearts, and the ways to tempt them.\nWithin moments, my own reflected the good in their hearts and the ways I may persuade them.\nThis went on for a thousand years, a thousand years of pain, and joy. love, and hate. If there was a war, she tempted them to fight. And I pleaded with them to be kind..but..\n..Over time, I felt my power fade. Our beings no longer interested in my ways, instead, her temptations became so great they gave in on a whim.\n \nAnd she began to inflict the world with wickedness.\n \nShe wanted to watch the World we made together burn, because she was stuck with me too. She hated me, and I her. and this World we had, had me in it. And she wanted to see it burn.\n \nSome centuries, I never bothered to look at my world anymore. I sat there for three centuries.. doing nothing. Letting her ruin everything we made.. \n\nBut then one day, I heard a frustrated yell come from her. \"WHY?! Why are they not giving in?!\" She said. Looking at her world. I rolled my eyes, thinking she was trying to cause another global epidemic. \"Look! You oaf!\" She said with venom in her words. I shuffled over to my world without a care. I peered down... and there is a statue. Around this statue, they .. kneel before it. And clasp their hands together. I don't really know what they are doing, actually. \"What are they doing?\" I said to her, sure this was her work. \n\"They're praying.\" She said, her head on the palm of her head. \n\"What is that?\" I said. Still conflicted about this event. \n\"They're praying for you to end this. Their suffering.\" Then a thought came to her head, and she smiled. \n\"Hey, How about we agree to start over?\"\n I turned my head to her. \"Start.. over?\" \n\"We burn this world.. into nothing. Make a new one, and make it thrive, and prosper. Look at them! They suffered for centuries.. You can end it. You can stop it.\" She said, with a large smile. She turned her head slightly. \n\"I agree.\" she started, one half of the power unlocked.\nI hesitated. \n\"...Well? Do you agree?\" She said with her smile being casted off her wicked face.\n\"They're suffering! End it!\" She yelled at me, demanding a response.\n\"I.. \" saying as I look upon them, I can see their faces. They worry. They feel. \n\nThey want to live.\n\n\"No. I do not agree. I will do onto this world the goodness you have torn away from it.\"\nShe yelled, kicked, and screamed. But she couldn't do a thing. I was a balance to her Chaos.\nI cleansed the world of pain, I gave my creations something more than just war. I gave them love, peace, and prosperity. For the three centuries they endured, I gave them six centuries to love. \n\nAnd it was the best agreement I made.\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] Defeating the Grim Reaper allows an individual to remain untouched by Death for all time but soon realises this will not prevent them from ageing into infirmity and beyond. Their only hope of avoiding this rests with challenging Father Time as well and the stakes couldn't be higher than ever.	[ "Stanley was ready to start upon his journey. In his youth, he was told a tale of how defeating the grim reaper would trump death itself. Now middle aged and out of his prime, Stanley thought long and hard to himself about the journey he was about to take. Was it with it? Stanley said nah and decided to try and dissuade other adventurers by going on reddit and telling them immortality is bunk.\n\nThe end. ", "When I met Death, he told me it was my time. I told him it couldn't be, he must be mistaken, that there were two of me. He was a gullible fool. He glanced down at his chart \n\n\"My mistake, I didn't have it written down that there were two of you.\"\n\nI couldn't believe death could be so dumb. I was eighteen, young. Had the world ahead of me. But around the age of 35 I began to bald. And my skin got it's first wrinkle. I was still aging. From that day forth I searched for the solution.\n\nI wandered for years searching for Father Time. I was 150 years old, brittle bones, skin sagging off my body, every step significantly more painful than the last. I checked every clock shop in the world, to no avail, wallowing in agony. \n\nI stumbled up to my last hope. A small town clock maker in the hills of New Zealand. My legs were barely working. My teeth were gone, gums rotten, this was it. It was either here or nowhere. I went up to the door and knocked. \n\nA young man answered. \n\"I've been expecting you,\" he said with a smile.\n\"Come in and have some tea.\n\nMy cane bashed against the wooden floor. I slowly stepped inside and took a seat. \n\n\"Well you finally made it, you know Death told me about you, he said you were a smart one. I've been Father Time since before you were born, I said to him. I was around when there was nothing to do but count sand on the shore.\" His smile slowly faded as he poured my tea.\n\n\"So, here is the deal. You are the first immortal I have dealt with. I quite pity you, it's a hideous thing to look at. It is why Death exists, you know. You probably should've come to me first.\"\n\nHe smiles. I am aching all over. I cannot speak, the tea has not helped my dried up, sandpaper throat.\n\n\"So, here are the rules, you must count to a hundred and fifty, for each second you will age a hundred years, make it to the end and I will leave you alone for eternity.\"\n\n\"What about my lost time? I want to be young again.\" I muttered nearly unrecognizable.\n\n\"I can do that for you\" he says with a wicked smile. \n\nI think for a moment. No way I will survive. No way. But I try.\n\n\"148,149, 150\" I say as fast as possible. I feel a crushing burden on my chest. Dust and blood and skin fall from my flesh. I am 450 years old. And I know I have won. \n\n\"Very well, very well. I will rewind time and henceforth leave you alone. Back to when you were young again.\"\n\nI feel myself floating in time. I'm back on a busy street in New York City. It feels good to be home. I breathe in, something about today is familiar. I look up to see a bus barreling my way. This was the day that I died.", "The cutlass found its place between two small stones. The blade sank a few inches into the soft ground before coming to a rest. A withered hand pushed down on the hilt. The weight of the woman's thin body pushed the blade even further into the ground. Her scraggy knees strained to keep the rest of her body weight supported.\n\nHer eyes yellowed with time rested on a dozing man. He sat on a high backed wooden chair in the middle of a field of princess of the night flowers. He was dressed in a long white robe, small grey and black designs appeared in the fabric and would faze out within a few moments only to be replaced with new ones. His head lay with few hairs on it, most of them seemed to have left to take up residence on his face instead. This beard long and grey rested upon his lap, rising with each breath he took.\n\nThe woman's dry lips struggled for a moment to form noise but eventually a weak, low voice broke through the silence of the sun drenched field;\n\n\"I..I've come for your powers Father Time\"\n\nThe man's mouth shifted and began making an almost comical whistling noise as his eyes remained shut. The woman's pallid cheeks gained little colour as the lines of her face connected to display her anger.\n\n\"I'll not give you further warning\"\n\nHer arm had already numbed from holding her weight. She lifted the sword and took a short step before awkwardly forcing the sword back into the earth. Wheezing she looked down at her hand lying on the hilt. The veins looked as if they would pop through her skin at any moment.\n\n She knew the cruel truth however that such a thing was impossible. Her body could age but anything life threatening was an impossibility, her many attempts at suicide were reminders, blurry ones. Unfortunately the passing of time had aged her memory too. The elderly woman didn't even remember her duel with the Grim Reaper for eternal life all those years ago. She had sliced him open with the same enchanted cutlass that her body now used to support her own weight.\n\nThe woman continued on. Her limbs trembling and aching she eventually reached the old man who dozed blissfully unaware. She knew he could not give her back her youth. She just wished for his ability to stop ageing. To not lose anymore memories. To keep just a little control over her decrepit body is all she asked.\n\nShe raised the cutlass as high as her weak arms allowed. The man raised a single eyelid. His grey eye locked with her own.\n\n\"T-too late!\" she screamed with as much energy as her lungs allowed. The tip of the blade found its mark. She pushed it in with all the force she could muster. It slide past his ribs and connected with his heart. She remained in this position for what felt like an eternity to her. Eventually the mans lips moved but no sound came out. Her eyes left the gaze of his and she almost thought he had worded out 'Thank you' with his purple lips.\n\nHer cutlass fell to the ground landing at one of the legs of the chair. The man's body slowly turned to sand in front of her eyes. A strong gust of wind spread the sand across the field of flowers. The flowers wilted for a moment before blooming anew. Without quite knowing why the woman sat upon the chair.\n\nMany seasons came and went.\n\nA middle aged man found himself at the destination of his travels. His body riddled with scars he walked to the center of a field of princess of the night flowers. He saw a woman seated in front of him. She wore a white robe with patterns fading in and out of its fabric. A cutlass lay at her feet.\n", "Journal for the Journey; \n\nDay 1. When we learned of the immortality that would be bestowed upon us, after defeating the Grim Reaper, we were overcome with curiosity and obsession, we knew we'd soon venture to Death's door.\n\nThe old gypsy woman who told us of this reward knew of his whereabouts, \"A small village in the Republic of Congo\" and drew a circle with her finger on our map. \"Where else?\" Bubba sneered. I still don't know why we keep him around.\n\nDay 3. Bags are packed, supplies are loaded up on Bubba's boat. I guess that's why we keep him around... The man is a useful headache.\n\nMy heart is pounding with anticipation and excitement. The chance of a lifetime, a chance to redefine \"A Lifetime\". We have very little idea of what we're getting ourselves into, but we know what we're getting out of it... If we succeed.\n\nDay 24. Through a mixture of distractions and terrible memory, I completely forgot about this damn journal. We're on the boat as I write. We've been entertaining ourselves very well, but Bubba's brother, our Captain that tells us to call him \"Spack Jarrow\" seems nervous, I think we might be lose.\n\nDay 27. Fuck me. We're lost.\n\nDay 80-something, maybe? I don't even know. We're in Africa, we found the village. We're resting for a couple days. The journey has been long, and Cpt. Jarrow was murdered in the night when he got us lost, again, this time in the forest. Nobody knows who did it, but he was a big man, and we were starving... I had to get rid of my grandfather's knife, due to the blood stains... Thank god I never showed it to anyone before hand. I accidentally found it in my bag trying to look for something I missed to eat. As my fingers grazed the steal, stomach rumbling, I knew what could save us.\n\nLuckily, the village has taken us in. They've fed us plenty of vegetables, and meet that tasted a lot like Spack... Better, though, I think it was their broth.\n\n3 days later. Two of the girls decided to stay in the village, either for safety or enjoyment, I don't know. Bubba, Chris, and I have finally found the entrance to Death's location. It actually looks very... lively.\n\nThis paragraph is written a few hours later. Death actually opened the door for us to come in. Turns out, Death is a woman... Never would have figured, guess it's hard to tell since she's nothing but bone, and we'll covered. \n\nDay after that. We never saw death, the village drugged us for spiritual enlightenment, I feel 100 Years older... Everyone's experience was different. Apparently Bubba was screaming racial slurs and attacking the villagers. I saw his corpse in a cage next to the fire.\n\n2 days later. I really hope I'm not drugged this time, we found a cave, drawings of death and skeletons around. Just like the villagers said. It's me, Chris, Sam, and Rebecca. This moment feels... Unreal. We're actually going to defeat the Grim Reaper, and become immortal?... I'm putting the journal down, we have everything ready, we're moving in.\n\n7 months and 2 weeks after initial journal entry;\n\nWe barged in Death's Lair, adrenaline rushing, heads on a swivel. Turns out, besides the scenery, the drugs gave me an accurate expectation. Death understood why we were there, and was still a calm, sincere female. While introducing herself, Chris and Rebecca both opened fire, in hopes of ending it early. The bullets did nothing, and the two began to wither away, instantly. Death wasn't happy. As it turns out, the Goal was to defeat Death in Chess, a game I've been mastering since I was young, and achieved the title \"Grand Master\" in, at a very young age.\n\nWe commenced our game, and I opened up with a queen-side gambit. I can't remember all the moves, but it was a difficult match, and towards the end, it was obvious I was going to win. A Queen, a Rook, and a Pawn versus a Bishop? No chance. On her turn, Death told of what was to come. \n\n\"Defeat me, and immorality is yours. Nothing will end your life, or Sam's. However, this won't be the end of your worries, time is still against you... Yada yada, blah blah.\" I don't remember her words exactly.\n\nBASICALLY, we're immortal if I win, die if I lose (I wasn't gonna lose), but we'd still age like normal people, which means I'll probably be useless around age 80, and Sam won't have enough muscle to push my wheel chair. The catch? We can still defeat Father Time, to stop the aging process! However, we'd have to defeat him in...\n\nA Cloud Blowing Contest. Vaping.\n\nMe and Sam agreed, we'd rather just die normally, rather than pick up a vape. So we're back in the USA, had to jump aboard a cruise line. And guess what! She's pregnant! \n\nWith someone else's kid. Cheating bitch. Filing divorce papers tomorrow. ", "\nAll my life I feared the day \nthat I would have to face the grey. \nSo as I lay in hospice bed, \nI 'pared for battle in my head. \n\nThrough the mist appears a light \nshining sickly, green and bright. \nIt draws near and I can see, \nthe black eyes of eternity. \n\nWe fight a duel of strength and will, \nwe battle o'er the planes until \nThe Reaper yields my victory, \nand grants me immortality. \n\nYet in defeat his smile, unchanged \nghastly, nasty, and deranged \nsours my unbridled glee, \ntainting with uncertainty. \n\n\"Ceaseless though your life may be, \nnothing stays infirmity. \nIf this, your fate, you do reject, \nTake-it up with the Architect.\" \n\n\"How now!\" I cried, an anguished plea, \n\"Defeated Death and yet not free!\" \n\"My soul, Death may no longer claim, \nand yet I lie here, ever lame!\" \n\nA voice, as deep as ocean blue, \nold as mountains, young as dew, \nfloats on in from yonder hall; \n\"I do believe he 'waits my call.\" \n\nFrom my bed I try to rise, \nBlinking visions from my eyes. \nThrough the door there comes a man, \nancient, proud, yet cap in hand. \n\n\"Ah, my friend,\" his voice is soft, \n\"It's been too long since our paths crossed. \nA man this time,\" his tone is wry, \n\"but I can see you in the eyes.\" \n\n\"Azrael lets you win, you know. \neach and every time you row. \nHe likes to send you down the line, \nbroken, battered, in decline. \n\nWhere I await. The final test. \nAn adversary to the blessed. \nI take your eyes, your tongue, your ears, \n To torture your eternal years. \n\nEach time you come to challenge Time, \nYou best my puzzles, games and rhymes. \nAnd thus I grant you your request, \nTo pursue your mortal int'rest. \n\n\nBut now you must quit this charade, \nlet this body crumble, an' fade. \nAttend to those you left alone, \nreturn now to your blackened throne. \n\nA human? Nay, 'twould never be. \nFor your place is beneath the sea, \nfurther down past molten stone, \nreturn now to your blackened throne.\" ", "As the challenger, I didn't get to choose the game. So it was Father Time's decision. My sister and I were in this waiting room for what could have passed for a year until he finally decided. \n\"A race,\" the voice called from the speaker. \"We'll race for it. Your body will never decay if you win.\" \nGood. What I offered if he won was too tempting after all, even for a god. \n\"Where will we race to?\" I asked. \n\"You pick.\" \nNo way. It was going to be that simple? \n\"Brother. I don't know about this.\" She sounded quieter than normal. Neither of us were well respected for our endurance. With all the gambits and games it took us to get to this point, immortality was within reach. \nWe needed to begin strategizing. \n\"Could we pick somewhere time can't reach? Have one of the higher beings whip something up just for this?\" If such a place existed, Father Time could never each it. \n\"It has to be a place we can reach as well,\" she said sadly. \"Besides, we're lower dimension beings. How do we know you won't just get stuck?\" \n\"I couldn't die,\" I assured her. \n\"I know. You'll be stuck there for eternity.\" \nOh. That was less than ideal. \n\"Alright alright, how about if I tossed a coin and just grabbed it. First to the coin wins, and that would be us?\" \nShe shook her head. \"If there's a moment Father Time can take it, then he will.\" \nNo matter how infinitesimal. This was infuriating. We had to pick a place to race to. Somewhere time is irrelevant, but possible for a human. This wasn't going to be chess, word games or first person shooters... \nI had to get there first. \nWhere could such a--- \nOh. \n\"OH!\" \n\"Wait, I'm trying brother, I can't think of anywhere yet!\" She was hyperventilating. We didn't have our cell phones on us anymore, and without internet access, tackling this problem without a global database was impossible. Even for a mind like hers. \n\"Relax little sis. Big bro has got this figured out.\" \nThe look of awe in her face. It was every bit what I needed right now. \nI hoped this would work. \nFor both our sakes. \n\n\"We're ready!\" \nA door opened. He wasn't quite what either of them expected. Father Time was a man, but old and doddering. A cane held him up, with hourglasses etched into every surface a line could fit. Shaky legs took uncertain step after uncertain step to where the two stood. \n\"Where to?\" he asked simply with a quaver. \nThe answer finally clicked. Finding the right words was difficult for an idea this --- bizarre. I had to give it a shot. There was no losing if this was rejected. This old man also had a dramatic streak, making a show of his physical inability. Though he wasn't fooling anyone, it put me off at first. So I would fight fire with fire. \nI pointed a finger to my head. \n\"A memory. First one to remember the day I met my little sister, wins.\" \nHe crooked an eyebrow. \"That's not a place.\" \n\"You didn't ask for a place.\" \nWhere will we race to? \n\"You wouldn't dare, you waste of Imanity!\" \nThere was my cue. My barrage began. \"You had me pick where this race would go because you need someone else to give you directions. Wherever your god powers came from, it didn't come with the wheel. Am I right?\" \nThe old man was silent. \nI continued. \"So how was he supposed to know our destination would be somewhere so abstract? I own the track, the train, and the station to that finish line---\" time for the finishing touch, \"--- and you're not tall enough for this ride.\" \nFather Time said I wouldn't. \nNot that I couldn't. \n\"Checkmate.\" \n\nFor a moment there, my excitement took over. Declaring checkmate without the win guaranteed was never our style. My little sister remained where she stood, trying her best to be invisible. It wasn't one of our tricks, but she was convincing. \nWhich left me to Father Time's undivided attention. \n\"I've seen guts, boy. Courage too. I feel you stamping your foot on that finish line before we even started.\" He peered up at me. \"You were never really sure this was going to work, were you?\" \n\"No. This is only my second time challenging a god.\" \nNow both his eyebrows raised. \"Who did you get?\" \n\"Death,\" I declared. \nFather Time froze, then chuckled. \"That's one hell of an end game you've got yourself boy. What's your name?\" \n\"Blank.\" \n\"Not your team name with the girl---\" she was almost convincing, \"--- I mean yours. You get to play cute once. Don't push it.\" \nAn unpleasant memory surfaced with his words. Beating Death was not nearly this simple. \nBut Father Time hadn't declared our win yet. \n\"Sora.\" \nThe god studied me for a moment. Every higher race had the habit of doing this before our games. This was the first time one bothered to do so after we were done. \n\"You both waited long enough for this silly game of ours.\" He snorted with derision. \"What a nasty trick. I wanted your race pieces.\" \nI know he did. Owning one of the 16 race pieces meant possession of everything that piece represented. I gambled with the 15 we acquired. Our dimension, and all it's species, was the bet. \nIf I had lost, it would have all been over. \nAll this for a little favor. \n\"Do we win then?\" \nFather Time continued digging through me, gauging where I stood. How I stood there. What it took for us to get here. As though he were reading a book, his eyes flickering slightly every few seconds. \nWhatever he was looking for, he found it. \n\"Fine. So you're immortals now.\" His head sat at an odd angle. \"It takes more than that to be a god.\" \n\"He knows.\" Shiro chimed in. \"But we're fine continuing to be part of Imanity. It's part of Blank's game plan.\" \n\"How so?\" the god asked. \n\"We're setting up the pieces to take on the Old Deus's champion.\" \nAnd take the race piece of the gods. \nWith the 16th piece, we could challenge Tet. \nFather Time took a second to process this bold statement. \"It takes more than being an immortal to beat her.\" \n\"We know,\" Blank replied in unison. We were in sync now. \n\"It's part of the plan,\" I informed him. \"Wasn't that what you were looking at me for?\" \n\"No. I read your timeline to see if there was a chance.\" \nWhat did he mean by that? I was going to demand answers, but Shiro grabbed my arm sleeve. \"The game isn't fun if it's spoiled, brother.\" \nShe was right. I nearly got distracted. This was our world to play and game in. Ruining the ride when they were so close to the finish would have taken away from the fun. \nAnd there was nothing Blank liked more than playing. \nWell, and winning of course. \nNow that we were immortals, we could take our time doing so. \n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nMore at r/galokot, and thanks for reading! This is based on the series [No Game No Life](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_Game_No_Life). \n", "I'd always heard the legends, play a game with Death to avoid dying. I'd seen the movies and the memes, but I never thought it would happen to me. Still, I filed it away and forgot about it, until the accident. \n\nI had been walking down the sidewalk, whistling the them song to the X-Men cartoon, the old 90s one. Duhduhduh da duh. You know it. Anyway, as I was walking along, a car suddenly careened over the curb and smashed into me at sixty miles an hour, an impressive feat considering it was a 25 mph zone. As my body hurled through the plate glass of the storefront behind me, I had a brief moment of lucidity, where time slowed down, and then stopped. I realized I was now standing next to my corpse, and I was watched it, frozen in midair like a bad guy in Saint's Row 4, I thought about that rumor I had heard. \n\n\"I challenge Death!\" I shouted it as loud as I could, but instead of some crash of thunder, or earthquake, I just heard a voice behind me, a woman's voice. \n\n\"Okay, what's the game?\" I jumped a bit at that, in spirit anyway. As I turned, I found myself staring at the most stunningly beautiful woman I had ever seen. She had fiery mane of red hair, that shifted to black, then brown, then blonde, cycling through every color as I stared at her. Her eyes did the same, shifting through all the colors of the spectrum as they stared holes in me. She was wearing blue jeans and a simple grey t-shirt, tight, but not so tight as to be crass, across her ample chest. I stammered a bit, never one to be very capable of talking to a woman, even one that was apparently death. As I stared at her full lips, she arched an eyebrow at me.\n\n\"Hello? What's the game?\" Game? What? Oh. Right. The game. The game with Death. Death, who was a beautiful woman. What game could I play with her. \n\n\"Um, can it be any game?\" I had the hint of an idea, but I didn't know if it was allowed. \n\n\"Yep, any game where both sides have an equal chance at victory. Doesn't matter what it is.\" Any game. Alright, I could do this. \n\n\"I challenge Death to a game of Halo.\" Her eyebrows went up at that, but then she smirked. \n\n\"All right, nerd. Let's play some Halo.\" As she spoke, a massive HD TV appeared, followed by big comfy recliners and some ottomans, all in the ruins of the clothing store my body was currently hurtling through. I jumped into a chair, and an Xbox controller appeared in my hand. As she settled into her chair, I couldn't help but notice the way her jeans clung to her skin. She noticed me looking and grinned.\n\n\"Keep it up, buddy. You being distracted just makes this easier.\" She was right, I realized. I needed my full concentration. \n\n\"Rules?\" I didn't know who decided, but I hoped it was me. \n\n\"Deathmatch. One life for every year you've been alive. Twenty-eight a piece. Game ends when one of us is out of lives. Best of three sets. Winner of each set gets to make one demand of the other. Winner lives forever. Loser dies in disgrace. Well, not me, mind you, but you. I can't die.\" Wait, what was that middle part. One demand? Like a wish? What was that about? Before I could ask, I heard the answer counting down the games beginning. I gripped my controller tightly, and prepared myself. \n\n\n----------------------------------------\n\n\n\"Gods damn it all!\" Her voice was loud enough to make me wince, and I realized that maybe gaming against Death wasn't the best idea. I won the first set by one life, and now she was pissed. She turned to stare daggers at me, and my blood turned to ice. \n\n\"What's your demand? Do you want more time? We'll pick up where we left it when you die again. Do you want an advantage in the next game? Some other gift?\" She choked a bit, before continuing. \"Your... wish is my command.\"\n\nI had been thinking about this all game, whenever I wasn't ducking a sniper rifle shot or charging with the sword. \n\n\"If I win the next game, you have to go on a date with me.\" What the hell had I just done?! I clamped my hand over my mouth and leaned back, preparing to be melted on the spot. Instead, she started laughing, and the sound was like music in my ears. She was laughing so hard she buckled over in her chair. As she calmed down, wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes, she looked at me with a heart-melting grin. \n\n\"Alright, nerd. I think I can handle that. This is the most fun I've had in eons. You win the next one, and I'll go on a date with you.\" She eyed me up and down, before licking her lips in a terribly distracting way. \"Who knows? Maybe you'll even get lucky.\" I swallowed hard then. I suddenly felt very much beyond my depth, and realized that maybe a date with Death wasn't supposed to be a positive thing. Steeling myself, I prepared for the next game. \n\n\n------------------------------------------------\n\n\nThe second match went even more smoothly than the first, and I finished her off with the gravity hammer, I noticed that I still had a lot of lives left. Had she let me win? I looked over at her, where she was feigning anger, while trying to hide a grin. \n\n\"You win, nerd. You're now immortal, and we have to go on a date.\" Her voice sounded tauntingly happy, as if she knew the answer to some great joke. My head was spinning in six different directions. I was immortal? And about to go on a date with the most beautiful creature I had ever seen? There had to be a catch. \n\n\"Wow, I uh... wow.\" I tried to speak, but I was having a bit of difficulty even breathing, much less talking. \n\n\"What was that? I didn't catch that?\" She stood up, and pulled me to my feet, the recliners and TV disappearing in a poof. \"So, where are you taking me?\"\n\nWhere was I, taking her? I guess that was kind of important. Would it be as this spirit person, or in my body? I asked her such. \n\n\"Your body of course. As soon as I say the magic words, you'll be transported back in time to the moment before the car hits you, and it will miss you, leaving you happy and alive. Pretty sweet deal, right? And you'll never die again!\" She sounded like a car salesman, but I wasn't going to complain. \n\n\"Okay, well, when I'm back in my body, I guess I'd like to take you to the restaurant my parents own. Its a small little place, but I hope you'll like it.\" I couldn't be sure, I swear her eyes twinkled a bit, and she seemed to be looking forward to it. \n\n\"Alright, nerd. I think I can handle that. I'm looking forward to it. There's just one more thing you need to do.\" Of course, the catch. Here it was. \n\n\"What is it?\" She seemed a bit nervous now, which made me nervous. \n\n\"My Dad says I'm not allowed to date without his permission, so you'll have to ask him... Also, you'll continue to age, for all time, but never die, so you should ask him if he can help you with that too.\" What the hell? I was going to age? And I couldn't date her unless her dad approved? Who the hell was Death's dad? God? Oh man, was I going to have to ask God if I could date his daughter? She hugged my arm tight to her, crushing it into her ample chest. \n\n\"Dad! There's someone here to see you!\" She suddenly shouted, and then I heard the rumble of thunder and the earthquake I anticipated when Death showed up. I turned to her and spoke in a hushed whisper. \n\n\"Um, who's your dad?\" She smiled at me, and I swear the whole world lit up. \n\n\"Father Time, of course. He'll be here in just a sec. Don't worry though, he loves games too!\" I swallowed hard as I heard booming footsteps behind me. I was about to play a game with Father Time, and the stakes couldn't have been higher.\n", "\"And who might you be?\" Father Time asked me with a hint of aplomb. His face was that of a young man but his eyes looked as if they had seen a few thousand years. Made sense, now that I thought of it.\n\n\"Markus,\" I answered. \"Friends call me Mark.\" He stared at me in amusement.\n\n\"I'll call you Markus then,\" he answered cheekily. \"How did you get here? Grim is supposed to keep the lot of you away. Assembly line between life and death, you know? Grim's gotta make himself that zombie army.\"\n\n\"Seriously?\" I asked curiously and he scoffed. \"I beat Mr. Reaper at rock-paper-scissors. First he said winner takes all, then best two out of three and by the time I beat him fifty-one times he quit and let me through. He's a bit of a sore loser.\"\n\nFather Time snorted scornfully. \"Luck. That's all life and death really is. Some people draw the short straw and Grim gets a useless fetus and then sometimes he gets some wicked old cat lady who even I've grown tired of seeing alive.\" He shrugged in resignation and leaned back on his chair made of clouds. \n\n\"I guess I got lucky then,\" I answered with a smile. He arched his eyebrows at me and leaned forward abruptly, making me flinch. He grinned.\n\n\"Maybe,\" he started slyly. \"Or maybe not. And now that you're immortal and Grim told you the conditions, you want to beat me, is that right?\" I nodded. Spot on. I was immortal, but come next century I'd be as bad as my old grandpa who basically had to taunt my mom into smothering him to death with a pillow. Being a miserable old man was not among my plans, but then again neither was dying. \n\n\"So what do I have to do?\" I asked him and he smiled at me deviously. \n\n\"That's up to you,\" he answered with a shrug. \"Hit me with whatever you've got. If you win, you'll stay like you are until somebody else comes along and you'll get to see me turn into the grumpiest old man the world has ever seen.\"\n\n\"And if I lose?\" I asked curiously. His eyes turned hard as stone and I could feel him staring into my soul like only someone who has seen all of humanity could.\n\n\"Nothing happens. You'll just grow old, ageing into infirmity and beyond. You'll have no option to die and no option to challenge me again.\" I shuddered at the thought. Being old grossed me out. Wrinkly skin and smelling like mothballs wasn't exactly prime for dating girls with voluptuous breasts and breathtaking bodies. \n\nI nodded pensively, considering my options. It was quite clear that Father Time could cheat as much as he pleased, bending the rules of time to his advantage. I had to pick something quick; so quick that it was over before he even realized he had lost. \"Rock-paper-scissors,\" I said finally and he chuckled to himself. \"Winner takes all.\" He may have paled slightly but I couldn't be sure.\n\n\"I'm not fond of these odds,\" he admitted as he rolled up his sleeves to prepare himself. \"One-third chance to be free from hell, one-third chance to be here forever...\" His sentence tapered off, as old men's tend to but I paused.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I stuttered, unsure if he was referring to his hell or my hell.\n\n\"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot,\" he began and I didn't even have time to slip in my secret weapon and my fist remained clutched. \"Scissors,\" Father Time said with a smile before looking to my fist. \"Oh, look. You win,\" he added sadly. \"I'm sorry. I hope your replacement comes sooner than mine did. I'll be heading out now.\" He picked up his jacket that was really just a fleece aged several thousand years and walked towards the edge of his cloud. He paused before stepping off. \"Try not to count, Mark. An eternity turns out to be a very long time.\"\n\n\n*****\n\nThanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out more stories at /r/MatiWrites. Constructive criticism and advice are always appreciated!" ]	8
" My skin might be pale as snow But for my heart, 99% black is too low " As I guessed, no one understood that this was about white guys who behave like black guys	[WP] Show your true colors and embrace the darkness	[ "Inside of me there is the kind of darkness which is absolute. It is the kind of darkness which was before the universe, the kind of darkness which is at the center of black holes and in every corner and crevice which man has not seen. It is the absence of all reality; an endless void which can never be filled.\n\nUpon occasion, this darkness seeps out of me and steals the light away from the joyful and the living. It can only take. And take it does, drowning any form of luminescence in a sea of nothingness. Happiness, motivation, hope: all exhibit energy which is swallowed up by the darkness. It is inescapable.\n\nI ponder when the darkness first begin to manifest in what was once my soul, but I can't remember a time when I was without it. It is part of me now. I wait for it to slowly consume my consciousness, until there is only darkness. Every night, I lie in bed, watching and waiting, anticipating the onset of the emptiness felt in the small hours of the night. Eventually, I fall prey to the darkness, and it calls to me as I slowly surrender my thoughts to it, and drift off to sleep. ", "\"Cultist and Mass murderer Katherine Strange has finally been captured. After a long and grueling search her victims have been rescued from Strange's basement. Cynthia Luft, Trevor Herm, and Penelope Martinez have been wounded but they will recuperate.\"\n\n\"Missing woman has been found strangulated. Method of assault reminiscent of Katherine Strange. Police suspect a copy cat.\"\n\n\"Penelope Martinez found dead in her home. A note by her body was found that said 'Strange is still here'. Authorities are investigating a possible connection to Strange's copy cat.\"\n\nText messages:\n> Trevor: Please speak to me Cynthia. Penelope has died and you're the only one left who understands. I need you. please Cynthia\nSent 9:89pm\n\n\"Trina Taft found strangulated in Crowe's Park, the same place from which Cynthia Luft and Trevor Herm were kidnapped. Note found at the scene of the crime said 'Three little piggies ran away, one is dead, two little piggies ran away'\"\n\n> Trevor: Cynthia, are you ok? Did you hear the news? I know you live near the park. If you need to stay over it's fine. Read 5:04pm\n\n> Cynthia: Trevor, everything is going to be fine. Katherine is dead. Don't worry. Sent 3:04am\n\n\"Trevor Herm found hanging from a tree in Crowe's Park. The suspected suicide is being investigated by authorities.\"\n\n\"Cynthia Luft has gone missing. Authorities suspect Strange's copy cat has kidnapped her.\"\n\n> Cynthia: Trevor, don't worry. You're now free. Katherine was right. This is better. Sent: 11:46" ]	2
In an effort to preserve history, transcribe this book.	[WP] The year is 3184, inside an ancient artifact, what the people of the time called a "book", is written a historical account of the 3rd world war.	[ "\"What is it?\" General Quinn asked as the strange rectangular object was placed in front of her.\n\n\"According to the markings inside, it is a book.\" An elderly scholar by the name of Eli stepped forward and opened the mysterious object.\n\n\"Is it a weapon?\" General Quinn asked, shielding herself with her arm as a cracking sound came from the cover.\n\n\"No, I do not believe it is. We've analyzed the material and it appears to be made from a tree. The letters are carved into the page using some sort of carbon fiber. The language is old but it is similar to our own, similar enough to read the contents at least.\" Eli tapped the bottom of the first page. \"It says that it was created in 2180.\"\n\n\"That's over a thousand years ago!\" General Quinn stared in shock. \"Why would someone take a tree, one of our rarest resources, and turn it into this object? Why would they waste so much time doing this when all of our thoughts are automatically transcribed into our personal cloud?\"\n\n\"I don't know, but I do know that it is something you should read. It is the story of the 3rd World War.\" Eli said as he slid the book across the table.\n\n\"I know the story of the 3rd World War.\" General Quinn snapped back.\n\n\"Not this one you don't.\" Eli turned towards the door. \"This object might change everything...\"\n\nGeneral Quinn left the object on her table for a while. After a few hours passed, her work day was done, and she immediately began to sip essence from her private databank. It was the good stuff, the kind most couldn't afford. It created a mixture of joy, relaxation and simulated an adrenaline rush, all at the same time. She sat down at her desk and opened the page, staring at the words. Eli was right. She could understand most of them.\n\n\"A Historical Account of World War III\" - By Alexander Clinton\n\n\"Alexander Clinton... Why does that name sound familiar?\" She asked out loud as she flipped the page.\n\nWe had peace for a very long time. Once religion was abolished, the driving force behind our need to kill each other started to fade. We drifted away from the use of natural Earth elements to fuel our lives once synthetic oil was created. Ironically, once oil was no longer rare, we no longer needed it. Our leaders embraced new technology, rather than rejecting it. Our eyes were opened and we turned our attention to the stars, where new resources waited--or so we hoped.\n\nThere were plenty of people that warned us against our new endeavors. They didn't believe we were alone in the universe, and thought exploration would bring others to our planet. They were right. Once we discovered light speed technology and began to travel the stars, we quickly learned we were insignificant children in a vast adult world we didn't understand. It wasn't long until someone figured out where the new children were coming from, and they started to visit us on a regular basis.\n\nAt first, everything was exciting. We called them all aliens, a generic term for those not born on Earth. Slowly, we began to realize we were nothing but barbarians to most, and a tourist attraction to the rest. Scholars from across the stars came to study our history. The things we did were deplorable to them. We consumed our own kind, although we never considered animals like cows and pigs to be our own kind. They were food to us, but to the scholars, all living beings were a part of their grand ecosystem. We were murderers.\n\nAfter they spent a decade studying our taste for blood, war, and our lust for carnal pleasures and destruction, we were put on trial. The entire human species was found guilty of intergalactic crimes so terrible the only solution was genocide. We had to be erased. We were too dangerous to be welcomed. Our planet was quarantined and it wasn't until the first ships with troops from across the galaxy arrived that we realized our fate.\n\nTheir mission was to erase us from the planet, but preserve the planet so that it could serve as a reminder of the evils in the universe. We called it Earth. They called it Hell, a literal representation of their fairy tales, filled with cannibals, criminals, and the worst scum in the universe. What they failed to fully comprehend was our ability to evolve and adapt. They expected us to willingly line up for execution, like any other species would do, since it had been deemed necessary. Instead, we chose to fight. We armed the world from men to women to beasts of burden. We fought back.\n\nWar was a rather new concept for the universe, but not for us. We had been using our weapons on each other for so long that we knew how to wield them with deadly accuracy. They were simply not prepared. What we discovered from the ones we captured and tortured for information was that the universe hadn't faced real conflict in millions of years. The entire universe had become peaceful. Weapons were practically non-existent except for a small force of Peacekeepers that hadn't been dispatched in thousands of years. Some didn't even remember why the small military force was necessary. None of them had even seen an actual battle outside of their advanced simulations. When we got our hands on their simulations, we found that our youngest children could beat them. They weren't even as challenging as the video games they played for entertainment.\n\nWe called it World War III, the fight for our planet. With our advanced military, we defended ourselves from extinction. They scrambled to create weapons to rival our own, but intergalactic politics prevented them from creating the weapons of mass destruction required to truly destroy us. They couldn't bring themselves to slaughter the innocent cows, pigs, birds and other animals they called our hostages. Eventually, the violence stopped. A representation from the Intergalactic Counsel met with our President, and a treaty was written.\n\nI write this one day after the treaty was signed. Tomorrow, we will be completely quarantined. We agreed to let them destroy our ability to travel through space, and they agreed we would never be visited again. The idea of our violent nature spreading into the universe scares them. They would prefer to let us fester in our own hell than to ever leave our Solar System. A part of this treaty requires our minds to be wiped. It is a voluntary process and can only be done to those who willingly accept it. Our President has promised to execute any who do not willingly accept it. I myself will have to accept it, which is why I took the time to write this down. Our President will be allowed to retain his memory, and the knowledge will be passed down to each new President on the day he is elected. None of us will remember that part, either.\n\nTrace elements will be difficult to erase, and people will write about what they remember, yet they won't believe it is fact. What I write will likely be found one day and labeled as Science Fiction. I assure anyone who has found this book that my words are true. I risk treason by writing them. Even with my memory wiped, I will face execution if it is ever discovered. What they are doing to us isn't right. We have the ability to conquer the stars. Their peaceful nature makes them as trivial as the food on my plate. We should not give up without a fight. We should not succumb so easily. They are wounded and they are weak. I doubt this treaty will hold. They will slink back to their homes and spend time creating new weapons, weapons that can actually destroy us. When they come again, we will be at a disadvantage.\n\nOur only hope is to prepare, and I will prepare us, the best I can.\n\n\"Eli, my chambers. NOW!\" General Quinn said angrily into her communicator.\n\n\"Yes?\" Eli asked as the door opened and he stepped inside.\n\n\"Do you believe this?\" General Quinn pointed at the book.\n\n\"I do.\" Eli said sadly.\n\n\"Why?\" General Quinn glared at the older man.\n\n\"Because of who wrote it.\" Eli flipped back to the title page and tapped the name Alexander Clinton.\n\n\"That name does sound familiar...\" General Quinn responded.\n\n\"It should. Alexander Clinton was elected President five years after the date this book was written. He created our Planetary Defense System. People called him a lunatic.\" Eli pursed his lips and shrugged. \"He was impeached before his term was finished.\"\n\n\"That's right... President Alexander Clinton, the fool...\" General Quinn silently laughed. \"They touched on him briefly in school.\"\n\n\"Funny thing though. His successor didn't dismantle the Planetary Defense System. Each President we've had since Alexander Clinton has actually worked to make it stronger, despite negative reactions and campaign promises to dismantle it.\" Eli said.\n\n\"Because they know...\" General Quinn looked out her window.\n\n\"You mean they knew.\" Eli stared at the destruction that lie on the horizon, the ruins of what was once Chicago. \"They knew what was coming.\"\n\n\"Well then.\" General Quinn said as her fingers rested on her pistol. \"I guess there's only one thing to do.\"\n\n\"Indeed.\" Eli said. \"We won't sign the treaty this time.\"\n\n\"No we won't.\" General Quinn walked to her computer and tapped a few buttons. \"We're going to give them the hell they feared--Get me the President.\"\n\n\"Right away, General Quinn.\" Eli's face turned to a smile as he opened the door and left General Quinn's quarters.\n\nThe real war was about to begin. Humanity had defeated the invaders for what they thought was the first time, but it was actually the second. They had a thousand years to create weapons to destroy us, but they still failed. Our lust for violence was still too strong for a universe built on Pacifism. Eli did as he was told, and he heard the President's screams as General Quinn executed him in her quarters. He would never sign the treaty, and the knowledge his successors passed on would die with him. It was time for a new era, the era of humanity.\n\n\n\n", "Forward:\n\nI am writing to you now in the hopes that our mistakes be not repeated. Countless dead and more wishing they had met the same fate. The human race is reaching a point of no return. The planet as we know it is changing; naturally and unnaturally. Our survival options are running thin. If peace does not come soon, I fear our existence will burn out like the dying light of an old star. At this point, it does not matter how the war began, nor does it matter what happened in between. Diplomacy failed, human decency failed, compassion, love, friendship, all failed. I failed. The war is not over.\n\nIf you are reading this, your ancestors survived, they pushed forward. If you are still fighting, I am sorry; heed my words and pass them on. We were so close to a golden age. A time of great expansion across the galaxy. It was all planned, but the best laid plans of mice and men, always go awry. I truly believe had our plans worked, the war, everything, could have been avoided. The course of human history has been irreparably damaged, pushing us to the verge of oblivion. Our technology was close, but still so very far from the one thing that could save us. Change the past. Find a way to come back. Find a way to come back and save the human race, there is good in us, we can make things right. I beg you, for the good of humankind and the good of the planet Earth; come back, save us...from ourselves.\n\n\nSincerely,\n\n\nPresident of the United States of America\n\n\n\nPage 1\n\nJanuary 10th 2248, Inauguration Day\n\nSave us, war is war and nothing more.\n\nEnd \n\n", "\"In primitive cultures, it is believed that 'Written Language' was used extensively as a crude method of current day thought transfer. The symbols inscribed would correspond to an utterance known as a 'pronunciation.' 'Pronunciation' differed between culture, which necessitated in early times 'translations,' that would transcribe the thoughts contained within the 'written language' into a different 'language,' perhaps comparable to a cruder form of the Thought Nexus today.\"\n\n\"This is a primitive device that was called a 'book,' not to be confused with current day books. While thought exchange and mimetic transfer is performed automatically with present day books, primitive 'books' printed material physically and relied extensively on the process of 'written language.' It is believed this is the last primitive book ever published\"\n\n\"This book describes the great Conflagration of 2098, which of course you know as the 'Babel wars.' The struggle of contemporary governments for monopoly upon thoughts involved extensive mimetic campaigns to destroy certain symbols, and thus, deprive certain thoughts of the ability to be communicated. 'Metaphors' (not to be understood as present day 'metaphors') were created in order to associate certain physical objects with certain thoughts, and thus encode certain behaviors based off of the perceived desirability of said objects in relation to said 'thoughts.'\"\n\n\"Systems of cross-lingual contamination were used to spread these metaphors, and to ensure that they would not die out. Metaphors slowly became the dominant form of language; to control metaphor meant controlling abstraction itself. Constant metaphorical bombardment began degrading the individual's ability for abstraction in favor of a more collectivized system of language. Of course, the fractured nature of the primitive internet of the time did little to help the eventual polarization of 'language.' In the end, there were two major languages, the Indo-European megaroid and the Sino-australasian megaroid. All other languages had become assimilated, or mere dialects.\"\n\n\"With central government monopolies upon both languages, things had settled into a fairly comfortable time, in which there was central peace and chaos at the seams between the borders, metaphors and pronunciations (although vocal communication was dying out in favor of then primitive neural nexus systems) exchanging rapidly along the nomadic hinterlands of the Urals and Himalayas, the Brazilian jungles and the Cape of Africa. \n\n\"Of course, all could not remain peaceful. Junk and especially subversive metaphors were routinely targeted, but the central governments' shear inertia overpowered efforts to keep language efficient. Suddenly, a simple apple could refer to dozens of things; its sweet flavor referring to a central government policy, but also its rotund shape mocking the often obese bureaucrats. The question of what a certain symbol means suddenly became matters of what subtle, differing values you held. Suddenly, there was individualism. Suddenly, the monolithic language and monolithic thought could not sustain itself.\" \n\n\"The Farsi rebellion was, of course, the beginning of the end. Language became an issue of nationalism, and efforts were mounted to purge outsider influence from a certain language or another. Germanic purged Latin influences, then Japonic purged Sinic Kanji, then Korean fully purged Hancha. Thousands of new languages emerged, often so incomplete they could hardly mount a simple order.\"\n\n\"The messy Babel Wars had begun. It was common for a single man to have over twenty allegiances to varying languages, often confused by the implications of one over the other. Language of the time heavily influenced thought; often, in the time of chaos, violent language made violent thought. Lacking the means to articulate values, the problem of language boiled down to a simple 'with us or against us.' Violent fighting took over the cities, with only the most homogeneous cities surviving.\"\n\n\"In the end, lacking consistent language, lacking metaphor, there was no thought. By 2193, fully a 104 years since the Farsi rebellion, the neural nexus emerged from the ashes. Metaphors could not ever be controlled, but in the end, they were exchanged so quickly that it hardly mattered. By 2210, the new monolith was formed, and the new, global language of thought exchange was established.\" \n\n\"This book was published by perhaps the last practitioner of traditional language. Like primitive communicators, he was often constrained to the parameters of one language while speaking, which hampered his ability to communicate.\" \n\n\"Thank you for your time, and enjoy your stay in the New York Neural Terminal Museum of Neural Network Development. Please visit our gift shop.\"" ]	3
Please write a story about 2 characters switching roles after living "long enough".	[WP]You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. The reverse is true as well.	[ "The medals hung in projection boxes on my wall, mocking me with their small inscriptions touting my good virtues. Combat was hard on me, hard on all of us; I don't think anyone came back the same.\n\nA soft creak sounded to my right as the door opened to my study, her blonde curls popped around the side a moment later.\n\n\"Daddy are you gonna come to my tea party now?\"\n\n\"Yes, sweetheart I'll be right there\"\n\nHer smile was brighter than the sun streaming through the windows, glinting brightly off my encased medals on the wall. I never could get over how much she looked just like her Mother, her face shaped like a heart with sky blue eyes; eyes that always held a shade of doubt these days. Just like her Mother, they both seemed to walk on eggshells around me since I got home. \n\nI sat down at the small pink table set with tiny dishes and stuffed animal companions, the whole group was here....well almost. I poured the tea for all us, it would be best this way, easiest. \n\nShe crinkled her nose after the first sip \"Daddy why does this taste funny?\"\n\n\"Shh baby it's good for you, it's the most special tea in the World, only Princesses get to drink it\" \n\nI sipped mine as well holding back a grimace as I did, I watched her drink down the whole cup trusting me and slowly her small body became more tired until she rested on the table as if in a slumber. She was very much like her Mother now, resting peacefully in the bed upstairs. They're better off this way no one should have to live in a World where bad things can happen. \n\nI felt myself drifting now, getting more tired as well so I rested myself on the table with Kenzie. I wonder if Alison, my beloved Wife felt any pain as I suffocated her? I don't think so she didn't really struggle for long. \n\nNow we can all be together in a better place, no more being a Hero for my Country.", "The first time I started realizing I had a problem was when I brought Giga Flame back from the dead, an odd choice for filling a lazy Saturday night, given that she was the one that foiled all of my plans.\n\n\nBut honestly she had spent way too much in the afterlife and none her so called \"hero\" \"friends\" seemed to be bothered to do anything about it, most of them passed over the Styx and back every couple of months but apparently this time \"her sacrifice to save the Earth meant so much\" so they chose to \"honour her and not cheapen it\".\n\n\nBullshit, I remembered that crisis, that guy from outer space was stupid and uninspired and just because Flame was a bleeding heart and took the bullet for planet Earth doesn't mean she should stay dead. \n\n\nAfter a few hours of tense negotiations with the British trench coat brigade, I got her back, and what thanks do I get for my effort ?\n\n\nRape accusations, just because she woke up without any memories and naked on my lab table, well maybe I should have then I wouldn't be in this mess, but no I just let her go so we could go back to our game of cat and mouse.\n\n\nSome weeks later her and the rest of the super friends barge in to my lab, see the earth is once again under attack and it's my planet too apparently and don't I have a mega laser lying around to lend them ?\n\n\nBah I should have just trashed it like I intended but I let them have it, it was going to get out of my hair either way.\n\n\n\"I bet you're not smart enough to cure Emerald Braid of his cancer !\" I was smart enough to see through your infantile deception but ooh the challenge it beckoned to me, to prove myself more gifted than your \"morally upright\" super scientists.\n\n\nSoon I found myself saying blatant lies like \"This isn't a team up, I'm just helping so that I can kill you myself later!\" just to keep up the facade.\n \n\nMaybe if I had been friendlier with other villains, they would have cared and staged a intervention but right now I'm using my legitimate grant money to buy some flowers because me and Flame have a real no pretence date tonight ... what have I become ???", "Kuwan, Night of the 5th day in the 17th year\n\nThe night is young and ever changing. A gentle breeze blows past a woman next to Mirror Lake. She looks into it and admires the twinkling stars. She then looks down at her hand to see the engagement ring on her finger and sighs. She is wearing the traditional Sveknik style wedding dress, a white shawl covering a plain black dress. The Noble of Kuwan fell for her at first sight, and now she has to marry him or else he'll burn down her village. She sighs again and whispers, \"too cruel\". She hears footsteps behind her and turns around. A man in a top hat and cloak stops a few inches away and asks, \"What is troubling you miss? A pretty girl like you looks better with a smile.\" The woman looks down in embarrassment. The man walks to her right and sits next to her. \"Beautiful night, isn't it?\", he says as he looks up to the sky. The woman looks at him and then looks up at the sky as well.\n\"It is, although... its beauty is dimmed tonight.\"\nThe man looks at her with pity. \"Do you want the pain to go away?\" The woman looks at the man again, but this time with caution. \"I do, but nothing will stop my fate\". The man smiles and pulls something from out of his cloak.\n\"Look at this. It will surely help you feel better.\"\nThe woman thought for a moment, her curiosity becoming greater than her caution. She looks at the man's hand to see an orb. A black mist began to form within it and started to seep out of the orb. The woman didn't have a chance to scream as the mist quickly surrounded her. The mist went back into the orb just as quickly as it came. The night was the same as usual, but with one change. Only a man was sitting next to a lake, looking up at the stars. \n\nUkay, Night of the 5th day in the 17th year\n\nA man runs down the narrow alley between two clay houses. He stumbles and falls on the sandy path. \"I have to get to the boss\", the man whispers. The man hurriedly gets back up and runs faster than he has ever ran before. After running through more alleyways, he sees the door of a bar. He burst in, and the titter in the bar stops. He rushes toward the counter and calls out towards a door behind it, \"Boss! I got some bad news!\" A man in gray pants and white shirt sticks his head out through the door and asks, \"Is it him?\"\n\"Yes. It was in Kuwan this time. He's getting closer, Boss. You have to leave here!\"\nThe Boss looks at the man with sadness in his eyes. \"I can't keep running from him. I will stay here.\" The man falls to his knees, the light fading from his eyes. All of the people in the bar begin to fall to the floor, one after the other. The Boss looked around sadly.\n\"My precious children... sleep... It will all be over soon.\" \nThe Boss goes back into his room and sits at a desk filled with newspaper clippings. He begins to gather them up and puts them into a waste basket underneath the desk. A lone clipping falls from the pile, almost like it was refusing to be thrown away. The man picks it up and reads \"... no one can stop the Shadowmeister from his endless terror. Officials say that they have the Hero, Graski, on the case. Where is he now? What is taking him so long to stop the Shadowmesiter's atrocious deeds?\" He snorts and rips the clipping to shreds. \"I will not be able to live up to everyone's expectations.\" He opens the desk drawer and pulls out a letter from Sveknik officials. \"I'm sorry\", he whispers. He looks up to the ceiling and presses his hands against his head. A sword glows in the corner of the room. He looks at it for a few moments before standing up and walking towards it. He grabs the hilt and tries to touch it. His hand is stopped inches away from the sword from a shock. He pulls back his hand and groans. He looks out of a window, towards the growing night. Clouds covered the stars that he so desperately wanted to see.\n\n10 years later\n\nA young man walks into a bar and sits at a table full of adventurers. They welcome him with smiles and congratulations. He returns their smiles and sits down next to a man clad in shimmering armor. The man claps him on the back and says, \"The hero is finally here! Now the celebration can really begin!\" \nThe young man looks cheerful as he says, \"Thanks, Gratuis!\"\nGratuis gives the young man a toothy grin and calls out to the bartender, \"One more grog for over here, Master!\" As the Master brings over the thick brown liquid in a cup, the adventurers begin to talk about their most recent success. Gratuis boisterously announces, \"It was Tartius here who struck him down!\" He claps the young man, Tartius, on the back again. Tartius laughs, \"It was nothing. He was a fallen hero. He had to be dealt with, so I just did what was right.\" All of the adventurers break into a cheer. They all begin to chatter away cheerfully, talking about the reward that they had just gotten. Tartius then looks down with a complex look on his face. Gratius notices and asks, \"Why the gloomy face?\"\nTartius replies, \"I just don't get why Graski would do something like that.\"\n\"Well, he fell when he killed those innocents and blamed it on the Shadowmeister.\"\n\"I know that... I really do... but HOW was he able to?\"\n\"You saw them right? His dolls.\"\nTartius sighs and says, \"Yeah, I saw them. He was controlling the Shadowmeister all that time, wasn't he??\"\nGratius closes his eyes and thinks hard for a moment before saying, \"Shadow might be a doll, but he has his own living soul now. We are lucky that he was able to break free from Graski.\"\nThe two men downed their grogs and Gratius calls out to the Master, \"Two more over here!\"\n ", "He kept his head down and the collar of his jacket pulled up around his face. This was partially to keep dry but also to hide his face. The rain was hard and unending but all the new technology was utterly unaffected. Everywhere he could see the various images and messages telling the populace to obey and comply with the authorities that controlled the city.\n\n\nHe eventually found what he was looking for. A box marked with a smile. Inside there was a a box of explosives, some knives, and a purple coat. He put on the coat after discarding the one he had showed up with, put all the knives in his belt, and planted the explosives on the wall.\n\n\nThere was a massive explosion as the smoke cleared he walked through it. The various soldiers dressed in black pointed their guns at him. \"You don't have to do this. You all know who I'm here for.\"\n\n\nThe soldiers all hesitated for a moment. A few of them put down their guns and walked away. He was thinking for a moment of how to get out of this when he thought back for a moment. \"Do you all want to know how I got these scars?\"", "Thomas Roark breathed deeply in and out, in and out, letting his lungs settle into a calm, even rhythm. Then he continued his climb up the side of the Gloria Reyes Apartment Complex. He measured his breath carefully as he climbed, wary of any irregularities. His endurance was well beyond what it had any right to be at his age, but he still had to be careful. Didn't want to lose focus at a critical moment and... Belinda. Arms outstretched, jaw wide open, those adorable little fangs bared... Eyes betraying the sudden pain striking her -- ... and end up like Belinda. Roark stopped again, steadied his breathing, and went on.\n\nFinally, after what seemed like ages, Roark's hand gripped the edge of the roof. As he pulled himself up, he caught sight of a tall, thin man standing in the center. Long, tangled gray hair blew in the wind around his impassive face. Roark didn't mind. He could do impassive too. So he stared at the man in front of him, silent. The taller of the two broke the silence first.\n\n\"Took you long enough to get here.\" he said in a voice that croaked and cracked from disuse. Then he spat at Roark's feet and stared at him again, waiting for a reply. Roark just stared back expectantly. The tall man spoke again. \"I figured I might have to peg a few more of the crowd to get you to come. This kind of sharpshooting isn't easy for me, Durante. My eyes, you know, they aren't so good.\" \n\n\"Roark,\" said Roark, \"Not Durante. Those days are over, Stephen.\" Now it was Stephen's turn to watch silently. Roark pressed on. \"Listen, it's not looking good. Three people in the hospital, two dead, and plenty of eyewitnesses. If you keep going this way you'll end up--\"\n\nHe was cut off as Stephen exploded. \"Why do we have to listen to them? Those people down there, expecting us to grow old and die like them! Us, Roark! We were like gods to them! And they expect us to move aside just like that?\" Stephen coughed, apparently worn out by his diatribe. \"Roark,\" he continued, softly, \"Don't you want it to be like the old days? When it was simpler? Just you and me, Roark, just Captain Power and Durante. Looking back on it all, you made a lot of sense. We could be...\" he measured his words for a moment. \"Partners.\"\n\nRoark's mind flashed with images, with Belinda horribly still and horribly moving, caught in the current's fierce grasp -- \"It was never just us,\" he said angrily, \"or have you forgotten her? Have you forgotten what you did?\" Stephen's eyes almost seemed to water for a second. Then his mouth twisted into a horrible snarl, and a flash of lightning sprang from his hands, straight for Roark's face --\n\nThe blast was visible from the street, and the onlookers gasped, fearing the worst. Up above, though, Stephen's eyes narrowed as the smoke cleared to reveal Roark standing there, apparently unbothered. As the dust began to waft away, Roark's skin began to melt back into its normal brown from the stony cast it had taken just before the lightning struck. \"The old impasse,\" Stephen intoned, \"of the unstoppable force and the unmovable object. You can't be damaged by my lightning, and I'm too quick for you to hit. The very paradox that led to your escape in so many of our encounters.\" Stephen started toward the edge of the roof, a gleam in his eye. \"And now, it will be most invaluable in mine!\"\n\n\"Hey, Cap,\" Roark said suddenly, \"remember how I could never get the hardening trick to go in reverse?\" \n\nStephen looked confused for a moment, then shocked as the realization dawned. He dashed for the edge of the roof, but Roark clicked his fingers and the stone under his feet gave way like a thick layer of mud. Stephen sank up to the waist and then stopped as the stone solidified, trapping him neatly as a fly in amber. \"Now,\" Roark grunted as his fist went from brown to dark gray to coal black, \"have a nap.\" Stephen took the punch on the chin and lolled, unconcious.\n\n***\n\nRoark watched the ambulance drive off, flanked by two SWAT vans. He'd been patted on the shoulder by a man maybe a third of his age who he thought he vaguely recognized as having some ability relating to data, thanked by the mayor, and had more pictures taken than he'd had in years. And for a good deed, too? Madness... Roark was pulled from his thoughts by the man who sat down next to him. He would have been hard to ignore, given the bronze skin and the fact that he was over nine feet tall. Roark struggled to find a name. \"Simons? Alfred Simons, right?\"\n\nThe man laughed, a deep brassy reverberating sound. \"Yeah, that's right. Most people still just call me Colossus, even though the glory days are long gone. Then again, most people never got knocked out by me in front of the TV news...\" \n\nRoark allowed himself a chuckle. \"Yes, I suppose so. How's the stock market working out?\"\n\n\"Fine, fine, just fine. It's been fine for twenty years.\" Colossus sighed. \"Sometimes I've thought about getting back out there, but... well, we know how that tends to turn out.\" They were both quiet for a few minutes. \"I actually came over to thank you for stopping Stephen,\" Colossus said. \"He never was the same, uh, after he...\" He stopped, seeming uneasy.\n\n\"Since he killed my Belinda,\" finished Roark. \n\n\"Yes,\" Colossus said, \"since that. He didn't mean to, I think, he just... He thought she was about to kill him, and he panicked. Like I said, he never was the same. If that hadn't happened, maybe he wouldn't have done what he did tonight.\"\n\nRoark mulled this over. \"Maybe,\" he said. \"I don't think I'd have done this either, if she hadn't died then. Probably be in jail right now.\" He sat there silently for a little while. \"You know, we have the short end of the stick. You get to leave before something terrible happens. Us, we just keep going until something stops us.\" \n\nColossus didn't reply. Roark didn't have much else to say, so he sat there in silence a while longer, then stood, knees creaking. \"Well, I'm going home.\" he said. \"Good luck. Stay out of trouble.\" Then he vanished into the night.\n\n**\n\nIn the morning, Roark walked down to the grocery store for a bottle of milk and ended up buying a copy of every newspaper in stock. He spread them out on his kitchen table when he got home and went through them one by one, discarding tabloids and ones without the story he was looking for and placing others carefully in a pile to be saved. The Rising Sun* he saved for last. He picked it up appreciatively, noting the name of the article's writer -- it was one he remembered from the old days -- and silently elated at the front-page place of pride. He hadn't hit the front page for years. The headline read, in bold type, Durante Returns. Below that, Former villain stops rampage of beloved hero. Roark read through the article and marveled at the pictures, feeling the rush of fame he hadn't had since he was still robbing banks and battling heroes. When he was done, he scooped up the pile of papers he'd decided to save and put them in the basement. In a few hours, he'd cut the articles and pictures out and tack them up on the walls in his spare room, alongside rows of yellowing articles before a menacing costume in a glass case. For now, though... \n\nRoark decided to do a bit of gardening.", "I never thought the response to blowing up a government building would be responded to with cheering (at least after the initial shock). I've always been anti-establishment, I assassinated, murdered, destroyed and they had a word for me that they liked to use, terrorist. Some have a different description for me now, freedom fighter. \n\nIt's curious what an oppresive government with almost limitless serveillance can do to warp the mindset of the people, the government they once had a little bit of trust in becomes this giant monster that has a tendency of making people who complain about it disappear all of sudden. I mean, they're the ones who elected for extra security measures to keep them safe from the 'terrorists', the people like me.\n\nI mean, apart from having to be more careful about how I actually do the assassinations and bombings, my activities haven't really changed. Just what people call them, attrocities to retribution, acts of terrorism to acts of defiance. It's amazing how nothing and everything can change simulaniously. Maybe there really is no such thing as 'good and evil', maybe there really only is 'order and chaos'. I quite like being the good guy, maybe I'll end up rallying a rebellion, inspire the ousting of a government. Maybe there'll be a new one in it's place to promise a new set of lies and propose some new 'security measures'.\n\nMaybe I'll be hailed a hero, and then I'll blow up a government building.\n\nI'm guessing the response will be different.", "They say that evil is a slippery slope. I never even considered the idea that it's slippery enough to slip out of.\n\nThe game was simple. I steal the money from the people and he gives it back. I am evil and he is good. I would plan a way to capture him and he would come in and save the day skipping off into the woods merry as can be.\n\nThat's how it's supposed to be. Then he started brooding, becoming more withdrawn. He became less of a friend to the people and more like a ruler.\n\nBefore it was all harmless pranks. I'd extort the people of their money and he'd trick me, and get it back. Didn't even use real arrows, used to fight by shooting blunt sticks.\n\nNow the kingdom is beginning to go under. I mean it's always had an evil aristocracy that abused the public but now no one is evening the playing field. The people's champ, the hero is now leading a real rebellion, he ransacks the land and leaves the poor even poorer. The rich can no longer extort the people and are beginning to starve from the siege, reduced into poverty themselves. He's not playing anymore, and everyone suffers as a result.\n\nBefore it was a game, now it's war. The people need me. I never thought I would say this but I need to stop the criminals, not for my own sake, not for the rich's sake, but for everyone's. To be honest I'm scared, never have the stakes been so high, and losing has never been so horrifying.\n\nFor the first time ever I feel proud as I put on my badge. It is time. Time for the Sheriff of Nottingham to arrest the single rich citizen, Robin Hood, and give all that he has stolen to the poor.", "It was not Ferdinand’s first rodeo, but perhaps it would be his last. \n\nHe always hated the noise, more than anything else. His ears twitched irritably at the noises of humanity as his hoofs pawed at the pressed dirt beneath, raising clouds of dust. His hide was slick with sweat from the arena lights, and the dust stuck to it like burrs. \n\nThe smell was a second to his hatred of the rodeo. The cheap liquor that the humans always imbibed saturated the air as much as the smell of rain in a storm. The odor of the fried feed that fattened the humans like a sow for slaughter hung thick in his nostrils. And the smell of fear. \n\nThe rider on top of Ferdinand was shaking, a tight vibrato of muscles with the human’s skinny shanks digging into Ferdinand’s full flanks. The human’s sweat could not be blamed on the hot stadium of lights but tasted so strongly of utter terror that Ferdinand was surprised she still kept her seat upon his back. The way she jerked the rope—tightening her grip until he could no longer feel her fingers, then loosening it again, only to tighten up once more—spoke of her immaturity and youth. \n\nFerdinand knew the legend of his name. He had seen the humans talk over him with equal parts awe and bravado when he was encaged. Most that took their seat on his back were veterans puffed with that selfsame machismo, which quickly corrected itself to horror once he was let out into the arena and they felt the force of his hatred. \n\nNot this human. There was no bluster overlaying the dread. Yet, there was a grim sort of determination, of a steer fated for slaughter and fighting all the same, of a milk cow separated from her calf but bleating for his return.\n\nFerdinand was getting older. He had seen the sands of times pass. He had watched his childhood friend disappear into eternity. He had sired calves and watched them reach the same fate. Life and death, like the rise and fall of the sun, was forever and evermore. \n\nHe was tired. He yearned for his field of green, tall enough to brush his belly. He dreamed of the cool burble of the stream in the far corner of the lot. He longed for an unending summer day with the friends and family in a herd, never to be separated. \n\nYet, desires, Ferdinand had found, were like a first burst of winter’s wind, ethereal and promising that the halcyon days were coming to a close. Summer was at an end for Ferdinand, and he had the feeling that he would soon find out where all his friends had journeyed when they fell away from reality and into forever.\n\nThe chute opened. The human on Ferdinand’s back tightened. He could feel her pulse from her thighs, beating a tattoo against his hide. There were two beats of hers for every one of his. Three for every one. \n\nThe electric prod broke his reverie, and Ferdinand took to the pounded dirt before him in front of the faceless crowd. In his first steps, he made a decision. \n\nHe bucked, not with vehemence, but with artistry. It was a calibrated movement, as graceful as a pirouette. It looked impressive, but there was no force in it. All the same, the terrified human almost became unbalanced. She shifted dangerously, her center of mass falling of his side.\n\nShe righted herself. She held on.\n\nHe made a tight circle with poise and sunfished elegantly, attentive of the human grasping the rope around his girth. Slowly, confusion overwhelmed her fear as she tried to understand the artful display of etiolated vigor, the anemic bucks, the feeble turns. To the roaring crowd, he was a virile beast. Yet, the quiet human knew his pantomime. \n\nAfter eight seconds, Ferdinand stopped and dropped low to the ground to allow his rider to dismount, which she did quickly with an artless leap. She was still shaking, Ferdinand saw as he stormed off into his chute, but her eyes followed him. And she spoke, in the incomprehensible babble of the humans that was drowned out by the thunder of the crowd. \n\nYet, Ferdinand could read her face. It was a skill he developed as watched the humans posture and preen, like a rooster before the hens, or when he watched them separate the herd into those that would remain and those that would be consigned to the endless void. What he saw was not a common emotion he had seen humans express. It was a rare one they reserved for each other, and never the animals in their case. In this case, she gave it to him. \n\nHer eyes spoke gratitude. \n\n~\n\nThey had called him the Behemoth. He was legend unto himself, something her father talked about ‘round the dinner table ever since the young bull took to the arena when Mia and her sisters were small. Dad had tried to ride him more than once, but he was always thrown before the eight seconds were up, not that there was much shame in that. There were few that could claim to have ridden the Behemoth, and those that had were by the skin of their teeth. \n\nDad told stories of the Behemoth like other fathers told fairytales. There were not castles of magic, but rodeos and hard work. Instead of valiant princes with swords, there were gritty cowboys with spurs, gathering up to defeat the terrible villain. \n\nDad always said that in the next ride, he would make it. He said he would conquer the Behemoth, if it were the last thing he did. That is, before he got cancer. \n\nMia always assumed Dad’s headaches were the result of being kick upside the head one too many times by all manner of God’s creatures, but apparently a glioblastoma works much the same way. Dad was gone before the heifers were calved in spring.\n\nWhen Mia had taken to the Behemoth’s back, she wasn’t planning on much. She had half a thought to go out the way as her father always claimed he wanted to, doing what he loved with a swift kick to the head. Yet, she didn’t, and in those eight second, she could have sworn Dad was with her, taming the bull like he had once tamed the wild woman who would be Mia’s mother before she re-grew her wings and flew off again.\n\nYet now, leaning against the fence underneath an unending Texas sky and watching her herd chew the fresh cud of spring, Mia had another theory.\n\nThe Behemoth had not been cheap to purchase. She had to ask her sister, Clementine, for help, which was something she was loath to do as the computer programmer could never really understand her insistence on keeping the floundering family farm afloat in the first place. Yet, it was something she knew she had to do, as deeply in her bones as she knew Dad was the best father a girl could ever hope for.\n\nThe Behemoth looked up at her as grazed across the field. The soft, green blades of spring hung from his lips, as bright as emeralds. Perhaps Mia had been spending more time around animals than what was safe for a human, but she swore she read something in clear, dark eyes that regarded with careful intelligence.\n\nHis eyes spoke gratitude. \n\nEdit: I just read the second part of the prompt of also describing a hero that becomes a villain, which I didn't do. Sorry! I got too excited with thinking about a \"villain\" who is redeemed instead. " ]	8
	[WP] You make it to heaven after a long but average life as a white-collar shmuck. God then reveals which career path you SHOULD have taken, to peak as an individual and achieve maximum success. Your immediate reaction is uncontrollable laughter	[ "It wasn’t what I’d imagined. For sure. For certain. \nNo floor made of clouds and harps twinging perfect pitch notes. No crowds of the passed on living circulating through God’s garden of eternity. No pearly gates, no anxiety of waiting to see if you’d be in, and from what I can tell: no hell. \n\nMerely space. \n\nJust a vast chasm inhabited by a milky ethereal light that extended not as far as the eye could see, but as far as the mind could think. Sense was useless in this realm. Popcorn’s smell and the taste of bacon held no merit in the absence of life and the presence of eternity. Off in the silence of the translucent blank an opaque blob of a thought appeared, yet only upon my realizing it. The more my recognition increased the greater my perceived understanding of the blob increased. It obscured the rest of my thoughts, the cares and concerns that once were the forefront of my busy life, and became the primary focus of my attention. \n\nHello. Yes it’s telepathy. Yes I’m god. An engine for earth’s time relevance mechanism. Yes that’s all. Yes I created everything. No I’m not the only one, and neither are you. You’re here because are an inefficient functioning piece of the mechanism as a whole. Yes you are all pieces of the mechanism. \n\nTo that point our conversation made point. Tragically empty, but it made sense. All but the point about inefficiency. How could I be ineffcient? I had graduated high school at 15, bachelor’s at 18, mba at 20, CEO at 24, started 4 successful philanthropies that all lived past me, my business ventures were all successful, married my high school sweetheart whom I loved dearly, had 3 kids, sent them all on to school and taught them values. What did I do wrong? I prayed when I stole that Oh! Henry bar in 5th grade.\n\nNo, that’s not it. You did well disobeying your intuition. Yet, deep in your gut you knew that you were incomplete, that you failed to do something. No it has nothing to do with your business projects or philanthropic ventures, much less your wife or kids, they’re on track. You are now remembering a stay you had in a hotel when you were 19. You were alone on a 3 day trip in Jacksonville, observing a successful philanthropy when you were approached by a lonely man looking for a friend. You were polite, you were kind to him and listened to him explain his cynical world view, he offered you into his room for a drink. You denied because you thought yourself principled. \n\nSo what could I have done better, I didn’t agree with drinking, I didn’t feel as though that was something that would be productive to myself or to him. I listened to his complaints about whatever, his wife or whatever it was, that he was talking about. What could I have done better than that? I did my job, I did what I was in that moment to do and went on my way. \n\nNo, your purpose was to have a drink with him. Your sole reason for existence was that moment alone and nothing more. I could have utilized your function multiple times over after that; however, you decided that your function was not your function and decided to create your own. For that…\n\nWait. My function as a living breathing beautiful human being was to have a drink with someone? HA! That’s it? You must be kidding! What influence could I ever have having a glass of scotch with some run down bum at a hotel in Jacksonville? HA! This must be some sort of test, I’m not buying it man, I effected millions with the good work I did and you boil my whole life down to some ragged guy I denied a drink with when I was 19?! HA! You, sir, are the joke in all this; you can’t see what I did, how many people I positively influenced. \n\nYou don’t see how many people you’ve harmed. \n\nWhat do you mean? I never harmed anyone, at least intentionally. I was as close to perfect as I could make myself. \n\nThe ripples are never seen by the rock that makes them.\n\nGreat analogy einstein. Speaking of, where is einstein? \n\nHell. You’ll see him soon enough. \n\nWhat?! Why?!\n\nThe man that you encountered that day was the finished product of a long line of testing. One that started with my son and included some humans you may know like Martin Luther King Jr, Moses, and Karl Marx. \n\nKarl Marx? Is he related to Jesus or something? \n\nYou’re all related to Jesus in some boiled down philosophical way, Karl was a later model of the drive function. My son was a prototype, something to get humans on the right track. As I was saying, the man you met, Yianni Schocoulous, was my final version of that drive function. Perfectly placed in your time drive to redirect the course of all of human existence. His function was to start this machine you know as existence so that the universe could continue running. \n\nOk, so what does my drink have to do with that? \n\nYianni had some bugs. Addiction, depression, you know, side effects of a greater understanding. The were necessary, but easily overcome, obstacles in his life that were supposed to make him stronger and capable of delivering his message to the world. \n\nWhat was that message? \nHe was going to be a suicide bomber. \n\nWhat?! I stopped a suicide bomber and you’re mad about it? You ungrateful… \n\nWait. It’s more the importance of what he was intended to bomb that makes it clear. He was going to bomb the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. \n\nThe place where Jesus was resurrected? \n\nYes.\n\nWhat?! I’m so lost… How… Why? Why would you want me to NOT stop the Holy Sepulchre bomber? That’s like.. Your thing man, that’s your place. \n\nNo. It’s not. This is my place. This is my realm. Your silly monuments to me mean, well not nothing, but they don’t have that much a significance to me. It’s a nice gesture, but unnecessary. Humans have been fighting over the lands surrounding the church and the church itself for years and years and I finally had the perfect drive function that would have ended the dispute and had your kind performing at greater efficiency once again. When you refused the drink, the suicide bomber killed himself. His depression drawback grew too large for his function and he took his own life before reaching the destination he was supposed to. \n\nSo… Just make another? \n\nTime. Human, you don’t understand this concept. There is a subtle nuance to each of your existences. You’ve all been placed at an exact moment to affect one another, be it positively or negatively, and continue this planet's existence among the other cosmic engines. Because of you, I have to create an entire new planet that is devoid of these silly errors. Your refusal to provide a fellow human with care and compassion in his greatest time of need is what ended my best and brightest project and possibly my universe as a whole. \n\n…\n\nYou all have a purpose. You may never know until it is too late. It is these functions, that may seem so mundane, that keep this world going. Now, you are damned to hell. Now earth is left to its own devices, destined to rot. ", "Standing inside the pearly gates, I couldn't help but break into uncontrollable laughter. The angels with their trumpets, the Lord in his throne, and the blessed in their ranks were stunned by my righteous outburst of mirth. Why? Well, let me take you back about ten minutes in time. \n\n\"Welcome to Heaven, son of Adam\" The loud but gentle voice called. \"Though it was long and uneventful, your time in the mortal world has passed.\"\n\nRegaining consciousness, I realized that I was laying on the ground. Looking up, I saw that there was a being of almost pure light wrapped in clouds sitting in a massive throne not to far from me. As a looked upon it, trumpets rang out around me and a chorus if the angels really made everything much more bizzare. Managing to sit up, I noticed that I was no longer a wasting away 97 year old man. While it was nice to be young again, I was wondering why the hell I had breasts. Never one to beat around the bush, I figured the direct approach was best. \n\n\"Uh, hey Yaweh; why am I a chick? Last I checked before I died, I was definitely a man.\"\n\nSeeing my puzzled nature, the being of light (who I can only assume was God) spoke forth. \"Child, you are represented here as the most bare and successful part of yourself. While in your life you may have ended up as an old man, here in Heaven you get to be the ideal you in all your possibilities\"\n\n\"Uh, if this is me if I could have been the most successful, then how does it beat my actual life? I mean, I was the CEO of the single most powerful corporation on Earth. I had more money than some nations, enough power to make my dreams reality, and a loving family. How could I have topped that?\" \n\nPausing for a second, the Head Honcho of Heaven hauled out a handy history of humanity and flipped through it. I managed to catch a view of him checking the index for my name, then turning to the correct page in the massive tome. \n\n\"Ah, yes. So according to your life possibility flowchart, your most successful option would have been to go through with the breast enlargement surgery your friends bet you to get while all of you were drunk in Tiajuana.\" \n\nwat. \n\nDumbstruck, I just sat there in silence while the Grand Mediator of Fate flipped furiously from flowchart to flowchart comparing my could-have-beens. \n\n\"Ehhhh, yep. That was the best option. You see, getting that surgery would have then led you down a path where you would have ended up marrying the then-alternative CEO of your MegaCorp: Steve. Then you would end up living an even more fulfilling life, with all the same perks, but without any of the work.\"\n\nJust as he finished up, I saw another form materializing on the ground near me. Speaking of the devil (figuratively of course; I mean, this is Heaven after all) my old friend and the COO of MegaCorp materialized on the ground next to me. As he regained consciousness, he noticed that I was standing next to him and staring at him.\n\n\"Oh, hey Carl. Nice tits\".\n\nThat's when I lost it. " ]	2
	[WP] Just include the sentence: "There's too many of them."	[ "I can't believe that I spent 40K to go to New York for this shit!\n\nAglio de Olio, 3 batches\n\nSpaghetti and Meatballs, Brooklyn Style, 2 orders.\n\nMozzarella and Tomatoes, 3 orders.\n\nSquid ink linguini, 3 orders.\n\nRatatouille, 3 orders\n\nPotato Dauphinoise that cuts under 1000 calories, 3 orders\n\nMargherita pizza exactly as how the Queen of Sicily liked it, 5 orders\n\nGarlic Parmesan Wings that uses imported Parmesano-Reggiano, 6 orders\n\nSpaghetti Carbonara with eggs specifically at 15.31459759 degrees Celsius, 7 orders\n\nWild Canadian Mushroom Risotto boiled with pots made from a specific steel in Pennsylvania, 8! orders\n\nPumpkin Gnocchi as prescribed by Gennaro Contaldo, 9!^8 orders\n\nSardine Parmagiana with world certified exquisite sardines, 10^7! orders\n\nSalmon Tagiatelle with 1902 Bari Olive Oil touched by the immortal man from The Matrix, 10!^84 orders.\n\n\"Why am I the only person working at this cafe? Where are the rest of the fucking cooks?!\"\n\nSuddenly an intercom voice rang out: \"Lasagna, 1 order.\"\n\nI can't do this shit anymore! There's too many of them!\n\n\"I quit!\"", "It was an unusual and unexpected call. Not much was explained except the fact that it was \"an emergency\" and \"pain\". A lot of pain. Unbearable. The receptionist's hair crew on end, she could hear the anguish in the tone of the person's voice. As she had done for the past seven years, \"please hold while I look for an opening\" although without the caller knowing, she moved more frantically than usual. \n\nNo openings. Not today. Completely booked. \"I'll speak with Dr. Korris to see if we can fit you in.\" \n\nHe was prompt, punctual, and never liked to miss his 6pm airing of the BBC hit \"My Family\" and he most CERTAINLY didn't like doing overtime. But the receptionist, Ms Stevens, had insisted--strongly. \n\n\"We'll be able to get you in after the last appointment. Please come in by 4:50.\" She hung up quickly, forgetting to get the name.\n\nThe patient, too, was prompt and punctual. The door opened, the bells jingled, and heavy footsteps set into the lobby at 4:50pm sharp. Ms Stevens turned her head and observed the person that had to be who made the unexpected call earlier that day. The patient's gender was ambiguous. It stood taller than what had to be two meters, as its head ducked underneath the top of the door frame to get in. Long, straight, auburn hair rested just above its droopy dark eyes. Pale skin and visible cheekbones and an inhumanly flat nose. Walking with a peculiar gait, seemingly in a non-rhythmic pattern. As the patient approached, Ms Stevens smelled a foul smell but she kept her composure as with any other patient.\n\nThe patient arrived at the counter. It took a few seconds for Ms Stevens to notice that she felt cold. \"You must be the person from earlier today who called in an emergency.\" It nods. \"Dr. Korris will be with you shortly. Please, take these papers and fill them out. And, do you have your insurance card with you?\" It shakes its head. \"I see. Tell me your name, I'm sorry I didn't get it over the phone.\" \n\nThe patient whips its hand into its jacket's inside left chest pocket and takes out a white card, about the size of a business card. There is already writing on it, in an elegant but archaic looking cursive. It almost looks printed from a machine but it is most certainly done by hand. Gently handing it to Ms Stevens she reads to herself, Forgive me, I cannot talk for it is too painful.* She notices the details of its hand: cracked and dry skin, massive in size, lanky fingers with yellowish and untrimmed fingernails. The knuckles bulge larger than what seems proportionally normal.\n\n\"I understand. Just go ahead and sit down, fill out these papers and I'll call you in when Dr. Korris is ready.\" \n\nAs the patient walks away, it takes Ms Stevens another few seconds to realize that she felt just slightly warmer but not quite the same as before. She does her best to reject the notion that this was somehow related to the patient, but deep down she doesn't feel right. It was eerie. Her heart rate increases but she doesn't notice. But, the patient does. \n\nThe patient stops at the farthest chair from counter. It doesn't sit down. Its back kept towards the counter and head bent down looking at the paper fitted in the clipboard. Ms Stevens tries to hide the fact that she is watching by keeping it in the corner of her eye. It appears to be writing. \n\nDr. Korris finishes up with his last appointment of the day. That patient goes to Ms Stevens to process the payment and schedule another appointment. He asks, \"Is it just me, or does it seem a little colder in here than before?\" \n\nMs Stevens looks up and makes eye contact with him. Without moving her head, her eyes shift towards the patient in the corner, seemingly still writing with its back turned towards them. \"I haven't noticed.\"\n\nA few moments later, Dr. Korris gives the \"ok\" over the telecom. \n\n\"Excuse me, uh, Mr...\" its body jerks rigidly around to face Ms Stevens, \"Dr. Korris is ready. Please follow me. You may leave the papers on the counter here.\" The patient walks towards the counter and follows Ms Stevens in its non-rhythmic way, and carefully sets the paper and clipboard face down on the counter. \n\nDr. Korris sits next to the operating chair and impatiently waits as it's already nearing 5:15, and he still didn't know anything about this \"emergency.\" Ms Stevens shows in the patient as it once again ducks its head to get through the door. It took Dr. Korris a few seconds to realize that he suddenly felt cold. He focused more so on the patient's unexpected stature, physical features, and smell. He too kept his composure, as it was the professional thing to do. \n\n\"Please, lay down in the chair here.\" Dr. Korris gestures. Ms Stevens still there, watches, feeling a little uncomfortable to leave until she knows everything is fine. \"What seems to be the trouble today?\"\n\nThe patient reaches into the inside chest pocket of its jacket and pulls out another business-sized card with the same impeccable handwriting. \n\nForgive me, I cannot talk for it is too painful. But I can open my mouth when needed. There is an immense pain in every single one of my teeth.\n\nDr. Korris flips the card. \n\nThey feel as the pain of hunger as a well fed person might feel after no food for days on end.\n\nDr. Korris takes a few seconds to let that sink in. Such a strange allusion to pain. His jaw clenches a little as his eyebrows lower and tense. \"I see\" and he turns, \"Ms Stevens, you may return to your desk.\" Then back to the patient, \"Ok, we're just gonna lean you back.\" Dr. Korris starts to regret that he agreed to letting in one more appointment, even though it is an \"emergency.\" The patient follows the automated chair in leaning back.\n\n\"Ok now, let's see what seems to be the problem.\" The patient doesn't get the hint, \"...open up.\" Dr. Korris involuntarily shivers on the sight of the patient's mouth opening unnaturally wide. He gags a little bit from the smell but fights the urge to plug his nose. His breaths become shorter. He looks in and takes his dental tools and starts to go in towards the mouth. Apart from the unnatural gaping mouth and wretched smell, something else immediately seems off. It takes only a few moments to figure it out. \n\n\"Well, that's odd. There's too many of them. Too many teeth! I've never seen anything like it.\" Dr. Korris senses that the patient's dark eyes shift right towards him, and the corners of the patients lips seem to arc just slightly upwards, the onset of a smirk. \n\n\"DR KORRIS! PLEASE COME QUICK!\" Ms Stevens shouted from the receptionist counter. \n\n\"Excuse me, just a moment. I'll be right back.\" \n\nDr. Korris waits until he's a few seconds away from the operating room before he gasps for fresh air, relieved to be away for just moment. He considers just retiring right there and walking out. \n\n\"Look. LOOK! LOOK at his papers. All BLANK! Except one place, under 'previously taken medication.'\" She does her best to keep her voice low as a whisper but it sounds more of quiet shrieking. \n\nHe takes a look under previously taken medication. \n\nYour death.\n\n Dr. Korris's gut clenches and he starts to sweat. He looks towards that operating room, the hallway seems to grow longer and twists. His breaths rapidly increase.\n\n\"The police are on their way now and should be here soon. What should we do?\"\n\n\"I don't know. I DON'T KNOW! Oh my god. What should we do. MY GOD! WHAT TO DO? OK. Ok. Ok. ok... ok... \" His breathing slows and he exhales deeply to try and calm down. \"Ok. I'll go back in there, pretend everything is normal. That, that THAT THING might get suspicious and come here if we wait too long. I'll distract it until the police get here. We'll be ok. WE'LL BE OK.\" \n\n\"OK. Just be careful. Get out of there if you need to!\"\n\nDr. Korris takes one last breath before going back, inhaling deeply to expand his chest. He doesn't rush to get back, trying to buy as much time as possible. He stops short of saying \"I'm sorry about that...\" as he walks into the room only to see that the patient isn't in the chair anymore. He looks around. \n\nHE'S STANDING RIGHT THERE. Right there in the corner. Looking right at Dr. Korris with its mouth still open just as Dr. Korris left it, with the corners of its mouth curved up even more in a maniacal looking way, and its pupils focused intensely right at him. \n\nDr. Korris can't handle it, his voice starts to break and his acting wouldn't convince anyone of bravery. His eyes start to water and his voice trembles. \"Please. PLEASE... please. Sit down. And we can continue.\"\n\nIt starts to non-rhythmically walk toward Dr. Korris. \n\n\"PLEASE. PLEASE! SIT DOWN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SIT DOWN!\" \n\nIt picks up speed, only four steps away. It reaches its hand out towards Dr. Korris. As the doctor backs up, he picks up a Novocaine needle laying on an equipment tray.\n\nAt arms length! It grabs Dr. Korris by the forehead covering his eyes. Dr. Korris manages to stab it in the jugular and inject the Novocaine just as the patient snaps Dr. Korris's neck and clamps its mouth around his head.\n\nMs Stevens didn't see what happened but she heard the commotion and started screaming. Without another moment's notice, three strange and identical looking men barge in. They aren't the police. They aren't swat. They aren't anything Ms Stevens had seen before. They seemed just as tall as the patient, and seemed to run non-rhythmically as well. Each one was bearded and wore a pair of dark aviator glasses and their noses protruded unlike any other she has met. \n\n\"Forgive us, but you must leave now. We'll take it from here.\" The voice was deep and sounded filtered through a machine to hide the identity of the speaker.\n\nMs Stevens rushed out of the office in shock. She never returned to work again. Never saw Dr. Korris again. She began to stay inside, and every month she found a sizable amount of money in her mailbox with a letter about the size of a business card ALWAYS written in elegant but archaic looking cursive.\n \nKeep quiet. Or, else.", "Hello, I won't bore you all with the introductions, you all know who I am anyways.\n\nI'm just here to talk to you again, to perhaps right the emotions I feel, perhaps this conversation will give me a compass, to guide me towards the goals I know you all have for me; Then again maybe I am here to reminisce over the past. This time I'll give you more time to get a word in edgewise. Silly of me, to talk only of myself I know. Selfish even. What am I to do when my mind gets this way, and I know you all don't mind listening anyways; I've always appreciated that about my family, and I am proud to be able to say that about you all.\n\nAnyway, I figured we could talk about some of my beliefs. No, I've not prayed or so much as spoke to a priest in my life. However I've still always rolled around ideas that I know to not be true, but hoped for.\n\nI'll give you all an example.\n\nI never truly grasped on to the idea of karma, that was a bit too far fetched for me, but a few years ago I thought about it again.\n\nPerhaps, it could be far more simple than this, it could be that in the end, when we all go to the eternity we put our faith in, those that led a good life simply had as many good days as bad; That there was a balance not controlled by any concept, but by simple existence. A homeostasis could exist in emotion just as well as in the realm of physical being.\n\nThe real wealth in life could come from a lifetime of good memories that could stave off the bad ones. Certainly not the pinnacle of ambitious human beliefs, and far from greedy on my behalf. \n\nI try to live such that my company kept could hardly produce a truly terrible quality about me. I try to live and accept my regrets and learn from them.\nI avoid lamenting on what could have been, and to not hang my head in shame.\n\nIf, though I was to flip a balanced coin I could get heads or tails. Of course you all know that the next flip is not affected by the outcome of the first. I adamantly held on to this belief that eventually the bad would balance with good. I had unshakable naivety in this idea. Not Karma, but close.\n\nI write to you all now. To those unfairly taken from me too early. I feel cheated. Swindled out of a million smiles I'll never see, at thousands of moments that will never come to pass. Now all I am left with are a handful of moments. A handful of good, and even in those your faces have already begun to fade.\n\nI feel as though my soul bears the weight of the sun, and yet I do not receive any of its light. \n\nEvery day is a winter, a burning chill exists that spreads from my fingers and toes and ears. You find a corner and pull your knees up to your chest and try to hold the heat, while you call for help from all the people passing you by, but the words from your mouth freeze and fall to the earth; All the while a numbing loss of sensation creeps in and relentlessly you lose feeling bit-by-bit.\n\nThe depression doesn't steal good days from you, but the bad days, well..\n\nThere are too many of them.", "\"There's to many of them!\" Crystal yelled. \n\nGemini glanced out through the glass pane of the facility and at the muddy plain in front of them. An army of black aliens charged toward them, each one at least three times the size of a human. The one at the front, the leader, whipped it's tail Back and forth and even at this distance he caught a glimpse of its sharp fangs as it charged with mouth hanging open. \n\n\"Crystal open the hatch,\" Gemini said. \n\n\"But Ge-\"\n\nFrowning, he shot a look at her, \"No buts! I'm in charge for a reason. Now do it!\" \n\nThe roof above opened and Gemini was lifted up on a metal panel. Looking at the army from the roof he decided then, he'd see this through. \n\nGodshard flashed as it slid from it's sheathe. \n\nGemini leaped forward and ran to meet the charging aliens. He looked for a weakness in their ranks, some kind of advantage. \n\nHe froze - that was it. \n\nFlinging Godshard toward the sky. A bright ring of yellow erupted from it sending a wave of energy cascading out in a circle. \n\nGemini moved his hands, following the incantation of his people. The ground beneath him began shaking. He punched hard at the soil, as his fist smashed the ground, cracks traveled in the dirt toward the army. \n\nThe ground crumbled and aliens fell as it gave way beneath their feet. Dust covered the area ahead, Godshard landed next to his fist with a clang. \n\nWhen the dust settled all that remained was the Alien who had been leading the army. It hissed at Gemini. Picking up Godshard he stood ready in a battle stance. \n\n\"We came seeking your help human. Our territory has been attacked by invaders from Venus.\" He heard the voice in his mind. \n\nGemini gulped. \"But that's impossible.\" \n\nHe looked passed the collapsed domain which was now a cliff. In the distance he could see the burning remains of a village and the attacking ships that surrounded it. \n\nHe locked eyes with the alien. For the first time, speechless. \n", "As James sunk into eternal sleep, he rejoiced... He always wondered what is was like to die, warm... Nice... Like a nice soak in a hot tub... Wait. That is blood? Blood sure is warm he thought, but now I am cold... I should rest. A faint smile plastered James's face as he sunk deeper and deeper into his lukewarm rest. I thought getting stabbed would hurt more, James thought. I can't remember pain anymore, what's that? Oh, everythings going quiet, am I losing my hearing now? Now my vision, one black dot after the other... Heh... Damn pirates.\n\n\"There's too many of them!!\" Captain Morgan shouted, as he fired his last shot. \n\nMorgan noticed James slouched down, his hand grasping the knife in his chest, pale as a shaved cat. \n\n\"Damn\" Morgan muttered as he was surrounded by Pirates. \n\n(ps sorry for bad writing, this is my first time ever writing a story in this post... I know I suck :( Thanks for reading.)" ]	5
	[WP] There is a species that is equal to humans in intellect and physical capability, and has always lived on the planet with us. Write about the culture, shared history and how the world looks because of these creatures.	[ "The humans that we know and love always have had an ego issues. In fact, they continue to have such an ego that it doesn't befit this planet to merely contain it's ego. The human's must expand their domain to the outer rims of the planets, soaring into the sky, burrowing down underneath the oceans, soaring rockets into space! Such wondrous creatures.\n\n\nAlas, we are no such creatures. We humbling beg that we be left alone, to our own devices, if you would be so kind. I do believe that while progress can come in many ways, we will always remain so very consistent. We are obstinate as such. \n\n\nI doubt that you will see many of us, or any of us at all! We do not seek to harm, maim or disturb the peace of the humans, merely gaze into what makes them tick. We shared many a drink when the Pyramids were erected, when the Chinese fought off those pesky horse riders. We were there when the Columbus got lost and found what the humans call north america!\n\n\nThough, we might have exaggerated on being there in the flesh. We have very good eyesight, and it's not easy to climb down a cloud. Have you ever tried? Like training a dragon to swing, it's just impossible! We watch from up here, while the humans grow ever so big. We are a simple kind, living among the clouds, small as ants, but strong as ever. We only seek to exist, to drink the dew of the cloud and to observe the universe. \n\n\nBut, if you were so kind, please shut off your lights at night? It's very unbecoming a planetary power!", "War. War is compulsory for us human beings, isn't it. The slaughter, the disasters, the carnage of its passing seems a cycle embedded deep within us. Indeed it is rather frustrating to see us fall so low, to fund us so compelled to make war. \nI am not a common men. Indeed I am one of the few with thoughts of this sort. Others frown when they hear my words, as if I was pestering fly, making a nuisance of myself. \nThey didn't want to hear of how the Retai had intellect as well, of there deep culture and of there humanity. Yes humanity. Oh I know full well that they are not humans, but truly they seem like distant cousins. Oh the information ministry would have us believe that they are brutes in humanoid form, that they are as stupid as mules but I don't believe a single word of that mass of vulkshit. Let him talk and snarl our righteous Poleka, he may have the blessing of the majority, but not all of us have so clouded a mind.\nWell I have reasons to maintain such beliefs of course and in truth only a bare handful have ever had the experience I had, for I live amongst them.\n\nRetai are complex to describe. Tall and strong limbed they are, with skin of a reddish hue, covered with a dark red webbing. They have big eyes, evolved to see with clarity in the darkness of there dwellings under the roots of the trees. There technology is... different, alive so to speak. They are masters of bio-mechanics and there systems are inspiring. And yet they have no discipline, indeed we humans, woefully quarrelsome as we are, are still far more united then could ever be.\n\n-----\n\nIf this gets any attention I might push forward some more....", "The blades of the helicopter cut through the cool air above, the deafening drone of the engine pounding in the back of Noel’s head. He fiddled with the butt of his rifle, carving silver shapes into the black paint with a pocketknife. There were six other men bumping shoulders in the back of chopper. The doors were open and the landscape below was no more than an oil slick, drifting by under the cover of night. The early morning watercolour sky was spread to thinly over the canvas, leaving it grey and discoloured with the first signs of the sunrise leaking up from horizon.\n\n‘Are we clear?’ One of the men yelled, his voice torn from his lips by the wind.\n\n‘Drop zone in 5,’ A reply came over the speakers.\n\nNoel pulled a leather notebook from his pack, the cover scarred with age. He flicked through the pages, the inky words blurring together, before landing on an empty page.\n\nThe pen scratched against the paper.\n\n11 December, 2042\n\nChristmas is coming early. \n\nIt has been too long since I have written. I am about to begin my second excursion of the Deep North, it is the furthest any human has ventured for hundreds (maybe thousands) of years.\n\nLast time I was the only one to return from my squadron, this time I don’t plan too. \n\nI once believed the reason between the divide of Humans and Bears was because WE were the superior race. That WE won the Great Wars of Divide, that WE were more advanced.\n\nI was mistaken.\n\nWe built, consumed and spread across the land like a plague, thinking that we were working towards something bigger, better, stronger.\n\nWe needed more and more and more.\n\nAnd now the sky in the south is turning dark with soot, the trees bleed ash and our lungs fill with tar.\n\nThey tuned into the beating core of life, of nature. While we cut down trees, they planted them. While we drained our rivers and lakes, they took only what they needed. And while we harvested and extracted, they nurtured and loved.\n\nAnd now we’ve used up what is ours, we are coming for theirs.\n\nThey must be warned before…\n\n‘You… you’ve been here before right?’ the man beside him elbowed Noel in the side.\n\n‘Not even I’ve been this far North,’ Noel mumbled, closing the book.\n\n‘I hear they look like big ol’ dogs, like the ones we used to have back in the day, covered in fur with paws n’ shit, but they stand up. Wonder if they’ve got any of these bad boys though.’ He lifted up his rifle, grinning a toothy smile.\n\nYou have no idea. Noel thought as he unclipped himself and shouldered his parachute. The sun bleeding life into the jungle below.\n" ]	3
	[WP] Drunk stories that are unfortunately true.	[ "I guess this one would work. I was fucked up when I wrote it, however it is a true story. Forgot I even wrote it til a couple hours ago. Nothing too special though:\n\nabove me from the branches of a tree hangs an array of bottles attached to strings, bottles previously filled with heartfelt laughter and summer night joyrides. i walk past you and i give you a sad smile, cause now that the bottles are empty we forgot how good it felt to be drunk. well you forgot at least. me, i’m still sitting in the snow outside the liquor store playing “hey mister!” i know that you know that i know that you know. but i guess you’ve been blessed to wake up without a hangover and to be fucking honest i wish i could have been blessed too.\n\ni woke up and you weren’t there, my head was throbbing with memories of sharing a case of rolling rock on the job leading to giggles in the sheets and the rare sight of you smoking my newports. my stomach turned when i realized my current state of sobriety and the shape of your body carved into my linens. from the millions of reasons that could have motivated you to leave, i’ve narrowed it down to one: as my addiction to drugs grew obvious to everyone else we worked with, they also started to see my addiction to you. that was unacceptable so you hit fast forward in life, skipping straight from exhilaration to pity.\n\nmaybe i’m not the kind of crazy that you need, the kind that etches a smile into eternal existence or a certain laugh into an ocean of literature. can’t help but to make you into art, even from this skewed perspective. and i’d like to think we had a lot, but nostalgia is always biased. save your sorrows as it’s not you who’s cursed with the tendency to make everything a movie. even if it dragged on with all my bitching, you can’t deny we made a good plot. the end is quick and near. there is no plot twist as it seems, no happily ever after. just a picture of me under the bottle tree, fading to black. almost.\n\nthen it’s 3 am, i’ve yet to try to sleep. my phone vibrates. i know it’s you. i deleted your contact from my phone but i can’t delete your number from my mind. it’s a message.\n\n“wyd?”\n\nif i could hate you i would.\n", "The door slid open silently. That glass door was a marvel of the glass door section at Home Depot. I bought it solely on the principle that it said \"COMPLETELY SILENT\". I guess that is why I never heard him until he was all up on me like smug on a vegan.\n\nEven through the drunken haze, I felt his breath on my neck and barely turned before he had his arm around my neck in a crude headlock. His arms were thin, but strong and I could not break free. We fell to the floor and struggled. I yelled to stop, but he did not. That's when my drunk brain had an idea that my sober brain would have never considered. I ceased struggling and said \"Stop... You are going to give me an erection.\" The headlock loosened and he jumped away from me. I looked up into disgusted eyes as he stared at me briefly then bolted for the door.\n\nI pursued him out the door and into the middle of the street screaming \"ERECTION, ERECTION, EEEEEEEERECTIOOOOON!\" \n\n\"You're sick!\", he shouted, not daring to stop and look back as he sprinted down the street and into the night.\n\nAnd that is how vodka saved my life.\n" ]	2
	[WP] Fiction is a city, and the districts are genres/writing styles.	[ "I was just a lowly technician born in the sci-fi district. Luckily, my neighborhood was action sci-fi. I had a friend who lived in the dystopian neighborhood, but one night he disappeared. They tend to do that. The sci-fi district was interesting throughout my childhood and most of my adolescence. Every day I could find a new invention or explore a new world without ever leaving my district.\n\nBut eventually, I grew weary. I started to spot the similarities between neighborhoods and could never get an honest answer on how any of these inventions worked, so I began a trek throughout the different districts.\n\nFirst, I explored the fantasy district. Its many nature areas were a nice change from my district's cold concrete, bizarre steel monstrosities, and ice planets. I soon discovered that this district simply felt like a mirror image of my own district with sci-fi's inventions simply swapped for \"magic\" and sci-fi's aliens swapped for difference races. I am fairly certain there was even a neighborhood in both districts by the name \"Warhammer\" and I even think the \"Star Wars\" neighborhood connected the two.", "I turned up the collar on my thick brown trench coat, wrapped the belt around my waist and clasped it tight. Stepping out into the light drizzle, I pulled the brim of my fedora down a little and began trudging up the cold, dark street.\n\nA Jane had just come into my office, a beautiful blonde with crimson lipstick and a flower print sun dress. Under the off-yellow light of the bare bulb that hung from a chain in the office's lobby, I could see that her eyeliner was starting to run. Tears streaking down her porcelain face, creating little rivers of grey-black which stood out starkly.\n\n\"You have to help me. I came all the way from the Romance district to find a gumshoe who could take my case.\" She cried out, knuckling the tears from the corners of her eyes.\n\n\"Slow down, sweetheart. It's almost midnight. I was just about to close up shop.\" I said, leaning against the cracked wooden door jamb outside of my office.\n\n\"Please, sir. It's always almost midnight down here in Noir. I just need someone's help!\" She was completely distraught. I looked into those big doe eyes and knew that I wouldn't be getting into bed on time tonight.\n\nThe rain pattered gently onto the grey-washed sidewalk as my polished leather shoes pounded the pavement. All the roads down here in Noir were uphill, and the rain never seemed to stop. The Jane, whose name had actually turned out to be Nancy, told me that her gentleman caller had gotten mixed up with some shifty characters from Mystery. Something about borrowing money for their wedding from the wrong mob boss. Now she was worried they'd taken him and dropped him off in Horror as punishment for a late payment.\n\nShe was taken, and I was taken with her. Story of my life. Though an ice cold glass of dark beer or a steaming mug of darker coffee sounded like just the ticket for my old bones, I was on the case. Flat-foots like me might be a dime a dozen in Noir, but she'd picked me. Life in Fiction was unbelievable at times." ]	2
	[WP] "You could have been something! You could have changed the world, but you decide to be a fucking piece of broccoli!"	[ "She peered over the edge of the sterile, white linen, eyes weighed down by bags so deep and so dark they may as well have held their own separate bodies covered by their own sterile, white linen. \n\n\"So you're an angel?\" she rasped in his direction, unfazed by the way he had turned the bleak, brick room that had caged her into a scape of nothingness with a mere wave of his hand.\n\n\"I could be, if that's what you wish to believe,\" he shrugged. \"I get that question so often I've come to embrace the possibility.\"\n\n\"Meaning that's not what you'd call yourself,\" she remarked, lowering the sheets of her bed even further to expose her chin but still choosing to stare at the blank space that had once been a ceiling. She would not look him in the eye. If he was the product of some miraculous dream, she would not risk jolting herself back into the arms of consciousness and its cruel subordinate--insomnia.\n\n\"I--No...\" He admitted reluctantly, \"but you're missing the point. It doesn't matter why I'm here, what I am, or who sent me. You've been given you the opportunity to bend reality to your will. If you truly dislike this world as it has been been created, I challenge you to morph it into something better. Right now, I could answer all your questions, but it seems rather pointless to do so when you consider that the fabric of truth is in your hands. Whatever I say, you could render false in an instant. I propose we skip the back-and-forth and get right to it.\"\n\n\"So if I want you to be an angel...?\"\n\n\"Then that is what I'll be--a component of whatever grand scheme you associate anglicism with. Anything you need to conceive in order for angels to become a truth and, subsequently, my identity, will be conceived as a byproduct, be that an afterlife, a god, multiple gods, what have you. Be warned that logical contradictions are therefore, extremely plausible to create.\"\n\n\"And if I ask you why I'm being given this opportunity, your answer won't matter because I control what is true?\"\n\n\"Precisely--Past, present, and future.\"\n\n\"And if I will world peace?\"\n\n\"The world would instantly exist in such a state. It depends on how you conceptualize it, though. It could exist as if no conflict of any kind has ever occurred in history, or simply as if no wars have ever occurred in history, or just that all current wars cease simultaneously and no new war will ever erupt.\"\n\n\"Interesting. And so I just tell you what I will?\"\n\n\"No. You just will it. As a matter of fact, you could be willing every word that comes out of my mouth right now. It's that easy.\"\n\n\"And you wouldn't know if I were?!\"\n\n\"No. I most definitely would. I'd just be powerless to resist.\"\n\n\"So what if I will you to have free will?\"\n\n\"Logical contradiction. I would most likely only have an illusion of free will.\"\n\n\"Okay.\"\n\nAnd so she looked at him for the first time. Instantaneously, she was overcome by the suspicion that he hadn't truly been physically present up until that point, however, his voice had always been male to her. And now that he was certainly present, standing across from her, he just-so-happened to exist in an image identical to that of a prince she distinctly remembered seeing as a child, in a storybook.\n\nShe smiled, laughed, and, as if reading her thoughts, the prince examined his clothing with a similarly amused grin.\n\n\"Not an angel, then.\" He mused. \n\nThough still seemingly pleased, she said nothing. Just turned her head back toward the non-ceiling and closed her eyes.\n\n\"May I ask why you keep willing that bed to stay here, even when nothing else exists?\"\n\n\"I'm trying to figure that out myself,\" she whispered. \"And none of the reasons I can think of are things I'd like to be true.\"\n\n\n...\n\n\nAnd though time did not exist, it felt like hours had passed before either of them dared to make the next sound. Her will not-to-will impressed him, and he remained impressed with her until she made her next choice.\n\n\"I--what?!\" He cried \"You could have been something! You could have changed the world, but you decide to be a fucking piece of broccoli!\"\n\nWait. Did he just say 'fucking'? He had never been able to swear before, and yet still, he was sure she had not willed it. \n\nHer resting place was gone, as was everything, save a scrawny, wilting stalk of green that sat against the empty-canvas non-floor near his golden-buckled boot. In his own head, he heard,\n\n\"Your 'something' was exactly what I was trying to avoid. No matter how the world changes, it will never be something I want. So instead, I want myself to be the one without a story, and you can be the one with voices in your head and the ability to choose.\"\n\n\"Oh god...You mean...Now I...And you can't change back...Oh my god...\"\n\nDespite her words, his head was all too quiet. Was this is a logical contradiction? He couldn't remember what sounds had used to fill it before. It was only in its absence that he was able to confirm the fact that there had once been more to hear.\n\nThe bleak world, with its bleak brick room and bleak truths began to fade back into reality around him.\n\n He panicked. \n\n\"WAIT, WHAT?! Please! before you go--Just...Just why broccoli?! Is that your idea of a joke? Something about being a literal vegetable?!\"\n\n\"Heh, I tried air first, but it turns out that something is easier to conceive than nothing.\"\n\nThe bed was empty before him, a clock ticked behind him, and he did not know whether to press himself between the white linens or to open the door off to his right and walk away.\n\nWhy didn't she want even that choice?", "Tom stares down at his mother, hopeful as always that she will behave. He always wished she would be less perfect, less smart and brave and outgoing- less overshadowing. He had grown up in her shadow, and had always resented her for it. But now, standing here, he wishes she would just get up and prove another scientist wrong, or win some award- anything with meaning. \n\nHe loves her, of course, she is his mother after all. It's just so frustrating for him; everything he wants her to be, she isn't. He has tried telling her this, but she just doesn't get it. He doesn't think she does anyway. She doesn't really say much anymore. He has no way of knowing if he's getting through to her, but he sits and talks anyway. Sometimes he'll bring a book and read to her, or let his dog lick her face. She doesn't react. \n\nToday, Tom stands over her just talking, saying whatever pops into his head. He gave up on her understanding him long ago, or at least that's what he tells himself. The truth is, every time he sees her he hopes for that old spark to come back, for her to sit up and answer him like she used to. She continues to lie there, staring up at the ceiling, the only movement of her body the steady up and down of her chest as she breathes. He's getting frustrated, as he always does, that she won't just answer him. She's so brilliant, there's no way she could have just... lost it. \n\nWithout even noticing, he's screaming, \"You could have been something! You could have changed the world, but you decide to be a fucking piece of broccoli!\" ", "Clarissa folded her arms and glared down at the green mass on her plate. She was one of the old gods, formed over and over across the timeline of the Universe. The broccoli remained unflinching on the plate. A mother seated at the table next to Clarissa's rose her eyebrows and slowly turned her son away from staring at the odd, twenty-something looking girl who was growling at her plate. Clarissa paid her no mind. \n\n\"It's been how many years?\" She hissed, a savage but quiet whisper, her teeth barred just a hand lengths distance from the defiant vegetable. \"Since you've been tumbling away your potential. Life after life?\" \n\nA bead of condensation dribbled off the green broccoli stem and onto the plate, mixing with the brownish sauce leftover from the meal. \n\n\"Well? Theo? Abnor? Kelto? What do I call you now? Or do Broccoli not have names? Is that what you want? To be nameless? Forgotten? It's irresponsible, especially now! You know what's at stake! It's half your doing anyway! You dragged me into this! Remember? And then you go off, you become a turtle to fester in the ocean for a hundred odd years. Then you become a gorilla, remember that? You threw shit at me!\" \n\nThe woman clamped her hands over her son's ears and tried to signal the waitress by shrugging her shoulders and nodding her head, a desperate attempt to get her check and flee the awkward scene. Yet deep down, somewhere, she knew gods were clashing. The goddess plucked the green god from the plate to address it even more directly. \n\n\"Whose side are you on? The others say you've gone crazy, but that's not it.\" \n\nA waitress approached, encouraged by a manager, and cleared her throat, \"Is there, uh, something-\"\n\n\"Do you mind, mortal?\" Clarissa growled, green, cat-like eyes staring her down, and away as she shuffled back off towards the kitchen. She addressed the Broccoli again, \"So?\" \n\nThe green, tree looking vegetable remained pinched between the dark colored nails, unwavering. \n\n\"Taunting me.\" She muttered, \"I suppose I should just eat you then. That's your new purpose? that's your new lot in this life? Fine.\" She opened her mouth and moved the Broccoli inside. It resided there quietly, defiantly, in the hot and humid air. \n\nShe closed her lips around her fingers. I'll do it! She seemed to say, her tongue threatening the Broccoli between her molars. The vegetable did not protest, did not beg for its life. She grew angry, turned her head and spat. \n\n\"Jesus!\" An old man shouted as the green, slimy vegetable hit him in the forehead. He scrambled back into his booth and swatted at the Broccoli and desperately rubbed the spit from his forehead. \n\nThe broccoli was a bit disheveled, smelled of morning breath and onions, but was otherwise unscathed. \n\n\"Ma'am.\" A heavy set man said, stepping confidently from the kitchen swinging doors. \"We have to ask you to leave.\" \n\n\"I'll eat you next.\" Clarissa warned, and little did anyone know, she meant it. She stomped over to the old man's booth and collected the Broccoli from the floor. She dropped a single gold coin on the table and stormed out of the Diner with the Broccoli, ever rebellious, clenched in her fist. \n\n(I've been reading American Gods the past few days, inspired me to write this absurd piece.) ", "\"See, this is why I like broccoli,\" Ethan explained, glancing at the vegetables sitting in his long forgotten bowl. It was surely cold by now, and Ethan hated eating cold vegetables, but he picked up a piece and ate it anyway to make some kind of point.\n\nHis father stared at him like a madman.\n\nEthan elaborated. \"No one expects anything from broccoli. They don't expect it to be delicious or anything - they know it probably sucks. So when it's good, it's a pleasant surprise! But when it's awful, well, that's just par for the course!\"\n\nRage slowly built up on his father's face, coloring his cheeks and deep red, then purple. The wrinkles on his forehead were deep, pulled into a violent V shape. Ethan wondered if he might actually explode.\n\n\"I sent you to university,\" his father began deceptively quiet, \"so that you could be something great, Ethan. But you decided to spend your time,\" and he was screaming now, and surely this man had no respect for the other people in Ethan's apartment building who could hear their entire fight, \"smoking pot and having sex?!?\"\n\nEthan threw his hands into the air. \"Heaven forbid I, a grown adult male, participate in any of that awful demon stuff like marijuana and sex!!\"\n\nWith a frustrated scream, Ethan's father put both hands on his chest and shoved him, hard. Ethan landed on the couch, wind temporarily knocked out of him, with eyes wide in shock.\n\n\"You could have been something!\" he raged, tugging on his own hair. \"You could have changed the world! But you decided to be a fucking piece of broccoli!\" He picked up the bowl and threw it against the wall, smashing it into a hundred little shards.\n\nA silence descended upon them, and Ethan grew stiff and cold in his seat. His father slowly lost his steam in the silence, and after he had seemed to deflate some, Ethan spoke.\n\nHis voice was cold and hard, with a decided finality to it. \"I'm not going to be, and I never will be who you want me to be, Mark.\" His father looked at him sharply at the use of his first name, but Ethan continued, \"I will be my own man. If you don't like it, leave.\"\n\nThe door slammed loudly when he left, and Ethan was left to pick up the pieces of his apartment. Chairs knocked over, tables overturned, and a bowl full of broccoli gone to waste.\n\nAnd Ethan felt cold, and empty, but he didn't have to be lonely. Because he wasn't like his father- so single-minded and determined to be successful that he forgot to ever live his life in the meantime. Ethan texted his friends to come over, because he had them, and they cared.\n\nThe best thing about being broccoli was that there was always a lot of other broccoli around to chill with." ]	4
	[WP] A man from Canada decides to break into the United States. Tell his daring tale.	[ "The border between Canada and the US was locked down completely. In a daring move President Obama decided to build a huge wall across the 49th parallel to show that Trump's not the only one that can keep illegals out.\n\nBut Steven needed to get to America, he lived the dangerous life of a maple syrup smuggler, delivering to private businesses who couldn't associate themselves with the poison that flowed out of Quebec and Ontario. Steven was based out of Vancouver and had contacts across British Columbia but ever since the closing of the 49th parallel he'd been unable to make his deliveries. To say his customers in Portland were mad is an understatement. \n\nAs the crates of syrup began to pile up in his garage Steven began receiving messages from the Portland mob. Ever since the wall went up syrup had been coming in as slow as molasses and the supply was viciously below the demand. As Steven realized the potential for a monopoly on the illegal trade of Maple Syrup plans began to formulate.\n\nAt 7:00pm the next week Steven took off on his Naden Big Laker loaded with crates of Maple Syrup onto the Fraser River. He planned to sail south along the Haro straight to land at Port Angeles on the northern coast of Washington where he would meet members of the Portland mob and sell the product.\n\nAs Steven passed the city of Victoria to his west and neared the oceanic border between the two countries he spotted a bright light coming towards him. he began to break out into a sweat as he worried that his contraband would be found. As the vehicle neared its speakers erupted \"Stop, you are piloting a Canadian made and licensed vessel into US waters, I repeat stop your vehicle.\" As Steven slowed the boat he wondered what the sentence was for Maple Syrup smugglers. The police craft came to a stop adjacent to Steven's boat and two officers boarded his Laker...\n\n\"That's a lot of fucking syrup\" \n\n\"Yeah\"\n\n\"The hell you doing with it?\"\n\n\"Makes a great coating for bait\"\n\n\"You fishing?\" \n\n\"Um\"\n\n\"Because I don't see no poles. Listen I think I know what your up to, there hasn't been any good syrup in Washington for months, you trying to resupply the states aren't you\" \n\n\"I need business and this is the only way to get it\"\n\n\"We'll let you through, for a price.\"\n\n\"Take three kilos, that's worth around seventy.\" \n\n\"Alright then, we'll let you go on your way, I think this could turn into a mutually beneficial partnership. Next time you come to the States ask for Rick at the Port Angeles police station.\"\n\n\"Will do officer\"...\n\nSteven arrived in Port Angeles at 9:00, waiting at the docks was a group of big men wearing brown suits. As soon as he landed they began unloading the crates, moving them into a large van. After the Laker was emptied one approached him handing him 13,000 Canadian dollars. Before they departed the man spoke.\n\n\"There's a lot of money in sticky business.\"\n\n\n", "\"Passport, please?\"\n\n\"Here you are.\"\n\n\"Thank you, sir. Destination?\"\n\n\"Billings. Going to Yellowstone Park.\"\n\n\"Uh huh.\"\n\n\"It's, uh, nice this time of year, I hear.\"\n\n\"Uh, huh. How long will you be staying in the United States?\"\n\n\"Just a week.\"\n\n\"Hotel?\"\n\n\"No no....camping. Overnight in Billings then on to the park.\"\n\n\"Mmm, hmm. Any fruits or vegetables in the car?\"\n\n\"Nope. Got some jerky. That OK?\"\n\n\"That's fine. Any drugs, alcohol, or firearms in the car?\"\n\n\"Uh, no.\"\n\n\"Uh, huh. All right, sir. Welcome to the United States. Enjoy your stay.\"\n\n\"Thanks. You have a nice day, too.\"" ]	2
10/10: Would be subjugated again.	[WP] The Royal Army has come to liberate previously owned land from "The Dark Forces" after a lengthy occupation. Instead of giving a hero's welcome, however, the civilians tell their liberators that they had been quite pleased on how they had been treated.	[ "\"Fear not citizens, we have come to free you from the Dark Forces!\"\n\n\"Seriously man? That's what you're calling them?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah. They're the bad guys. We're the good guys. It's fairly obvious.\"\n\n\"You realize that's hella racist right?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Just cause they're black doesn't make them the Dark Forces.\"\n\n\"Uhh...\"\n\n\"You could have just called them the Evil Empire, or Minions of Death, or the Ravaging Army Whose Ethnicity is Entirely Irrelevant to Their Moral Standing. Prettymuch anything would have been better.\"\n\n\"Well, we did consider the the Obsidian Battalion, or the Evening Scourge, or the Horde of Soot or... Ejército Negro... \n\nAw shit. We're the bad guys.\"\n\n", "\"Fear not villagers, you are safe now!\"\n\nA knight clad in a full suit of armor strode into the village square, and firmly planted the King's banner into the ground. Behind him several other soldiers ran up, and stood in formation before the stunned crowd. Seeing the confused looks before him, the knight spoke once more.\n\n\"I have come under the banner of his majesty, and have eradicated the forces of evil which have plagued these lands! The Dark Lord Yexel has been vanquished, and his holds over you all released! Welcome back to the kingdom citizens, after all these years!\"\n\nOne villager stood forward after a few moments, cautiously eyeing the soldiers around him before speaking.\n\n\"Does this mean things will be like they were before?\"\n\n\"Indeed citizen. What's the matter, you don't seem very pleased at your liberation?\"\n\n\"Well I'm certainly grateful for all the work you fellows put into things here, it just that I'm not sure it would be an improvement to go backwards, you know what I mean?\"\n\n\"What in the world are you talking about? Surely you don't insinuate that the rule our king is worse than that of the Dark Lord?\"\n\n\"Well er, I wouldn't put it that way, since it sounds quite rude to say it like that. It's just that, that Yexel bloke wasn't all that bad you know? Not to say our king is bad oh no no no, however, we did enjoy a few things we didn't have before.\"\n\n\"I would love to hear what propaganda they have forced you to endure.\"\n\n\"Well um, for one, the armies of darkness are mainly demons and the like, so we didn't have to worry about conscription or anything, and we've had some of the best security against bandits in ages.\"\n\n\"Does it bother you to lay down your life in the glorious name of our king?\" the knight asked, visibly getting more and more enraged.\n\n\"Oh um, of course not sir knight, it's just we'd feel more at ease stabbing our enemies and what have you, if we had the peace of mind that our families back home had a good life to lead right?\"\n\n\"How on earth could a conjurer of the demonic plane have improved your lives!?\"\n\n\"Now, you gotta hear me out first. The years before he took over this place we've been experiencing a shortage of teachers, partially due to that whole conscription thing I mentioned earlier. Yexel set up schools when he arrived, so our children may learn useful crafts for their future.\"\n\n\"Schools? They taught nothing but dark arts, necromancy and the like!\"\n\n\"Hey now, a living is a living.\"\n\n\"I've heard enough! Men, detain this person! Go about the village, gather up all sympathizers, bring them all back to the capital for questioning!\"\n\nAs the soldiers moved however, a flock of gargoyles descended upon them, as the ground below their feet cracked and rotting corpses climbed out. Dark bolts of magical energy shot through the air, adding to the confusion as the king's men fell one after another. When it was all over, only the knight remained standing, shaking at what he just witnessed. The man he was speaking to turned around towards the buildings behind him and shouted.\n\n\"Dammit kids, what did we tell you? No more dark magic before you've finished your chores! Now one of you come down here, this fellow needs his memory erased. The rest of you, back to your homes, nothing else to see here!\"\n\n~~~\n\n\"Your majesty, another unit has been lost, only their commander returned and he's far too incoherent for us to know what happened. The other troops are frightened, gossiping about those lands being cursed by Yexel. The unnatural fog that blankets the area isn't helping either, and it may be difficult to send more men.\"\n\n\"I see. Then that territory is useless now, withdraw and remaining troops. Nobody is to go there from this day forth, and may God have mercy on those poor villagers.\"" ]	2
	[WP] It is literally always right behind you, but sometimes, if you turn your head really fast, you think you get a glimpse of it in the corner of your eye.	[ "It happened because of a mini habit of mine, where I liked to do things in even numbers. If I spun myself silly in a circle, it wouldn't be over until I spun an equal number in return. I had to balance everything in even numbers, or it would nag at me like a heavy weight pulling on the back of my neck until I rectified it. \n\nIt started during phys ed, when the teacher made us turn three times before catching the ball. When I was done, I made a quick three-sixty twirl to make it even. I wasn't a ballerina so I didn't have the finesse or subtlety, and one of the girls merely raised an eyebrow as I returned to the benches.\n\n\"What?\" I asked her, trying to shrug off the uneasiness that her look gave me. \n\n\"Nothing,\" she said, keeping a weird mix of sincerity and amusement in her tone. It only made me feel even more self-conscious.\n\nI didn't encounter her again until the following week's class, where I felt her eyes on me as the teacher designated the number of laps we had to run around the field. I could've died when when the teacher made it five.\n\nIt was near the end of the fourth lap when I noticed her slowing down, pressing a hand against her side. \n\n\"Er, are you okay?\" I asked her, taking in deep breaths of my own.\n\n\"Cramp,\" she replied, when the teacher blew a whistle in our direction. \"Help me to the side?\"\n\n\"What's going on?\" The teacher asked, as he caught sight of us.\n\n\"I... feel kind of drowsy,\" she said, her eyes focusing and unfocusing, and she seemed to wobble a bit, causing both the teacher and I to reach out to hold her steady.\n\n\"You, take her to the nurse's office,\" he instructed, and I eagerly agreed.\n\n\"Wow, I thought you loved sports,\" I said to her, when we were out of earshot. \"That was some acting. Even I couldn't have switched stories like that midway.\" \n\n\"Oh, I do,\" she said, \"but five laps are three pairs short of one.\"\n\n\"What did you say?\" I stepped away from her.\n\n\"What, did you think it wouldn't be obvious?\" she asked, barking a short laugh. \"I've seen you do it too many times. You're so awkward about it too. And you make those kill-me-now expressions every time the teacher mentions an odd number. Tell me, is it just for physical activities or mental ones too? Are you the kind that gets crippled in a maths exam when the answer turns out to be odd?\"\n\nI just stared.\n\n\"Do you want to know why you can't stop it?\" she asked, leaning in closely as though the secrets of the world were only a few whispers away.\n\n\"It's not actually an even versus odd number situation, if you want to get technical about it,\" she continued anyway. \"It's all about pairs. Twos. Two peas in a pod, two halves of a whole. You...\" \n\nShe leaned in closer, grabbing me in a half-hug. \"... and your other you.\"\n\nI felt it more than I heard it, and it was like water coming up to my neck as something snapped my head back, pulling it down like an anchor giving in to gravity. I floundered in her grip, reaching over my shoulder to grasp at her hand, only to find it locked over--\n\n\"What is that?\" It felt wet. And it wasn't my head.\n\n\"I'd say, 'meet your other self', but most people try to kill themselves before they get to that stage.\" She gave me a smile that was almost mocking.\n\n\"Oh god, am I an alien?\" \n\nShe laughed. \"No, it's something that... some people have, and you have to have it to be able to see it.\"\n\n\"Then why can't I see yours?\" I asked, feeling her grip on it tighten as it pulled on the back of my head.\n\nHer grin was vulpine, wide and all-knowing.\n\n\"Because I ate it, silly. And I'm here to help you eat yours.\"", "I always think to myself that maybe I should clean up this apartment, but in the grand scheme of things nothing would change.\n\nI feel if I did the brown-black stained with God knows what floorboards would become more pronounced, and it would reveal more of the yellowing, peeling wallpaper that loses flakes every time the tenants next door have a domestic dispute.\n\nMaybe after I've come down from the five stolen fentanyl patches stuck to my skeletal frame I'll take out some old fast food bags, or the reams of scribblings that litter my abode, but the will to do absolutely anything has been sapped from me.\n\nIt wouldn't get rid of the cockroaches that scuttle fearlessly in the open, or the occasional rat that scurries to and from the piles of clutter, knowing I am too weak and unwilling to oppose its presence. \n\nIt wouldn't get rid of the shadow that lingers in the corner in my periphery, that darts away out of sight once I turn my head to it.\n\nI first noticed it after my first overdose. Once I unbuckled the belt on my arm and let the warmth take me it seemed to sit cross-legged in a corner that avoided the light from the street outside. I was aware of its presence but indifferent to it as I lay paralyzed on my filthy floor and let my eyes roll into the back of my head.\n\nThe second time was after my first relapse. 11 days clean, fucking pathetic. It stood in the kitchen doorway as I lay on my side on the couch staring at the floorboards as it languidly moved into the hallway out of view.\n\nI still chalked it up to the opiates being cut with something. But it started to become more apparent, more aggressive. It would never reveal itself completely, opting to stand menacingly just out of my field of view, but it was there. Eventually I never had any doubts that it was really there. \n\nIf I was shivering on my bug-ridden mattress, curled up on the floor or getting my hour's worth of sleep, it was there watching me. Some nights I could even swear I could hear it breathing.\n\nThe last time I had shuffled through the cold towards the rundown house standing by itself next to a parking lot for my next fix, it was there outside too. My vision was blinded by the wind and the snow but I saw it, I fucking saw it on the street and in the alleyways, I know I did.\n\nIt was mocking me as it followed me home and hid itself until I had prepared myself for my fix. I let the belt slip to the floor and I lay on my couch as the familiar dull sensation quickly washed over me, a stronger feeling than usual. As tears came over my face I could see it still standing in my periphery, I felt it was laughing at me but I could do nothing to stop its embrace as I slipped into unconsciousness.\n", "I feel it behind me. It’s like an odd little weight that never seems to go away - a constant sensation on the back of my neck that I just can't rid myself of. Even now, in the bright light of a summer morning, it's lurking back there. Following me. Watching me. Silent.\n\nA woman and her daughter approach, coming from the opposite direction down the sidewalk. The little girl points. She buries her face in the side of her mother’s jacket. She’s seen it. The mother grabs her daughter’s arm and lowers the accusatory finger. She smiles at me politely and nods as we pass each other, but she says nothing. \n\nI turn back. I catch a sudden glimpse of fluttering black. The little girl is staring at my back, even as her mother drags her away. I feel a sharp pinch, but I try my best to stifle my cry. I know that I shouldn't look for it. It belongs behind me, and I must remember that I am not to bother it.\n\nI turn the corner, onto my street - only a block or so from home. I hear a tiny clicking sound. I'm tempted to look back again, to check on it, but I've learned my lesson. I keep my head forward, ignoring its whispers, even as they grow louder and louder in my ear.\n\nI open my front door, and the chatter becomes a delighted shriek. It finally releases me and jets over my shoulder onto the living room carpet. A ruffled mess of feathers stares up at me with its beady black eyes. It scurries over and bites at the laces of my sneakers. “This damn bird,” I mutter." ]	3
	[WP] A man discovers that each time he wakes up, time goes slower and slower for him.	[ "This is my first prompt. Please don't hesitate to roast the fuck out of me and ask clarifying questions so that I can improve my writing style. Thank you!\n\nJuly 4th 2016 6:40 PM\n\nHeading out to Sara's place today. She's hosting a party with Todd. I don't know why she invited me. Fuck Todd. The kids are at their grandparents place. \n\nI'm going with Percy. He's pretty pissed too, but he wants to drink all their alcohol and eat all their meat and bail without telling them he's going. \n \nJuly 5th 11:30 AM \n\nYesterday was quite the night. Holy shit, I had to drag Percy out of the house and into the car to get him home. He had fucking barfed all over his keys and I almost threw up myself fishing them out. \n\nThe nightmares were pretty bad today. I am writing this down right after I get up to get the most out of it. It was the same one again. I go out to the backyard on a Saturday morning, rubbing my eyes and I see Dad, hanging from the biggest branch on the apple tree. \n\nHis eyes are worn out and red. He looks like he's been crying. A lot. And there is crust around his eyes. \n\nI woke up pretty quickly after that. I ended up crashing at Percy's place because there was no way I could get home without a car, and I wasn't about to take his. \n\nLying fucker. He got caught up with some redhead back there and drank himself silly. \n\n3:00 PM\n\nHe's in the bath now. He's been clutching his head and talking pretty slowly. Must suck huh. \n\nFucker. \n\nI'm fixing up some lunch for us. Maybe I'll wait the hangover out so he can drive me back. It's looking pretty bad though. I might have to take the bus or crash here another day. \n\n7:00 PM\n\nDecided to stay. \n\nJuly 6th 9:00 AM \n\nHad the nightmare again. Nothing different. Percy is getting ready to drop me off. \n\n10:00 AM\n\nHe drove about five miles under the limit today. That's insane! He only ever slows down when he sees the goddamn cops!\n\nAsked him if he really was okay about halfway there. He said he was feeling fine.\n\n4:00 PM\n\nMade some fancy omelets with bits of mushroom and onion inside. Hard to make but fucking delicious! \n\nI'm lonely. \n\nI'm going to take a nap.\n\nJuly 7th 7:30 AM \n\nWoke up pretty early today, didn't even feel tired. Must have been the nap. \n\n6:00 PM \n\nGot a lot of work done today. Greg came over and told me that if I kept it up I might be able to get a bonus. It's not like I really need one, but if I can keep up this energy, I think I can do it. \n\nWho doesn't want more money? \n\nI might even ask for a raise. \n\nNothing else. Traffic was slower than usual today though. Annoyed the fuck out of me. I have no idea how I got to work on time. \n\nJuly 8th 6:00 AM \n\nI'm really surprised that I managed to get up this early. Something seems off. \n\n7:00 AM\n\nI must be bored as all hell. All the clocks seem to be moving slower than normal. I've heard of that effect where your brain replaces a blur of movement with what you see after the movement, fuck I forgot what it was called. \n\nThat isn't supposed to persist though, right? Maybe I'm sick. \n\nFucking hell. Did Todd put anything in my food or something? Fuck, man. Fuck Todd. \n\nShit. I'm getting paranoid again. I know I don't need my meds though. I need to write it down.\n\nI can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. \n\nI think I'm going to ask for a day off today. \n\n7:00 PM\n\nI'm feeling pretty tired. I feel like I pulled an all-nighter. I think I should see my doctor. \n\n9:00 PM \n\nI don't get how people can go places in this traffic. \n\n10:00 PM\n\nThe receptionist here talks way too slow. I'm not a child. The wait is going to be about a fucking hour I can tell. \n\n10:15 PM\n\nThe clock says 10:15. I don't believe it. Someone is fucking with me. The receptionist gives me slow glances from time to time. She looks somewhat worried. \n\nFuck you. You are lying. \n\nFinally Dr. Buum comes out. He's been my doctor for almost 15 years. He knows me. \n\nI'm tired. \n\n11:00 PM\n\nDoctor said I was fatigued. \n\nThe drive home took about 2 hours. I don't trust anything too much anymore. The cars were going at like 30 on the freeway wtf! \n\nI may be hallucinating. Staying off the meds might not have been a good idea. \n\nBut I really am thinking it's Todd. I will find him, and fuck him up and take Sara back. \n\nI'm going to sleep now. \n\nJuly 9th 4:00 AM\n\nWHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? \n\nI can't go back to sleep. Nightmare woke me up again, but I can't fall asleep!\n\nI thought I needed to pee, or something, but no. \n\nWhat the fuck what the fuck. \n\nwhat is happening to me. \n\n8:23 AM \n\nI am going to keep track of every minute now. I'm feeling tired again, like I should. I may have panicked. I have stayed inside my house. It's been four hours. \n\nIt feels longer though. \n\nI'm taking another nap. I seem to be taking a lot of those lately. \n\n10:57 AM\n\nGot up again. Feeling good. Left my boss an email, since he didn't pick up the phone. He must have been busy. I'm taking today off too. Too much stuff at once. \n\nI guess I'm going to have to stay good bye to that bonus. \n\n11:05 AM\n\nI went outside. Neighbor was out there in her front yard, checking out one of her plants. Pests maybe?\n\nI waved. I don't think she saw me for a bit, but then she gave me a slow smile.\n\n1:43 PM\n\nI'm feeling tired again. \n\n2:32 PM \n\nWow, must have dozed off writing this. \n\n2:34 PM\n\nNO FUCKING WAY WHAT IS HAPPENING \n\ntheres a 7-11 near my house \n\ni went there to get a six pack and the cars\n\nholy fuck the cars. why are they so slow?\n\ni was walking faster than them.\n\ni ran back home and right now im sobbing in the bathroom. \n\nthis is scary\n\n2:58:41 PM\n\nI dozed off again. \n\nI'm writing the seconds down now, because they are barely changing. I'm not panicking anymore. \n\nBut I still don't know what is going on. What do I do?\n\nEvery second feels like a minute, every minute feels like an hour. \n\nI'm scared. I wish I had Sara. \n\nFuck Todd. \n\n3:01:07 PM\n\nI just got up. The computer isn't really working that fast. I have had to regress to using a pencil and paper to write because my electronics take too long to start up. \n\nThe cars outside have slowed down immensely. \n\n3:03:38 PM\n\nTime is slowing down. That's the only explanation I can think of. \n\n3:04:02 PM\n\nI'm calling them 'cycles' now. Because 'days' won't suffice. Every time I go to sleep and get up. \n\nThat's a cycle. \n\nI've had 31 cycles so far. \n\n3:04:57 PM\n\nI'm not panicking anymore. I walked over to Sara's office and kissed her. On the lips. I'm on my 5839th cycle. \n\nI've gone through all of the lead and pencils and pens I had. I am on my last piece of lead. When it runs out, I'll have lost my purpose. There is no point. \n\nI have cured my anxiety and my panic attacks, but my loneliness has only grown. 16 years of nothing will do that to you. \n\nI exist outside of time. I do not age. I do not feel hunger. I do not experience human contact. \n\nThe gun doesn't work. I pulled the trigger a couple thousand cycles ago. The hammer hasn't even hit the bullet yet. \n\nDad had time. It was slow for him, but it's stopped for me. I can't kill myself anymore. \n\n3:04:57 PM\n\nDo you know what is worse than death? \n\n3:04:57 PM\n\nEterni\n\n\n ", "Day 1. Am I on drugs? This does not feel right. Something is wrong, but I can't put my finger on it. \n\nDay 3. Something is definitely not right. Everything seems sluggish. I am going to the doctor today. \n\nDay 4. My mother freaked out today. She said I look like I was on speed, but for me it feels like I'm on weed. What is going on? The results from the doctor are still not back yet. Told me to work out and get better sleep. My heart rate is elevated. \n\nDay 7. I spend the whole day inside, ordering takeaway, not seeing anyone. Days feel much longer than they should. The clock is definitely ticking slower. Something is wrong with me, something serious. Still no response from the doctor. Watching TV everyone is talking slower and slower and slower. \n\nDay 9. Gravity seems different. How fucked up is that. I dropped a glass to the floor, and it fell in something akin to the slow-motion films on youtube. I could clearly see every fragment of the glass bouncing off the floor. \n\nDay 10. Got message from doctor, he found nothing wrong. Well, I know something is wrong. Very wrong.\n\nDay 15. I set an online watch to tick in what I would concider a normal pace. It seems about 1.5 times slower than the watch on my phone. Wtf. \n\nDay 30. I am stressed all the time. Either it's me going insane or everything is moving considerably slower. For the last two weeks I have been locked inside my apartment. I am afraid to go outside and meet people, they will be scared over how I act, I am scared to see how they move and talk. Every day time moves slower, I know that now. I have made excuses to everyone I know and the university where I study so they don't ask where I am. But I can't keep this up for long. \n\nDay 60. Robbed a bank today. They didn't even notice me. Actually no one is noticing me. I am living on a different wave of time. I have watched hundreds of movies, but have switched over to books because the frames on my television is stuttering making it impossible focus. There is so much free time, it's exhausting. \n\nDay 75. At this rate I will be able to read every book in the universe before I die. It seems to be going at an exponential rate. I have realized that I will be able to create every cure to every disease imaginable, make computer that simulates universes, and eventually be able to change every atom in the universe, if time continues to slow at this rate. How fucked up is that. \n\nDay 76. I just wish it wasn't so lonely, but I am sure to discover a cure for that too." ]	2
	[WP] You visit the zoo and realize all the animals are watching you.	[ "\"Mommy? I'm...I'm a little bit scared. Just a little bit, though.\" \n\"You're a brave boy.\" \n\"Mommy, why do we have to be here? This place is scary...am I right? I'm right, aren't I? This place is scary?\" \n\"We'll be just a few minutes. It's OK, it's OK. And you can have a treat for being such a good boy.\" \n\"Really? Can I have M&Ms?\" \n\"Of course.\" \n\"Well....OK. But we'll be fast, right Mommy?\" \n\"That's right. I just need to get us some toothpaste and some water bottles, then we're back in the car and heading to the campground.\" \n\"OK. OK, OK, OK- ah! Mommy! Her over there's looking at me!\" \n\"It's OK. Look, I have everything we need. Here....here's some M&Ms; are these the right kind?\" \n^^\"yeah....\" \n\"OK. Let's go pay, and we'll be out of this Walmart and back on the road in no time! And can Mommy have an M&M? A green one?\" \n\"OK, Mommy. Let's just go.\"", " A few years ago, I decided to take a trip to the zoo after receiving a call from my boss informing me that work was cancelled for the day. It was a day that i'll never forget. It was 9/11. I quickly turned off the interracial midget bondage movie I had been watching, frantically attempting to see for myself the horrors of which my boss had just informed me of. CNN, NBC, ABC.. Every news station showing the same images that are now ingrained in each and every one of our minds, shaking our already fragile sense of security in this mad, mad world. \n \n I sat in stunned silence, absorbing the full gravity of this disaster. After speaking with numerous friends and family members, I finally decided that I had wallowed in despair long enough. Thankfully, no one that I personally know was killed that day. So it was time that I reset, cleared my head, and got out of the house. It was then that I remembered the single tab of lsd, printed with deadmau5's mouse head prominently on the front, sitting in my dresser drawer. Surely this could break me free of these thoughts, laced with scattered images of nation shaking terror, that plagued my mind. \n \n I grabbed the LSD, gathered some supplies, and headed out to the zoo. Getting lost in the beauty of nature was always a refreshing experience for me. As my luck would have it, I live very close to a lush and well maintained state forest, as well as a large zoo and aquarium combination park. \n\n Walking down my street, tab under tongue, I quietly mourned with the nation, and hoped for relief from this vivid waking nightmare. Just a thirty minute walk away, the zoo's large sign shined in the distance with just enough sparking brilliance, that I knew it was not simply the reflection of the sun, the acid was kicking in. I reached the ticket window, bought my pass, and entered through the turnstile. My body was starting to buzz with energy, and my mind was letting go of those horrible images, one by one; being replaced by the beautiful, and often majestic figures of the multitude of wild animals I encountered.\n\n This is when things got weird. As I was passing the koala bears for the second time, all four of them turned their heads at the same time to look at me. Once they caught my eyes, they would not turn away! A staring competition with four koalas, while on acid is a nerve wracking experience, but things got even more unnerving. The koalas never broke their gaze as i walked away. I shuffled away from them toward the next enclosure, which held the park's two mighty lions. To my disbelief, they too were already staring at me! I looked all around. The monkeys, hanging from trees, climbing and sitting. All of them staring solidly into my eyes. The emus across the way, all perfectly still, staring daggers from those beady dark eyes directly into my soul. My head began to spin. Fear rose up in me like a tidal wave, surging me into a paranoid state. I began to run. Every animal I passed, without fail, was looking directly at me. I ran faster and faster, desperately trying to get to an exit, but all I found were more and more animals watching me intently in my terrified panic. Finally I saw an exit sign, and I bolted in it's direction with my eyes fixated on it the whole time, as I could not stand to endure the stares any longer. \n\n BAM!!! My head bounces off thick glass as I reach what I believe to be the exit. I fall down hard, and the gravel hurts my bare skin as i hit the ground. I take note of this fact as the world comes back into view after the brutal impact. I look down at my body and realize that I'm naked. How can this be? I look back up at my surroundings. There is glass lining what should be the exit. Beyond the glass I notice the actual exit, which has a steady stream of wild animals walking through it, out into what appears to be a jungle. I stand up in disbelief and instinctively rub my eyes, but when I open them again I see the exact same thing. I'm trapped behind the glass naked, and animals are leaving the zoo. The people zoo.\n ", "I love my zoo. \n\nYes, my zoo. I'm here so much I might as well call it my own. \n\nIt's so nice being here, you know? Out in the sun. How can you not love it? \n\nYou really can't get bored in my zoo. Just from over here, I can watch the gorillas and the giraffes. Wherever you go, there's always something to look at. \n\nJust earlier this morning, Molly looked so glad to find a banana hidden behind that artificial rock. Let me tell you, it's amazing how expressive her face is -- even from a distance. I could see her glee as soon as she spotted the treat.\n\nEven the giraffes seem so happy today. It's fascinating seeing them gallop back and forth between the trees. It's almost like they're playing back home in the wild. \n\nThose gorillas and giraffes, they're my favourites to watch. Sometimes I even wonder how they taste. It's only natural, what with how their smell wafts up all the way from their cages. \n\nI chuckle to myself. Eat them? I must be crazy. Why would I do that? There's so much food to eat here. Too much, almost. My zoo just treats their guests really well, I guess. \n\nTo be honest though, not everything here is exactly perfect. I wouldn't want you coming here expecting some kind of paradise just to be disappointed. \n\nNot to freak you out, but there's something a little eerie about the animals at my zoo. \n\nIt's that they watch you. \n\nSome of them even point at you.\n\nSome of them even take pictures. \n\nHonestly, you'd think they'd never seen a lion before. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n " ]	3
	[WP] You wake up, and begin your normal morning routine. Although, when you open up the curtains, out your window, all there is is an empty, pitch-black void.	[ "'Beep, beep, beep...'\n\nThe sound of the alarm woke Thomas from his dream slowly. The sound invaded softly, like a wet tentacle into his brain. The sound caused panic, a rapid heart beat, and he awoke. He sighed loudly to himself and moved to kick his legs off of the edge of the bed. \n\nLike most mornings, this one started with a rude alarm clock and a few moments of silence as he felt the memories of the recent dream slip away like sand through the fingers. Tom swore the dream was something important, but most dreams tend to feel this way and thus he gave up on the failed somnolent resurrection. He stood and stumbled to the bathroom.\n\nThe morning ritual completed, his outfit assembled. Thomas stood in front of the mirror to inspect himself. Today was important. Today he would finally go on a date with his longtime crush, Sera. Yesterday he had finally admitted his feelings and she had expressed similar.\n\nHe spoke aloud to himself, \"It's not a date. We're just... hangin' out!\" The last two words had a silly accent attached. Mentally, he swore he wouldn't use that accent in front of Sera. Or did girls like silliness? He sighed.\n\nThomas made the bed quickly, sloppily. The attempt alone would be enough to keep his mother from calling him and complaining during the big events of the day. He imagined her complaining about how dark his room always was, 'Are you some sort of vampire? Open the darn window, Thomas Paul Hartlin.' He made a mock gagging noise and went to open his curtains.\n\nHe paused a foot away from the window. He squinted a bit, reaching out a hand experimentally. The curtains were not closed after all. They were open and yet the window did not show any light at all. The boy decided that his brother must be pranking him with a sheet over similar outside the window.\n\nHe struggled a bit, cracking the recently applied paint, but managed to open the window. He felt the warm summer breeze brush his face. It smelt like honeysuckle. Thomas pushed his hand through the dark opening expecting to contact a soft sheet or plastic covering. He felt nothing. \n\nHe mumbled to himself, \"Uhm... I'm not crazy, right?\" Tom crouched and peered into the dark opening. No light, no movement. Nothing. He listened carefully and heard a noise, 'Beep, beep, beep...' He assumed it was a faraway truck at the construction site down the hill.\n\nCautiously, he placed his head outside of the window. Next, his upper torso. He held onto the window frame to support himself. He looked around - Nothing. He reached as far as he could, hoping he'd discover whatever trick his brother was playing - Nothing again. Finally he looked down. His eyes traced the walls of his house down to where the ground should be. The house appeared as it should - Sunlit, off-white paint. Where the shrubs should start at the base of the house, where there would be grass was blackness - Nothingness.\n\nHe pulled himself back inside. He simply stood still, staring away from the black window and towards his bed. Dreaming still?\n\nThe alarm clock began to chirp again, 'Beep, beep, beep...' Instinctively he walked towards it, but the sound stopped after one cycle of beeping. \n\nHe sighed and spoke under his breath, \"...the hell, man?\" Thomas took a deep breath, \"Mooooom!\"\n\nHe waited for the inevitable response for a moment before trying again, \"Moooom! Peter is being a dickhead. He put something over my windows!\" Nothing.\n\n\"Mom?\" He squinted and looked around his room for a second, the typical display of confusion whilst alone. Thomas walked towards his bedroom door.\n\n\"Moooom! Answer!\" He turned the knob and opened it angrily. \n\nHe froze. \n\nThrough the open door he saw nothing. Blackness. He looked down to see that the carpet of his room simply stopped at the door frame. He closed the door quickly, locking it this time. He simply stared at the closed door. Thomas' heart was pounding now. His hands were shaking. Was this a bad dream? This had to be a dream.\n\n'Beep, beep, beep...' from outside the closed door. He backed away slowly, keeping his eye on the closed door.\n\nThe noise stopped, but before he could begin to wonder the cause, he heard the noise again. It was outside the window again, 'Beep, beep, beep...'\n\nHe turned quickly towards the open window. The beeping stopped.\n\n'Beep, beep, beep...' The alarm was going off again, much louder this time. He turned towards the alarm clock, then quickly back towards the door as the noise began from the hallway again, louder still. \n\nHe was backing away now, to the center of the room in an attempt to distance himself from all the clamor. The noise wouldn't stop this time. He heard it from the window once again. It sounded like it was all around him, crushing him with chaos.\n\nThe chorus of noise started to synchronize now. Collectively, the sound increased further.\n\nThomas fell to his knees. He began to weep, \"Stop! Stop! I give up! Stooop! Mom! Help... Someone! Help me!\" He slammed his eyes shut.\n\nThe noise stopped. He barely noticed over the residual ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes slowly, staring at the carpet. The boy was afraid to look around. \n\nHe heard a voice now, deep and booming. The voice sounded like it was surrounding him. It felt like it was coming from inside him. It sounded like a radio transmission, grainy and faraway.\n\nIt spoke, \"Hey, Steve? Sorry about that, buddy. The secondary mainframe had a wild glitch. I think we've got it all squared away now though. Steve, you there?\"\n\nThomas spoke, coughing once to gain the courage to speak again, \"H-hello? Who are you?\"\n\nIt spoke again, quieter this time like it was talking to someone else, \"Yeah, no. I think we'll have to purge the event. Yeah... Immersion failure.\" A pause, \"Yep. Total loop. He'll be fine though.\"\n\nThe voice spoke again, louder again, \"Hey Steve. Sorry, buddy. We're gonna purge this one, alright? I think we spooked you a bit too hard. We'll be powering down in 10.\"\n\nThomas looked towards the ceiling, \"W-what?\"\n\n\"Soft reset, Steve. No worries. You'll be back. No memories though. 9 minutes now.\"\n\nThomas tried speaking again, but the voice would not reply. After nearly two minutes of continued silence, he sniffled once and looked towards the window. Sunlight! He saw a bird fly past. With renewed vigor, he stood up and ran to the window, nearly throwing himself out of it. \n\nThe sun, the sky, the trees... He could see the neighbor in her silly big hat watering the flowers. He sighed to himself in relief.\n\n'Beep, beep, beep...'\n\nThe sound of the alarm woke Thomas from his dream slowly. The sound invaded softly, like a wet tentacle into his brain. The sound caused panic, a rapid heart beat, and he awoke. He sighed loudly to himself and moved to kick his legs off the edge of the bed.", "I was falling, and falling quickly. The wind caught in my hair, whistling a tune of despair. Beneath: townhouses, cars and cattle were scattered and splattered like paint. Falling.\n\nI woke up, heaving a deep breath that only comes at the boundary between a nightmare and a normal morning. But the breath couldn't last long. I didn't sleep well, and I was late for the most important meeting of my career - the meeting which would decide my future. I needed a promotion to get off this hamster-wheel of a job I had. More importantly, I deserved a promotion. In my briefcase were meticulously prepared charts, graphs and presentations. I needed this. Really, I needed this mostly for the sake of my elderly mother - what would she do if I didn't get this promotion? The hip replacement bills were wracking up. The play was to overwhelm, intimidate and otherwise psychologically bully the bosses into promoting me. Demonstrate my value to the corporation. Everyone needs their share of the pie.\n\nI scarfed down a quick bagel and avocado, and opened my window.\n\nThere wasn't anything there. I mean, literally nothing. It wasn't simply dark - there was complete sensory deprivation out there. Darker than black, more silent than solitude.\n\nThis is an oddity, and certainly very inconvenient, I thought. Oh well, no time to think it through. I had a big day ahead of me. The world sometimes does not restrict itself to the narrow, ordered parameters which I require of it, but very rarely does it simply disappear. Completely inconvenient. A rage filled me. This meeting was terribly important to me, and this was an ill-timed, ill-concieved event. A prank? Who would do this to me? Josiah, the boss, loved pranks. But he also loved punctuality. No, not him. Gerald, the pasty-faced intern with pidgeon-slanted feet? Maybe. He was jealous of the last quarterly report where I prepared better than him. I never understood pranks. \n\nIt didn't matter. I have ways of sculpting the world, even when curious events like this happen. And let me tell you, in New York City, I've definitely seen more curious events than this. I once saw a man put garbage in a blender with some Coke, feed it to his dog, and return to panhandling without skipping a beat. Naturally, this was also very inconvenient as it was in my path, and I was forced to step around it. A mild detour. But the world can't always be controlled.\n\nBack to the task at hand - focus is the primary attribute of success. Was the front door serviceable? It was locked. Again, odd, but not insurmountable. I love a challenge. Could I climb out of the window? When I tried to get near, I immediately got the same feeling as I had in the dream that morning. Falling. Splattered geological decorations below. Wind and eternal terror.\n\nWell, that was odd. I certainly didn't know what to make of that. No matter. Concentration, that's what's needed. I could win at anything if I put my mind to it. Could I Skype into the meeting? No. My phone was dead. My poor mother - I needed this promotion. I needed to win, and win big, and I wasn't going to let this void stop me. What were some stratagems I could put into action here? \n\nThe only logical course of action, it seemed, was to return to the window and attempt to exit it. The world can be strange, but it always yields to your will, I find, especially if you push it hard enough.\n\nI returned to the window and immediately felt the same magnetic disorientation I felt before. Falling. Terror. Feelings were of no use to me. I barely notice them these days. Inconvenient, flitty little remnants of our mammalian past. I pushed on and concentrated hard on the task at hand. I have always had the best concentration, you know. As I got closer to the window, a deep thrumming emerged from the bowels of the room. I perched on the windowsill and jumped. This meeting was all-consuming for me now. I simply had to make it, for my own dignity, for my mother's health, to appease my boss's rigorous expectations of a company employee. I had prepared enough charts and graphs and meticulously organized the social plays I would inflict on the Corporation to receive my well-deserved promotion. This day would be mine.\n\nI jumped.\n\nI was falling, and falling quickly. The wind caught in my hair, whistling a tune of despair. Beneath: townhouses, cars and cattle were scattered and splattered like paint. Falling." ]	2
	[WP] A futuristic knight is been granted the highest accolade.	[ " \"Surge et videri et cognosci Surgite\" the Magister Sacrorum intoned, his weathered hands holding the Gladius Finis above his head. \n\n The heavy sword swayed in the old priest's grasp, catching the blue lights of the chamber as it wavered in the air. The ancient blade, inscribed with the names of all who had been honored to carry the dread weapon, bore the mark of a new name bringing the total to forty-two. \"Valmai\" the name glowed the brightest, as it was carved through two centuries of battles that coated the historic blade.\n\n Valmai got up from the cold steel floor, skin warming in the absence of its' closeness. Looking up to the priest, the newest Knight of the Order of Sanguis Fertur - The Knight of the Blood Borne, stood ready to accept the sword of the title just bestowed. \n\n The highest honor that can be given to a Blade Reaver is to have their name etched for eternity onto the Gladius Finis. The honor had almost gone to another due to Valmai's heredity. No human had ever grasped the hilt of this blade and been counted in the line of the Blood Borne. She hoped she would bring as much honor as the last forty-one knights who came before.", "The queen raised her sword, and brought it towards the kneeling man’s shoulder. He sighed deeply as he looked up to her, each piece of metal reflecting the shimmering sun to the walls of the palace. \n\n“I anoint you today” she began to speak, her voice firm, but trembling “for your contributions. You have saved my life.” Her breath held itself tight inside her chest as she touched the old sword to the man’s right shoulder. Her eyes flickered up to the crowd; hundreds of people were gathered here today in celebration, a celebration of life. Her eyes had glossed over, her hand began to shake. She looked back to the man, slowly raising the sword over his head and to the other side.\n\n“As you all know-” She spoke up to the crowed, all pushed together in old pews that had been placed in front of her thrown for the event. “A threat was placed on my lif-“ Her voice cut out, echoing into the hall. A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m so sorry.” She choked and looked to the crowds. \n\nThe sound of blood coursing through her veins pounded in her ears, like death itself was beating a gong beside her. She touched the tip of the sword to the man’s again. With blurring vision she lifted the sword away, and dropped it to the ground. The man flinched as the clattering noise filling the room. She turned away from the crowd, the news crews as her white dress spun outwards, desperately trying to break away. \n\nThe Man stood, his tall figure toward over, and to the crowd, he reached out his hand, grabbing her shoulder and leaned into her brown hair and spoke. \n\nSeconds later, she faced the crowd; streams of water running from her eyes to her chin glistened in the light. With one final cry, she collapsed into the knights arms.\n\n~~::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::~~\n\n“Do you even listen to yourself!?” The officer cried, slamming his hand to the table before looking up with a sigh “Look, Mr. Noble. We greatly do appreciate your helping us out and all, we really do, but not everything has more too it.” He looked down to his desk, tapped twice on the glass and it sparked to life. He reached towards the corner and dragged it down, opening several files before selecting one. “Look. Here’s her death certificate; Heart failure, no foul play. Satisfied?”\n\nI glanced towards my friend, his eyes narrowed as they shifted to the table. He stretched out his hand, and pushed his fingers to the desk dragging the document towards him. He pulled out a small glass device, his phone, out of his hand and placed it overtop, and the image slid onto it. “No.”\n\n“No?” he crossed his arms and glared to the both of us. “What is this time Jameson?” \n\n“Medical examiner. Where are they?” he spoke firmly as he brought his face and rubbed it as he thought.\n\n“Come on James, you know we don’t ha-“ \n\n“Grayson, it’s the Queen, royalty. Are you telling me you didn’t have someone examine her cause of death personally?”\n\n“Uh well” He rubbed the back of his head, and looked down to the desk. “What do you want from her?” \n\n“Just a chat.”\n\nHe sighed, looked towards the clock in the corner, its small digital numbers moving fast. “Just this once. Five, minuets, you got that? I’m sending the codes to your phone.” He bent down and tapped the screen a few times and a door clicked behind us. I began to walk towards it and opened it. Jameson pulled his coat tighter as he walked through the door, a smug look crawling across his rather blank face. \n\n“What are you thinking?” I asked, as I closed the door and pushed my hand through my hair as we walked to the elevator. His face lit up as he turned to me but looked back ahead. “Not yet.” \nI cocked my head towards him. “Whatever.” The dim lights of the building casted a grimy yellow light upon the old hallways, I felt I was dirty just by being here. It had been the first police building in the town, when it was first build. Somehow, through the years, a warped sense of sentimentality kept parts from its much needed repair.\n\nIt had a huge news story, her death. She was the youngest to serve in over a hundred years, seemed to everyone in perfect health. I tapped my hand against my sides as I filtered through everything I knew about the situation. It was wrong, it was all wrong. How could she have died? We approached a silver doorway and Jameson pulled out his phone and tapped it to the sensor and it opened promptly with a ding. \n\n“I said it already. You do know I hate repeating myself.” He said as soon as the door shut.\n\n“No, I don’t think you did.” It took me a few seconds to clue into what he had begun about. “Murder?” The words felt heavy off my tongue, almost as if I could be arrested for just saying those words. He smiled.\n\n“Good old fashion murder. Well and maybe a bit.” \n\n“Aaand a bit? Okay,“ I started, “why are we going to see the coroner?” \n\nBefore I got my answer, the door dinged and we stepped out into the cold room. The walls flickered to life casting an electronic glow to the white concrete floors. This section had been part of the newer addition to the building. He motioned forward and I began to walk\n\n“’Ello!” I called forward ‘round the bend. ”Anyone down here?” \nA thump rang through the room, followed by the smashing of heals of the ground. A woman immerged out of the small corner office and headed towards us. Her face was scrunched, and lips pursed complimenting her hair, which was just as tightly wound as she looked. \n\n“Why are you? Who let you in?” She snarled. \n\n “I’m Mr.Hunt and this is my friend Jameson Noble.” Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, turning slightly away.\n\n“What do you want?” \n\n“I’m so sorry to bother you.” Jameson started his voice saddened and weak. I turned to him and furrowed my brow, but looked to the floor. He must’ve some kind of plan. “But its just” he half sighed half chocked “I think, he might still be here.”\nThe woman rolled her eyes, and placed her clip board down and looked to Jameson. “And who might that be?” \n\nHe let out a sob, obviously buying time; I glanced to her clipboard, several names laid scrawled out upon it. “Quaker, Henry Quaker. Sorry about Jameson.” I sighed, moving my hand to his shoulder; it was his turn to look to the floor. “ It’s just he’s still quite upset about it.” \n\n“Do-do you think we could take a-“ he sniffled, and a tear rolled across is face “do you think we could see him? We didn’t make it to the funeral.” She reached for her shirt and pulled down on it, flattening all the wrinkles.\n\n“Well see, come with me please.” She spun towards the room and began walking away. Jameson turned to me, with a quick wink began to follow her. Now it was my turn.\n\n I grabbed her clipboard. All the names had been listed in alphabetical order beside a date; the records. I flipped the pages, glancing over to Jameson every couple seconds. Charlotte, the name of the queen. Page 1, name missing. Page 2, name missing. Her name was vacant from the list. I pulled out my phone and opened the camera, and copied the list into my phone by scanning it. \n\nThe two walked out of the office and toward the wall that seemed to be lined with cupboards. She reached for one, a click filling the room. She opened it and pulled out a small stasis chamber with a body in it. She began to talk with him about his so called friend as I began to walk around the room. The equipment had all been neatly placed, each part in its compartment. I small box of gloves sat on the counter, only a few taken out. I returned back to where I had originally had been standing. She seemed content with his tears to turn away and look back to me. Her eyes darted towards me and down to the clipboard that was in front of me. \n\n“So, have you heard the news about the queen?” I asked. She reached for the clipboard as she walked forward bringing it to her chest in one motion. \n\n“What about it?” Her eyes darted back to Jameson, who was no doubt listening to us than ‘grieving’.\n\n“I heard she died.” I spoke, trying to sound as shocked as I could fake.\n\n“Oh yea, I heard of that.” She seemed to calm down a bit.\n\n“You’know, I’m sorry, I’m a fan of the royal family as much as the next guy but” I leaned in closer and whispered like it was some big secret “I think this is a little much for them.” Her eyes grew wide and she stepped back pulling the board even closer. \n\n“Yea, its absolutely crazt!” She brushed her shirt with one hand. “I bet some people would be happy about this. Always the crazies eh?.” Walking over to Jameson she spoke loud and harsher than before. \n\n“I’m sorry, sir, I think your time is up. I’m sorry for your loss.” Closing the stasis chamber door she led us straight to the elevator doors. \n\nOnce again the doors dinged shut.\n\n“Charlotte wasn’t on the list.”\n\n“Yea, I noticed a few things of my own.” \n\n“You ready for this?”\n\n“OH YEA” Jameson bellowed as he rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be a bit harder than I thought.”\n\nOk, so this isn't what you had in mind most likely. But like, here you go. Its set in a futuristic society, governed by royalty. So think midevil monarchy rulership, with modern laws and future stuff. If you want more parts, let me know! Also, critiques are welcome/encouraged.\n\nEdit:Formatting" ]	2
	[WP] You've just died. You wake up and realize you are now a character in a video game you spent a lot of time playing while you were alive.	[ "I thought I was in Purgatory for the first five minutes or so. \n\nI mean I was sure I was dead, getting rear ended by a 16 wheeler usually do the trick.\n\nI woke up in a hazy airplane surrounded by people that looked like they were from the 1960's, I mean there was a guy smoking on the plane, odds were leaning towards it not being real. \n\n'<italic>Could be worse ways to spend eternity</italic>' I thought. and tried to take a nap.\n\nAnd of course, that was when the plane decided to crash into the freaking ocean and break in half.\n\n'<italic>It seems I spoke too soon.... damn</italic>\n\nAs I began to swim to the surface and I had a disturbing thought.\n\n'<italic>I need to breathe... wait why do I need to breathe? You don't need to breathe when you are dead! .... right?</italic>'\n\nI quickly abandoned this thought and frantically swam to the surface and was almost cut in half by a propeller for my troubles. When I made it to the top I took a huge gasp to fill my air starved lungs.... only to find myself surrounded by a ring of fire... F* all the things.\n\nI idly thought if Johnny Cash wrote his song after experiencing this same thing after OD'ing on... heroin? Yeah he was heroin... I took a look around and saw there was a actually an opening in the ring of fire and... a lighthouse? \n\n'<italic>That's oddly convenient</italic>' I thought as I swam over to the equally convenient steps to get out of the water and started my way to the door.. which was oddly opened.\n\n'<italic>Beggars can't be choosers<italic>' \n\nSo I made my way into the unlit room and tried to get my bearings. \n\nBOOM\n\n'<italic<Aaaaand the door shut behind me.. of course! I am completely screwed! Locked in a dark room with no way out an-</italic> \n\nZZZZT\n\nAt that moment the lights decided to turn on.. to reveal a giant profile of a man looking down at me, with a banner that said 'NO GODS. NO KINGS. ONLY MAN'.\n\nAt that moment... I realize what is going on... I check my wrist to make sure, aaaaand yeah I have three chain links there...\n\n\"Oh you have got to be F****** kidding me! What did I do to deserve this?!\"", "It's painful.\n\nI mean, You don't get shot out of nowhere everyday, you know?\n\nAnd then there was this skeleton horses and bizzare-smelling giants and ghouls around me.\n\nI held my supposedly bleeding head, only to find a long, white hair.\n\n\"What' wrong, my King?\" I looked at the sword on my waist, and cursed. Dangling there, with freckles of snow, the runeblade shining with wicked ice-blue light, the Frostmourne.\n\nAnd beside me, the skeleton with shackled arms, the Lich Kel'thuzad.\n\n\"Where are we?\"\n\n\"We are at the gates of Quel'thalas, your majesty. Our task is to gather the three moonstone needed to open the gate to the High Elven capital, and burn the wretched elves to ashes!\"\n\nDamn, of all part from the Warcraft campaign I could took part in, I'm stuck with Reign of Chaos?", "Fuck, what happened? Last I remember is that I was stabbed while walking home, and now I am in... some kind of dark place. Is this hell? Or is it just limbo? Hell if I know. It's rather relaxing though. However, I also hear an unintelligible assortment of voices, they sound familiar. I shrug it off, maybe it's my loved ones at my funeral. Suddenly, a blinding light appears and I black out once again.\n\n...\n\n....\n\nA strange dream flashes before my eyes and my memories disappear\n\n.....\n\n......\n\nI feel warm, like I'm laying out on a spring day. I feel grass on the back of my head. I can't feel it on my back though, it feels like I've got a large coat on. I hear some people walking towards me. They start talking, but I can't seem to completely hear what they say, only snippets like \"milord\" and \"strange man.\". But, I finally manage to understand them completely.\n\n\"Chrom, we have to do SOMETHING.\"\n\n\"What do you propose we do.\"\n\nMy eyes open.", "I wake to a bed different to the one I am used to, sitting up I look around a room that is familiar yet different.\n\n\"Good morning Shepard\" says a voice that I remember so vividly. \n\n\"EDI\" I say wearily.\n\n\"Is something wrong commander?.\" She replies.\n\n\"Erm...\" I start not sure how to continue, not knowing where I am in the timeline.\n\n\"Mr Valkarian was wondering when you were going to give the \"Awe-inpiring\" speech before we go through the omega 4 relay.\"\n\nOh. God. No. I am not ready for this.\n\n\n\n", "The pain is subsiding, but it is replaced in slow increments by two somethings far worse, the stench of decay and the feeling of hard metal beneath my cheek.\n\nWhere is the asphalt? The sounds of traffic? Why does everything smell like old rebar baking in the sun? I slowly open my eyes, blinking in the harsh light pooling over dead branches and onto a carpet of leaves and the steel plate I'm resting on. In the distance I can see a reddish-brown shape rooting in the undergrowth, and it startles, grunting, when I try to raise my head.\n\nMy vision is much worse than I remember. I push dirty fingers into the leaves around me and come back with a pair of glasses, a motion that is like a ghosting of memory I do not understand. As I do, I realize there is a weight on my right arm that I cannot recall being normal, and as I fumble my glasses onto my nose I look down at an unmistakable black and green screen.\n\n(This), I think to myself, (this is what happens when you die?)\n\nThe red and brown thing resolves itself into a deer with two heads. It lowers both of them for a moment, raking a hoof through the dusty loam beneath it and across a dry piece of slate with an all-to-real grating whine. I turn my head away and it snorts, shakes itself, and starts to walk away. In the distance I can see the dim outline of Sanctuary, and a tree house. My tree house.\n\nI look down at my dirty hands, hands that are not mine. I glance then at my chest and legs, but none of these are mine. I run my filthy hands over the front of my leather jacket and then I slowly drag myself to my feet and feel along my side for the .45 I know will be there.\n\nI think about all the things I remember about this place, and then I remember the one thing that I cannot forget, and I cannot forgive.\n\n\"Shaun's gonna wish I ended up somewhere else,\" I whisper to nobody but myself. And then I start to walk, whistling the melody to Butcher Pete, thinking about a certain German Shepherd I can't wait to finally pet.", "It was a while before I could see anything apart from blinding white. The walls, the floor, all made of a sterile white material that seemed somehow familiar.\n\nI wondered whether this was heaven - perhaps I would soon see my sister and parents! But as my vision cleared it seemed more like a hospital.\n\nSlowly, I noticed a sound beside my head, and turned to see a small radio blaring an irritating jingle. This was all starting to feel incredibly familiar....\n\nWait. Nope. I had to get out of here.\n\nThe door hissed open into a small grey corridor, monitored by a security camera blinking red. At the end of the hall stood a cylindrical lift, open and ready for me to enter.\n\nA mechanical voice echoed through the lift chamber as I stepped forward as if on autopilot.\n\n\"Welcome, test subject. Please keep all arms and legs inside the capsule while the lift is moving. Aperture Science thanks you for your cooperation.\"\n\n**\n\nI honestly wish this was real I love GlaDOS so much lmao", "The darkness finally subsides and I see a light at a great distance ahead. I try to move towards it but can't. The light is getting closer. It's as if I'm being pulled in to it. More darkness. I feel my hands, legs, my body. I manage to rub my eyes. I open them and I'm suddenly no longer behind the wheel. The truck speeding towards me is also gone. Was it just a dream? Did I die? There's no answer. My vision begins to clear. I'm standing in an alley in a city that is vaguely familiar. To my left and right, wooden fences that stretch to the city street ahead. Leaning against the fence on the right, a bicycle. I've seen this before, I know what to do. \n\nI get on the bicycle and start pedaling. I don't know where to go but it feels like the right way. I look behind me. 3 men, also on bikes, are following me. They also seem familiar, like they are friends from a past life. One is a larger man, barely keeping pace in between large breaths. Another man, wearing a black hat and smoking what seems to be a cigar of sorts, rides a bit too close for comfort. The last one speeds ahead to lead the way. He seems too familiar, like a brother or something. All of them wearing the same color. Where have I seen this before? I hear an engine revving. Gunshots. An old car is chasing us with some lunatic hanging out the window shooting at us. \"Follow me!\" says the man most familiar to me. \n\nWe ride through the city, dodging bullets and traffic as these gunmen try to kill us. A quick turn. Pedaling hard now, I'm almost out of breath. The other two are no where to be seen. We ride down an embankment. Surely the car couldn't follow us down here, down inside this large culvert. I look back. The other two are following us again, but the car is gone. We ride up this impossibly steep embankment as if it were nothing to the entrance of a cul de sac. I know this place, I can feel it. It dawns on me. An overwhelming thought enters my head. I know where I am now.\n\n \"Grove Street. Home.\"", "It's dark and cold. I cannot breath. I try to resist panicky urges and slowly claw my way out of the grave I've been buried in. \nFinally some light. Even if it is only from torches. I stand up and realize I'm in a cemetery. I'm wearing clothes that look like medieval Armour with a sword strapped to my back. On my hand a red glimmering ring.\nI take a few steps forward and notice writing on the floor shining with a wicked glow. It says: \"Press A to dash\".", "The last thing I remembered was being swept up into a tornado, and a sharp pain in the back of my head.\n\nI woke up kneeling, gazing out of a window with decorative metal reinforcement lining it, in the shape of a flower I vaguely recognized. The enormous vista of space greeted me, a shattered moon with golden structures holding it together before the Earth, near-barren and little green patches on the land masses.\n\nA robotic voice snapped me out of my daze. \"Welcome back, operator! I have been patiently fzzt* WaitINg foR bLOoD fzzt for your return.\" I stood up, feeling much stronger than I had in my life. I looked down, and found myself at ease somehow that I wasn't exactly... human.\n\nAt least, upon further inspection it seemed more like a suit but I had a nagging thought that my own personal self was not in the suit I was seeing. I took in my surroundings, I appeared to be inside what I always imagined a spaceship would be like if they were personally designed by me.\n\nLooking back from the front viewport there were two tables with holographic projections, one labeled \"Codex\" and the other \"Market\". I approached them and a bay door opened, creating a path to the belly of my newfound ship. Curious, I walked down into the newly-accessible area and found an array of tools, 2 constructs on each side and one in the center of the low-ceiling room, looking vaguely like a Star-Trek teleporter.\n\nI entered this teleporter-like construct and was greeted by a large holographic menu, seemingly a list of equipment I own but didn't remember acquiring. I picked out a set, the Zhuge, Dex Dakra, and Boltace. Crossbow, Pistol, and some spiky-sticks I figure I'll use later.\n\nI hear a echo from deeper in my ship, a groan of pain. I followed it, down a corridor to a door marked with a 5-petal flower design, a infinite-loop into itself. I crept towards it cautiously and it opened, startling me. It revealed a large room with a white tree growing from a pod-like structure surrounded by mist. How curious, I thought to myself.\n\nStriding closer to the pod, it started opening, and I felt a rush of fresh air. I gulped it in greedily, before the pod fully opened. My vision flickered. A fuzz like an old TV screen without the signal overtook my sight, and then I could see again.\n\nIn front of me lay a figure, from the same place I had been standing only moments ago. I tried to get up, but I couldn't. My body felt weak, but my mind felt stronger than ever. Clear, fast, unclouded. I scared myself with the realization of what I had become. My robotic companion fizzled into view.\n\n\n\"Ordis is the Cephalon. Ordis is the Ship. You are the Operator. You are a Tenno.\"\n\n\n----------------------------------------------\n\n\nThis was my very first writing prompt story, so I hope you peeps enjoy.", "Falling. Stop.\n\nIt's like being in a downgoing elevator that stops every half floor. Except there's no elevator. Or floor.\n\nInstead, there are walls. Solid brick walls that stretch up towards the void above.\n\nFalling. Stop.\n\nIs it a street under me? Or am I in a warehouse? What are those cubes?\n\nFalling. Stop.\n\nWithout warning, I'm facing the void above. There was no sense of movement; just a change of state, from upright to supine.\n\nI try to sit up, but found that I am as unbendable as an I-beam. Come to think of it, I may as well be an I-beam. Where are my arms?\n\nFalling. Stop.\n\nI'm looking at the walls again. At the same time, I jerk backwards, just as abruptly as I'm falling.\n\nThe ground below me is clearer now. I'm definitely not falling towards a street. Streets aren't made of patterned cubes stacked haphazardly.\n\nFalling. Stop.\n\nMore jerks backwards.\n\nFalling. Stop.\n\nThere seems to be a gap right underneath me, between two tall stacks of cubes. Two flush walls of cubes line the gap.\n\nFalling. Stop.\n\nFalling. Stop.\n\nFalling.\n\nGravity seems to notice me again unannounced, like a forgetful parent. The stacks of cubes blur into a field of colours.\n\nFalling.\n\nThe bottom quarter of me is in the gap now. The cubes around look at me impassively.\n\nThen I understand.\n\nI understand the walls. I understand the jerking motions. I understand the cubes.\n\nMost importantly, I understand the gap.\n\nThis is my gap. It was made for me.\n\nFalling.\n\nWalls, flush around me.\n\nStop.\n\nI do not fear. I should be content.\n\nOblivion is the best thing I can hope for.\n\nAfter all, you don't get to clear four rows at once every day.", "It all went black. There was nothing.\n\nWhen all of a sudden your eyes crack open. \n\nYour eyes are blurry from the long sleep, your muscles fatigued - but somehow stronger.\n\nOrange lines seem to float in the air and your vision is seemingly marred by some electronic visor.\n\nYou wriggle your fingers and toes, there is some feeling returning to your body and then you start to notice the cold. \n\nWinter. \n\nPushing yourself up unto your knees, you start to a feel for your body again. \n\nThe ground is frozen but your knees aren't cold - knee pads are strapped over your cool looking slim jeans. \n\nYou can feel the thick warmth of the dark green winter jacket around you - a rather trendy one you think to yourself. \n\nYou feel the weight of a backpack slung on your back.\n\nAnd just above your chest, you feel the pressure of a tight fitting bulletproof vest. \n\nYou feel something else odd underneath it... protrusions... a bulge of sorts..\n\nBreasts? You have breasts now?! \n\nThe orange lines move around, and you notice the glow on your wrist. \n\nMore orange... a strange wrist watch, but where are you?\n\nYou prop yourself up on a traffic barrier and see the carnage of empty cars, yellow plastic sheets, and the piles of bodies strewn around.\n\nYou look at the skyline and see the buildings you knew from another lifetime: New York.\n\nWhen suddenly it all went black - and only the strange letters: I1L1II1LLI1 float in the air.\n\nUntil an electronic male voice buzzed in your ears.\n\n\"Now entering the dark zone.\" - ISAC\n\nAnd then there was nothing.", "Where am I? All I remember is that car coming out of nowhere and - oh, am I dead?\n\nThere seems to be a path for me to follow. What are these things on the floor? Maybe I should pick them up, they could come in handy.\n\n-\n\nGod damn it Billy! You are lost. This place is a freaking maze. I must be in some kind of purgatory. Wait, what's that coming around the corner. Dear god... It's a... it's a ghost! I've got to get out of here!\n\nhuff huff No good, it's just as fast as me, I can't lose it. Maybe if I can communicate with it, I can explain that I'm not here to do harm. Well, here goes nothing...\n\n\"WAKKA WAKKA WAKKA\"\n\n...Holy crap, I'm P-\n\nNEW GAME. 3...2...1" ]	12
	[WP]In a world where music is a weapon, concerts (nations) use armies (set lists), divided into bands (divisions) to wage sonic warfare.	[ "It’s been twenty eight years since the end of the war. The world has changed dramatically in those short years. Maybe if we had won things would be different.\n\nRed’s parents listened to old records in the middle of the night. They huddled around the old small record player as it whispered out a melody. She was supposed to be asleep but always crept up to their door and pressed her ear against the cold rough wood. When the music was playing she felt like everything would be alright. \n\n\nShe sat with her back against the wall; her eyes closed listening to what her mother had called an opera. The woman's beautiful voice drifted through the door and danced around her head. She could almost see the woman’s face in her mind. A thunderous crack from downstairs snapped her eyes open. The record scratched to a halt and her parents quickly ran about the room. Heavy boots ran up the stairs. She slipped away and climbed the small ladder into her bedroom, a small nook in the attic. She heard shouting from below. She pressed her small body against the floor boards and peered through the cracks. A man in a black uniform grabbed her mother and threw her down onto the floor.\n\n\n\"Where is it?\" He shouted \n\nHer mother stared back at him, a defiant strong woman. He pulled a black pistol out of the holster on his belt.\n\n“I will only ask you one more time. Where is it?!” His voice rose to a shrill shriek as he pointed the gun at her head. Red stifled a cry as tears filled her eyes. Her father who was being held back by two men roared and broke free from their grip. He managed to take two strides before the man turned and shot him in chest. Her father’s body fell to the floor in front of his wife. His out stretched hand reached for her. \n\nThe man with the gun brushed off the front of his uniform. “It doesn’t matter; we will find it without your help. Then we will burn your hovel to the ground.” He raised the pistol to her head again.\n\n“The music will always play on.” She whispered.\n\nThe pistol cracked. Red couldn’t take her eyes off of her mother as she fell forward toward the body of her father. She cried out. \n\n“There is someone else here! Get them!” The man in uniform shouted.\n\nRed’s small bare feet carried her across the attic and out onto the cold rooftop. She looked back one last time at her home as the men rushed up the ladder. \n\n“The music will always play on. I promise you that mom.” She took off into the cold night, running from roof top to roof top, the cold stinging her face and feet. \n\n---\n\n“Do you even know where we are going?” Markus asked\n\n“Of course I do, stop worrying so much.” Arin replied with growing impatience.\n\nThe dark empty street stretched in front of them. Tall abandoned brick buildings flanked the trash strewn street. \n\n“This way!” Arin said excitedly and turned down an alley. After a few feet into the alley Markus felt it. The low heavy vibrations.\n\n“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Markus warned.\n\n“For being who you are, you sure are a coward.” Arin snapped angrily. “I’m going, you can stay here if you want. It’s your life.” He pushed open a small wooden door and disappeared into the shadows. Markus looked around the alley nervously and ducked through the doorway. The heavy pulsing vibrations could be felt throughout his entire body now. He pushed open a final door and was almost knocked back by the music. Rhythmic bass washed over him. A massive crowd of people danced and jumped with the music. It took his breath away. He forgot how illegal this was and pressed into the crowd to get lost in the music.\n\nMarkus had forgotten all about Arin, all about his life. It all slipped away as he danced. He had worked his way to the front and watched the young woman that made the music. A beautiful young woman with vibrant red hair. Her equipment looked like it was built out of junkyard parts and scrap metal, but it produced the most brilliant music. Science had learned how to weaponize music. Someone else had learned how to turn it into a drug. Propaganda claimed it was a drug anyway, to Markus it simply felt good. A young dark haired man rushed to the DJ’s side and whispered into her ear. She quickly stopped the music.\n\n“Everyone run. They are coming. Put in your earplugs!” She shouted.\n\n“Censors! Run!” A young woman screamed. Others repeated her and the word spread like wild fire through the crowd. Young men and women fished into their pockets and pulled out ear plugs. They jammed them into their ears and began rushing toward exits.\n\nThe DJ looked out across the crowd satisfied that people were safe and turned on a different track. Sharp, painful sounds erupted from the speakers. Markus didn’t bring ear plugs. His knees collided with the concrete floor. Pain raced through his mind. He tried to block the sound out with his fingers. Darkness pressed in around his eyes as he howled in pain. A small firm hand grabbed his arm and drug him to his feet. Headphones were fit over his ears and the pain began to slowly fade and was replaced with a light euphoric feeling. The DJ looked into his eyes with sympathy, she mouthed the words “let’s go.” \n\nMarkus looked over his shoulder as the Censors broke into the building. Men in black uniforms, faces obscured by black helmets began chasing fleeing people. He saw a familiar face in the back. His heart dropped and he willed his legs to move faster. The DJ guided him through a small hidden door and into a shadow filled tunnel. They ran for what seemed like hours. Down twisting corridors and into dark alleys, into abandoned buildings. Markus had lost his bearings long ago. He had never been to the poor quarter before this night. She came to an abrupt stop outside of a large sewer grate. Her breaths coming in sharp ragged gasps. The metal grate scraped against the pavement. Markus jumped back at the sudden movement. The grate slid open. A bald head poked out of the opening. \n\n“What took you so long Red?” Came a gruff, angry voice.\n\n“Had to make sure we weren’t followed.” Red said trying to catch her breath.\n\nThe bald head turned toward Markus. His dark eyes stared him up and down.\n\n“Who’s the kid?” He asked. \n\n“My guest, now move so we don’t get caught standing in the open talking like idiots!” Red whispered harshly.\n\nThe bald head disappeared into the hole. \n\n“After you.” She said gesturing toward the hole.\n\nMarkus swallowed nervously and crawled into the dark depths.\n\nThe smell of the sewer assaulted Markus’s nose. He held back a gag and tried to ignore it. \n\n“Thank you for saving me.”\n\n“Don’t thank me yet Markus.” Red replied firmly.\n\n“How? How do you know my name?” He asked. His voice wavering slightly.\n\nShe kept walking forward ignoring his question. The bald man leading them through the narrow passageways. He came to a stop in front of a large metal door. The heavy door swung open revealing a well-lit room bustling room full of people. Red pushed him through the doorway.\n\n“Welcome to the Resistance Markus.” Her became voice low and dangerous.\n\n \n\n", ">Music, music never changes. \n>Music is a drug. \n\nOur parents talk about a time of great deluge, when everyone was allowed to listen to music. The madness, its hard to think of a government which will today allow their own public to be exposed to such an activity. Ever since the Nobel Prize winning paper named \"Music & Mind Control\" was released, governments quickly acted to gain full control over music. It was too dangerous in the wrong hands. Men, women and children lined outside the government officiated centers to be enlisted. One particularly poetic journalist had mentioned the Philip Larkin as he quoted him expressing the loss of innocence Britain had undergone due to the World War. Music once merry, was not going to be so ever. \n\nWhat followed was a spate of monstrous experiments to determine which particular genre exhibited the maximum amount of control characteristics. Millions were rounded up in a historically unprecedented event. Many compared it to the human rights violations of the Nazis as people walked through streets in control of rock, grunge, jazz and the occasional bluegrass. What the experiment concluded was something no one was expecting, a particular demographic association to music. \n\nThis prompted another round of intense investigation into the demographics and their particular mind control receptiveness to different kinds of music. China in a surprise attack, using its bases in Cuba blared the loudest rendition of Beiber songs (who was kidnapped during the Second Coming of China) and turned millions of girls against the United States, making them commit heinous acts of violence and vandalism across the nation. \n\nThe resulting army response from US was met with failure as China implemented a state-wide ban on listening, ushering in the era of the Great Silence. This move reinvigorated the nature of the state debate as people argued how much were they willing to give up to the state. \n\nThe latest Presidential elections have a surprise frontrunner, a man who claims he can soundproof the entire United States and make China pay for it. He wants to make America great. There is hope for people. But in this new era of warfare I am saddened, as missiles are filled with sounds and released over the earth, environmentalists complain about the hitherto unforeseen increase in the sound levels of the entire planet. Migratory animals are losing their way and bats have been observed to frequently fly into things and die. Even if we survive through this era of warfare, their is considerable skepticism regarding the planet making it through. \n\nI write this as the final note in my journal as war has been declared on my nation. I can faintly hear jazz, which is the weakness of my demographic, I lost my grandfather to it. I am strangely happy about it, for once I can listen to jazz again. I hope I have the courage to kill myself before the mind is completely taken over. \n\nMind is such a fickle thing, I hope my courage isn't." ]	2
	[WP] "I never thought salvation would come in the form of an eight-year-old girl."	[ "I never thought salvation would come in the form of an eight-year-old girl. \n\nThere she was: all four feet and seventy odd pounds of her. Not what I expected from the pounding my front door had just received. \n\n\"Can I help y-\"\n\"You gotta help me!\"\n\"Woah, woah. What's the p-\"\n\"NOW!\"\n\nShe whips around and runs off my porch. I hesitate, and might have even gone back inside, if not for her sudden halt, turn, and glare to see if I was coming. So I followed her.\n\nI eventually caught up with her and, between puffs, was able to gasp out, \n\n\"Where are we going?!\"\n\"I don't know!\" Quickly flung back.\n\"What? WHAT? Wh-\"\n\"We're looking for my dog!\"\n\nThe rest of the chase was in silence. Chase is generous. More of a fast stumbling behind an impatient jog.\n\nPast houses, parks, and empty lots we \"ran.\" We even passed a few dogs. None of them were hers.\n\nI'm having trouble putting one foot in front of the other. But that's easy compared to trying to rationalize why I'm even out here. I don't know this kid. I sure don't know this dog. They're not important. \n\n\"THERE HE IS!\"\n\nAnd I'm back. Fast. Where is he?! \n\n\"He's over there! Don't scare him!\"\n\nWe slow down to a walk and head over towards a small, scrawny pup smaller than a cat. I make sure not to make any sudden movements. \n\n\"C'mere boy. That's it. Good boy.\" \n\nShe scoops him up and hugs him close. I wander in to scratch an ear or two.\n\n\"Thanks.\"\n\"You're welcome. Maybe get him a collar. And a leash.\" \n\"Ok. Thanks again.\" \n\nWalking back home makes me realize how long the journey was. Was it a waste? Why did she care so much? It's a dog. It'll wander home. Why is it so important? \n\nPriorities. \n\nI never thought salvation would come in the form of an eight-year-old girl.\n\n", "\"Close the ward! Close the fucking ward right now, goddamnit!\"\n\nNine fucking years of keeping this place safe and Jeff that brain-dead piece of shit border guard had to put his dick before all of our lives. His face when he brought the caravan to the door should have given him right away. \"I was amazed too, Mr. Preston, but I ran the test just like you told me and sure enough they're clean!\"\n\nHis smile was through the roof, those two women and that kid looked so desperate, and this is what I get for getting complacent and trusting the fucking idiot. He's writhing and convulsing on the floor of the ward, now. Serves him right.\n\nAnd now everything is going to fall apart. I slammed my fist against the linoleum wall, watching everyone barricade the ward doors with whatever they could find. Useless. Almost a whole decade I've managed to keep this place sane, and years before that I had this entire thing all planned out. I'd been thinking about this place as a bug-out-shelter for even longer.\n\nThink about it. When you think salvation, you think cities. You think boats. You think the coast, the mountains, the military bases. You know where you don't think? Nebraska. Name a single feature of Nebraska. You can't.\n\nAnd Nebraskans don't care too much for the state either, not after the famine. The place was hemorrhaging people and the middle of it was just a giant dust bowl when I had the bright idea to maybe have a plan for when the world crossed the S-bend into the shit proper. A little bit of foresight goes a long way, and I was damn proud of myself.\n\nIt wasn't hard to find a no-name T-town built off an ancient railway, all but abandoned. The land was insanely cheap, the hospital was condemned, what better place could you ever think of for setting up your little pre-apocalyptic bunker? It was always going to be one thing or another. I tell the family once I've got it set up and livable, come clean about how I was actually laid off years ago and my 'business trips' were all spent here. Spent all our savings, everyone called me crazy. Well, who's dead now? Not me. It's not like money can buy anything anymore anyway.\n\nI stumbled out into the evening haze and sat my ass down on a milk crate in the courtyard. Brown grass crunched under my feet as my legs bounced of their own accord. I glanced up at the ramshackle radio tower we built, I built. It was a good run. If you're smart enough to figure out where we are from that transmitter, then you're smart enough to join the club. Jeff had just come along for the ride, tailgating off his parents' knowledge. And it's not like we could afford to turn people away if they seemed healthy.\n\nIt's devious, you see, but easily detectable. The prions slough off as many cells as they can to spread as far and wide as possible, but that only happens when the disease is active. I could recite the CDC pamphlet by heart at this point, and anyone still alive at this point probably could too. The disease is active when it comes across uninfected cells. So the CDC, bless their hearts, said to take a cotton swab and put a little cheek scraping of your uninfected self into the mouth of someone you suspect. We found that sneezing a lot directly into someone's face worked just as well. It had to be direct, though, or you run the risk of a false negative. It's not like cotton swabs were in high supply almost a decade after the apocalypse.\n\nIf they're infected, within half an hour they start sweating like crazy, tears and noses start running, anything to shed as many prion-carrying cells around as possible. You come into contact with any of that stuff, you're dead as a doornail. You try and wait it out, it's like trying to wait out the lead in your water. Not gonna happen. \n\nAnd it's all my fault, really. Jeff, the dumb piece of shit, he might have actually believed they were clean, and it's not like you can trust a fourteen-year-old to not bend the rules a little when there're two desperate women offering you anything to get into a safe haven. Hell, they might not have even known. \n\nCharlie comes up behind me and taps me on the shoulder. She says the ward's all locked up, what should we do now. Charlie's not dumb. She knows we're all dead. When Jeff's uninfected cells 'came into contact' with the newcomers after we all thought they were clean. They started spewing everywhere across the camp. It's invisible, all over everywhere; in the air, on the walls, in our bodies. We haven't got long, any of us. I tell her she damn well knows what the plan is when this happens, and she goes off to fetch the gasoline for tomorrow.\n\nSomehow, I had fallen asleep on that milk crate, palms on my eyes, elbows on my knees. I found myself some time after midnight, woken up by the sound of crying coming muffled from the hospital. You learn to sleep lightly, here. \n\nBut there shouldn't be anyone alive in that room anymore. I snap to attention and crunch my way across the lawn. There shouldn't be anyone alive, and yet I stare through the plexiglass on the ward doors and there's the kid, the kid they brought with them, screaming at me in a room full of death. She's not dead. \n\nNow, I lied when I said I memorized the whole CDC release. But in the stirrings of my mind I recalled faintly a footnote, something about a counter-protein. Something about tricking the disease into thinking you're infected. Something about shutting down the prions active in your body. A pipe dream, then. \n\nIt's all in the brain, you see, because that's where the hormones to get the sweat started and the noses running and the prion factories pumping comes from. Something about inoculation with this counter-protien, something about immunity. I never thought salvation would come in the form of an eight-year-old girl.\n\nI grab a crowbar, bash off the boards holding the door, and she comes running out, glad to be out of that hellhole. \n\nI've been surviving this hell for longer than she's been alive, and I sure as hell am going to see the sunrise. All I need to do is get to that brain, and we're all saved.\n\nI bash her skull in." ]	2
	[WP] Tell me a story from a world where arranged marriages have made a huge comeback in the west, and is swiftly becoming the most popular way to find a partner	[ "I looked around the office, trying to control the anxiety building up inside my chest. Just breathe, Jake, I told myself. You're just here to find out how it works. You haven't signed anything, haven't agreed to anything yet.\n\nWhoever designed the office, at least, had been well aware of the anxiety that its visitors might feel. Most of the walls were paneled in dark wood, and a large fountain in the middle of the room sent a small waterfall cascading down amid lush green vegetation. I felt more like I'd accidentally stepped into a spa, or perhaps an upscale massage parlor, rather than a dating service.\n\n\"Jake Hoffman?\"\n\nI glanced up at my name, and saw a tall, efficient-looking brunette in a tightly tailored navy suit looking back at me. \"Yeah,\" I said, rising up from the low bench where I'd been sitting and gazing blearily into the stream of falling water. \"That's me.\"\n\nShe smiled at me, an efficient and businesslike smile that she'd probably practiced a thousand times in the mirror. \"Right this way, Mr. Hoffman.\"\n\nI followed behind the woman as we headed down a corridor, presumably towards her office. I tried to keep my eyes up, not letting them stray down to her pert little ass, snugly bound in her pencil skirt. I doubted that the employees put themselves into the dating pools. \n\nThe woman led me into an office, where I took a seat in front of a large desk as she closed the door. \"So, Mr. Hoffman,\" she said, slipping back around to sit across from me. \"What brings you to Set For Life?\"\n\nThe question I'd been dreading. I shrugged, trying to look casual. \"I guess I just haven't been having much success on my own in the dating game, and a couple of my buddies raved about this place-\"\n\n\"Those would be Kyle and Alexis Harris, yes?\" the woman interrupted, glancing down at the chart she'd laid on the desk in front of her.\n\nI started. \"Uh, yeah, that's them. How'd you know-\"\n\n\"We do our research, Mr. Hoffman,\" the woman answered me before I'd finished the question. \"There's a reason why we're able to guarantee that our arranged marriages are successful - we know they'll work.\"\n\nThere it was. Arranged marriage. Something that would be considered unthinkable just a couple of decades earlier, now considered commonplace and totally ordinary. And people were choosing it, more and more - I was finally convinced to come in to Set For Life after reading about how their IPO topped five billion. \n\n\"So are you, like, my case agent?\" I asked.\n\nThe woman smiled, and stood up to hold her hand out across the desk to me. \"I'm Gena Davis, Mr. Hoffman. And yes, if you choose to employ us, I'll be the one working with you.\"\n\nI took the hand, trying not to grip it too tightly. She felt warm, fragile, like a songbird. \"Nice to meet you, Gena. I guess I'm just not fully sold yet.\"\n\n\"Well, I'll be happy to help steer you in the right direction,\" Gena said. She smiled at me, revealing a perfect row of brilliantly whitened teeth. \"I can start off with a number, perhaps - thirty-four percent.\"\n\n\"What's that?\"\n\n\"That,\" Gena replied, still smiling, \"is the percentage of single individuals in the United States who are currently using a dating service. Nearly twenty percent of all singles in the US are signed with Set For Life. That's a lot of potential mates, Mr. Hoffman.\"\n\nI nodded - I hadn't realized that the market was so big. \"Right, but it just scares me. Marriage, that is. I mean, it's forever! What happens if the woman changes, doesn't stay the same?\"\n\nGena smiled. \"Mr. Hoffman, you're not the same person that you were ten years ago, are you?\"\n\n\"Well, no, but-\"\n\n\"Everybody changes, Mr. Hoffman.\" She leaned forward, interlacing her fingers on the desk in front of her. \"But we find someone who changes along with you, someone who grows as you grow, who will mature in the same way that you mature. We can find someone who's perfect for you now, but also in the future, many years down the road.\"\n\nI opened my mouth, but then closed it. Wow, that did sound perfect. \"But I have to pay for this?\"\n\n\"Only if we succeed, Mr. Hoffman.\" Gena's smile kept on radiating out at me, pure white and almost blinding. \"As you know, we do take a tithe from our married members, but we won't charge you a single cent unless you're happy. You've heard our guarantee.\"\n\nIndeed, I had - on the radio, on television, on billboards, from friends. It was part of the reason I was here. \"We only charge for happiness,\" I repeated.\n\nShe nodded. \"Now, we'll have some tests for you, of course, but nothing today. All I need to know is if you're interested.\"\n\nI took a deep breath, and then took the plunge. \"Yeah, okay. I'm interested.\"\n\nHer smile didn't waver. \"Wonderful, Mr. Hoffman. I can assure you that you're making the right choice. You won't find anyone out there who speaks badly of us.\"\n\n\"Yeah, right,\" I said, as I followed Gena's pert little butt back out to the entrance to the Set For Life office. \"Great. Uh, call me when you've got a wife for me.\"\n\nGena's laugh tinkled after me as she held the door open. \"Relax, Mr. Hoffman. You're in for a long life of happiness, now that you've signed on with us.\" She winked at me as I left. \"We guarantee it.\"\n\n****\n\nWant more? Well, I haven't written any - but you can read other stories of mine at /r/Romanticon.*", "I had decided it was time to be married, and thankfully my phone agreed. I held it and watched as she calculated the likelihood of success with the bachelors in my city. The hope of a bright future and children made me realize that we should have probably had this conversation earlier. It only took about 15 minutes before siri had an answer for me. He was handsome, had a great credit rating, and a schedule that very closely coincided with mine. I was told he would be at my childhood church at 5pm on Saturday. She told me where my dress would be, had an appointment booked at the spa, and informed me that one of my best friends was in the hospital, and suggested an alternate bride's maid. I accepted her choices as always. \n\nAlmost all of my contacts confirmed the appointment, and his giest list grew almost as quickly. Now all I had to do was reply to all the congratulation texts and wait.", "\"It's not so bad, Jess. He's handsome, wealthy. Fit as they come, we trust him to protect you. You know that we only want the best for you, and he's an obvious choice.\" \n\nI squirmed as my mother worked behind me, lacing a silky strand of ribbon up the back of my wedding dress. My sobs and protests had devolved into the occasional quiet gasp as I struggled to hold back the unending river of tears that seemed to press outwards against my eyes. \n\n\"I can't, I don't want to,\" I managed to rasp as I felt my corset tightening. \"Don't you hear me? This isn't what I want!\" \n\nMother sighed, placed her hands on my shoulders, spun me around to face her. She stood two heads taller than I did at 16, and when she grabbed me by the chin and pulled me up to bring my face closer to hers, I had to stand on the tips of my toes to keep from falling.\n\n\"You'll not ruin this for your father and I. You may not think it so no, but Jack is your best and only option. He'll take care of you. Maybe it was strange a hundred years ago, but not now, we aren't so simple minded these days. Now go. He'll be waiting for you.\" \n\nHer nails threatened to dig into the soft flesh below my chin, so I relented, falling back onto the soles of my feet with a sigh of relief as I took the strain of my weight off if my toes. I nodded silently, and before I went, mother dabbed at the corners of my eyes with her kerchief, wiping away what felt like a month's worth of tears. I turned to leave the room and caught sight of my father, who took my arm in his and led me to the entrance to the chapel. We were both solemn and silent. \n\nAs we entered the building, at least 300 years old, organ music erupted from all around us, and the quiet chatter of the wedding guests ended as abruptly as the music had began. As we walked down the aisle towards my husband-to-be, I could hear people cooing and giggling behind us as the flower girl dropped petals of beautiful red roses in our wake. I felt beautiful and loved. The church was perfect, the guests loved us so. There was to be a gorgeous reception following our vows. It was all perfect.\n\nI allowed my eyes to meet those of my future husband, Jack. His deep cobalt blues, always watching over his sweet smile. He stood proud as any man could, watching his young bride approach in a dress worth more than most of the guest's homes. My heart ached as his seemed to swell. I remember the times when we were children, watching goofy cartoons together, or playing tag out in the yard. I remember when I had fallen as a little girl and turned my ankle, and he had carried me the entire three mile trek home because it hurt me to walk. \n\nThe tears threatened to come, but I couldn't let them. Even as I remembered as far back as I could; I may have been three at most, and he five, back when our parents still bathed us, my hand was tightening around the detonator I'd slipped into the sleeve of my dress.\n\nOf course I love my brother. I love him as deeply as a sister can, but I cannot be his wife. \n\nFather and I reached the altar, where I halted and wrenched my arm free of his, before the priest began to speak. The guests gasped collectively and I held the detonator, a small cylinder with a shining red button at it's end, high above my head. My heart shattered as I watched my brother's eyes widen in terror, and as I pressed the button, the rest of the world seemed to shatter as well, and everything went dark. " ]	3
	[WP] A couple brings a baby into a motel room. The baby isn't theirs.	[ "INT. MOTEL - DAY\nDEAN is trying to calm down BOBBY JOHN, who is crying loudly. There is a knock on the door. \n\nMANAGER\nManager! Everything okay in there? \n\nDEAN\nYeah, no, we're fine. Thank you. Good night. \n\nMANAGER\nThere's been complaints. Mind opening the door, sir? \n\nDEAN\nIt's not a good time. Just got out of the shower. \n\nThe doorknob rattles. DEAN puts BOBBY JOHN in the crib and stands to the side of the door. The door unlocks and the SHAPESHIFTER, still disguised as a police officer, enters the room. DEAN attacks him and they grapple. DEAN is pushed back. \n\nSHAPESHIFTER\nGet out of the way. \n\nDEAN\nYeah, that's not going to happen. \n\nSHAPESHIFTER\nThat child should be with his father. \n\nDEAN\nWow, I gotta be honest. I'm not really seeing the family resemblance. \n\nSHAPESHIFTER\nI'm not just talking about me. I'm talking about our father. \n\nThe SHAPESHIFTER moves to attack, and DEAN punches him and slashes him across the face with a silver knife. They continue to fight and DEAN is thrown back on the ground. SAM enters the motel room and shoots the SHAPESHIFTER through the heart, killing him. \n\nDEAN\nWell, there goes our deposit.\n\n\nINT. SAM'S CAR\nSAM is driving. DEAN sits next to him in the passenger seat. BOBBY JOHN is sleeping in the back seat. \n\nSAM\nYou know, it's pretty smart, actually. I mean, shifter poses as a guard for the security company to get near the house. Then it scopes out the fam. \n\nDEAN\nYeah, and then daddy takes off, and shifter becomes daddy. A few glasses of wine, shakes momma's trees, comes back in nine months to collect its prize. \n\nSAM\nI didn't even know they had babies. I thought they were just freaks of nature, like X-Men style. \n\nDEAN\nYou learn something new every day, huh? \n\nSAM\nI've never seen a baby monster before. \n\nDEAN\nOf course it's not really a monster. I mean, it's still just a baby. It's not its fault its dad's a shifter. \n\nSAM\nRight, but it's a shifter, too. \n\nDEAN\nStill doesn't change the fact that we've got to look after this thing. I mean, what the hell are we going to do with it? We can't actually drop it off at an orphanage. They might get upset when it turns Asian. \n\nSAM\nSamuel. \n\nDEAN\nWhat? \n\nSAM\nSamuel. He'll know what to do. \n\nDEAN\nYou want to bring it to a bunch of hunters? \n\nSAM\nNot just hunters, Dean. They're our family. \n\nDEAN\nWe don't know them. \n\nSAM\nI do. Not every hunter is a head case. I mean, Samuel is actually a lot like you. \n\nDEAN\nI'm a freaking head case. \n\nSAM\nWell, pitch a better idea then. \n\nDEAN stays silent. \n\nSAM (CONT'D)\nGreat! Samuel, it is. ", "\"We did the right thing, Tom!\" a woman's voice echoed from the small motel bathroom.\n\n\"The right thing? The right thing would have been to call the damn police and let them sort it out. This isn't the right thing, and you know it, Susan! This is a felony,\" he replied.\n\nTom looked gaunt in the cheap yellow light coming from the lamp attached to the wall. His salt and pepper hair was frayed and unkempt, and his middle aged body hung slightly, like a heavy weight was bearing down on his shoulders. He pulled back the curtain of the window slightly and peered outside, quickly scanning the parking lot for signs of commotion. His eyes darted back and forth a few more times before he pushed back behind the safety of the thick paisley cloth.\n\n\"I don't understand how we could have been so stupid,\" he said.\n\n\"That woman was a monster, Tom. You saw her. You saw her hit him, a child, a fucking baby for Christ's sake\".\n\nSusan turned the corner into the main room and sat down on the corner of the bed. Her dirty blonde hair fell off her shoulders in a loose, low pony-tail. Though she was in her early fifties, she looked to be in her late twenties. Susan was had sharp features, her Russian ancestry shined through more and more each year.\n\"I know,\" said Tom. \"I know she didn't deserve that kid, but that doesn't excuse what we did\", he raised his voice. Susan began a retort but was cut off by a small cry from the bathroom. She gave Tom a harsh eye and stood, rushing to the back room to calm the baby.\n\nTom stepped into the doorway, placing a hand on the frame and watched his wife begin to hum a melody to sooth the screaming. They had always wanted a child of their own. So many failed attempts flashed into his mind. the medications, treatments to help fertilization, all for nothing. The thought about the baby, a pale skinned boy with a swollen belly and bright green eyes. The baby has jet black wisps of hair going in several directions, and clearly needed a bath and a new diaper due to the neglect of its mother.\n\nHe caught himself in these thoughts. His wife had acted brashly. This was supposed to be a cheap vacation trip to the mountains, not a run from the cops. Four hundred miles from home in a shitty little gas station his wife had grabbed the child as an instinct when she saw the mother strike it and raise her hand for another swing for nothing more than crying too loud. She had run out to the car and jumped in, still clutching the baby, sobbing in her arms without thought to the consequences. Tom had acted just as brash when he floored their tiny little hybrid and pulled off into the motel a few towns over.\n\nThere was no going back from this. Their lives would be ruined, they would be shunned from the community, or go to prison. The mother was obviously on drugs and in no shape to raise a child. She probably would even call the cops right? She was more worried about her comfort than the baby to begin with, he thought.\nA few minutes passed in silence or than Susan's gentle humming. She rocked the baby to sleep after cleaning it off wrapping it in a small blanket. He cleared his throat softly, trying not to wake the child. Susan looked up to him. She was glowing he noticed, a small smile was etched into her face. the smile of a new mother.\n\n\"We don't have a choice,\" he said. \"We have to keep him, we have to move, to find a new home and raise our child, we cannot let him fall back to that woman or be a victim of the foster system, I refuse it. We have to make him our son. Susan; no one can ever know. No one can ever find out what we have done.\"\n", "It all started when my wife, Janet, wanted a kid. I was ecstatic and thought, 'Finally, I get to be a dad and get my kid interesting in Pokemon and D&D.' So, anyway, we tried for 2 years, doing everything we could. IVF, copious amounts of sex :), hormone treatments, voodoo, psychics, everything. We decided to finally visit an out-of-town doctor. However, the news was not good. The doctor told us that everything we did made Janet infertile.\n\nWe both froze and were shocked at the news. As we were leaving the hospital, we saw an unattended baby in a car seat, outside the gift shop.\n\n\"Ryan, get the car. I'll grab the baby and we run for it.\" Janet whispered to me.\n\nI, being in a state of shock still, from the earlier news, mumbled \"Ok.\"\n\nI walked out the door, went to the car and pulled it up to the front, still in a daze. Janet ran up, opened the door, and got in holding the car seat.\n\n\"GO, GO, GO!!!\" Janet yelled.\n\nI left at a nice, slow pace. This was to avoid suspicion of just having stolen a baby from a hospital.\n\n\"WHY AREN'T YOU GOING FASTER THAN 30???\" Janet yelled at me.\n\n\"Shut up, Janet. You'll wake the baby. I am going 30 because that is the last thing the police will look for.\" \n\n\"Ok, fine.\" Janet said, as she continued to hold the baby.\n\n30 minutes later, we arrived at our hotel. I told Janet to come with me and we went in the side door. Finally, we walked down the hall into our room. \n\nWe opened the door and someone was sitting on the bed, waiting for us...", "“I know..I KNOW!” Shelagh shouted, a cigarette dangling from her lips, the ash falling haphazardly on the carpet. Patrick with his smart suit was sitting on the bed wringing his hat. “Where did the baby come from, Shelagh, I won’t ask again,” his tone was firm and it startled the contented baby into a fit of wails.\n\n“Oh look what you’ve done!” she mumbled as the young woman quickly stubbed out her cig reached for the child. Shelagh cradled the babe to her, cooing it back into submission. \n\nPatrick couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Tell me again, this time, slower. Where. Did. The. Baby. Come. From?”\n\nShelagh bit her lip before taking a deep breath. “Remember when I said I was going to the pool earlier when you left for the conference? Well, I was laying there sunbathing, minding my own business when I hear a wail.” Patrick already didn’t like where this was heading.\n\n“You won’t believe it Patrick, someone had just left this poor little man out in his pram in the baking hot sun! You see how red he is!” She did have a point, the child’s color slightly resembled that of a lobster. “I called around at anyone who was out, but he didn’t belong to anyone. I couldn’t just leave him.”\n\n“We need to call the police…” Patrick insisted, looking at the cute little baby who was now happily asleep. \n\n“Can’t I just keep him for tonight? He looks like Fredrick….” She said softly, and Patrick couldn’t help but feel his resolve melt a little. “Fine, just for the night. First thing, we’re phoning the police.”\n", "\"Don't look at me, I didn't bring him in here.\" Said Martha, leaning over the nightstand to collect her earrings from the night before. They were embedded point down into the carpet, left that way as Jim carried her into the motel, sweeping her off her feet and into the scratchy bed. They hadn't even stopped to remove her dress- that had come off between the sheets, between sighs and moans of drunken pleasure.\n\n\"Well I sure as fuck didn't get him with the morning paper.\" Retorted Jim, holding a hand to his head, and squinting in the light coming through the crack in the window curtains.\n\nIn their half drunken state, the baby crying on the ground was a nuisance. Something that sharpened the pain in their heads, that lanced into the hangover. Certainly, it was not part of their reality. And certainly, it wasn't their job.\n\nJim glanced at the door, where the deadbolt was still in place, and frowned. There were no other entrances to the room, no space between the beds- Hell, the cheap motel didn't even have a closet. The baby had to have been there when they arrived. Somehow, they had to have missed it when they stumbled in, drunk. \n\nThey had to.\n\n\"Well then, what the Hell are we going to do about it,\" Said Martha, lighting a cigarette. Some smoke trickled down to where the baby lay, but Martha didn't mind. She was no mother. And frankly, she wasn't in the mood for pretending.\n\n\"I say we leave it.\"\n\n\"Leave it, Jim? What, are we just playing a game of pass the baby now?\"\n\n\"Well, what do you suppose we do then?\"\n\n\"Report it to the authorities, of course.\"\n\n\"Martha, are we going to sit here and pretend that you don't have four warrants out for you arrest, and that I have six? That's in this state alone. There's no way in Hell I am calling the police.\"\n\n\"Fine then, we leave it. Happy now? You were right.\"\n\nJim sighed, and started to pack his suitcase. Two layers of clothes were on top, and after that, money.\n\nLayers upon layers of money. More than a man with Jim's upbringing should ever have. And precisely the amount that had been taken from Memphis City Bank's vaults seventy two hours before, minus the amount for gas, liquor, and cigarettes. \n\nThey left at eleven, the baby untouched on the floor, Jim unbolting the door. And as he opened it, and sunlight hit his already sensitive eyes, he was met with a new face, one with a thick accent.\n\n\"Housekeeping!\" Said the maid, \"So happy you are leaving, it's time to prepare the room! We're running behind today.\"\n\nShe bustled into the room as Jim and Martha stepped out, and started to rush down the stairs.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" She called after them, \"You forgot something!\"\n\nWith a frown, Jim turned to Martha. And Martha turned to Jim. Then he walked back up the stairs, took the bundle in the maid's arms, and walked to the car.\n\nThey left the hotel after each of them took two whiskey pulls to fend off the dregs of the hangover. \n\nOne Cadillac, minus a rear bumper.\n\nOne hundred thousand dollars in cash.\n\nAnd one baby.\n\nA baby that laughed as they sped away, gurgling with joy. And staring at the suitcase in the back seat.\n\n***\n\nBy Leo\n\n\n\n\n" ]	5
	[WP] You just died and have arrived in the afterlife. It is eternal, and you can watch life on Earth. However, humanity activated a drug that has been put into bottled water for years, and causes eternal life. You are the last person to ever die.	[ "Its not entirely unpleasant to be dead, not really. Not exactly what I had in mind, Although I suppose I was overly optimistic when I felt enough faith to convince myself there was an afterlife. I can't eat anything, or breath really, or masturbate (or fuck other ghosts, for that matter), but I don't really...want to do that anymore.\n\nBasically, our more distant ancestors seem to have a better idea of what happens when death occurs: our minds wander. Its as if I see the entire world through my mind's eye, like its something I imagine from a vivid description in a story. my fellow dead souls are even less defined, but we have had some meaningful communication.\n\nI'm even something of a celebrity around here, last man to ever die; and first in about 25 years. people always talk about Ambrodile like its some unprecedented breakthrough, but in all honesty medical technology was damn near perfect when I bought the farm.\n\nWhere was I? Oh yes, my family seems happy. I always remember my dad telling me that in a hundred years he'd still be watching after me from heaven, and I suppose I've taken to the same task with my own kids. Their 156 and 219, both fairly successful. Matilda, the older one, has already used what's likely the only reproductive right she'll receive this millennium on a beautiful granddaughter. I do enjoy watching them, sometimes my own parents joining me as we admire our child from beyond a 2-way mirror, discussing who has who's body parts she has most clearly, trying to catch up with the family by listening in, and generally making conversation.\n\nSometimes I do feel cheated, as I have no idea if I'll ever be able to talk to my children. some of the older Ghosts Wandering The Night still seem convinced that virgin sacrifice works and mathematics don't, so it seems we can last quite a while before we become Truly Lost.\n\nI do love my children, and I would never do anything to harm them (Not that I can), but they do so dearly miss me. I try my hardest to embrace them sometimes, and once in a blue moon they dream of grand emptiness and I can see them again, smile at them, tell them I love them and everything will be OK. I don't know if they remember in the morning, but for brief flashes they are my babies once again.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You make a deal with the devil. However, you incorporate every detail big or small into the contract.	[ "We sat surprisingly close to one another, though at intentionally varied, and thus odd, angles, at the long table. Between us, though closer to him than me, was a stack of surprisingly crisp and white vellum sheets, over which his fingers, shadowed despite the cold light, were poised, spider-like. “So, what do you want?” he asked, in a professionally chipper manner.\n\n“I was thinking,” I began, “I know you're going to screw me over somehow,” at this, he smiled. Good, it was working, appealing to his pride, they did say it was his vice. “So, how about this? And you did say I could have anything I wanted, so please hold your protestations till you get back up Earth’s ass. I want you to hook your mind, wherever it operates from, up to the contract. Every time you think of something I forgot and you get that smug look on your brimstone blackened face, I want a protection against it added to the terms.”\n\nHe grumbled slightly, twitched his fingers and papers began to singe at the edges. Variegated tides of gray, black, and brown surged across the leaves, giving them the appearance of veins. Lines of small, neat print were scorched into the paper, I could just about read them over his hunched form, from which the spine was beginning to protrude. After a while, he straightened up and exhaled, his work done.\n\nAt this, I got up and pushed in my chair, hearing the scuffing noise against the Persian carpet. A cloud of sulphur was beginning to form where he sat, wrapping around his legs, (and the barbed tail that had suddenly materialized between them), then his torso, then his neck, then his face. As the haze obscured his face, I could just make out a hint of a sharp toothed smile, from which a hesitant, hissing, scraping laugh was beginning to escape.\n\n“Hey, Matlock!” his half-tangible afterimage said, “I wanted to let you know,” now the ghost of a laugh grew louder on the fetid air, “you forgot to ask for something, so much for trying to trip me up. Next time, remember that Satan meant Prosecutor once upon a time!” At this, the copy of the contract he had left behind (and, I could swear, the one in his back pocket), came alive with a deliberate crackling that bore down on the pages. With that, my family was safe.\n\n“Oh good, it works!” I said as he surged out of the room and I walked out the door, closing it behind me.\n", "\"I'd sell my soul for another bite of that cheesecake\" is, in fact, enough of a wager to warrant a visit from the devil. After hours, of course. I'd mumbled the reply after finishing a shared dessert on my date with Carin, who was currently laying beside me in bed. I'd heard the hoofsteps coming up the stairs to my bedroom and assumed it must have been a sleep paralysis hallucination. If only I were so lucky. \n\n\"Knock knock, kiddo,\" a voice came from outside my door. \"I've got something I think you'll like.\" \n\nIn walked the devil, forked tail and hooved feet, just as you'd imagine. Perhaps a bit shorter in person, though. In one hand he had a slice of fresh strawberry cheesecake - the same type I'd eaten just hours before at The Cheesecake Factory.\n\n\"Hi there,\" I said. \n\n\"I heard you earlier, Kevin. 'I'd sell my soul for another bite of that cheesecake.' I think we can work out a deal.\" He set the slice on my stomach, and slid a metal fork into my hand. \n\n\"You really think I'm going to sell my soul for cheesecake?\" I asked.\n\n\"No, but I do think we could make some sort of deal.\" The devil said. \n\n\"What do you get out of it?\" I asked.\n\n\"Nothing. Well, almost nothing. You'll have to find that out. Try the cheesecake, really.\"\n\n\"It can't be poisoned.\" I said. \n\nHe shook his head, \"Of course not.\"\n\n\"No one dies from me eating this cheesecake. Like, the fork doesn't get stuck in the garbage disposal tomorrow morning and Carin doesn't disastrously try to get it unstuck with her bare hand only to be left with a mangled stump.\"\n\n\"I wish I'd thought of that one,\" the devil replied. \"I'll agree to it, though.\"\n\n\"And I get to eat it. Me. I eat the cheesecake.\"\n\n\"That's why we're here. Carin's a little greedy with desserts now, isn't she?\"\n\nI ignored him. \"I don't chip a tooth on the fork, either. Or break the plate and then accidentally cut my foot. No one's maimed.\"\n\n\"No, no.\"\n\n\"And it won't affect my health in any way. Like the cheesecake won't be laden with some ungodly amount of calories that will make me gain a pound. And it can't be the last straw for diabetes.\"\n\n\"Can't guarantee the calorie thing - do you know what they use to make those? It's the same cheesecake as before though, I'll agree to that.\"\n\n\"Not exactly the same cheesecake. I don't want any traces of bile in this.\"\n\n\"You're disgusting.\"\n\nI sat there and looked down at the cheesecake. It seemed safe enough. The devil watched me watching the cheesecake. I felt a slight burning in my chest, as a smile spread across his face. \n\n\"Fine,\" I said. I took a bite, and he disappeared. Carin woke up then.\n\n\"Kevin,\" she said. \"You're eating cheesecake in bed.\"\n\n\"I know,\" I said. \"I... uh... got some to go. When you were in the bathroom. You didn't see me carry it to the car?\"\n\n\"I guess I missed it,\" she replied. \"Well, are you going to share?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" I said. I'd thought of everything, surely there wasn't any harm in spreading the joy of cheesecake in bed. I handed her the fork and watched her taste it. \n\n\"It's really good,\" she said, her mouth full with the bite. \"Can I have more?\" \n\nI watched as she ate the rest of the slice. Somehow, I'd been unable to protest in any way. I felt my anger building as I watched Carin daintily stuff her face with my cheesecake.\n\n\"You're the sweetest.\" she whispered as she pulled the plate from my stomach and set it on the bedside table.\n\nI'd managed exactly one bite which was, after all, what I'd asked for. At least the devil was a man of his word.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are a police sketch artist by day, and expert serial killer by night. But, last night, you made a mistake and left a witness. This morning you are called to the scene of the crime to sketch the person the witness saw.	[ "I don't know what I had expected. I mean, leave a witness, show up the next day and try to pass yourself off as someone else. At first it wasn't going so bad, though. But when we got around to the finer details of facial structure, her gaze became elongated and the eyebrows started to furrow ever so slightly. I really should have left then. Faked a need to pee, gone out the window and started over somewhere else. But I didn't, because what can be more suspicious than that? This is an all or nothing game I'm playing, no half ass-ing or backing out. I decided to stick it out, pretending not to notice and prompting her to remember extra fake details. Gosh, what a mess. And then I knew. I knew she knew; she looked around the room taking inventory of the rest of the guys. I had no choice then, she had put me in the position. What I had to do wasn't pretty, wasn't meaningful and really didn't get me anywhere, but man I had fun. The look on peoples' faces when realization dawns is like no other, and hers (as well as the guys') was no exception. Sure, now I'm in a predicament; Video recording, the rest of the force racing towards the scene, neighbors pooling across the street (shots do that), and nowhere to go, but I had a hell of a good time. Things went slow mo, and the slaughter was like no other. All the guys in the room, and they might as well just lined up, the way I took 'em out! Never seen so much blood either, although the sprays on the wall bring back memories. Never thought i'd go this way, but it's better than the ends of other guys I've helped bring in. Gosh. But there's no way I'm being brought in. No way I'll be caught up by swat and that shit. Besides, I imagine a well placed bullet, exploding through my own head to paint the walls and floor, dot the ceiling and upholstery with specks and strings, could really make the room. I always did have a flair for art. ", "Thursday started off the same as it always does. Wake up at 8 am to sound of the neighborhood school bus sputtering past the front of my house, then morning coffee after a quick splash of water to the face to jolt myself to consciousness. I used to shower in the morning when I was younger, but these days I prefer to shower just before bed. The mix of sweat and blood I would leave on the sheets made cleaning up quite a chore. I tried wearing gloves, long sleeve shirts, etc, but it just didn't feel right. I loved the feeling of skin to skin contact as I would drain the life of another person. Of course, I had to clean up after myself and wipe down the body, but the pleasure was truly worth it.\n\nAnyways, the day went along as it always does until around noon. I was notified that there was a murder the town over and they had a witness who caught a glimpse. As I drove over to the neighboring police department, I recognized the same roads that I had driven down just 12 hours ago. How many murders can one small town have in a night? Do they know? I'm not one for panicking, but the thought elevated my heart rate by quite a bit. I had an agenda, and if I was stopped now, I will have failed my assignment. I mentally walked through last night's events and double checked that no one around the block had seen me enter, and no one had seen me leave. I was quite careful, and there was not a soul who could see me skirting through the shadows. My pride took over and calmed the rest of my body. Just a coincidence, I assured myself.\n\nI walked into the building with a slightly dry mouth, licking my lips a little too often for comfort. It was a bad habit I developed over the years, but I'm sure we all have our own nervous tics. As the secretary walked me over to a small room, she told me the witness was already in there waiting. I grinned and told her that I'll do my best to get the murderer using my artistic skills. She smiled back and said she hoped so. God she was so cute. Last time the police officers of the county had a huge cookout at a nearby state park, she and I both went. After a beer or five we ended up at my place and the rest wrote itself. Turns out she had a boyfriend who was an actual officer. Pretty sure he would legally bash my head in if he knew. So we kept it our little secret.\n\nAnyways I'm not here to share my life story nor my female conquests, just to tell you about a day that stood out from the daily ritual. I mean if you really want to know more, just turn a few pages back in this journal. I'm sure you'll find it quite easily.\n\nAnywho, I stepped in the room and took a seat across from a girl who couldn't be more than 16 years old. She looked eerily familiar but I couldn't place it. I had seen those eyes before.\n\nI quickly introduced myself and then got right into the business. As she started describing her version of the murderer, it hit me. I had seen pictures of her on the refrigerator and around the house last night. I remember her mother's eyes; they were this beautiful mix of gray and green that didn't seem human. I guess I was just too tired to realize.\n\nI let the girl finish as she tried to recall the details of the man sitting right across from her. I drew a mangled version of a self portrait on my sketchpad. I thanked her for her time, patience, and courage as I led her to the door. My legs buckled a bit. My nervousness had caught up to me. Maybe it was time to hang up the figurative knife. Maybe jail would be a good place for me to start reading again. How bad could it be? My real bosses couldn't get to me there, right?\n\nAfter she left I took the sketch down the hall to the detective's office. He sat up in his chair as I handed him the sketch. He glanced once at the piece of paper then back at me. \"Seems like she described you and you ended up drawing yourself. Are you the killer?\" he asked.\n\nI chuckled and responded, \"Yes sir, you absolutely got me,\" my voice laced with a bitter mix of honesty and sarcasm.\n\nHe just laughed and said, \"Hah, alright James. The poor girl was probably too flustered and didn't remember anything. She tried to remember details but since she was staring at you, that's all she could visualize. Just toss the sketch on your way out. What a waste of my time.\"", "I was at the station sketching \"myself\". It's fortunate that eye witnesses are terrible at remembering anything from the scene. The fact that the witness was six also helped. Her description was, as one would expect, quite vague. She mentioned the killer was big and had a scary laugh, but not much else. Sketching people for fifteen years made this an almost disappointingly trivial task. I tried to have a bit of fun and made the eyes, brow, and cheeks of the killer closely resemble the child's father. The rest came from past sketches and imagination.\n\nThe detectives went off to discuss the crime scene in an office near by. The girl sat quietly in a corner. I went back and looked over the crime scene as well. Other than leaving the girl alive, it was truly an artistic display I had put on. I had never used a cleaver before. As I recalled that stupid expression on the father's face, I let out a chuckle. I was a bit startled when the child started wailing like a mad man. The detectives rushed over to console her. Between her blubbering and gasping, she couldn't tell them what was wrong. She probably didn't even know.\n\nLeaving a witness was sloppy, but there wasn't any threat. And the amusement I received from toying with the child made up for the irritation I had felt. If it wasn't so reckless, I would do it again with careful planning." ]	3
Based on a dream I had last night.	[WP] A man awakens without any memory, completely alone, on a hot sunny day on the deck of a mid-sized sloop in the middle of an ocean. On his wrist he sees a simple tattoo bearing the text "REMEMBER: 3112."	[ "The cry of gulls overhead and a gentle rocking is what woke him up. The man groaned in pain, eyes fluttering open and rolled over. Blue skies and a sail greeted him and he sat up in alarm.\n\n\"What the--\"\n\nHe looked around him. How had he ended up on a sailboat in the middle of the ocean? There was no land in sight and his head ached. The man put his hand to his head, feeling a large lump. Rust colored flakes coated his fingers. Dried blood. He must have hit his head somehow. It was then he noticed gauze and tape around his wrist.\n\nPeeling off the bandage, it revealed a small tattoo on the inside of his wrist. The skin around the simple statement was red, indicating it was very recent. All the tattoo said was \"REMEMBER: 3112\" in bold, black lettering. The man stared at the phrase, thinking hard. It made no sense, but then again none of this did. He couldn't remember anything. His name, what he did, how he had gotten on the sloop. He knew he could navigate and sail the boat to get to land. But he couldn't remember anything about himself.\n\nThe man got to his feet and paced the deck of the sloop, the sun beating down on him. Before he did anything, he needed to find his way to land. Glancing around, he finally noticed a set of stairs leading below deck. He had been so distracted by his predicament, he had missed them. Taking them, he found himself in a small space with a table, bench and mini refrigerator. He grabbed a bottle of water and took several long pulls, draining it in seconds.\n\nThis was a fairly modern boat and the man assumed it would have a navigation system somewhere. Going through the open doorway next to the mini fridge, he found himself in what appeared to be a cramped bedroom. Sitting on the neatly made twin bed appeared to be a gray cell phone, .22 caliber pistol and a piece of paper. The man picked the electronic up. It was a Garmin GPSMAP 78 GPS. Well, this would be helpful. Picking up the handgun and feeling its weight, he threw a quick glance at the slip of paper. In the same bold handwriting as his tattoo, it read: \"This should help. Good luck, Poe.\"\n\nThe note wasn't signed and gave no other indications. Poe... The man thought the name seemed familiar but whether or not it was his first name or his last was still beyond him. The fact there was a gun sitting on the bed was unnerving, but he was positive he had used a similar gun before. Tucking it in his waistband, Poe powered up the GPS and headed up to the top deck, making his way to the wheel. He would figure out what had happened to him and why he had ended up on a sailboat in the middle of the ocean. One way or another.", "\"Hot.\" That was the first thought that went through Dwayne's mind as he slowly returned to consciousness.\n\n\"Bright.\" His eyes refused to open in the harsh sunlight. Not a cloud in the sky. The sun seemed to be radiating up from the ground around him.\n\nNot ground. Water. He could tell by the constant rocking. \n\n\"Sick.\" Dwayne leapt to his feet. The sloop swayed to one side, and he stumbled toward the edge, vomiting over the side. Wiping the remaining sick off of his mouth with the butt of his palm, he noticed what looked like a tattoo peeking out of the cuff of his sleeve. \n\n\"REMEMBER: 3112\"\n\nWhat the Hell was that supposed to mean? And how had he gotten on this damn boat? Dwayne tried to run through the last 24 hours in his mind. It had been a normal day. At 54, Dwayne had become accustomed to his routine. It kept him out of trouble and he rarely deviated. Suburban life. Office job. Hobbies. He was nearing retirement. He had been considering getting a boat like the one he currently occupied. Even went so far as to go shopping for one recently. It was the cause of the last big argument with his wife. Not because of the boat or the cost, but because of his unbridled flirtation with the sales girl. She was probably not even half his age. His wife thought it was disgusting. His wife. Trish. Was she on this boat too? \n\nHe went bellow deck to check. Nothing. Benches, a table, a few jugs of water. In one swift motion, Dwayne grabbed one of the jugs, tore off the cap, and began drinking furiously. He must have been laid out on that sun soaked deck for a while. The overwhelming thirst he felt was unbearable. Returning the now empty jug to the table he notice an envelope. Scrawled in pen across the front were those numbers again, \"3112\". \n\nInside he found a photo album, again inscribed with the numbers \"3112\". To his surprise, one of the two photos on the first page was his unconscious body, in the same clothes, the tattooed numbers fresh on his wrist. The other picture was of the sales girl. Was this Trish's sick version of a joke? Just in the corner above his lifeless image, was the number 54. And above the sales girl, 35. \n\nHe turned to the next page. His own face started back at him. He and Trish. It had adorned their hearth since August of last year when it was taken. Over his head loomed another number. 53. Again, the sales girl was there. A picture of her at what looked like a New Year's party from the previous year. There again, above her head, 34. \n\nThe pages turned, he continued to see himself on each one, progressively getting younger. 52, 51, 50. The pictures of the girl followed suit. 33, 32, 31. She began to look oddly familiar. He couldn't place her, with every picture he felt closer to pinpointing it. \n\n39, 20... 38, 19... 37, 18... \n\nHe let out a nervous chuckle. Despite his bizarre situation, he couldn't help but see Trish's point now. Their pictures side by side, it was obvious this girl was far too young for him. \n\n36, 17... 35, 16... \n\nA horrible sick feeling washed over him. This time the rocking of the boat was not the cause, but the realization of who she was. It had been so far in the past. He'd spent so much time trying to pretend that wasn't him. Convince himself it hadn't happened. He was normal. Not a bad guy. Not a monster or a criminal. Just a man that was subject to weakness, poor judgment. \n\n34, 15... 33, 14... 32, 13\n\nThere wasn't anyone in his life now that knew. It was a stupid drunken night. A friend's house. Their overly mature niece...he'd never done anything like that again.\n\nA note filled the page above the final picture. \"I never thought I'd have too see you again. I wasn't even sure you existed until you walked into my store, considering people spent my adolescence telling me I was 'making it up' or that I had 'just imagined it'. I thought you were so handsome. I liked you so much. I was just a child. I didn't understand how wrong it all was. You were an adult. You should have. I hope you enjoy the boat. Good luck surviving alone and adrift like I have for the last 23 years. And you're welcome for the free tattoo. I figured if you somehow managed to make it back to land, you should have to live with constant reminders, just like I have.\"\n\nThe picture was old and yellowed with age. A young man and a preteen girl sat together on a couch. The man stared into the camera, smiling as though he'd been caught mid laugh. His eyes drooped slightly with a drunken heaviness. The girl's childish infatuation was clear in the photo. Her face turned toward his, beaming with a loving smile. Above their heads were scratched what he knew now were their ages...\n\n...31...12\n\n\n\n \n\n", "Harry awoke with a start and immediately felt the wave of confusion one might expect from a strange set of circumstances such as his. Scrambling to his feet amidst the slippery deck, Harry looked around for anything he could recognize, only to realize he couldn't recall anything to look for. A new wave of emotion rolled over him: fear. \"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH\" he screamed, falling backwards onto the deck. His heart was pounding, sweat was beading down his forehead. He played there for a few moments until he regained his composure and stood up. He glanced around again and noticed a small bit of writing on his wrist: \"REMEMBER: 3112\". Befuddled, he put his arm down and realized he was on a small boat. Alone. In the middle of the ocean. A new wave of panic threatened to wash over him, but he pushed it back. The ocean was calm and the sun was bright, a perfect day for sailing. The boat sat peacefully at rest amidst the still water. Harry walked around the boat, inspecting it. There wasn't any gear lying around, so he knew he had no way of finding civilization. Not that it would matter if he had a map, since he had no idea where he was. At the front of the boat, Harry found an iPad lying flat on the deck. He picked it up and unlocked the iPad since there was no password. Among the default applications, he saw an app labeled \"Experimental\". He opened it, hoping he could find some sort of clue about his situation. Instead, he found a large password field staring right back at him. He input 3112, desperately hoping this is what he needed the number for. He was right, and the app opened up. In the center of the screen, there was a timer that had started to count down. He had an hour before something happened, though what he did not know. He wondered if it was a bomb or something inside the iPad, waiting to kill him. He decided that was not the case, why would the people who planted the bomb want to wait an hour to do the job? He set the iPad down and relaxed. He knew he couldn't do anything until the event happened when that timer reached zero. He played back and fell asleep. He awoke to a shrieking sound emanating from the iPad right beside him. An hour had passed. He was aired for something to happen and was met with a disturbing silence. Nothing. He walked around a bit. He stretched. He yawned. He walked around again. He picked up a distance sound coming from the other side of the boat. Instinctively, he ran across the boat and picked up a helicopter approaching him. His heart leapt as the helicopter floated to a stop above him. The sound was deafening, but he didn't care. He smiled as a door opened on the side of the helicopter and a ladder dropped down to him. He scrambled up the ladder as fast as he could and was helped in by a man in all white who had a huge mustache. He took off his hat and spoke with a thick Italian accent, \"I apologize again for the whole ordeal but now we know you can order Tony's freshly made pizza from farther than ever before!\"\n\n\nThanks for reading, I tried to twist it up as much as possible at the end. Comment with suggestions for how I could improve. Being my first post, I'm sure I have lots of room to improve!", "In the shadow of a dream I remembered the letter.\n\nIt had been sent to me from the past, having stayed abandoned in a post office box, the 'RETURN TO SENDER' still faintly stamped across the front. It had been forgotten until two weeks before I set sail, delivered hastily in the night by a panting and red sixteen-year old boy. It had been very clear in its message.\n\n'REMEMBER: 3112'\n\nAnd that was it.\n\nI had set sail two weeks later, one week after Christmas. The weather had been hot and sunny - this being the Southern Hemisphere it would be very odd not to have been warm. The Sydney to Hobart yacht race had just concluded. I remember that, and I remembered the moment I set sail, nothing but the endless blue sky and sparkling blue sea ahead of me - but nothing else.\n\nWhere was I?\n\nOn the floor I saw where the salty cracks had split the white wood. I creeped up, legs aching, trying to make sense of where I really was. It was then that I noticed the tattoo, red and raw:\n\n'REMEMBER: 3112.\"\n\nIt did not hurt. \n\nThe boat was quiet, the only sounds the creaking of the floorboards as the sloop bobbed backwards and forwards. There was no pounding of feet, no laughter at a lost cards game, nothing but the silence and the sea. I waited, I wondered. I thought I saw my shoes disappear for a bit. I felt the sun burn my salted skin. It tasted like burnt plastic.\n\nWhat was I supposed to be remembering?\n\nI walked about. Years ago I had wanted this - to be the leader of a ship all by myself. I could be a famous explorer. In the shadow of a dream I remembered it thus - something smoky and faraway lay just out of my reach. A place I could not go to. An island I could not see. My mum had not encouraged the hobby. She said, as old women often do, that the seas were bad luck for us. That there was a prophecy that one day I would die there. Bless her heart, but she was never going to be able to stop me. \n\nThe deck was empty. Somehow, something was very wrong, and it wasn't just about the people or the lack of it or the complete silence or the tattoo. Something felt wrong about the boat, something just didn't add up. I could feel it in my feet. I had been around boats for many years and this one did not feel like one I could trust. The sun was only getting hotter - Only when I had walked the full length of the sloop, heading around to the other side, did I realise why it was weird.\n\nThe ship was turning.\n\nI dashed for the control room. I didn't know where this was, but somehow I knew I would find it, as surely as if I had been an arrow fired in rage, or a bullet shot in haste. Here too the rooms were silent; the corridors echoed with my footfalls.\n\nThe wood made no sound as I walked on them, to where the controls sat. Sure enough, this was empty too. And as I watched, the wheel turned of its own accord, edging this way and that like some invisible force had guided it. The room was cold.\n\nI reached for it, but stopped.\n\nA small voice had spoken in my ear. \"You cannot.\" \n\nI froze. That voice was familiar. \"Who are you?\" I shouted? \"Why am I here?\"\n\nThe voice spoke again. \"Have you remembered that poem which I kept for you, all those years ago? The one you asked for as a little boy?\"\n\nIt was my mother's voice.\n\n\"Mum?\" I asked. \"Wha-why?\"\n\n\"It matters not how strait the gates,\nOr how charged with punishments the scroll;\nI am the master of my fate,\nI am the captain of my soul.\"\n\n\"I remember that,\" I said. \"Why are you doing this to me?\"\n\n\"I told you a long time ago,\" she said. The voice carried no anger, only a sad, despairing tone that already sounded ghostly. \"I warned you, about not doing this - about how the seas were bad luck. About how the prophecy worked.\"\n\n\"You mean...I'm dead?\"\n\n\"Check the calendar,\" came the reply.\n\nI walked over to the ship's calendar. It had only one page left, and the day today was shown on it in big bold letters. December 31, it had said. It took a while before it hit me.\n\n\"No-\"\n\n\"Yes,\" my mum whispered. \"December 31st, 2016. The day you die. The day you lose command of your ship...and the day your soul goes on to wander the seas.\"\n\nI looked out, to where a black crow sat flightless, and I screamed a silent scream.\n\n---\n\nFor more pieces and short stories check out my sub [r/KCcracker!](https://www.reddit.com/r/KCcracker/)\n", "A set of gulls perched on the mast cried out incessantly. Each call made my head pound in protest, and I gave a primal roar, hoping to frighten the pests away. It didn't work; instead, more seagulls seemed to join them. \n\nI slowly became aware of the bright sun beating down on me, and the uncomfortable wooden surface beneath me that had tied my back into knots while I slept. I opened my eyes into a squint, trying to figure out where I was. All I could see was blue. It took a few moments of rubbing my eyelids and blinking to realize that I was in the middle of the ocean, though the salty smell of the air now made a lot more sense. \n\nThe shop bobbed gently in the ocean waves. I managed to stand, though I didn't quite have my sea legs yet. The gulls on the mast watched with amusement in their beady little eyes. The ship itself was absolutely beautiful. Being from Kansas, I really didn't know much about sailing or ships, but everything was sparkling clean and white except for the teak deck underfoot. The cabin had expensive furnishings, including a nice soft bed (which really made me wonder why I'd chosen to sleep outside instead of in here). The galley kitchen was stocked full of supplies, and it looked like nothing had really been opened yet. And weirdest of all, there was no one else on board. Nor any sign of anyone else ever having been on board. \n\nI walked back out onto the desk and climbed the mast, looking for any sign of land. Nothing, of course. Had there been anyone on board? tried to remember, and came up blank. I couldn't even remember how I'd gotten aboard. So I went further back and still found nothing. I couldn't remember anything. Yet I knew all about myself: my name as Andrea; I'm from Wichita, Kansas; I'm a physicist... and yet for each fact, I couldn't remember anyone ever calling me Andrea, my house in Wichita, who I worked for, or even what my field was.\n\nI went back into the cabin and sat down at the table, already set with plates and forks and napkins like someone was getting a meal ready. None of this made any sense! How the hell did I get onto this damn ship? My head was still pounding, and climbing that mast in the heat really hadn't made it any better. I put my elbows up on the table, closed my eyes, and rested my forehead in my palms. Each deep breath of salty air did seem to soothe my headache just a little bit. Finally I was able to open my eyes... and a new mystery was staring me in the face. Tattooed across my wrist was a short message: \"Remember 3112.\"\n\nAwesome. Thanks a lot, Past Me. You bitch. Why the hell would I tattoo a reminder of something on my wrist... and then not even give some explanation of what I was supposed to remember or what those numbers meant. I couldn't remember anything of my past but it was readily obvious that I am an inconsiderate scatterbrain. \n\nI headed over to the wheelhouse. Maybe there would be something there about the boat, or where I'd come from. It was brand new and perfectly clean, just like the rest of the boat. The sails were apparently just for show; the dials showed the engine status. Everything seemed to be doing just fine without anyone at the wheel, which was great because I didn't know the first thing about sailing. And I couldn't really navigate, given that I had no idea where I was. But I glanced over at the GPS in the corner. It just showed field of blue, though there was one tiny speck of an island marked a bit south of my position. And right before I turned away, I happened to notice the coordinates: the ship was currently at roughly 32 degrees south by 15 degrees west. \n\nIt took my mind a bit too long to make the connection, but I blame that on the headache. Finally everything fell into place, and my jaw dropped. Maybe past me wasn't so much of a bitch after all. I entered the coordinates into the GPS and heard the engines throb softly for just a second as the rudder adjusted. Let's see what was so important at coordinates 31 south and 12 west that I needed to tattoo it to my wrist.\n\n" ]	5
	[WP] God is actually a programmer, and Hell is actually the result of a "glitch" in our universe.	[ "Yahweh looked up from the screen. \"So you're saying there's a memory leak?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Jay replied, gesturing to a graph on the console. \"Well, sort of. See this? It's climbing really slowly, but faster ever since you implemented the most recent version of humans.\"\n\nYahweh flicked His mouse and enlarged the display. Sure enough, He saw that tiny line was trending upwards. A quick comparison with the Population line showed that it was directly related, or worse. He slumped in His chair and stared pensively.\n\n\"Another thousand or so cycles--years, sorry--and that leak is going to almost match population, or overtake it.\" said Jay. \"That's assuming the population grows linearly, too, and we both know that isn't what happened last time. To be honest it looks like it's already starting to climb exponentially.\"\n\nJay returned to his chair and started typing again. He stopped abruptly.\n\n\"Wait a minute. Are those leaked objects each a full human instance? And are they still executing?\"\n\nThe deity's eyes widened and His fingers started typing commands on the keyboard. Yahweh sighed as He took in the text displayed.\n\n\"Full instance, each one still executing the normal program. But, is_dead is set to true for all of them. So that means the die() method won't get called again.. hm..\" His voice trailed off.\n\n\"But where are they executing? They're not in World.\"\n\nKeystrokes clattered forth, followed by a sigh. \"Lucys_Sandbox, apparently.\" \n\nHe slid His chair and stuck His head out of the door and yelled down the hall. \"Hey Lucy! Did you delete that experimental world you were running on my server like I asked?\"\n\n\"Uhhh.... Crap. I don't think I did. Sorry about that.\"\n\nJay looked up from his screen. \"It looks like some of the human instances crash when die() is called. Must be really trippy from their perspective, right before they cease to exist. The others land in that sandbox instead. Seems to be random from what I can tell. What's in the sandbox, anyway?\"\n\nYahweh groaned. \"Lucy wanted to try some nasty little automatons that would tear each other up and inflict, well, torment. A sort of experiment to observe emergent behavior or something.\"\n\n\"So you're saying that every instance that has the bad luck to land in that sandbox is being tormented, and can't die because the system thinks they already have?\"\n\nYahweh nodded.\n\n\"That sucks.\"\n\n\"Yeah... mind helping me sort this out?\"\n\n\"No way. The last time I tried I was in your codebase forever. I still had to go back three days later after the recompile. The boss practically crucified me! I don't want to get fired like Abe did, or worse, arrested like Adam!\"\n\n\"Well, damn. Eh.. thanks anyway. I'll go see if Mo will help.\"\n", "* BigManUpstairs added JeezyCeezy to the chat!\n\nBigManUpstairs:* So as I told Lucy, I'm pretty sure it's nothing, but I'm seeing a lot of packet loss. Could you look it over, make sure everything's cool? Boss needs it by COB. (13:23)\n\nJeezyCeezy: yeah np (13:24)\n\nLucyFireLOL: Wait for it... (13:24)\n\nJeezyCeezy: ...holy shit dude (13:48)\n\nJeezyCeezy: holy SHIT dude (13:48)\n\nBigManUpstairs: That bad? (13:48)\n\nJeezyCeezy: that bad (13:49)\n\nLucyFireLOL: LOL. (13:49)\n\nBigManUpstairs: Shit. What's wrong??? (13:50)\n\nJeezyCeezy: where 2 start...you have NO contingency for the code remainders. math you put in leaves a bit of room for some leftover chunks, but you don't have a way to deal with them, so they go into this recycle bin type thing that's causing the whole thing to be jacked up. your program can't run to completion because the way you designed it, fucking EVERYTHING is going to wind up in this bin sooner or later. (13:53)\n\nJeezyCeezy: good code (13:53)\n\nJeezyCeezy: bad code (13:54)\n\nJeezyCeezy: all of it (13:54)\n\nJeezyCeezy: you fucked UP bro (13:54)\n\nBigManUpstairs: FUCK (13:55)\n\nLucyFireLOL: And boss needed this by the end of the day? (13:55)\n\nBigManUpstairs: Yeah... (13:56)\n\nLucyFireLOL: Damn. (13:56)\n\nJeezyCeezy: gl with that, taking lunch (13:56)\n\nBigManUpstairs: fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfcuk. Lucy, think you can help me out with this? (14:20)\n\nLucyFireLOL: Asking me for help now? After last Saturday? Some nerve, Craig. (14:22)\n\nBigManUpstairs: Come on! You wrangle wayward code better than anybody on this floor and you know it! (14:24)\n\nLucyFireLOL: I want equal credit. Only fair, considering how you fucked this thing harder than a roided out horse. (14:27)\n\nBigManUpstairs: WHAT?!? This is my JOB on the line here, ad if I don't turn it in with my name then I'll never get that promotion I've been gunning for! (14:28)\n\nLucyFireLOL: Suit yourself. (14:29)\n\nBigManUpstairs: OKAY. EQUAL CREDIT. (14:30)\n\n* BigManUpstairs sent LucyFireLOL** Universe1.0.exe \n\nJeezyCeezy:* back, i miss anything? (15:01)\n\nBigManUpstairs: Yeah, Lucy's gonna help me with the bugged out code in the \"recycle bin type thing\". (15:02)\n\nJeezyCeezy: ...you cant fucking be serious (15:02)\n\nBigManUpstairs: ? (15:02)\n\nJeezyCeezy: read the chat log. you just promised half credit for her to treat a symptom. a fucking system restore could do that. (15:04)\n\nJeezyCeezy: no. send me the project. im going in. (15:04)\n\nBigManUpstairs: WHAT?? (15:05)\n\nJeezyCeezy: your code will still be fucked. boss wants this in two hours. you want this project to work or not? (15:06)\n\nBigManUpstairs: ... (15:06)\n\n* BigManUpstairs sent JeezyCeezy** Universe1.0.exe \n\nJeezyCeezy:* hold on to your butt its savior time. (15:08)\n\nJeezyCeezy: done (16:48)\n\n* JeezyCeezy sent BigManUpstairs** UniverseSAVED.exe \n\nBigManUpstairs* Oh man can't thank you enough. (16:49)\n\nJeezyCeezy: fuckin right you cant. had to reach into the code directly, give them an almost completely new set of rules and behavior guidelines. fucking excruciating. (16:50)\n\nJeezyCeezy: but i have unfucked it. do not - DO NOT - de-un-fuck it. (16:50)\n\nBigManUpstairs: So, spoke with the boss! He said I can only attach one name to it or else it'll be a group thing and I won't be able to move up, but other than that he said it looks great! Putting your name on there, Josh, thanks a million! (16:57)\n\nJeezyCeezy: np, you owe me a dime. the good stuff this time. (16:57)\n\nBigManUpstairs: You bet. (16:58)\n\nLucyFireLOL: WHAT. (16:59)\n\nLucyFireLOL: CRAIG WHAT THE FUCK?!? (16:59)\n\n* BigManUpstairs has left the chat! \n\n JeezyCeezy has left the chat! \n\nLucyFireLOL:* OMG FUCK YOU ALL. (17:00)\n\n* LucyFireLOL has left the chat! *" ]	2
	[WP] At magic school graduation everyone's familiar for life is introduced to them. Tigers, snakes, and even foxes. When it is your turn your magic summons moth.	[ "The graduates all stood in a line on the grassy field. We were all wearing our best robes. The sun shone high in the sky. Some of us were nervous, though they tried to hide it to the best of their abilities. Others were merely trying to hold back their excitement. What would happen today would impact the rest of our lives. We would be getting our Familiars.\n\nIn order to call upon a Familiar, you had to tempt it with your own spiritual energy. The ritual required has it's roots in ancient times, in which shamans would bath in animal blood and dine on raw flesh in order to apease the spirits. Nowadays it's like casting a fishing rod into the water and seeing what bites. It's alot more streamlined and vegetarian friendly. \n\nBecause of the nature of these rituals, certain potions and elixers that augment your personal mana might prove beneficial. Though it is illegal, I've seen some of my fellow students down a mana pot right in front of me this morning. When you're dealing with something this life changing then you probably want all of the advantages you can get. I am ashamed to admit I consumed fifteen different assorted elixers not a hour earlier. I imagine that I'll be shitting rainbows after this.\n\nThe instructor was calling each one of our names out in order, from left to right. I was on the end of the row, so I'd be going last. They had mages flanking us and more in the distance, just in case things went wrong. They didn't usually go wrong, but you did have the odd rampaging demon every once in a while.\n\nThe first student closed his eyes and gathered his mana outside of his body. Soon, a brown bear appeared in a cloud of dust. Everyone broke into applause. It was a great start to the ceremony. The other students eagerly took their turns. Wolves, foxes, a horse, a unicorn, some mice. Luna, the class magical prodigy got a motherfucking dragon. This wasn't a puny wyvern either, it was as large as a house. She stood there, one hand on it's snout, with a smug smile on her face. I could swear she glancing dismissively at me. Everyone was clapping and cheering for her. She's going to get what's coming to her one of these days.\n\n\"Well, that's certainly going to be tough to match,\" the instructor said before turning towards me, \"You're the last one, best of luck!\"\n\nI closed my eyes and gathered my mana. I was not fifteen seconds into the ritual before I heard giggling. I wasn't going to take this! I opened my eyes and dispelled my magic in an rage. The childish giggling transformed into uncontrollable laughter. \n\n\"What?! What is it, you morons?!\", I yelled. No one answered my inquiry. They all turned away from me.\n\nExcept for Luna. Damn it. \"Plese don't be angry at what I'm about to tell you,\" she said with that smug smile of hers plastered all over her smug face, \"But... your familiar.. is... Umm...\"\n\nMy face was red. Tears gathered in my eyes. \n\n\"What,\" I barked\n\nAtleast she had the decency to look embarassed, \"It's a moth.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You know, Moth. Those little insects that often fly too close to the flame and get burnt?\"\n\nMy shoulders slumped. My legs felt weak. I think I was feeling the side-effects from the potions I ingested. \n\n\"You have to summon it and bind it,\" the instructor told me. \"Just get it over with.\" He sighed.\n\nAnd so I did. It is said that magic is everywhere. That it transcends time and space and it's reach even extends to other planes of existance. Often a familiar appears as something that is recognizable to the summoner. If the summoner is powerful enough (or if they ingested enough drugs in my case) then they might be able to summon something that is completely alien.\n\nI called forth a moth that blocked out the sun. \n\n. . .\n", "The graduates all stood in a line on the grassy field. We were all wearing our best robes. The sun shone high in the sky. Some of \n\nus were nervous, though they tried to hide it to the best of their abilities. Others were merely trying to hold back their \n\nexcitement. What would happen today would impact the rest of our lives. We would be getting our Familiars.\n\nIn order to call upon a Familiar, you had to tempt it with your own spiritual energy. The ritual required has it's roots in ancient \n\ntimes, in which shamans would bath in animal blood and dine on raw flesh in order to apease the spirits. Nowadays it's like \n\ncasting a fishing rod into the water and seeing what bites. It's alot more streamlined and vegetarian friendly. \n\nBecause of the nature of these rituals, certain potions and elixers that augment your personal mana might prove beneficial. \n\nThough it is illegal, I've seen some of my fellow students down a mana pot right in front of me this morning. When you're \n\ndealing with something this life changing then you probably want all of the advantages you can get. I am ashamed to admit I \n\nconsumed fifteen different assorted elixers not a hour earlier. I imagine that I'll be shitting rainbows after this.\n\nThe instructor was calling each one of our names out in order, from left to right. I was on the end of the row, so I'd be going last. \n\nThey had mages flanking us and more in the distance, just in case things went wrong. They didn't usually go wrong, but you did \n\nhave the odd rampaging demon every once in a while.\n\nThe first student closed his eyes and gathered his mana outside of his body. Soon, a brown bear appeared in a cloud of dust. \n\nEveryone broke into applause. It was a great start to the ceremony. The other students eagerly took their turns. Wolves, \n\nfoxes, a horse, a unicorn, some mice. Luna, the class magical prodigy got a motherfucking dragon. This wasn't a puny wyvern \n\neither, it was as large as a house. She stood there, one hand on it's snout, with a smug smile on her face. I could swear she \n\nglancing dismissively at me. Everyone was clapping and cheering for her. She's going to get what's coming to her one of these \n\ndays.\n\n\"Well, that's certainly going to be tough to match,\" the instructor said before turning towards me, \"You're the last one, best of \n\nluck!\"\n\nI closed my eyes and gathered my mana. I was not fifteen seconds into the ritual before I heard giggling. I wasn't going to take \n\nthis! I opened my eyes and dispelled my magic in an rage. The childish giggling transformed into uncontrollable laughter. \n\n\"What?! What is it, you morons?!\", I yelled. No one answered my inquiry. They all turned away from me.\n\nExcept for Luna. Damn it. \"Plese don't be angry at what I'm about to tell you,\" she said with that smug smile of hers plastered \n\nall over her smug face, \"But... your familiar.. is... Umm...\"\n\nMy face was red. Tears gathered in my eyes. \n\n\"What,\" I barked\n\nAtleast she had the decency to look embarassed, \"It's a moth.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You know, Moth. Those little insects that often fly too close to the flame and get burnt?\"\n\nMy shoulders slumped. My legs felt weak. I think I was feeling the side-effects from the potions I ingested. \n\n\"You have to summon it and bind it,\" the instructor told me. \"Just get it over with.\" He sighed.\n\nAnd so I did. It is said that magic is everywhere. That it transcends time and space and it's reach even extends to other planes \n\nof existance. Often a familiar appears as something that is recognizable to the summoner. If the summoner is powerful enough \n\n(or if they ingested enough drugs in my case) then they might be able to summon something that is completely alien.\n\nI called forth a moth that blocked out the sun. \n\n. . .", "The graduates all stood in a line on the grassy field. We were all wearing our best robes. The sun shone high in the sky. Some of us were nervous, though they tried to hide it to the best of their abilities. Others were merely trying to hold back their excitement. What would happen today would impact the rest of our lives. We would be getting our Familiars.\n\nIn order to call upon a Familiar, you had to tempt it with your own spiritual energy. The ritual required has it's roots in ancient times, in which shamans would bath in animal blood and dine on raw flesh in order to apease the spirits. Nowadays it's like casting a fishing rod into the water and seeing what bites. It's alot more streamlined and vegetarian friendly. \n\nBecause of the nature of these rituals, certain potions and elixers that augment your personal mana might prove beneficial. Though it is illegal, I've seen some of my fellow students down a mana pot right in front of me this morning. When you're dealing with something this life changing then you probably want all of the advantages you can get. I am ashamed to admit I consumed fifteen different assorted elixers not a hour earlier. I imagine that I'll be shitting rainbows after this.\n\nThe instructor was calling each one of our names out in order, from left to right. I was on the end of the row, so I'd be going last. \n\nThey had mages flanking us and more in the distance, just in case things went wrong. They didn't usually go wrong, but you did have the odd rampaging demon every once in a while.\n\nThe first student closed his eyes and gathered his mana outside of his body. Soon, a brown bear appeared in a cloud of dust. Everyone broke into applause. It was a great start to the ceremony. The other students eagerly took their turns. Wolves, foxes, a horse, a unicorn, some mice. Luna, the class magical prodigy got a motherfucking dragon. This wasn't a puny wyvern either, it was as large as a house. She stood there, one hand on it's snout, with a smug smile on her face. I could swear she \n\nglancing dismissively at me. Everyone was clapping and cheering for her. She's going to get what's coming to her one of these days.\n\n\"Well, that's certainly going to be tough to match,\" the instructor said before turning towards me, \"You're the last one, best of luck!\"\n\nI closed my eyes and gathered my mana. I was not fifteen seconds into the ritual before I heard giggling. I wasn't going to take this! I opened my eyes and dispelled my magic in an rage. The childish giggling transformed into uncontrollable laughter. \n\n\"What?! What is it, you morons?!\", I yelled. No one answered my inquiry. They all turned away from me.\n\nExcept for Luna. Damn it. \"Plese don't be angry at what I'm about to tell you,\" she said with that smug smile of hers plastered all over her smug face, \"But... your familiar.. is... Umm...\"\n\nMy face was red. Tears gathered in my eyes. \n\n\"What,\" I barked\n\nAtleast she had the decency to look embarassed, \"It's a moth.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You know, Moth. Those little insects that often fly too close to the flame and get burnt?\"\n\nMy shoulders slumped. My legs felt weak. I think I was feeling the side-effects from the potions I ingested. \n\n\"You have to summon it and bind it,\" the instructor told me. \"Just get it over with.\" He sighed. \n\nAnd so I did. It is said that magic is everywhere. That it transcends time and space and it's reach even extends to other planes of existance. Often a familiar appears as something that is recognizable to the summoner. If the summoner is powerful enough (or if they ingested enough drugs in my case) then they might be able to summon something that is completely alien.\n\nI called forth a moth that blocked out the sun. \n\n. . .", "\"it's...a moth.\"\n\n\"A moth!\"\n\n\"The devil's butterfly!\"\n\n\"Oh forgive me oh great one for I did not know it was you.\"\n\n\"Wait what. You just asked me what my summon was.\"\n\n\"Do you not know the significance of a moth summon oh great one?\"\n\n\"Its just a moth right. I mean a black panther like yours would have been so much better.\"\n\n\"Not so. The devil's butterfly is only summoned once every 10,000 years. You have returned to us oh dark one.\"\n\n\"Indeed. Simply the summoning of the moth is enough to prove your identity oh grand one.\"\n\n\"You shall become the devil.\"\n\n\"You shall clense the world.\"\n\n\"You shall obscure all that is light in mud and darkness.\"\n\n\"Oh all mighty one.\"\n\n\"We must prepare for your coming at once.\"\n\n\"What are you two going on about?\"\n\n\"You have finally returned oh omniscient one.\"\n\n\"What's with the oh ones?\"\n\n\"We dare not incur your wrath oh powerful one.\"\n\n\"What are you two saying? It's making no sense.\"\n\n\"Oh grand moth summoner... one I prey ask that you call summons here so we may bask in its greyness.\"\n\n\"Erm sure.\" I held my hand above my head and from the light the moth fluttered onto it.\n\n\"Oh lordful one.\"\n\nThe man who had been groveling at his knees since I told him my summon. Looked up. Instantaneously turning into a grey dusy and collapsing into a new pile. On the floor.\n\n\"Oh grand one. I ask for your mercy. It was not right for my friend to ask such a large request of you. I ask not for my life but only that you will peform the task before you. Live up to your destiny and beware of those with butterfly summons.\"\n\n\"Wait. No. I dont mean to kill you.\"\n\n\"If you will not kill me oh merciful one than I shall take my life into my own hands.\"\n\nThe man then without a seconds thought slit his own throat. The crimson pool rapidly surrounding him as he cloaked to death.\n\nWhat am I supposed to do now then. Beware of those with a butterfly summons. Like Anna. I liked Anna. She was nice. But now I'm in a room with a bright light, a moth and two dead people. Only one of which was recognisable. Now what.", "The graduates all stood in a line on the grassy field. We were all wearing our best robes. The sun shone high in the sky. Some of us were nervous, though they tried to hide it to the best of their abilities. Others were merely trying to hold back their excitement. What would happen today would impact the rest of our lives. We would be getting our Familiars.\n\nIn order to call upon a Familiar, you had to tempt it with your own spiritual energy. The ritual required has it's roots in ancient times, in which shamans would bath in animal blood and dine on raw flesh in order to apease the spirits. Nowadays it's like casting a fishing rod into the water and seeing what bites. It's alot more streamlined and vegetarian friendly. \n\nBecause of the nature of these rituals, certain potions and elixers that augment your personal mana might prove beneficial. Though it is illegal, I've seen some of my fellow students down a mana pot right in front of me this morning. When you're dealing with something this life changing then you probably want all of the advantages you can get. I am ashamed to admit I consumed fifteen different assorted elixers not a hour earlier. I imagine that I'll be shitting rainbows after this.\n\nThe instructor was calling each one of our names out in order, from left to right. I was on the end of the row, so I'd be going last. \n\nThey had mages flanking us and more in the distance, just in case things went wrong. They didn't usually go wrong, but you did have the odd rampaging demon every once in a while.\n\nThe first student closed his eyes and gathered his mana outside of his body. Soon, a brown bear appeared in a cloud of dust. Everyone broke into applause. It was a great start to the ceremony. The other students eagerly took their turns. Wolves, foxes, a horse, a unicorn, some mice. Luna, the class magical prodigy got a motherfucking dragon. This wasn't a puny wyvern either, it was as large as a house. She stood there, one hand on it's snout, with a smug smile on her face. I could swear she \n\nglancing dismissively at me. Everyone was clapping and cheering for her. She's going to get what's coming to her one of these days.\n\n\"Well, that's certainly going to be tough to match,\" the instructor said before turning towards me, \"You're the last one, best of luck!\"\n\nI closed my eyes and gathered my mana. I was not fifteen seconds into the ritual before I heard giggling. I wasn't going to take this! I opened my eyes and dispelled my magic in an rage. The childish giggling transformed into uncontrollable laughter. \n\n\"What?! What is it, you morons?!\", I yelled. No one answered my inquiry. They all turned away from me.\n\nExcept for Luna. Damn it. \"Plese don't be angry at what I'm about to tell you,\" she said with that smug smile of hers plastered all over her smug face, \"But... your familiar.. is... Umm...\"\n\nMy face was red. Tears gathered in my eyes. \n\n\"What,\" I barked\n\nAtleast she had the decency to look embarassed, \"It's a moth.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You know, Moth. Those little insects that often fly too close to the flame and get burnt?\"\n\nMy shoulders slumped. My legs felt weak. I think I was feeling the side-effects from the potions I ingested. \n\n\"You have to summon it and bind it,\" the instructor told me. \"Just get it over with.\" He sighed. \n\nAnd so I did. It is said that magic is everywhere. That it transcends time and space and it's reach even extends to other planes of existance. Often a familiar appears as something that is recognizable to the summoner. If the summoner is powerful enough (or if they ingested enough drugs in my case) then they might be able to summon something that is completely alien.\n\nI called forth a moth that blocked out the sun. \n\n. . ." ]	5
	[WP] Rain throwing itself at the ground, and lightning soars across the sky. There's a storm brewing, and just as the clap of thunder roars across the sky, you find out just what lightning really is.	[ "I can smell it, the rain coming. The air has gone dry, the winds beginning to tug at trees. Skies flash and thunder roars, and it reminds me of home.\n\nThey would be preparing the wells now, waiting for the downpour. Storms like this were few and far between and the rain was clean. A good storm would fill the tall wells and give us enough water to last the following lunar cycles.\n\nThe air goes still, and I know the rain is soon. The skies alight with lightning, and thunder crashes again, shaking the grounds below me. Drops of water, slow at first, but faster and faster in the next moments. It soaks through my furs, through the leathers, my hair. Mud, cold and thick, seeps between my toes at every step.\n\nHeat flashes nearby, and I don't even notice the thundering overhead as something explodes into flames---I can't see, didn't see, what happened, there are spots in my vision-----the heat flashes again I can feel it against my back.\n\nMy eyes squeeze closed and I stumble forward. The mud soon meets my hands, foot caught in a root.\n\nI throw myself over, turning, twisting, forcing myself to open my eyes again and look. I need to know what happened.\n\nI expected a fire. Something to explain the heat that had seared my skin. Instead, all I see is smouldering stumps, trees fallen in the tumult... and looking down, beneath the mud on my skin, I see a spidering pattern, red and painful to the touch.\n\nLightning is---it is more than just something of the gods. It is sheer power, and I know now why the storms are such a thing of beauty.\n\nThere is always beauty in the raw power of a storm, and in the lightning that illuminates the dark skies." ]	1
	[WP] You are teleported into a parallel universe. Quickly, you find out you have no skill in the talent you love doing (and are good at), but you are a master of the thing you hate doing most.	[ "\"Dammit!\"\n\nI threw down my pencil in frustration and buried my face in my hands. Beneath my elbows laid my latest drawing. It was meant to be Venus, the goddess of love, drifting nude in an impossible underwater meadow. What was actually on the paper was a lumpy brick with breasts and buck teeth. Around the goddess-turned-rectangle were scattered stems, leafless, and heavy with daisy petals. A single trail of bubbles floated up from Venus's mouth. She was alive, but her crossed eyes begged me to end her suffering.\n\nMercifully, I crumpled the monstrosity into a ball and tossed it over my shoulder. I heard it land somewhere. I hoped I would never find it.\n\nWhat had happened to me? Last night I had been an artist. I had doodled a goat before bed. But the next morning I flipped open my sketchbook to the artwork of a stranger.\n\nWhat could I possibly do with my life, now that my only talent was gone? How could I be happy if I couldn't create? The worlds in my head were itching to be brought to life, and I was the wrong person for the job. An artist is only as good as their art, and I was as talented as sewage.\n\nI laid my head down on my desk and cried myself to sleep.\n\n—————\n\nAt first I didn't know what had awoken me. Then I heard the noise again: a sigh from the floorboards. Was someone creeping through my house?\n\n(I'm literally falling asleep, so I'll finish this in the morning :> Thanks for reading! I'm not an artist by the way, just wanted to use that profession)", "\"I will build a gun! It'll be a big gun!\" I cried, waving my hands in a disgustingly showy way, proclaiming my master plan loudly, proudly. \n\nThe crowd thrummed in response. That was the only way to describe it. Their eyes on me were hot, feverish, betraying the zeal for my cause that burnt in their chests. \n\n\"It'll shoot down those planes, cut 'em right out of the sky!\" Passionate, righteous indignation flowed over me as the crowd cheered my name to the heavens. I shut it out with hatred. I whipped these poor fools into a frenzy, even appearing caught up in it myself. Inside, I was hard. A rock unmoved by the roaring current all around it.\n\n\"Those damn chinks need to go! I'll get 'em out of our country, if you elect me President! We will make Russia great again!\" This time the cheers and roars of approval filled the auditorium. I stared out passionately, the stage lights searing my eyes.\n\nAs I let the cheers die down, I found myself thinking over my life, less than a year ago. I'd been a mathematician. Solving problems, demonstrating proofs; that had been my life. I went days without talking to anyone except others like me, and sometimes even they were forgotten. I was in love with my art. I don't like people, and I hate being in front of them. I've always had a terrible case of stage fright.\n\nUntil about eleven months ago, that is. I woke up one morning to return to my proofs, only to find them missing. All of them. My online account at the university I worked with would not work. My colleagues hadn't ever heard of me. And my work? Oh, my work...\n\nIt wasn't gone. It had been abandoned by someone whose name was an anagram of mine. She had died in an accident a year prior and, accessing her work through public domain, I found I could make neither head nor tail of it. I worked my way down the mathematical hierarchy. Linear algebra, calculus, trigonometry, algebra... I found that anything beyond the most basic algebra entirely eluded me completely. I once could have gone on at length about the meaning of the fourth derivative. Now? I just knew it was kind of like an onion, with layers. Or a cake, maybe...\n\nI used to do basic math problems on paper, to get that wonderful feeling of completion again... It was depressing, to realize what I had lost. My family all swore I'd never been to college, except for a humanities degree. Humanities!\n\nSo, I'd taken to teaching, hoping to raise prodigies the likes of whom I could only envy, now. I had no idea why this had happened, or how--I probably couldn't understand it now, anyway--but I moved on with my life. For a few months, I managed. More than managed; I was good. Damn good. I couldn't teach much beyond basic algebra, but the children I taught mathematics to learned it far better than any children I'd ever seen. \n\nIt was almost like transmitting my theoretical knowledge (such as it was) directly to their brains. I didn't really enjoy it, much. I hated talking in front of people, and the only reason I could live with it was because I was serving my lost art. Teaching children--who barely counted as people in my book--to understand mathematics. To grasp the abstract and to run with it in a way that was lost to me now. \n\nI took to drinking, but it barely mattered. Even hammered, I could get the kids to the point where they could almost work calculus out for themselves, given a textbook. I was the best teacher in the school, and every night I went home to my second-rate apartment that I could afford only with my second-rate pay, considering the gun store I passed on the way to and from the school. Perhaps it would be better...But mathematics needed brilliant minds, and it was the only way I could contribute, now.\n\nI managed, day after dreary day. It was awful and stressful and dull, but I managed.\n\n Until...\n\nWell, until someone decided to start shooting up my elementary school. The gunshots rang out and fear filled me. The children, like the little sponges they were, soaked up my fear and began to panic. I had to talk them down, sensing the swell of fear in a visceral way. I knew exactly what to say, and soon they were back to doing their sums, while I began to think out what to do. The shooter was getting closer, and hiding in a corner just made them a more tightly-packed target.\n\nLong story short, I talked the fool out of it. Somehow, I tugged on his heartstrings. I played him like Mozart played the piano. Like a master sculptor coaxed life from stone. Like I used to draw beauty from the depths of mathematics. He gave me the gun, turned himself in, weeping. Only two people had died, both teachers. I was lauded a hero.\n\nThat was what launched my political career. I was used as an advocate for gun restriction by the Whig party. Oddly enough, the United States (or the Russian Free Presidency, as it somehow ended up being called now) had three parties. The Whigs who were democrats for lack of a better term, the Tea Party, who apparently were republicans, but with a serious thing for civil rights for religious minorities, and the Free Masons, who apparently have as little idea of what they want as I do.\n\nI soon had a massive following, and the use of any weapon other than a single-chamber hunting rifle and a two-shot handgun was outlawed, even for the police. This wasn't overly successful, since the European Republic smuggled in massive numbers of illegal handguns in a sort of protest against the change. Even so, I spun it. I was paid well, and I was pretty sure the Whigs would have me eliminated if I tried to stop. I had that way with people, now; I knew what they were thinking and feeling. And how to change their opinions, too.\n\nSo here I was, a mathematician who hated her life running for President of the Russian Free Presidency. I had to; the Whigs knew what they had in me, as the only person in eight hundred years to unite the parties. I'd win, and do what they wanted. I couldn't talk them out of it; if anyone could get past my smooth talking, it was a bunch of Russian politicians. So I called out a nation whose geography I only had a vague idea of now, in a world that was all topsy-turvy, and I hated every minute of it. If I hadn't made guns so hard to get, I'd probably have gotten rid of myself, by now." ]	2
	[WP] The serum for immortality never moved past the animal testing phase. You have just inheritted the family pet and they're over 200 years old.	[ "Felix stirred awake, his head ringing in pain.\n\n\"uuuuuh\"\n\nBlinking slightly, he focused his gaze on the large crystal chandelier elegantly hanging above him, his vision clearing as he woke. Fuck he must have had a lot of shit last night. Brushing a girl's naked leg off his stomach, he left last night's lover lying in the giant canopied bed, and stood groggily on the cold marble of the floor. \n\n\"Fuck... Heston! HESTON!!\"\n\nHe walked nakedly and clumsily to the bathroom, glimmering streamers falling from him as he screamed the name of his man servant. The wreckage of last night's party was everywhere, naked bodies entwined on sofas, a million glasses half filled with champagne, vodka, a smashed vase, a man wearing curtains as a toga passed out in the bathtub, even unfinished lines of coke laid out on the marble coffee table. Felix was unconcerned by a scene familiar to him. Someone would clean it up, someone would replace the damages, someone would get rid of the naked guests. He stood before the gigantic gold trimmed mirror, and studied his unwashed appearance, hair tangled, bags under his eyes, and as naked as the day he was born. Actually he still had his watch on, a vintage Rolex from- shit was that the time!?\n\nFive minutes later he barreled into the back of a limosuine, with only the addition of pants. Heston sat calmly in the front seat, one hand on the wheel, eyes on the road as they pulled out of the perfectly maintained driveway.\n\n\"Maria organized your things in the back there Sir\"\n\nHeston spoke with a calm and unobtrusive manner, and that was exactly why Felix had hired him. He grabbed the designer cotton T-shirt nearly folded on the seat beside him, and pulled it over his head, then grabbing a bottle of water from an ice bucket set into the car's interior. Gulping down the cool refreshment, Felix sighed. He was going to be late, again. His sister would never let him hear the end of this.\n\nHis worries were interrupted by the buzzing of an iPhone on the seat next to him- God bless Maria. He grabbed the phone, pressing answer with a hint of dread.\n\n\"Hi, yes, I'm on my way. I did enjoy last night, thankyou very much. Yes I am feeling fine. Shut up. I'll be there soon.\"\n\nHe promptly hung up and grated his teeth. Wow his sister was a bitch.\n\nAfter they had arrived at his sister's house, Felix sat down at the long table, expensive lawyers flanking him either side. They were here to organize their Father's will, not something Felix had been particularly looking forward too.\n\n\"Brother. Apologies for dragging you away from the revelries of your home. Though I'm sure your friends won't be missing you too much. Let's begin.\"\n\nHeston had been waiting in the car for only an hour when Felix came storming out of the house, flinging himself into the car along with a metal cage. A yowling noise sounded, and raising an eyebrow, Heston chose not to comment, instead driving his employer back in tense silence, with a face of thunder.\n\nThey arrived back at the luxurious mansion, where the last of the party guests were driving back to their high end apartments to sleep off a wild night. Wordlessly, Felix grabbed the cage and stormed to his room.\n\n\"He left me a cat. A fucking old as shit cat.\"\n\n\"And that's it?\"\n\nFelix paced while a chubby man wearing a Captain America T-shirt lounged on the French style sofa eating popcorn. \n\n\"That's it.\"\n\n\"Woah dude\" the chubby man chuckled. \"Ruthless.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I mean what the fuck am I supposed to do with a freak of nature mog that's older than anyone alive? Sell it? Give it to a circus?\"\n\nFelix threw an overstuffed pillow across the room in anger, the projectile thumping into the metal cage placed on the dresser.\n\n\"Well now you mention it, you could try letting me out, you beast.\"\n\nFelix stopped dead in his tracks and stared bug eyed at the box where the eloquently spoken voice had come from. No way.\n\nThe chubby man sat up, popcorn spraying everywhere. \n\n\"Dude... Your cat just spoke...\"\n\n\n", "I never wanted a brilliant mind.\n\nRunning away from home, I felt the November rain soaking the soles of my boots and remembered my father’s words. Looking back one more time at the colossal mansion that stared blankly back at me, the drive for freedom led me to continue my journey through stems and trees with blackened leaves. The rustling of nature was continous and the dreadness of feeling as if my steps were being followed, made my feet move steadier and ignore the thousand eyes that seemed to gaze at me from behind the monsoon and the ghastly bushes. \n\nThe determination that enveloped my decision came to no obstacles as I ran the lacking distance, a mere feet, and quickly locked myself inside my old car, tossing the ponderous bag to the passenger’s side. Breathing heavily, I came to a stop and reevaluated the entire situation I had put myself through, only to come to the glorious conclusion that I had fought for what was best for me. \n\nNever again did the creature’s name rushed through my thoughts as I lived my life. I was as any other person that walked around, seemlessly unbothered by any predicament, silently carrying a secret that got heavier and heavier. \n\nAs my long lost sister’s death became impendent, I worried about the many likely options that could come to her mind, regarding the mischievous creature and his malevolency. Distress took over me and I locked myself inside, alone to hear only my own voice through days and nights, profoundly disturbed by the possibility that I was to become the newfound owner to the hundred years old creature. The filthy grin swallowed my psyche and I receded further into the corner I was crouching in. \n____________________________________________________________\n\nThe bell rang five days later. There is the need to understand that I could not reliably tell how long it had passed, since time seemed to drag itself around, seeping over and through me as if not affecting my existence as long as I layed there in the corner. I do not know if I cried myself to sleep any of the nights but my thoughts would likely have cried each and every night. As the bell rang for the second time in an impatient buzz, my troublesome neighbours hit the contiguous wall and I got myself up in a worried jump. The last thing I needed was to deepen my already doomed situation. \n\nThe bell rang for the third time as I clenched the doorknob and looked straight to the small man staring back at me with an unforbearing expression splattered on his globose face. The hallway lights shimmered and a prolonged noise rose up between myself and the small, agitated man as he held the creature portable. Crouching down, I realized the borders of my robe dusting the dirty floor around and the recognition of being entirely nude dawn on me as naturally as the sun was setting. That was not a fulcral worry at that time and I swept my nose using my left hand. Some high was taking over my body and I did not care about the curious, intriguied looks the small delivery man shot my way. He could stare at his will. \n\nThe eyes that met me from inside the shadows of the portable were a deep blue but there was so much more universe inside them. I used to tell my mother that I saw spiders inside the feline’s eyes. She would laugh, sip on her red wine glass once more and advise me to leave my father’s cat to himself. \n\nDon’t disturb him, Lewis. Let the cat sit around your father’s office. You’ll play with Caesar later. \n\nI quickly took the portable away from the man’s hands and his facial gestures shifted into an impatience enveloped in fury. Tossing him a few dollars, I locked the door in his ball-shaped face and placed down the portable on the trashed coffee table. I closed the venetian blinds and sat down in the couch, throwing away some of the coffee-stained pillows. Landing all around me as a sea of safeness, the notion quickly escaped from the grasp of my mind as another purr escaped the creature’s mouth. Inside the darkness, Caesar licked his lips and his tongue danced around the sharp fangs. \n\nHow come he’s always locked inside dad’s office? \n\nAt first, the comprehension about Caesar’s condition seemed to be too far away from my conscious knowledge for me to able to understand it, even though I was aware of how superior my father’s mind was and how honorable his brainy research and work were. I would sit down with my toys scatterred all around me and, as slowly as a feather would fall down an abysm, Caesar would stroll around on gentle paws, avoiding each toy as if seeing an obstacle and then hide himself again inside the office. \n\nHe’s old, honey. Caesar’s got some years. And your father does not approve you playing around with him. It might be dangerous. \n\nWhen the accidents first started to occur, I was eleven years old and my birthday party had been the most magnificent blast that my swollen mind could ever feel as worthy of rememberance. There were big white and red clown smiles all around and the children’s laughter suffocated the air to the point where colors were dancing around in the air and I felt higher and higher as I bounced, laying on my back, around the bouncy house. \n\nI was told it was a mere accident. My mother had tripped over a few cables that were misplaced by some of the technicians that had arrived the previous day on the late evening, and broke her neck due to the fall. The big clown smiles never faded or shifted into another image, becoming instead monstruous, gruesome and the laughter was now squeaky and the high pitched took over my hearing. \n\nAccidents happen, Lewis. She will always be in your heart. And you’ll always have me. \n\nThe lies that hid so subtly behind my father’s words were not apparent to me at first. Sweeping some of my overgrown hair to the side of my face, I offered a smile to my father; a smile that was returned with a similar one, yet as mine was given with amenity and wholeheart, my father’s seemed to be but a faulting copy of mine. I watched him get up while I remained sitting on my knees at the floor and the soft paws of Caesar following my father’s into his office. His absence was overshadowed by the silence and I played further into the evening as the chorus of cries that I had heard earlier on my mother’s funeral played as a tenuous lullaby while the night gave in. \n\nThe weeks that followed I turned into something similar to a solitary prisioner. The food was brought to my astronomical room by the quiet and syrupy servant my mother had hired some years ago and her entrance acted as the only point of familiarity I had with the old lifestyle I was surrounded with. There were no more thundery voices around the house and the parties rapidly descended from a few to none, until only me and my father shared a monumental mansion perpetually held in a baleful silence. \n\nThe muteness was broken only by the rare meetings between myself and the old man, when he would leave his office. I could see the dust trail seeping away from the thin strip of light leaking from the inside, disturbed lonesomely by a moving shadow that I imagined to be Caesar’s boney body moving around. The feline walked in silence and only the disturbance to the light would reveal his existence to me, as I stood behind the corner, glancing. My father would come and we would exchange a few pleasantries, a few more lies to feed the necessities of his fatherly ego as I was left with an empty room in an empty life due to his brain. \n\nAs time passed, my father became scrawny and I worried he would simply fall down flat on the floor and break his bones into a million pieces. Caesar resumed his existence to a confinement inside the lean man’s office and not even the lights danced as he stood sole in one place, watching over my father’s grim research, I imagined. I dared not to call him father anymore. When the nights were darker, I heard strange sounds and saw him chasing around Caesar at midnight. Through the mansion’s corridors I seemed to hear both of them running, my father’s eyes in a blank matter of fury and wonderment while the feline moved fluent and graceful through the shadows lended by the corners and statues.\n\nHe’s old, Lewis. You know how old stuff work. They know much, don’t they? They know so much. \n\nThe night I saw my dad on the living room’s carpet, I shed a tear. Only one, as accurately as I can remember. The moonlight raged through the heavy curtains and my father’s body layed on a bloody carpet, drenched in crimson, in a wicked alignment with my father’s skewed arms. The legs were inclined in a sinister position and as much as I tried to wrap my head around the enigma, I could not see a real possiblity to how his body would end up in that wicked state. \n\nThroughout the years, there was the image of Caesar sitting on top of my father’s smashed head, licking the human man’s blood as the malevolent red bathed his fur and fangs and the black spots came to show when the moon would shimmer upon them. Caesar licked his fangs and I ran. \n________________________________________________________________\n\nStill facing the feline in all the glorious nudity I had greeted a greyish person with, I placed a finger on the portable’s cage and the creature inside moved around. A slight motion revealed the old whiskers and the fur, still crimson stained around the fangs while Caesar seemed to grin, fully aware of the condition I was facing.\n\nAs the nervousness froze my arms, I felt sweat dripping between my eyebrows and resting on the dark circles beneath my bloated eyes. The night had by now hugged the city and moonlight illuminated the portable, following into my chest and, in a final motion, dropping some light over my profoundly troubled, intumescent gaze. I wondered if Caesar had come to finish his job and his duty was one that could not simply be forgotten with time. He would live throughout the years, to some as curse, to some an awakening, but for now, I knew’d come to cease this cycle. ", "The first thing anyone notices about Hamford is the smell. They do not expect the smell. I had thought, as a child, that the smell came from my grandfather, because, as most people know, senior citizens are our nation's third leading producer of strange, mildly upsetting aromas, directly behind Arby's and that spot below the pier where teenage boys smoke cigarettes and fart on each other.\n\nBut no. The smell came from Hamford. He picked it out himself.\n\nIt's Brut he explained, on the day he came to live with me. I like to smell like a cowboy.\n\nThis, it turned out, was just the first of many impositions one must accept when taking responsibility for the health and well-being of a 200 year old gerbil.\n\nHamford is, by his mere existence, the last remaining link back to the true glory days of my family's scientific past, when we Risenbaums were kings of the test tube and electric probe set. \n\nYou see, my great-great-great-great-grandfather Mischel served Tsar Alexander the First as Chief Alchemical Sorcerer. After presenting the Tsar with a truth serum that turned out to be nothing more than spearmint-flavored vodka in an old perfume bottle, Mischel was tasked with unlocking the key to immortality. Failure would result in death. \n\nMischel's years of research, toil, and gross disregard for anything approaching professional ethics led to three major breakthroughs: the Great Siberian Zombie Apocalypse of 1812, an ancient cocaine-and-licorice infused forebear of Mr. Pibb called Comrade Zukov, and Hamford the gerbil.\n\nUnfortunately, Mischel was unable to formulate an immortality serum that worked on anything else. In fact, from a purely scientific perspective, I suppose it could be argued that Hamford was, if not already immortal at the time he entered Mischel's service, then at the very least heavily predisposed towards immortality.\n\nMischel was saved from execution, however, when Alexander helpfully caught a cold and died from it. Hamford and his master then traveled to America to pursue Mad Sciencetry abroad and maybe catch a show or two.\n\nAnd so, generation after generation of Risenbaum found themselves defined by two constants: a litany of unresolved health code violations and a gerbil familiar which cannot die.\n\nFor his part, Hamford is a creature of cyclical moods and interests. It is said that he spent most of the 1920s in a deep depression, picking fights with alley cats and attempting to drown himself in rain barrels. By the late 40s, however, he had become deeply invested in the local art scene, his signature Tiny Paw Prints and Smeary Tail Smudges series was especially popular with the art buyers of the time. \n\nSomewhere in the late 70s, Hamford managed to teach himself a form of telepathic communication, which he used almost exclusively to critique and deconstruct recent episodes of Good Times.\n\nMany, many of my ancestors have convinced themselves that there is somehow money to be made in an immortal gerbil. In 1893, Clayton Risenbaum even brought Hamford all the way to the World's Fair in Chicago, quite certain that his deathproof gerbil would be the talk of the fair. Yes, at an event where the world first experienced the Ferris Wheel, the automatic dish washer, the zipper, shredded wheat, and Pabst Blue Ribbon, he was going to steal the show with an especially old gerbil. \n\nI, of course, have no such designs for Hamford. To me, he is simply an amiable companion to have around the lab. He has seen much, and from an unfamiliar vantage point. His stories are always interesting, though sometimes he can become distant. He speaks wistfully of the 15,000 children he has fathered, but never truly known. If he could go back and do it again, he believes he might do a few things differently. \n\nSoon, though, I will have to say goodbye to Hamford. It occurred to me early in my stewardship of this immortal gerbil that we Risenbaum's had been very shortsighted indeed. There is, you see, a great scientific purpose yet to be served by Hamford - Emissary to the Stars. They say it will take a rocket ship millennia to escape our galaxy. Well, here I have a being, born and raised in the navel of science, with millennia yet to spare! \n\nWhat wonders will Hamford discover out there, in the vast, colorless void of night? What monsters? What glory?\n\nWas there ever a creature so lucky? ", "\"Oh fuck off,\" Eileen said, and flung her phone across the room. Her husband, Kian, walked into the kitchen just in time to dodge, watching her phone go skittering across the floor. He turned back to her with an eyebrow raised. \n\n\"That was your brother, right?\" he said. \n\n\"Yeah.\" Eileen sighed, running a hand through her hair. \"Sorry. It's just - It's the, uh, family pet. Snowball. Byron's found a job in China. And there are immigration restrictions against genetically modified orga - well, Snowball's not even genetically modified, I don't know the exact definition of what they did to it. Anyway, he can't bring the pet with him. So.\" \n\nKian retrieved the phone and tapped on its screen. It still seemed to be working fine, although Byron had long since hung up. \"So? I don't see the big deal. We can keep Snowball with us. I don't mind.\"\n\n\"No, no, no,\" Eileen said quickly, reaching for her phone. \"I'm calling Byron back right now. We agreed, it's his responsibility, he doesn't get to just dump this on me because -\"\n\n\"Whoa,\" Kian said, pulling the phone out of her reach. \"What's the big deal about Snowball anyway? I mean, from everything you told me about him, he just sits around and doesn't do much of anything. And I think it'd be kind of cool to have an immortal cat hanging around the house. A little piece of history.\" \n\n\"It's not -\" Eileen sighed. \"He's ... he's just weird, that's all. He's weird to have around. It was creepy growing up with him, it's creepy - It's creepy having a living science experiment hanging around the house, okay? My great-great-grandfather did the immortality experiments on him, right? And ever since then, he's just been passed down from generation to generation like a living reminder of failure.\"\n\nKian pulled up a chair, patted the table and motioned for her to sit. \"You never told me you felt this way about it. I mean, I never knew you were that invested in the whole immortality thing. I thought everyone gave that up as a dead end centuries ago.\" \n\n\"No, it's not ...\" Eileen ignored his gesture and bobbed on her heels instead. \"It's not that. It's ...\" She put her hands to her temples. \"I'm sorry, Kian, maybe I should have told you this sooner, but it's always been a family thing, and -\"\n\nThe phone in Kian's hand buzzed. He held it up to show her Byron was calling. \"What is going with this cat, babe?\" \n\nShe grabbed the phone from him and let out a breath. \"I'll talk to Byron. We'll talk to Byron. You'll see what I'm talking about.\"\n\n--\n\nAn hour later, the couple were knocking on Byron's door. He opened it sheepishly, running a hand through his buzz cut. \"Sis. I'm really sorry about this. You know I wouldn't dump this on you if there were literally any other option -\"\n\n\"Oh, shut it,\" she said, brushing past him and stomping into his house. \"We're here so Kian can see Snowball, that's all, and then the two of us will decide what happens next. The two of us, you get that, By?\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah.\" He blinked and glanced at Kian. \"Hey, man. So, uh, how much did she tell you about -\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" Eileen cut in. \"I haven't told him anything yet.\"\n\n\"Well, I mean, I know all about your great-great-grandfather,\" Kian said, \"and how he managed to make this prototype immortality serum, but it didn't work all the way ...? I don't actually know what the cat looks like now, though, just that - that the serum was never approved for human testing.\" Kian frowned. \"So what the hell happened to that cat anyway? Eileen's getting all upset about it, and I don't ...\"\n\nByron glanced at his sister, and then grinned awkwardly at Kian. \"Well, uh, I guess that's why she brought you here, right?\" \n\n\"Yeah,\" Eileen said, and then took her husband's hands. \"Kian. I am so sorry about this. I should have told you earlier. I knew, I knew there was a pretty good chance Byron wouldn't be able to take care of Snowball forever. But it's just ... I was so used to just keeping this out of sight, putting it out of my mind...\"\n\nKian gripped his wife's hands. \"Babe. I am freaking out just a little bit here. What the hell happened to that cat?\" \n\nShe glanced over his shoulder at Byron. \"You still keeping him in the back room?\" \n\n\"Uh-huh.\" \n\nThey stood in front of a closed door, Byron hanging back, hands in his pockets. Eileen opened the door a crack, pressing her body to it, preventing Kian from looking in. \"He's, uh, he's skittish,\" she said. \"Gotta make sure he doesn't escape. Just give me a moment...\" She slipped through the door, closing it behind her. Kian shot a look back at Byron, who just shrugged and grinned. \n\nThe door creaked open again and Eileen slipped back out, shutting it behind her with one hand as her free arm struggled to keep hold of something that looked like a skinned bagpipe. \n\n\"Oh my god,\" Kian said. \n\nIt looked out at the world with glassy green eyes, bulging out of its head and focused on nothing, everything. It was completely devoid of fur, its gut swollen and translucent. Its limbs stuck out at rictus angles, the dark mass of bone visible through the skin. It moved in her arms, but it wasn't stretching or twitching or curling up. It flowed. \n\n\"G-good kitty,\" Kian muttered, and put out a hand to touch it. \"Ugh! It's clammy.\" \n\n\"Yeah,\" Eileen said with a grimace, looking down at the thing in her arms. \n\n\"Is it...\" Kian started. \"Is it still aware? It doesn't seem to be moving. It didn't react when I touched it.\" \n\n\"It's ... it's aware in a sense,\" Eileen sighed. She scooped the thing up in both arms and squeezed a sound like a meow out of it. She hung her head, almost in tears. \"We've been able to get reactions out of it. I can't - I had to live with this growing up, and knowing, and knowing that maybe there was something in there, and ...\"\n\n\"Hey, hey,\" Kian said quickly. \"It's not ... okay, it's really freaky-looking, but it's not that bad. It's immortal, so we don't have to do much to take care of it, and I'm sure I could get used to seeing that thing around the house, and -\"\n\n\"No,\" Eileen said. \"You don't get it. When my family talks about Snowball, what they're really saying is ...\" She set the cat down on the floor where it sprawled open like an anatomy diagram, and turned back to the door of the back room. \"The serum was never approved for human testing. That's true. But it still existed. It was still around. And if someone was on the verge of death, and was desperate enough...\"\n\nIn one motion she flung open the door. Kian stepped back involuntarily, a scream catching in his throat. \n\n\"I want you to meet my great-great-grandfather.\"" ]	4
	[WP] After a well-known serial killer killed your spouse, you got a job as a guard at his prison to get revenge, that is, until you met the man.	[ "The prisoner scratched a notch with a long pointed fingernail into the rough concrete wall, shot a shaky thumbs up to the camera in the corner of the cell and reset the handmade chess board in front of him. The monumental effort of reaching out a withered hand while fighting the tremors that threatened to scatter the pieces at any moment repeated itself thirty two times until all the pieces were in their appropriate place. \n\n\"Pawn to C4\" \n\nThe speaker crackled as the elderly guard announced his move through the intercom into the heavily padded cell. He watched on the monitor for his piece to move. A feeble hand, bent and twisted from the years spent doing manual labor within the prisons walls slowly crept out and picked up the white pawn, moving it to it's destination. The hand shifted slightly, pausing to pick up a black pawn and move to E5. \n\nThe guard sat back in his chair, reflecting not for the first time on the bizarre turn of events that had brought him here. \n\n\"Pawn to G3\" years had the prisoner and the guard sat playing on the worn out board. Their skills almost a perfect match for one another, most matches ending in stalemate but year after year the games continued and the notches on the wall showing the victories, losses and draws continued to grow. \n\nAfter all the other prisoners had fallen asleep the elderly guard and the man who killed his wife played chess long into the night. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] In a world where everyone lucid dreams, doctors recommend that healthy adults be awake for at least 8 hours every day.	[ "The ninja flicks his katana, the blade tapping my chin. I do not flinch. The pirate captain insisted on having me infiltrate the society and discover the secret to the ninja smoke bombs. Hopefully the pirate scientists(he's the one who knows how to read) could figure out how to make the cannons release smoke too. To make us cooler.\n\n\"I will rend your spirit, seeker,\" the ninja growls.\n\n\"With your dull blade or your dull wit?\" and with that riposte my cutlass knocks the katana into the ceiling, where it hangs, quivering. I knock my opponent to the ground with a roundhouse kick, and lower my shades.\n\n\"Any last words?\" I ask, deciding to just take his clothing and impersonate him.\n\nThe ninja spits blood onto the floor and glares at me. \"If you think you can cross the Satubas and walk away you better WAKE UP JIM!\"\n\nI wake up to Mike slapping me repeatedly in the face.\n\n\"Woah, woah. I'm awake,\" I fend him off. \"Why am I awake?\" I glare at him. My pod isn't on fire, I haven't run out of IV, and I'm not developing bedsores. \n\n\"The doctors advise everyone to stay awake for at least 8 hours a day. You heard about the side effects, right?\" \n\nMike looks at me quizzically. God, how is he this energetic when he's awake? Either he's got no imagination or just very easily satisfied. I rub my eyes blearily and sit on my pod, unhooking myself off the myriad of devices designed to ensure I don't perish while asleep.\n\n\"Look, just go get some coffee, alright?\" Mike insists. \n\n\"Too much lucid dreaming means you stop being able to tell the difference between real life and dreams, and then you get super paranoid,\" he helpfully exposits, making wild hand gestures with his fingers.\n\n\"Yeah, alright,\" I wave him off. He looks at me warily, then slides away. Why does he keep trying to wake me up? I swear there's some other reason at play. I sit there for a few minutes before working up the energy to go for coffee. I do think I'll fly over there and grab one infused with the blood of demons. Or whipped cream.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You finally resurrect someone. The first thing they say is "Son? Is that you?"	[ "In a cold darkened chamber, deep deep down below,\n\nI poured over my research, my eyes all aglow\n\nI have finally done it! It is finally time!\n\nThe secrets of Death have now are finally mine! \n\nI poured out a beaker, full of foul-smelling goo\n\nThe torches burned brighter, shining over my brew\n\nI called out some words, and they burned brighter still\n\nShivers ran down my spine. Necromancy's a thrill!\n\nI threw in some old bones that I found in the moor\n\nThey rattled and shook, and became drenched in gore\n\nFlesh grew through them like water, poured into a mold\n\nAnd despite the hot torches, the room soon grew cold\n\n\"Aha! Eureka!\" I yelled out with a cry! \n\nI KNEW I'd succeed! Now I will NEVER die! \n\nI cackled a cackle, giddy from my success \n\nIgnoring the figure in certain distress\n\nIt moaned and it groaned, rolling into a ball\n\nIt bumped into a table, and then into the wall\n\nWith it's muscles still shaking, it pushed hard and stood\n\nIt looked to my face, and it looked to my hood\n\nI reached out for a crossbow, eyes still shining like dew\n\nWhen the figure spoke up with a \"Son? Is that you?\"\n\nMy eyes wide with shock, I realized who it was\n\nWho stood now in my lair, and who now gave me pause\n\n\"Father!? What happened! Could that really be you?\"\n\nAnd I just nearly killed him! The thought made me turn blue\n\n\"Of course it is me, oh you silly buffoon!\n\nNow go play outside, and get out of this room!\n\nA boy of your age should get out in the sun\n\nYou shouldn't stay in, that can't be REAL fun!\"\n\n\"Yes, Dad.\" I moped, walking out to the door\n\nI pulled off the old sweatshirt that Dad always wore\n\nI sighed a great sigh, leaving my mess behind\n\nOne day soon, with some luck I will rule all mankind!\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] After your doctor is finished checking your heartbeat, he runs for his life.	[ "“Let’s just get this over with”, he muttered in the waiting room under his breath. He never really liked going to the doctor’s office, for whatever reason. He really couldn’t tell you why, it just felt wrong. As if he knew that someday he was bound to run into no good. At the Doctor’s office, of all places.\n\n“Jason May to see Dr. Harrington.” A voice interrupted, stopping him from further dwelling over his seemingly trivial dilemma.\n\nHe rose from the cushy seat he familiarized myself with in the hall, and made his way to who he assumed was a nurse. He took care of all the formalities usually associated with a checkup, updating his information in the system, filling out clipboards, the works. After he was finally done he was directed towards a room down the hallway and to the left. Jason’s sense of dread irrationally grew stronger with every step he took. \n\n“Man, I really need to get this under control. Is this what it feels like to have a phobia?” He thought to himself, as he stood facing the door, Dr. Harrington’s door.\n\n“No problem, I can do this. Just a normal checkup,” he assured himself. But still, he froze as his arm was extended halfway, suspended in the air and reaching towards the door knob.\n\n“Come in,” a voice called from inside. Jason assumed that the Doctor must have heard his footsteps in the hallway as he approached. Jason couldn’t hear his footsteps, the thumping in his chest was all his ears could focus on.\n\n“Hi.” Jason meekly answered as he opened the door and stepped inside, making note of the strange décor of the dark room. There were trophy cases in the back wall, a large fish tank to its left, and a taxidermied animal in one of the corners. The room was wall papered in the ugliest plaid Jason had ever seen, colors clashing as if they were chosen at random.\nThis, of course, did nothing to alleviate his fears.\n\n“I see here that you’re in for a simple checkup,” stated Dr. Harrington. He stared at you with a broad grin, slapping the patient bench to his right.\n\n“Hop on, I’ll start with getting your heart rate. Although, I have a feeling what it’ll come out to,” he bellowed, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”\n\nJason responded to the doctor’s joke with a weak smile, still not able to shake the odd feeling that shrouded him. He climbed onto the patient bed and waited as the doctor pressed the stethoscope to his chest, feeling the cold metal through his shirt. Jason thought that attempting small talk would help lighten the mood.\n\n“So…this is a strange room you’ve got here Doc.”\n\n“Oh yes, you can certainly say that,” the doctor responded, “I can see you’ve spotted wall paper I’ve put up. I find it makes for interesting conversation. That, and how dark I keep the lights in here”\n\n“Yeah, I guess I was wondering about that,” replied Jason, already feeling a bit better, “But to be honest I was wondering even more about that taxidermied bear you have in the corner there.”\n\n“What bear?” The Doctor was saying, turning around when the room was filled with a deafening roar.\n\n“WHAT THE FUCK!” Harrington shouted out, as the large figure started moving out of the dark corner of the room. The Doctor dropped the stethoscope and scrambled for the door, running down the hallway.\n\nJason wasn’t as quick to act, gripped with fear as the bear started to charge at him. At the last second he finally found his courage and leapt for the doorway, as he felt the bear catch his leg, dragging him back in. \n\nWhile on the floor he turned his head to face the bear, staring it right in the eyes.\n\n“Well, I guess this is what I was scared of,” thought Jason. “Could’ve been worse.”\n\n\n\n\n\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n\n\n\n\nSo this was my first story. Not as happy with it as I would've hoped, but it could've been worse I guess.\n", "\"Okay Susie, I am going to check your heartbeat with my stethoscope! Now, can you say stethoscope? Try it with me...steth-o-scope.\"\n\nLittle Susie tried. \"Stepha-cope\"\n\nThe doctor, in his white coat, laughed. \"That was pretty close!\"\n\nSusie watched the doctor put the stethoscope in his ears as he flipped through his clipboard full of medical papers.\n\n\"Susie, I see that you have missed many of your flu shots. When your parents pick you up, I will tell them about the shots you need to take. Is that alright?\"\n\nSusie made a sour face. She never liked flu shots.\n\nIn response to Susie's countenance, the doctor sighed. \"Shots are not that bad... they keep us healthy...\"\n\nAs he continued talking about keeping healthy, the doctor continued with Susie's checkup and put the stethoscope on Susie's heart. To much of his surprise, there was no pulse. The doctor looked at Susie's pink princess shirt again. He placed the stethoscope on the correct side.\n\n\"Susie, is there anything under your shirt?\"\n\nSusie shook her head with great emphasis that there was nothing under her shirt.\n\nThe doctor put the stethoscope on her heart again. There was a pulse. That was good! But the pulse was getting faster. And louder. 160...180...200... 220...\n\n\nThe doctor jumped back and threw the stethoscope on the ground. Susie screamed. Blood splattered across the floor and a creature slithered out of the child's helpless body. It had seven legs, two heads, and a long tail. It was covered in Susie's blood. With great force, the creature threw Susie's body across the floor, killing her instantly.\n\nThe doctor, not sure of Susie's previous medical condition, ran out of the room, locked the door, and shouted for a nurse to call 911.\n\nAs the doctor instructed orders, there was a loud crash in the room. The creature had broken a window in the room.\n\nThirty six people would die that day.\n\n=-=-=-=\n\nAnd that Kids, is why we should take flu shots during the winter season.", "As I sat nervously on, on what really was a soft comfortable chair for the waiting room chair, I could feel my stomach grind like I had eaten a pound of nails for lunch. I tried my best to focus on the room. Pretty roomy, I thought to myself looking around a room designed for 50 or so people. The waiting room was nice, it sort of felt warm. The walls were painted with natural colors a couple generic art pieces hanging from the wall. My stomach started to creep back into my mind, I leaned back feeling a slight bit of comfort, followed by a deafening sense of the complete silence in the room. The grinding in my stomach made the silence feel like a horn blaring white noise two feet in front of my face. I could feel my skin crawl with every silent tick of time that went on as I waited.\n\n“…Daniel Artsen!... hey hon are you there?” a small women dressed in scrubs, holding a clipboard. The silence was broken… or maybe wasn’t there. She had a look of confusion on her face. \n\n“Didn’t you hear me hun? I was calling your name” Her face quickly turned to a smile. “Come on in, the doctor is ready for you.”\n\nI picked myself up, trying to focus on following this tiny woman to hopefully the solution to my problems. She led me to a small platter in the corner of the room. \n\n“Step right up hun” She said with the most innocent smile a person could have. “One-eighty-five, looks like you lost a little weight since we last saw you.” The sweetness of her voice was growing on me. As I looked into her big green eyes she reached out, sticking a cold sensor in my ear. \n\n “Ooh you’re burning up.” She scrunched her face in an immediate sense of alert. She shuffled me into a room. \n\n\nRoom 8. \n\nThis room was less inviting. The nurse pulled out another sheet from her giant toilet paper roll over the vinyl coated examination bed. Sat me down and left the room. My time alone was short. Only long enough to remind myself of the ever increasing stomach grinding at the pit of my stomach.\n“How are you doing Dan?” Doctor Clark asked as he entered the room. Staring into his clip board.\n\n“Not so well Doc.” I tried my best to not grimace in pain when I spoke. \n\nHe looked up at me for the first time. “What’s been going on?”\n\n“My stomach is killing me, it hurts so bad, I can hardly function.” My words spiraled from explanation to the strains of holding back tears.\n\nGiving a sincere look of concern, he sat on his stool. Pulling out his stethoscope, “Let’s see what’s going on.” He rubbed his hands together gather enough friction to warm the cold tool. As he set the shiny metal sensor against my chest, a warm sensation came over me. My body began to vibrate in uncontrollable minute shakes.\n\nDoctor Clark looked up at me, his caring look of concern was replaced with a look of puzzlement. With an authoritarian command he asked “What did you say?” \n\n“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.” I couldn’t piece together what had just happened or how he didn’t notice what felt like a seizure. He dug the hard steel into my chest this time. Without care, but replaced with a cold determination. He held it tight against my chest, this time with an almost psychopathic stare into my eyes. The vibrating returned like a freight train running though my chest shaking me down to my toes. Doctor Clark watched suspiciously with his laser stare visibly being replaced with a growing look of shock. As the whites of his eyes began to show, I felt of shot of Adrenalin run down my spine. In a single instant my skin turned to the rough consistency of freshly feathered poultry. As the hair on the back of my neck rose I felt the warm rush of blood under my skin flushing my cheeks with red and my neck filled with warmth. Before I could react to my overwhelming dose of adrenaline, Doctor Clark jumped up. Without breaking his gaze, he punched the side of my temple. The blast of his fist, flashed a light across my eyes so bright I thought it was a camera flash. My brain started to enter a reboot, but the force of his MD weight clinical boxing glove knocked my off my vinyl couch cushion. MY body seemed to take over in an almost reptilian claw for the over-sized toilet paper square. I got a hold of it, I thought to myself in some delusional misguided sense of accomplishment as my head fell towards the hard tile floor. In the fleeting fraction of a second before blacking out upon impact of the tiles, I could see Doctor Clark darting out the room, still holding the stethoscope that gave his fist and extra bit of force. As my head hit the floor everything went black.\n\n\n\nExam Room 10\n\nI started to open my eyes. The light glared in shooting shrapnel into the back of my head. One of my eyes seems to no want to open. I can feel the swollen side of my head. I started to take a physical inventory. Every muscle in my body ached. My back felt twisted with exhaustion. All my aches were quickly masked, a deep electrical shock of pain ran from my temple to my eye. My body jerked from the pain, instinctually my hand reached up towards my eyes. In a futile reflex my arm moved 6 inches and stopped. The force dug the newly noticed handcuffs into my wrists. Adding another source of discomfort to my database of pain. “What the hell is going on.” I thought to myself.\n\n\nTwo uniformed officers walked into the room, announcing their presence in silent unity. Neither of the two officers broke their very serious demeanor as they line up on both sides of the door. A third man came in. He was about 40, he was wearing slacks and a clean off white button up. He came in seemingly in a good mood. He pulled a chair next to my bed. He then pulled out a small pad a paper and a black pilot fountain pen. As he sat down, with a smooth used car salesmen voice, he asked “How are you feeling?” He paused and looked up at the officers standing by the door. “Can we get him a soda.” Looking back, “Do you want a soda, or chips?”\n\n“No, what’s going on?” I asked in confusion.\n\nHe continued on with his used car salesmen nicety, “Well that’s what I need you to tell me.” Shuffling to a page in his ledger, “How do you know Clark Widdlestein?”\n\n“He’s my doctor. I’ve been coming here for years.” I told him with the last bits of energy I had in my.\n\n“Are you mad at the doctor? Did he do something to you?” As he continued with his question I interrupted him, “Who are you, what’s going on?”\n\n“Well, I am detective Michal Hancock. I am investigating the attempted kidnapping and murder that you alerted the doctor to.” He explained in such a nonchalant way I almost could believe this was all an elaborate prank. \n\n“I don’t know what you are talking about.” He stopped me.\n\n“Do you remember what you said before the doctor hit you?”\n\n“I think I told him I was sick…” The detective jumped in. \n\n“Yeah your sick alright. Sick in the fucking head.” He paused, “How did you get in bed with these two.”\n\n“What are you saying.” He interrupted me again before I could say more.\n\n“So what was the plan, torture the doc a little while your two buddies rape and murder his wife and kid.” His used car salesmen smile was supplanted with a stern look they must teach in the academy.\n\nHe shuffled his notepad a few more pages, “They’re killing him. He’s going to die, Sam Widdlestein is going to die.” He looked up staring at me in a blank look, every ounce of his brain being used to study my next words. “That’s what you said to the doctor.” He looked back down on his pad. “Marthas dead… dead…. dead…”, looking up again. “Do you remember saying that Mr. Artensen?” The used car salesmen confidence returned. “Well I know you sick fuck will be sad to hear the kid made it.” He smiled. “That old bastard of a doctor burst in after knocking the lights out of you. He got there just in time. They were just finishing up with his wife and were going to off the boy.” \n\nMy stomach returned with a vengeance. I could feel spikes of pain shooting down my back from my stomach. I could feel it taking over my body. I couldn’t handle the pain any more, I started to vomit from the pain.\n\n“Don’t like hearing about your buddies?” The detective looked at me with pompous judgement. A small smirk came over his face. “They stabbed the boy, but his dad made it home on time. He fought two men off… The strength of a fathers love. Took a quite a beating himself. What is the doc 60? 70? Still had it in him after all these years.” The pain had over taken my thoughts at this point. I started sweating profusely. The detective continued, “Well they are both here, the boy and his father made it. We even managed to catch your two scum bucket buddies. They are on the hook for the wife. They will give you to us with a bow.” He paused and smiled, closing his notepad. “You will be on the hook for everything those psychos did.” As he walked towards the door, he gave one last poke. The pain was at the point where I couldn’t decipher words. “You won’t see a day of freedom once you leave this hospital, so enjoy your stay…” He walked out, the two stoic officers followed him out. I could feel the darkness creeping back on me. Slower than the blackout the tile floor had given me. With my eyes open, my exhaustion and pain started to fade, as the darkness started to overtake my eyes I could feel the fear leave me. Like a fleeting moment of an idea lost, my thoughts slipped into nothing.\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] You discover that Earth is the control group in an experiment testing whether or not planets need a deity.	[ "Ellie was already standing when she awoke. She was alone in a perfectly white room that did not appear to have edges, only a single door, directly in front of her. She was, inexplicably, fully dressed in her least favorite outfit- the one that made her look like she was on her way to her quinceanera if that quinceanera was also a parol hearing.\n\nEllie considered the possibility that she had accidentally eaten her roommate's drug laden brownies again. It wasn't impossible, she had taken more care after the third time it had happened, but her reasoning became severely limited when confronted with brownies.\n\nStill confused, Ellie did the only thing that made sense to her. She opened the door. \n\nImmediately, a wall of light blasted her retinas. She could hear muttering voices all around her and could tell by the acoustics that she was in a large, high ceilinged room. Her vision trickled back to her slowly as she stumbled forward, arms outstretched.\n\nShe had made the right guess on the space. She was at the bottom of a massive semicircular room with stepped seating. It reminded her somewhat of the House of Representatives chamber from that one time she accidentally watched CSPAN, thinking it was a new episode of Undercover Boss.\n\n“Welcome, Ellie Cartwright,” said a bored voice from directly in front of her.\n\nEllie looked, bleary eyed, at the table in front of her until the figures seated there became clear. As they did, she revisited her brownie theory. The figure in the center, whom Ellie assumed was the speaker, was average enough, a portly middle aged man in an ugly suit. The rest of the table, however, was filled with characters from a discarded Maurice Sendak sketch pad. There was some sort of fox monster, a woman with several extra sets of arms, a patch of darkness with teeth and a golden owl who made Ellie's eyes cross when she tried to look at him. From what she could make out of the rows above, it was more of the same. The portly man spoke again.\n\n“I am Dundor, God of Burocracy, I will be overseeing this exit interview.”\n\n“Exit interview?” Ellie croaked, her voice still gummy with sleep.\n\n“Yes,” said Dundor, sighing as though he thought she ought to keep up with goings-on about town better. “The divinity council has decommissioned the Earth project so we are conducting exit interviews.”\n\nEllie did not take in much of the meaning of this and felt as though there may have been a mistake.\n\n“You want to interview me?”\n\nDundor sighed again, he was apparently a bit of a pill.\n\n“We are conducting interviews with all subjects simultaneously” \n\n“Subjects?” Ellie asked, partially because she didn't understand, partially to irritate Dundor.\n\n“Yes, the Department of Absolute Power requisitioned a study to show the positive influence of deities,” droned the bureaucrat God, sending a scorching look down the table at the fox monster, who was clearly reveling in Dundor's increasing frustration. “Earth was created, humans were all allowed to muck about for a few billion years without divine influence and we're now to draw conclusions from the results.”\n\nEllie remained silent. She found the information that her and everyone else's entire lives were just part of an experiment not terribly surprising.\n\n“Let's begin,” said Dundor. “You are Ellie Cartwright, daughter of Bill and Melinda Cartwright?”\n\n“Yes,” said Ellie\n\n“You live in Brooklyn, NY, in a two bedroom apartment, with two roommates, several feet below the earth's surface?”\n\n“Uh... it's an english basement.”\n\n“You have completed 32 rotations around the Earth's sun, but tell people you are 27 years old?”\n\n“People say I look 25.”\n\n“No one says that,” corrected Dundor, checking his notes “Aside from sleeping, you have spent the greatest portion of your existence in the last year watching a television program called 'Dance Moms'?”\n\n“I...I can't be sure that's true.”\n\n“It is,” affirmed Dundor “You once ate an entire sheet cake your roommate had bought for an office party and then blamed the missing dessert on a wild raccoon?”\n\n“These seem like really leading questions,” said Ellie, blushing furiously “What are you trying to show, exactly?”\n\n“The study has just ended, we can't say anything for certain,” Dundor responded, in a much better mood now. “But without the guiding hand of an omnipotent creator, I think we can all agree that all of human history is just a series of massive fuckups.”\n\n“I don't agree that-” Ellie stopped short, finally noticing something important she had overlooked. “Wait, the study has ended, Earth has been decommissioned, we're all getting exit interviews... what is happening to earth?”\n\nThe many armed woman spoke up for the first time, “Hi, Morencia, Goddess of Turntables will field this one. To minimize distress, we plan to wipe out the existence of Earth and all it's inhabitants as soon as the interviews are over.”\n\n“You can't do that!” said Ellie\n\n“We can. I would invite you to watch, but you won't exist so that would be difficult.” explained Morencia\n\n“No,” said Ellie, trying not to plead, “you can't morally do that. You can't just shove a bunch of people who have done nothing wrong into non-existence.”\n\nThe fox monster stood and spoke in a surprisingly smooth voice, “Ellie, if humanity is so good, why do you allow bad things to happen?”\n\n“We're not perfect, but we do the best we can. There are plenty of good people in the world.”\n\n“Like you?” asked Dundor, smiling smugly as he ran a finger down his notes. “You, who threw a book at Jeff Elderman's head?”\n\n“That was in the 8th grade!” exclaimed Ellie. “And he had just cheated on me with Jill Penington!”\n\n“No one in my domain throws books,” said Morencia, “because we don't have books. But also because they're afraid of being disemboweled.”\n\n“Are you really prepare to wipe an entire species from existence because I once threw a book at that turd, Jeff Elderman?”\n\n“Jeff Elderman is a turd,” admitted Dundor “But that doesn't say much for humanity either. Thank you for your interview, Ellie Cartwright, that will be all.”\n\n“Wait!” cried Ellie, desperately. “Wait. You can give us another chance. We'll try harder. We'll be better. If anything can improve the human race it's the threat of being wiped out entirely.”\n\n“Hmm,” considered Dundor. “Pass.”\n\nEllie cursed the name of Jeff Elderman as she was ripped from existence." ]	1
[CW] Cannot end with you realising it was all but a dream. You do not wake up from a coma, but an everyday sleep.	[WP] You're 24 years old, working a job that knows no weekends. On June 29, 2016, you return from a 48 hours working spree and crash staright to bed. Wake up with the 7 a.m. alarm, but on June 30, 2036.	[ "Like every morning, 'A Good Day to be You' by M.C. Honky blasts out my phone alarm, another day grinding real life tasks, but today was my birthday, but never being social at work kept me out of trouble, and it kept me the job I needed, and many people work on their birthday, so I'm no different. June 30th, another year I've been alive, I check my phone, not expecting much in terms of news, but a text from my Grandma, like every year I get at 6:30 am when I was born, I never answer them, but it's good to see I'm remembered, 6 messages from her though, maybe she just sent some on accident, as I lock my phone and try to get out of bed, every year it gets harder, and the last couple days of work sure don't help. I start checking Reddit as I head to the bathroom to do my thing. I didn't have much time cause I still had to pick up my brother and rush him over to summer school, I'm sure other family members could have done it, but it's what I get for volunteering. I get dressed, looking out the window as I do so...\n\nAnd that's all I've got. Maybe I then check the time and date? And see my reflection in the phone face? It's basically all based off me, but I do hope I'm not 22 tonight, and wake up being 43 and still living with my parents... I haven't wrote anything since high school. It's like being nervous and hoping I didn't screw up everything...", "\nHustle. It’s what separates those who could be great from those that will be great. My father taught me that, and although he failed at a great many things in his life, It’s why people remember the man. I keep a picture of him pinned to my cubicle wall. Where most people have tacked up photos of their significant others, kids, heroes, or maybe just some comic strip with a terrible punch line, I’ve pinned up a grainy old photo of my father to motivate me. Whenever I feel defeated I look up at the man, middle aged, thin as a rail, frozen mid swing as he pulls a massive sledgehammer down over his shoulders with all his might towards some unsuspecting patch of weathered asphalt. It just takes a moment then I’m back to work, back at it harder than ever, nose to the grindstone. \n\nSometimes I get so lost in analyzing whatever safety diagnostic or efficiency report they’ve given me I’ll look up from my desk and find that every one else is gone and all the light have been turned off save the dull blue glow of my moniter. On nights like that I might take a stroll through the office halls, floating past the executives offices. I’ll peer through the textured glass and wonder how their seven hundred dollar swiveling, lumbar supported, office chair cushions will one day feel under my ass. I also take long walks through the factor wing, running my hand along the steel barrels or marveling at the sleeping mechanical behemoths that will no doubt clatter awake come morning, gears clanking spewing black smoke, and I try to remember what it feels like to sweat. \n\nThere’s no one waiting at home. When I barge through the door at 4 in he morning, drop my keys noisily on the tile, and fall face first into the mattress no one is there to give me a cross look or a comforting touch. That’s why when my alarm went off this morning, 7 AM on the dot, and I rolled over directly into a warm body it gave me a start. I shot upright in bed, heart racing, horrified to find that sleeping soundly on my right was a man, big as an oak and strong jawed, and on my left, just beginning to stir, a woman, soft skinned and dark haired. They’re both stark naked, smiling placidly, no doubt either in the depths of just waking from some peaceful dream. I pat myself quickly, I’m still wearing my rumpled shirt and tie. Still wearing black slacks. Still have two, no wait, three day stubble. I bolt. \n\nRunning down the hall I wonder to myself, did I really enter the wrong house last night? Was I that tired, that overworked? I reach for the door and just as I twist open the lock I hear high pitched scream. A young girl with a white knuckled grip on a floppy eared stuffed rabbit stares at me with frightened eyes, in an instant her mother is there, wrapped in loose bedsheets. She screams too. I push through the front door and tumble into the street, a man follows after me, naked, screaming, swinging an iron fire poker savagely. I think of my father. Hustle. Terrified I dart into oncoming traffic and wonder why there are so many cars, so many strange looking cars. Dancing between them, I scuttle across the street and look out over the hilltop at the city below. It’s different then I remember somehow, but there’s no time to think. I leap over the guard rail and find myself plummeting downwards towards what I hope is water. ", "It's all in a day's work. Okay, technically, let's make that two. I've been on this project for at least 48 hours. I'm pushing 50 by the time I manage to get home. I unlock my apartment door, and I can only breath for a moment as I slouch into the dark. My feet feel like they have cinderblocks tied to them.\n\nI don't think I could pump myself full of anymore caffeine. Much less dare to watch the news, play games, or even talk to friends or family that would be online. It's midnight again. I can only fall into bed, wincing because I just smacked my wrist on the desk next to the alarm clock. That shit hurt, but I could only muster a half-assed glare at the source of my pain. I cracked the plastic from what I could tell, which is incredible because these cheap digital clocks may as well be made of adamantium. I can only yawn a little before nodding off.\n\n\"Good morning! Today is July 30th!\" A voice chimed from next to my bed. I instinctively smacked my hand on the snooze button. I must've left it on the radio setting.\n\n\"Good morning! Today is July 30th!\" The same voice repeated again. I glanced at the clock lazily and missed the button this time. I just stared at the screen as the message started again.\n\n\"Good morning! Today is July 30th!\" It spelled out again; as I really realized what was wrong here. The clock was not a clock. I had my hand through it. I pulled back and watched the small hologram shimmer in place as it melded to it's original state. It repeated the same cheery message again, as I began looking around. The room had a different paint scheme, and I don't know where all my shit went.\n\nI still had my clothes on, and I could only get up and look around in horror. This was my apartment, sure. I looked the same, but this couldn't be possible. There were holograms everywhere. The TV wasn't a TV. The computer had no screen or keyboard. The display was projected from a cylinder suspended to the wall.\n\n\"Wha... w-where am I?\" I mustered aloud in surprise.\n\n\"Current location: home. Also known as 1578 Spruce Street, apartment #301.\" A voice responded. I glanced around for the source of the female voice, only to find a new image which had popped up next to the doorway. It was a circle which strobed sequentially in step with my own rhythm.\n\n\"What time is it?\" I asked feverishly.\n\n\"Approximately 7:15 A.M., Central Time Zone.\" The voice responded again. Bizarrely enough the voice reminded me of the Siri app from Apple.\n\n\"Ummm...\" I wondered in jest, \"Siri?\"\n\n\"It's Robin, actually.\" The voice corrected, \"Siri was one of my predecessors.\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ.\" I stammered as I realized it understood me.\n\n\"Jesus Christ, central figure of the religion known as Christianity-\" Robin began.\n\n\"No, no, stop Robin.\" I ordered quickly. I wonder if... \"Robin; what year is it?\"\n\n\"The date is June 30th, 2036.\" Robin asked pleasantly, \"Will that be all sir?\"\n\n\"I... I'm going for a walk Robin. Thank you.\" I said in nausea as I began to head for the door.\n\n\"I'm sensing elevated stress levels sir.\" Robin seemed to realize, \"Are you well?\" I noticed the dot had materialized in the kitchen with me now.\n\n\"No, I just need to get fresh air.\" I responded.\n\n\"Well if that's all, don't forget your ComSat, sir.\" Robin explained as the dot traced a light arrow across the counter to a small wristband. I hesitantly slid the wrist on, and watched it tighten into place. The display lit up across my arm for a split second. My driver's license, my name, my credit cards, it was all there. It quickly blinked to nothing as I glanced away from it.\n\n\"How the fuck?\" I began.\n\n\"Just like checking a watch, look up what you need and it will do it.\" Robin reminded, \"It's as if you've never used one before, sir.\"\n\n\"Uhhhhh.... Yeah.\" I nodded as I slid out the door. The building seemed the same until I left. I saw the difference in clothing immediately, with slightly fluorescent shirts being popular apparently. One rather stunning woman wore a set of ski goggles that projected emojis over the eyes. She winked at me, and I didn't know what to say as she walked on. I stepped into the street and nearly got struck by a F150. At least that's what it said it was on the side. A VTOL suddenly passed over head, the screen on it reminding people of the upcoming 4th of July.\n\nI accidentally bumped into some guy wearing a Guy Fawkes mask with lit eyeholes and Jordans next.\n\n\"Watch it cunt.\" The man exclaimed as he pushed me away, \"You want some salt?\"\n\n\"Get fucked Orwell.\" I deadpanned instinctively as he disappeared into the pedestrians walking around.\n\n\"This is totally going on my vlog.\" A preteen nearby noted as she walked closer suddenly, a small cassette hologram slowly rotating between us as she held up her arm, \"Hey what's with that fleek getup you're wearing? You look like you just came out of the Obama administration.\"\n\n\"Kinda'...\" I shrugged as she giggled and left with some friends. I still couldn't quite pull myself together with what I'd just seen. I needed to find somebody I knew. Somebody had to have an answer.\n\nHow the hell did this all happen???\n" ]	3
	[WP] You've found a magic typewriter, and everything you type will come to life.	[ "##The Legacy Box\n\nThe box sits on my kitchen table for two weeks before I can bring myself to open it.\n\nThe cardboard, complete with dented corners and bound around with strapping tape, seems too mundane to contain something as expansive and intangible as a legacy.\n\nThe box smells musty and damp and immediately it's like I'm in my grandparents cellar - the many summers pulling popsicles from the chest freezer down there, the many winters getting potatoes from the bin for dinner. \n\nI use my house key to slit the tape on the top of the box and fold back the flaps, still oddly reluctant to see what was inside.\n\nClosed, it could be anything. Open... It means that my grandmother sent me my grandfather's most prized possession. And that means that he is dead. Tomorrow is Sunday and my bi-weekly call home. Gram will ask about it.\n\nIt's funny that the mystery contents of the box feels more like an affirmation of his passing than the funeral was.\n\nThe heavy dark metal of an antique manual typewriter is nestled in crumpled brown paper, looking for all the world like an old cash register. It startles me into a laugh. \n\nMy grandfather was a brilliant crime reporter for many years, actually helping to solve many complicated investigations and getting gruesome scoops many hours before his rivals. \n\nI have no doubt that this machine is where he first worked long into the night, composing his articles to send to his editor for the early edition. I pictured him hunched over this machine, cold coffee at his elbow and a cigarette in his mouth.\n\nThe body is well-cared for and and rust-free. The white enamel keys are bright and unchipped. Gold lettering proudly declares that it's a 'Royal Standard'.\n\nI lift it out, the weight awkward and ungainly, and notice a card rolled onto the cylinder, the edge just peeping out.\n\nI roll the card up and pluck it out. It's yellowed on the edges, obviously having been there for years.\n\n My dearest grandson,\n\n Always type your dreams and they will always come true.\n\n With love, Papa\n\nI hold back tears with my eyes stinging and pack the typewriter back into the box. I tuck the flaps together to hold it shut and leave the card on the table. I carry the heavy burden of my legacy to the closet.\n\nI put it on the floor and slide it to the back, next to the Christmas tree and the winter boots.\n\nOn the way back to the kitchen, I grab my laptop.\n\nI pour myself another cup of coffee and fumble the tape from the junk drawer.\n\nAt the table, I stir sugar into my cup and tape the card to the lid of my computer. \n\nI wake the laptop from sleep mode and open a new document.\n", "He sat alone at the small writing table, the mechanical sound of the typewrite's keys being used echoed in the room. He could do anything, create anything, be anyone, if he so desired. In one room in the mansion he created himself, was piles of money, and in another, large and open as a theater, was a library brimming with every book imaginable. There were dozens of rooms with dozens of things the he thought he wanted.\n\nBut with everything at his fingertips, he still felt alone, felt unworthy of it all, ever since his wife died a year ago. Two months after her funeral, he received the typewriter in the mail from an unknown address, attached was a small letter reading,\n\n\"Be God, create!\"\n\nAnd so, he did. Now, however, he needed his wife. The loneliness was too much, none of the picture perfect women with the perfectly crafted personalities filled the empty void. As he held tears at bay, he typed into the machine,\n\n\"My wife, Trisha Henry.\"\n\nHe yanked away his hands, as if the typewriter was burning hot, then waited and waited, and waited. An hour, then two, went by with no sound except his breathing. A sudden knock at the door broke the monotony, he quickly turned in his chair and began to stand, but when the door creaked open, he sat back down.\n\nIn limped his wife, mangled and decaying. Clumps of her hair dangled from the side of her bloodied head. Her arms twisted in odd angles at the elbows, and one of her legs was smashed flat, being dragged as she moved forward. The misty pupil-less orbs in her scabbed head rolled as if trying to see.\n\nTears erupted from his eyes and screams exploded from his mouth. The world reeled, he turned to the keyboard, nearing falling from his chair and began to type with trembling hands,\n\n\"My wife, Trisha Henry, dead.\"\n\nStill shaking terribly, he peered over his shoulder to find she was gone. The only remnants of her horrible revival was the stench of soil lingering in the air.", "'Magic typewriter,' read the pamphlet, 'makes real the written word'.\n\"Bollocks,\" said Will, \"Let see how it handles this then.\" \n >barrel of exploded horse rectum \nWill instantly regretted his life choices. Before him sat the ends of horse colons bloomed like meaty flowers dying in the autumn. Rich and red in colour and emitting an unsettling amount of heat. \nThey smelled like an abattoir that had been used to filter an alcoholics bowels movements for corn. \n > some sentient creature to experience this with \nBefore him stood a purple Rhino named Alice, Evident by the name tag, A male Rhino, but Alice isn't necessarily a girls name among all known purple rhino so who is to judge. \n\"Why? would this be what you create?\" asked Alice in a tragically Scottish accent. \n\"I'm not going to stand here beside a barrel of hot rancid horse arse flowers being berated by a trans purple Scottish rhino.\" \nWill left and Alice had no fingers. In fear of more Wills the rhino trampled the typewriter. This is why we can't have nice things. ", "The loneliness she could no longer bear. She was so alone without friend or someone to call her own that she chose to end her existence. Perhaps things would better in her next life, she thought. Straightening her spine, she left her small bedroom she shared with no one and seating herself in front of the typewriter she'd purchased at a rummage sale but never used, Alexandria prepared to write a farewell letter to those who probably wouldn't care.\nAs she thought over what to say, a new idea occurred to her so instead of composing a saddened tale of her life, Alexandria wrote a description of her dream man. Tall, gorgeous, she went into great detail of her mythical mate never realizing as she typed a transparent figure was slowly solidifying the longer she wrote. \n\"His name would be Alessandro,\" she wrote because she'd always admired the name.\nPeering over her shoulder, Alessandro murmured, \"A very apt description, my lady.\"" ]	4
	[WP] Some people claim to have invented flying cars, or cold fusion, or engines that run on water and others believe them. You've just made something more absurd... but it actually works!	[ "Principal Stevens leaned in to get a better look. \"Alex, if you want a project that's going to be competitive, you're going to need to be serious. The Science Fair is not a place for... this.\"\n\nI objected: \"But it works!\"\n\nStevens looked at the two other judges, \"I'll be at the next project whenever you're done here.\"\n\nI turned to face the judges, \"Would you like for me to explain how it works?\"\n\n\"Um. Sure.\"\n\n\"Okay! Okay. So, thank you for coming. My name is Alex. I am in Ms. William's science class. This is my Fart-Happiness Generator.\"\n\n\"I see,\" the first judge looked away, while the other scribbled something down.\n\n\"Here's how it works,\" and I held up the prototype, \"You fart in this end. Then you put your face into this end right here. When this light turns green, you take a real big deep breath.\"\n\n\"I see,\" the first judge repeated. The second judge's eyes were dulled over.\n\nI waited for any follow-up questions. When none came: \"Would you like to try it?\"\n\nThe first judge looked startled, \"Would I like to break wind into that funnel?\"\n\n\"Yeah! Or, I could fart -- I mean, break wind -- into it for you!\"\n\nShe began to blush, \"I don't think that will be necessary. Thank you for your time, and good luck in Ms. Williams' class.\" \n\nThey began to walk away, so I raised my voice, \"It works! These chemicals change the methane from your poots into L-DOPA. Then it synthesizes that into Dopamine once it hits your blood system through inhaling it! It's easy!\"\n\nBut they were gone. This should have easily won the Science Fair. How could I have screwed this up? Before I got upset, I pressed my butt against the machine and gave it a little fart." ]	1
	[WP] We discover an isolated group of "homo-primus" beings who turn out to be the apex species having awesome physical and mental ability but are not technically advanced. They adapt to human culture but are acutely aware of their place. 20 years have passed since the discovery.	[ "\"So, my family is going to be a host for a Primus student next semester.\"\n\nCharlie choked on his soda, \"Primus?\"\n\nI shrugged, \"Yeah. He'll be starting the fall.\"\n\n\"He's not going to be staying with us in here, will he?\" He motioned to the cramped dorm room.\n\n\"First off, he's actually a she. And second, no. She'll be staying with mom and dad a few minutes off campus.\"\n\nHe snorted, \"Wow. I didn't realize it had come to this already.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Don't act like you don't understand,\" he locked eyes with me, \"You know that this isn't right.\"\n\n\"Isn't right?\" After the words left my mouth, I realized something I never noticed about Charlie. He was a supremacist.\n\n\"We don't have fucking dogs in college, do we?\" He stood up and started pacing.\n\n\"Wow. Don't you think that's an awful comparison?\"\n\n\"How? How is it an awful comparison? They're another species. They aren't like us. They are sub-human, with an emphasis on the sub.\"\n\n\"Dude, what are you talking about? Primus folks are like, smarter than us.\"\n\n\"Yeah. So are dolphins. But you don't see them sitting in COMP 101.\"\n\nI grew quiet. \"I guess I didn't know you felt this way.\"\n\n\"You're right. That was a little harsh,\" he paused, \"I guess I just see it like this. We should be looking out for our own. We're humans!\" He patted his chest. \"We invented the airplane. We invented the car. We invented computers and the internet. We've traveled to the moon! We didn't do that by holding hands.\"\n\n\"...\"\n\n\"I love you man, but I think your family is making a huge mistake with this. For every Primus that is enrolled in our university, that's one less seat for one of us.\"\n\nI didn't say anything.\n\n\"How would you feel? You worked your ass off in school, and then some 7-foot, pale, jungle savage took your seat. Not because they deserved it, but because we felt bad for them?\"\n\n\"You know what, man. I don't think we should talk about this any more.\"\n\nHe muttered under his breath, \"Yeah, that's what I thought.\"\n\nI looked up. \"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"Nothing man. Don't worry about it.\" \n\n\"No. If you want to say something, you can say it to my face.\"\n\nHe finally lashed out, \"This is just how it always is with you apologist-types. When someone brings up a rational conversation, a logical argument, you either go silent or you change the subject.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Is the pen truly mightier than the sword? A writer and her samurai husband go on a quest to settle the debate once and for all.	[ "A student came to a wise man, and of him he asked, “My teacher, I am told that words hold greater power than any sword. Is this so?”\n\nThe teacher nodded, before proceeding to take a piece of card and a brush. With it, he wrote a single word. “There is a story of a samurai and his betrothed. The samurai took great pleasure in showing how those they passed in the streets deferred to his status, eagerly brandishing his sword to get his way.\n\n“His betrothed, however, had a great passion for the poets of years gone by, and found the display of force to be brutish and unwarranted. So, she challenged him to three feats. He would use his sword and she would use a word.\n\n“Eagerly he agreed. Then, she set the first feat: to part a child and her toy. The samurai looked uncomfortable, and once a child was found, he could not bring himself to approach the child with such malice. The betrothed, retrieving a piece of paper, wrote a single word down and showed it to the child with a smile. Although reluctant, the child let her take the toy for a moment, before she returned it.\n\n“The samurai pressed for another feat, a more fair one this time. She thought for a moment, and then proposed that they must enter the nearby shrine. And, once more, the samurai found himself unable to approach with malice, merely watching as she entered the shrine after showing her paper.\n\n“Upset with how things went, the samurai asked if he could choose the last feat. She let him, and he chose to cut down a fruit from a tree. His blade easily sliced through, and the fruit dropped to the ground. Turning to her, he asked if she intended to compete Smiling, she approached one of the young men walking down the road and gestured to the fruit while showing her paper, and he reached up to pluck the fruit for her.”\n\nThe student bowed his head in thought, and the teacher handed over the piece of card he had prepared.\n\n“The samurai demanded to know what she had written. And so, she showed him and it simply read: please.\n\n“Humbled, he asked her if he should forego his sword, but she would hear none of it. Instead, she insisted he must keep it as a reminder of when it had its use and in case it has its use again. Words, she said, had their place in a peaceful society and swords in a turbulent one.”\n\n“And what say you, my teacher?”\n\nThe teacher smiled. “That, I am afraid, is a lesson for another day.”", "\"It's been 12 months to the day. Are you as ready as I to decide this once and for all?\" \n\nSatoshi Katagiri looked at his wife for the first time in a year since they split to find an answer to the endless question. The pen and the sword were mortal enemies, demanding a side be chosen with no safe space in the middle. His quest had been to prove the sword was mightier, taking months to find the strongest master, and the remainder of the time training tirelessly.\n\nTwelve months of focus, of dedication, of eating and breathing the art of the samurai. This had been his purpose, his passion for a year. \n\nMiyuki stared back, matching the resolve and confidence in her answer.\n\n\"I am ready.\"\n\nShe stood only feet from him in the open valley, her ceremonial kimono waving gently in the pleasant breeze. The pen in her hand was the only thing to contrast the beautiful sword in Satoshi's. Her year of dedication to the answer in favor of the pen was focused on building an audience; of proving the pen's power through it's ability to inspire the masses. \n\nThe amount of work that had gone into the quest was incredible. It was a sacrifice to find the truth. The truth she knew to be true. \n\n\"On behalf of the great samurai's of our time, and of our ancestors, and of their ancestors, I shall begin.\" Satoshi recited, as he had practiced countless times. \n\nStepping over to the dummies dressed in armor silently awaiting their fate to prove his truth, Satoshi bowed a deep, thoughtful bow. The first bore leather armor, and silently slipped in half as Satoshi's sword melted through.\n\n\n\nThe second with steel armor took several strong swings, but inevitably suffered the same fate.\n\n\n\nFinally, he walked over to the last item he had brought: a small rock on which sat a single pen.\n\n\n\nThe pen offered little resistance as the sword symbolically sliced it in half. He finished with his ceremonial exposition: A whirling display of steel so fast, it looked like a solid plate of light spinning in the sun.\n\n\"Be careful Satoshi!\" Miyuki broke the silence. \"You could hurt yourself.\"\n\n\n\n\"A sword is mighty, particularly because it is so dangerous. On it's own, the sword is a pretty souvenir. Only when it is placed in the hands of a trained samurai is it truly mighty. An extension of the might, one cannot come without the other. Therefore, dear wife, in order for the sword to be mighty, it must also be dangerous to it's bearer.\"\n\n\"This is precisely where the pen fails,\" Satoshi continued. \"It is not mighty in it's own right, only able to call on the might of the others. There is no danger in the pen. This, together with my demonstration, is why the sword is mightier than the pen.\"\n\n\n\n\"Very true, husband, but why do danger and might have to coexist? The pen is mightier because of the raw power it controls, without the danger. I can swing a pen miles away, and achieve great things without being in danger.\"\n\nWith that, she put her hands to her mouth and let out a loud \"Hooya!\". On cue, exactly as she had written to the nearby villages, over two hundred warriors lined the ridge over looking the valley. They chanted angrily, and eagerly, anticipating the confrontation and bloodshed she had promised.\n\n\"So you see, Satoshi-san, the pen has proven even mightier than your sword,\" she said triumphantly.\n\n\"Miyuki, what did you promise these men?\" Satoshi asked, not taking his eyes off the ridge. \n\nThe answer came not from his wife, but one of the men on the ridge, \"There they are! My glory awaits! I will be the first to slay them!\"\n\nMiyuki's confident smile slowly shifted to a confused pucker as she considered what the warrior had just said. \"Them? No, we're not slaying anybody. You are defending the glory of the pen, of literature, of writing! What are you doing? Stop!\"\n\nBut, of course it was too late. The first man started the tidal wave of steel toward Satoshi and his wife. The mob had been promised glory, and they would have it. If there was one idea on which the couple agreed, it was that glory can be manufactured after the fact, truth cannot. \n\n\"I think we should go now,\" said Satoshi in a needlessly quiet voice. The mob approached, some rolling down the hill, their anticipation too much for their feet.\n\n\"Only once you admit the pen is mightier.\" Miyuki had to speak louder over the rising noise.\n\n\"My dear wife, you have called an entire army with your pen. An army which is about to destroy us both, due to the very pen you claim to not have any danger. An impressive display of might to be sure, only you have overlooked one undeniable and devastating truth. They all have swords!\"\n\nThe realization slammed into her. A sword without a pen is a mistake in perspective, to be sure. There is always something stronger than a single sword. Yet, in the same light, a pen without a sword is a dream, a rant; little more than a noise. The sword enforces the pen. Enables it. The pen can create an angry mob, but it cannot control it.\n\nThe roar of angry men grew to a thunder. \n\n\"Call it a tie?\" the wife asked.\n\n\"A tie,\" responded the husband, taking her hand.\n\nAnd they ran.\n\n\n", "Their journey had been arduous. For months they had followed the coast as an unlikely team. With his blade, shield and strength he had put right many wrongs along the way. With her quill, ink and wits she wove a narrative of the land and time they experienced together. \n\nThey were an unlikely pairing, dissimilar in almost every regard. But love drew them inexplicably together and propelled them forward as it always had. Ever since they first met. Ever since he had abandoned his servitude to his wealthy masters. Ever since she had abandoned her life of keeping books and records for her father's estates.\n\nThey were their own masters now, and they made every use of that freedom, never staying in one place for long. Their quest was fueled by their differences as much as anything, for they were in equal parts rivals and lovers.\n\nFor him it was action and the body that was paramount in life and he lived by the sword as few ever did. For her it was thought and the mind that was of greatest import, and she would always be a scholar at heart. There were countless nights spent in furious debate (broken only by passionate bouts of love) over this dichotomy of worldviews. Was the pen mightier than the sword, or the other way round? They vowed in the end to put it to the test.\n\nAnd so they had set out to live and learn and love. But not all journies end happily. They had come across a distraught fisherman in a tiny village. He begged help of the pair as his daughter had been taken by three wicked men and he could not pay for her safe return. As he had done before, the Samurai used his skills and his blade, and was able to rescue the poor girl. But this adventure did not end with tears of joy and a shared meal and a long night of commiting deeds to paper.\n\nThree bandits were dispatched by the Samurai, but an unknown fourth made his presence known. A blade from the shadows found the Scholar. Even as the final bandit was struck down, the lovers knew their time together was coming to an end.\n\nEven with the help of a town healer, her breath grew shallow and the light in her eyes burned low. They kissed and remembered and argued as they always had but only because they could not bring themselves to say goodbye. By the time the sun began to rise, she was gone.\n\nIn his grief he held her close, and his hand fell on her writing pouch. He pulled out the tales she had written of their journies, perhaps desperate to recall those happier times. Page after page that slipped through his fingers was blank, save one. The first and only page she had not destroyed, written on the first day they had ran off together. \n\nHe clutched it to his chest as he slowly marched out into the sea. And the Samurai knew she was right. She had always been right. \n\nActions that are forgotten are without meaning: it is our memories that define us." ]	3
	[WP] God has invited you to the Virgo Supercluster Inter-Universal Science Fair. He wants to demonstrate his "prototype weapon", the human, which has survived thousands of years of tests.	[ "\"Sure.\" I muttered.\nWhat else would I say to god.\n\nThe way there was cool, it was like being dragged by my wrist through a drainage pipe filled with glowstick liquid. I was choking the entire time. I think I remember craving a cigarette.\n\nGod looked like god. That's what I tell myself at least. He told me that he appears the way I want him to appear, but every time I try to make him look like a ferret with goggles on it doesn't work, I think God lied to me. He had long white hair, a beard, braided neatly at the chin, and his skin was bronze as though he spent alot of time landscaping in the nude, I swear there wasn't a tan line in sight. I remember feeling mildly jealous.\n\nI did end up asking him how he spent his spare time, and he replied by telling me that time is a human construct, but I don't know what that means. I remember feeling humbled.\n\nOnce we arrived at the show he handed me off to pair of hands that floated, they wore rings on every finger, even the thumbs. I tried to tell him that thumb rings are tacky, he didn't react. I was carried quite gently into a pit where I met the most hilarious being, I mean I might make a cartoon about this guy, and I can't even draw.\n\nAlright, imagine a donkey... no...\n\nParts of his body were indescribable. \n\nHe had a skirt on both of his torsos, each covering what appeared to be a sad droopy ear with some screeching things living in the crevices. His skin was transparent but a pink liquid flowed through him and he looked like a melted beaker filled with peptobismol. \n\nI only shared one word with him.\n\n\"Dude...\" I could barely contain my laughter from spurting akwardly from between my lips. \n\nThat's all I got to say to peptobismol man before a large vat of water was dumped onto him from the great black abyss that was located above us. He melted and died.\n\nI figured I was about to start showing off my skills as a human soon, so I got naked. God should've picked someone who hit the gym for more than... well more than that time I went with my fat friend to help him get motivated. My body could be described as soft.\n\nI awaited my turn, some other indescribable creatures had water dumped on them and a good amount of them died in pain, It was half depressing half hilarious, maybe that's one of my skills as a human, lack of empathy.\n\nWhen the water hit me I wanted to show off a little, so as soon as it fell I looked up and opened my mouth, I was a little thirsty anyways.\n\nThen I tasted it, it brought me back to my highschool ski trip, me and some friends met a guy names Scooge on the slopes who invited us to his cabin for some beers, but he didn't have beer. The taste in my mouth was ethanol.\n\n\"Finally\" I thought. \"100 proof.\"\n\nWhen I had finished blowing the ethanol out of my nose, I began to wipe my eyes with my nearby clothes, but Peptobismol man had got some of his pepto juice on my boxers, it smelled like someone exhaling into my face while eating cheese. The smell mixed with the horrible pain in my eyes and I threw up on my jeans. \n\nThe crowd was in an uproar.\n\nI didn't feel like I'd passed, until I saw god himself smile at me.\n\n\"My son, shall we move to the next room?\" God's voice was loud and cliché. \n\n\"Sure.\" I said.\nWhat else do you say to god?\n", "Overheard at an intergalactic conference in the Virgo Supercluster:\n\n\"Oh dear. Biological weapons, Yahweh? I don't know, that's so... last millennium.\"\n\n\"No, no. These are completely different. Not at all like the thermophilic stone dissolving bacterium that could disintegrate planetary structures all the way down to their core. These little fellas leave the basic structure of the planet intact while extinguishing just the existing life matrix, but readying it to be re-impregnated with whole new life forms of your choosing at a future date.\"\n\n\"How did you manage to limit the destruction so precisely?\"\n\n\"By giving them complex brains with limited insight and a powerful sense of self-interest.\"\n\n\"That seems counter intuitive. If they're so self-interested, why don't they just stop destroying the environment before it gets out of hand?\"\n\n\"You're forgetting the limited insight thing. I've sublimated the wisdom, by excessive social stimulus coupled with short attention spans. Next thing you know: BAM! The brain overloads, starts taking mental shortcuts, offloads all the routine tasks into the faster but less communicative visual hemisphere.\"\n\n\"Which does… what again?\"\n\n\"Creates an abnormally large dependence on the subconscious. Then you just introduce a culture of mysticism which propagandizes the little guys into thinking their intuition is some kind of infallible guide, and PRESTO! You've got a species that always thinks its acting in its own self interest even while it's destroying its own environment and running the economic substructure into the ground.\"\n\n\"Do you ever find them dying off prematurely?\"\n\n\"Not so far, no. And I've been tweaking this configuration for thousands of years now. And anyway, you want them to self-terminate at the end of the process, otherwise they'll still be around when you're ready to re-seed.\"\n\n\"I still don't understand why I've never heard of this. Have your findings been published and peer reviewed?\"\n\nYahweh sighed mightily. \"I told you. I don't have any peers.\"\n\n\"Of… course you don't.\"\n\n\"And why is it no one in the intergalactic community ever takes you seriously unless you're published, but no one will publish you unless someone takes you seriously?\"\n\n\"Oh do tell! This system is rigged. I sympathize completely.\"\n\n", "After judging most of the booths for this eternity’s Inter-Universal Science Fair, Kalfar was quite pleased with the results. Possibilities always abounded at these competitions, and the being was positive that at least a few could become law in their realities, given some further refinement. Relativistic implementation, biological curiosities, thermodynamic impossibilities: it was stunning how well the competitors did with such a broad topic as “Applied Entropy”.\n\nKalfar had initially been worried by the number of applicants, though the head of Universe Phi-F79-C42 kindly offered its ‘Virgo’ Supercluster for the event, with the only stipulation that its entry be submitted last. While its dimensional level prevented some of the more complex entries from existing within its Universe, the odd quirks of its level ensured that the science fair would not interfere with any existing stellar ecosystems; the Universe head had even been generous enough to bend reality to permit the higher-level heads to remain in their usual forms while at the fair. As Kalfar rounded towards the final booth, it only wished that this Universe head weren’t so... odd.\n\nIt found the Universe Phi-F79-C42 head napping at its booth, along with a standard Viewport & Datapad setup. I’m surprised it didn’t choose something more flashy, Kalfar thought. It’s known for its dramatic flair.\n\n“A-hem!” Kalfar took some satisfaction at the waken host falling from its chair. “What have you got for Us, Yahweh?”\n\n“You know I prefer God, Kalfar,” the host grumbled.\n\nKalfar rolled its metaphorical eyes, “My apologies. What is your entry, God?”\n\nGod smiled. “It’s something truly unique, though I believe your checklist would categorize them as a weapon.”\n\n“Did you say them?”\n\n“I did,” God’s smile widened. “I call them: humans.” With a flourish, God switched on the Viewport.\n\nImages flashed by as rapidly as this reality would allow, but Kalfar got the gist from the slow presentation. This can’t be right, thought the judge, there’s no way something so simple could be capable of all this! Information continued to stream across the Viewport as Kalfar’s fascination bled into horror. Are they, self-aware? At that level? But they’ve not risen past their biological basepoint; are they tethered to it? Who would be so reckless as to create this?! Kalfar became aware of God’s increasing enthusiasm. “Great, aren’t they?”\n\n“What... What have you done?”\n\n“Well, I got bored with my ‘Apex Predator’ idea early on, so I scrapped it. But those little guys managed to survive the wipe somehow, so I decided to see what they could take.” The other fair participants were gathering now, wondering why Kalfar was spending so much time at God’s booth. “You would not believe what I threw at them: rapid environmental shifts, decreased food supply, planetary disasters. You name it, I tried it! Just when I thought they couldn’t surprise me anymore, the bastards started creating!”\n\nThe supercluster was silent, save for God’s voice. “I couldn’t believe it! Rudimentary language, art, science: all from creatures so low on the scale you’d claim that sentience an impossibility. So I left them alone for a bit, checking in only when something particularly interesting was happening.”\n\n“Checked in?”\n\n“Yeah, I’d create an avatar to visit them as. To get a feel for how things were progressing at their level. Funniest thing: they kept records of every different encounter, and they fight over them like only one avatar actually showed up!” God chuckled, glancing back to the Viewport. “I thought I had somehow made the start for another Being, though at that the human level there’s not enough requisite energy to move much further. They must know it too, since they get so agitated any time I stayed down there for too long.”\n\n“So You thought it was a good idea to make humans, possibly the first sentient planet-level species anyone’s ever seen, into a weapon?!”\n\nGod shrugged, “Well, they’re not much good to us as anything else.”\n\n“Explain,” Kalfar fumed.\n\n“They shape their environment to fit their needs, which is great if You can figure out how to direct them properly. By the way, them ordering materials like that is why I even bothered entering them in the fair this time around. It takes some motivation to get them going, but once you do, there’s no off switch short of wiping them all out.” God scratched his head, “I haven’t been able to figure out how to get them to build what I want yet, just destroy. I’m sure I’ll figure it out by the next iteration. I can’t wait fo-”\n\n“No.” Kalfar interrupted. “Yahweh, you’re stopping now. I can’t believe you’d be so irresponsible as letting this go on as long as you have. At least tell me you’ve disposed of them now that this experiment is over.”\n\n“Well...”\n\n“Well. What.”\n\n“The Viewport’s been receiving the information in real-time. That’s why I needed to go last, so that the Viewport would be able to catch up to the events happening on Earth, er, the planet I was keeping them on. Distances and time still kind of wonky here. They’re in a galaxy called the Milky-”\n\n“Destroy it now.”\n\nGod sighed, “Fine...” It snapped its fingers. “Done. I’m going to miss those guys.”\n\nOn the Viewport, Kalfar watched as a small water-covered planet was demolished by another planet of roughly the same size. Kalfar was satisfied, until it noticed discrepancies in the spreading debris cloud.\n\n“Yahweh, what was-”\n\nReality tore nearby, warping the supercluster. Contestants screamed as space folded on itself, obliterating half of the fair. Where the booths had existed now rested what Kalfar could only describe as a ship, though as unrefined as one could make. More screams rose up as something began to sweep through the crowd. Next to it, Kalfar heard God blubber incoherently.\n\n“What is that, Yahweh?!?”\n\nGod stammered, “That would be the humans.”", "\"What... is it?\"\n\n\"It's a Human!\" was fired back with excited glee.\n\nIt's been general practice to grant the Genetic Organics Designers a wide birth to follow their own projects, but out of all the bizarre results shown over the millennia this was one of the strangest.\n\n\"How can this thing be so exciting to you? It's so tiny.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, I limited the sample set to a planet; one of the rock bodies around a gravity well. That imposed all kinds of limitations.\"\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\n\"Oh, all sorts of stuff. Their bodies are permeable and they can't naturally sustain themselves in normal space. They die without access to steady resources. Their bodies are inefficient and produce a lot of waste, and they die if over-exposed their waste too. They break down after a century. They're limited to three dimensional space. They can't travel...\"\n\n\"What!? They're 3D only?\"\n\"Yep, that's actually one of their...\"\n\"That's limited to, what, 15% of total mass!?\n\"If you count energy it's less than 5% actually, they can't travel even close to the speed of light, and naturally can't move faster than sound...\"\n\"Sound?\" \n\"Sound. That one is a little... complicated to explain. Please quit interrupting and I'll bring it back around to make sense, I promise.\"\n\nThis was getting stranger by the minute. The G.O.D. quickly rattled off a few thousand more limitations these creatures had, as well as a groundwork of their bizarre forms and physics. Many of their flaws were clearly controls set in place to prevent escape or contamination, but most didn't seem to make sense.\n\n\"Well, why did you make them so... weak?\"\n\n\"That's just it, I didn't!\" The glee was back.\n\"I set the planet with some basic controls and then just... let the thing run rampant, with only a few tweaks here and there. There are actually quite a few Earth life variations that grew alongside humans in intelligence but the humans have halted all progress but their own.\" \n\n\"How? Why?\"\n\n\"Because the humans consumed them!\" This caused some surprise among the crowd that was forming, drawn to the enthusiasm.\n\"They don't absorb energy, I mean some simple Earth organisms absorb limited energy from their sun or their planet tectonics, but all the more advanced ones consume each other.\" A few of the listening bodies winced at the concept.\n\n\"See this slit here, inside this are exposed bone and muscle called 'teeth' and 'tongue'. This is the first part of a 'digestive tract' that they use to tear down other earthlings to sustain themselves. They're brutal, and that's not the worst of it! They've achieved shared compounding intelligence, but no Earth beings can share wisdom across successive generations.\"\n\n\"Could you extrapolate on that a bit? What do you mean exactly?\"\n\n\"Ok, so humans have built all kinds of things out of their planet, they can compound collected information and construction methods among each other and through time, but they can't express more nuanced cause-and-effect across successive generations or even across distance. Their means of communication doesn't convey empathy properly. Most humans seem to care for others they have the most direct interaction with, and express disgust toward directly observed anguish, but they can't convey their feelings to others easily. The further from their own experience the less humans value other human life, and that's just their own species! They've made drastic changes to their planet and even heavily modified a select few subspecies to serve better as food or companion creatures.\"\n\n\"They sound disgusting and primal.\" The Designer was observably hurt by the comment.\n\n\"True, they have their myriad flaws, brutality chief among them. I actually tried toning them down at times. In one instance they slaughtered my messenger, they still took the core message to heart but then paradoxically used the philosophy of peace and acceptance to perform all kinds of atrocities. They aren't very bright, but somehow they're still very innovative. In just the last century they've begun exploring their neighboring astral bodies.\"\n\n\"I thought you said they were contained, and couldn't exist in normal space.\"\n\n\"Oh they are! And they can't! Normally, anyway. They've figured out how to shape tiny fractions of their planet into enclosed environments and jettison them out of their gravity well through chemical energy. They don't even have to be inside them, they can relay with their creations remotely. They've taken various points along the spectrum of electromagnetic energy as different kinds of information conveyance. Weird, right? They've even built rudimentary logic systems out of it, although still heavily flawed. They even have vague theories about us! They call it 'Dark Matter', and thankfully have no means of interacting, yet.\"\n\n\"Could they pose a threat to us if they could interact?\"\n\n\"Absolutely! They're both self-obsessed and paranoid. They collectively fantasize about encountering outside beings and always ascribe their own traits to them, they often predict their own downfall to aggressive aliens. Even in fantasies where individual humans establish peaceful contact they still, even under ideal conditions, predict that their own collective would attempt to attack or dominate outsiders. Even their few peaceful predictions are riddled with hardship and miscommunication. They even worry about their own logic systems suddenly becoming aggressive and exterminating them. They're sort of crazy.\"\n\n\"What are the projected ending conditions to your experiment?\"\n\n\"Well I don't know! Humans have developed largely independently. In the last few centuries their collective knowledge has grown exponentially. They've nearly destroyed their environment a few times. They use much of their creations to slaughter each other, and waste a large deal of resources if fear of attack. Due to their short lives many individuals push the bounds of human discovery to ascribe accomplishment to themselves, as though that has some meaning after they expire. They cooperate to outpace each other, and this somehow improves their rate of inventiveness. 'Cooperative competition', can you imagine?\nRight now they're at a crossroads. They're reaching a point where a select few could easily control a majority and I'm not sure they'll realize how self-destructive that would be. They may soon begin re-engineering themselves which could possibly allow for collective empathy and shared wisdom. Alternatively they could just use augmentations to further control each other, or outright destroy themselves. It's tough to say.\"\n\n\"I don't think you realize the ramifications of this. You've created a species that is simple, for now, but one nearly devoid of mercy and empathy; this has the potential to impact our very way of life. You've created a living weapon.\"\n\nThe shared disappointment was becoming palpable. \n\n\"You want me to shut down the experiment then, don't you?\"\n\n\"Absolutely not! You've created beings which are unique to the universe, and even though they are so... bizarre, they are clearly thinking, feeling beings. To wipe them out simply because we cannot understand fully how they think and feel would be barbarous. They are members of the universe, and it is now our responsibility to make sure they don't destroy themselves until they grow into their wisdom. You should realize that once they develop empathy they will share a collective anguish for the actions of their ancestors, and should they come to empathize with us we can only add to them our own guilt at allowing such a horrid existence to have formed at all. Even in peace they will suffer.\"\n\n\"I... oh no...\" As the Designer came to the realization, so too came the feeling of horror, a feeling of course felt by all. \"I'm so sorry. I couldn't feel their pain, I never realized...\"\n\n\"The line between simple thought and sapience is blurred. Your, surprise, for us was an ingenious attempt, although a bit overzealous. Add your findings to our collective understanding and we'll move forward together. It's alright, you aren't infallible after all...\"", "\"Guys, guys, trust me. They seem harmless, but you're going to love them.\"\n\nThe assembled deities looked at God guardedly. They had always considered him a bit of a weirdo.\n\nBut then the banging on the large glass tube caught their attention, and they inspected the two humans once again.\n\n\"Bipedal, mammalian, above-average intelligence... so what?\" One said, gesturing towards his own science project, \"Mine can destroy a planet in minutes.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" God said, getting impatient, \"they're not just intelligent, they're self-aware. And the shit it does to them! I don't even run tests on them anymore.\"\n\n\"So what, though? We're self-aware, and metaphysical angst is not a daily feature on my schedule.\"\n\n\"But we're Gods, man! Ok, maybe this would be easier, just look through here, ok? It's a kind of, I don't know, space telescope. It's a science fair, after all. Just look at Earth. It's where I put them.\"\n\nThey all peered through the telescope, the dim thudding of the humans on the glass tube all but forgotten.\n\n\"Nice place, pretty high levels of pollution though. Not sure what all the fuss is about.\"\n\n\"No, look closer.\"\n\nThere was a slight scuffle as all the deities tried to peer through the telescope at once. \n\nThen, there was silence. One deity immediately disappeared, and others wordlessly followed thereafter.\n\nAll but one remained.\n\n\"You're... you're fucking sick, God. You are fucking sick.\"\n\nHe disappeared, only to reappear shortly afterwards. \n\n\"Seriously, fuck you, fuck this universe, fuck it, we're out.\"\n\nGod sat alone, in quiet contemplation. The humans were on the floor of the glass tube, not breathing, their faces blue. He flicked the tube a few times. \n\n\"Yea... maybe telling them about me wasn't the best idea. The humans, I mean.\"\n\nHe frowned.\n\n\"Is it ISIS or ISIL, by the way? I can never remember.\"", "I woke up in a kind of glass tube, looking out at a bunch of men and women dressed in togas. The first thing I did was press my hands against the glass. It was definitely quite solid. The toga people looked at me with interest.\n\n\"What the fuck? Where am I? Who the hell are you? Get me out of here!\" I shouted. They didn't respond. I pounded my fists on the glass. \"Get me OUT!\"\n\nVery interesting, one of the women said. Or rather, she didn't speak, but I understood that she had communicated something.\n\nI thought you would appreciate it, an older male replied. Would you like to see it in action?\n\nVery much so.\n\nThe next thing I knew, I was no longer in the tube, but in some kind of jungle. I'm no botanist -- hell, I'm a middle manager at a social media company -- but the plants didn't look familiar. They were reddish-purple, with thorns and wiry, twisted trunks. An alien world? Christ. Jesus Christ, I thought. It's a test. I have to survive. Maybe the fate of the whole Earth is at stake. Jesus.\n\nI found a length of wood that would serve as a club. It seemed solid enough, and it felt good being armed. I cautiously picked my way through the undergrowth. I need to look for water first, right? Okay, water.\n\nThat was when I saw it. An alien spider-thing, that looked like Cthulhu and one of Ridley Scott's xenomorphs got busy and had a baby. It was only four or five feet tall, though, and maybe seven across. It could have been worse.\n\nIt turned toward me and hissed, raising its forelegs. \"I'm not going down that easy!\" I yelled at it. \"Die motherfucker!\" With that, I charged, club held high.\n\nAnd for thirty glorious seconds I was a warrior of legend. I whirled, dodged, parried. I struck at its joints and what I'm pretty sure were its eyes. It squealed in rage an pain, stunned by my onsalught, and tried to skitter away, but I wouldn't let it. Soon enough, its carapace buckled and cracked under my adrenalin-fueled blows, the beast fell lifeless, and I stood victorious over a corpse that oozed yellow-purple ichor.\n\nAnd then I was back in the tube, just like that. The onlookers seemed impressed. I must say that is truly exceptional work, the woman said, peering closer at me through the glass. She looked back at the older gentleman. I say, can it perceive us? It seems to be looking at me.\n\nOnly in the most rudimentary way, he assured her. I installed a filter that transforms overwhelming sensory data into a form it can accept and understand. Occasionally there are glitches -- schizophrenia, usually -- but on the whole, I've found it to be a very useful function. I think it's probably perceiving us as some sort of ancient gods, and that it itself is in an apparatus similar to various myths of alien technology that it's familiar with.\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" I asked.\n\nOh, I see. It heard you, just then, she said.\n\nA portly gentleman squinted at me. How the deuce did you make it work, though? It's not strong. It's not perceptive. It's not intelligent. Physically, it's hardly an impressive specimen. Mentally, even less so.\n\nThe older man smirked. Honestly, I didn't bother with any of that. And frankly, too much intelligence turned out to be counterproductive. They have enough brains to make tools and weapons, but not enough to really consider consequences. Then I gave them opposable thumbs and an overactive endocrine system. After that, I simply rely on emergent behavior to take care of the rest.\n\nYou mean they live in a permanent state of aggression? I was wondering why it immediately found a weapon. And no wonder it killed that spidermorph when the poor beast was only trying to talk, the woman said. You're quite the craftsman, my friend. I could definitely use a few of these 'humans.'\n\nI'm rather impressed as well, old chap, the portly man added. It's genius, pure and simple. And there's quite a market for them, I daresay. Why, I myself have let a few of my planets get rather out of hand and need to do a bit of ethnic cleansing, shall we say.\n\nWell, the old man said, smiling, They're still in beta at the moment, but I am taking pre-orders.\n\nI'll take two hundred million, the woman said.\n\nThe portly man nodded. And put me down for a half billion, would you, Jehovah?\n\nCertainly, the old man said.", "The invite itself was humble in it's own way. A simple veneer card, addressed to me (Sir Tony Hughes, as if I was some knight or lived in England or something). Inside the card was a quick greeting, a time and date, and on the bottom,\n\n\"Your Attendance is Mandatory. - God.\" \n\nWhoever was the joker had a lame sense of humor. The date was a week from the day I received the invite, and fell upon the time on which I planned to leave the house to go camping up at the lake. The car was packed, all my gear prepped and ready. I had picked up a new tent for this trip, too. It had a built in repellent to keep bugs away from the tent area. A simple weekend getaway, away from the hustle and bustle of the city life and work.\n\nI had just slipped behind the wheel and turned the engine over when my smartwatch began to beep. I thought nothing of it, because as such I was leaving any area with cell service and it wouldn't matter until Monday, at least. Likely the office trying to get my final approval on a project. \n\nThe watch beeped once more. And I fell asleep. \n\nHave you ever fallen asleep really fast, like after a long day hiking and your body is just completely wiped? And you lay down and you're kind of sore but also feeling really content? And you just zone out and fall asleep? It was like that. Except, when I woke up I wasn't behind the wheel of my Jeep. I was in an office. I was still wearing my green t-shirt. My khakis. I looked down and was slightly embarrassed to see I was wearing my flip flops. You never want to be unprepared and not wearing proper shoes. Around me, the office was fairly bland. A large oak desk in front of me. An impressively ancient computer sat atop, a mechanical keyboard being typed on by an even more impressively old man. The audible clackclackclack of the keyboard raised me from my twilight zone-esque stupor. \n\n\"Uh. Hi. Where am I.\" \n\nThe old man stopped typing and glanced over. \"Hello, Tony. You are in the administration wing. Before you ask, yes, you are not on Earth anymore and no, you will not be going camping this weekend. You are helping me with my project.\" \n\n\"Project.\" Okay, what the fuck was going on. The old man seemed harmless enough, but I was in flip flops. You don't take chances in flip flops. I remained seated as I demanded an explanation. \n\n\"It's the annual Virgo Supercluster Inter-Universal Science Fair. All the dimensions are here this year, and it's C-137's time to shine. I created Earth eons ago and it's fruit has come to bare! The fruit is you, by the way.\" \n\nMy head felt like it was about to explode. Dimensions. Virgo Superclusters. SCIENCE FAIRS. The old man was back to clacking away as he began to explain, as if he was reading my mind. \n\n\"You see, once five millennia, the Academy of Sciences hosts a science fair. Deities from all over every universe submits different projects - whether they are a new galaxy cluster, or a sweet moon, a crazy gas planet with massive ring shapes. I've been biding my time with my project, humans.\"\n\nThe clacking stopped and the old man stood up. I began to realize that this wasn't a man. As he spoke, a feeling of peace and reassurance came over me. I inherently trusted this man. I believed him. In fact, I had known him all my life. He was always there, picking me up as a child when I fell. Guiding me through adolescence. Getting me through college. He had always been there. \n\nGod motioned for me to stand and follow him, and I did so. We walked into the hallway, which was also mostly bare, with a tile floor and white walls. It reminded me a bit of an old hospital, except without the smell. We walked side by side, and he explained to me the genetic variables that he had introduced billions of years ago, how at the beginning of his experiments he submitted his thesis to the Science Academy and they merely laughed at him, how he was determined to prove them wrong. I briefly recalled the time I submitted my idea to climb Mt. Hood to my parents and they laughed at me. Granted, I was only seven years old. But I had proved them wrong and became the youngest solo climber to summit Mt. Hood. I could see God smiling at my memory. He continued to explain how the billions of years of evolution had taken off and gone so much better than he had hoped. That human DNA was resilient, our biology so unique, our reproduction so simple, our resistance so powerful, how unpredictable we were. We reached the end of the hallway, a set of double doors with exit bars on them. He stopped me, and laid a hand of my shoulder. \"Anthony. It is time you understand. All of human history has led to this moment. Are you ready?\" \n\nI thought of the time Gillian came home with me, and my parents were asleep. We were in my basement when I leaned over and kissed her. She kissed me back. I remembered how nervous we both were, and thinking to myself Please God let this happen. She asked, her quiet voice shaking, if I had a condom. God didn't let me down. How could I let him down? \n\n\"I'm ready.\" I said. With that, the double doors pushed open, and we stepped into what I could only describe as a gymnasium. I must have looked ridiculous as I gaped at everyone and everything. A squat, four legged furry creature with eyes on waving stalks that could look all around it. A seven foot tall cyclops with purple skin. A forehead-ridged warrior walked through with glistening steel on his back. I balked for a moment when I saw what looked like a man with a sheet over himself, two eyes cut out. He looked like a silly ghost costume. \"When I created the idea of ghosts and the afterlife, I had to give humans a vision of what ghosts looked like. I used his image.\" \n\nWe kept walking until we reached our booth. The table was labeled, \"The Human Condition: A biological prototype weapon, designed for extended interstellar planetary extermination services.\" \n\nI paused. I looked at God, who looked at me. I looked at the table and then looked at God. God looked at the table, then looked at me. \n\n\"Uhhh... Would you mind explaining what that means.\" I pointed to the sign on the table. God fidgeted for a moment and sighed. \n\n\"Well Tony, you see. Every deity has a home planet. And sometimes we have bug infestations and pests to clear out. I decided to solve the problem, and I have. Humans are excellent pest killers. All natural, self-reproducing, and quite aggressive when threatened. You're a perfect solution to our many pest problems. I'm hoping to get the Virgo Supercluster grant to go Universe-Wide with my patented human technology, and to start setting up franchises in other dimensions. With any luck, I'll be rich by the end of the century.\" \n\n\"I'm a bug spray.\" \n\n\"You're a bug spray.\" \n\n" ]	7
	[WP] After a head injury, a man has an unusual problem: every time he falls asleep, he wakes up ten years in the past.	[ "I open my eyes, still groggy from the blow to my head. I don't know what that guy's problem was, but he could throw a mean right hook. Ok, deep breaths, this headache will have to go away soon. Now, where am I? I glance at my surroundings. Cardboard boxes, a dumpster, and an overwhelming scent of urine. An alley then. I carefully pick myself up, wincing when my knee knocks against the dumpster. \n\nFinally I'm up. Forehead feels sticky. I touch it, glance at the hand. Some blood, but its not too bad. I'll live. Without thinking I dive into my pocket, pull out a cigarette and light it. Gotta get home. After a few limping blocks, I have my bearings, and I'm not too far from my apartment. Something feels wrong as I start on familiar paths. Can't place my finger on it. Probably the concussion.\n\nFront door. Key in lock, jacket on the ground, pants off. 2 advil and a glass of water. Collapse into bed. I'll feel better in the morning- \n\nand I awake to a scream, which is not helping this headache, let me tell you. A girl, mid 20s. Wearing a towel. She's staring at me and screaming bloody murder. \"HOW DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE?!\" Look around the room - its clearly not mine. I don't remember having any My Chemical Romance posters in my room. Wrong apartment last night? I mutter an apology, stumble our, clothes in hand. Who even has MCR posters?\n\nIn the hallway I see the door number clearly. 4a. My apartment number. But on mine the paint is chipping, the door stained. Here its fresh. What could've happened?\n\nWhatever. Gonna call my sister. She's had a rough week or so, which is part of the reason I got in a fight with what's his name. What a prick. The phone rings a few times before she picks it up. \"Alan?\" She sounds confused. \n\n\"Hey sis. How are you feeling?\"\n\n\"How are you calling from this number? I thought you were in prison?\"\n\nNot again. I got out 8 years ago, but she gets... confused. \"Sis? I got out, remember? I served my time. You came to pick me up, remember?\"\n\n\"no, I visited you last week, and you've still got 2 years to go! You said so!\"\n\n\"Tell you what, I'm gonna come over, ok? I'll prove it to you.\"\n\nI start to pull Uber up on my phone, then realize its not working. Whatever. I'll get a cab.\n\n\"Just hang on, ok Jess? I'll be right there.\"\n\nCab ride. Gotta compose myself. She needs me to be calm for this. It's been a while since she's been this bad, but it was only a matter of time. But the cab ride is long, so I close my eyes. Just a short nap can't hurt, and my head is still pounding-\n\nI'm on the street. Why am I on the street? Whats the time? How long's Jess been waiting for me? Pull my phone out- no satellite? I'm in the middle of the city for chrissake. In the middle of the street even. A car honks as it swerves around me.\n\n--\nDone for now, I'll probably continue later", "It has now been nearly one hundred hours since I last slept.\n\nRight now, I'm sixteen years old and as I tilt back the can, my mind distantly counts it as can seventy-three My parents ran out of coffee beans on day two. \n\nOr maybe it was day three. It's hard to keep track.\n\nI should have been happy to have seen my parents, but the only thing I could think of was how to stay awake, as I stole the coffee right out of Dad's hand. But then again, they've also been dead for forty years of my life.\n\nThirteen days ago, I hit my head. Thirteen days ago I was also seventy-six years old. I did what any senior citizen would do. I went to the doctor to see if it was serious, and the tired, overworked, fresh out of med school, son-of-a-bitch told me that it was probably nothing, to sleep it off, with a blank slack-jawed expression on his face.\n\nWhat the hell am I paying him for? Telling me to sleep it off, didn't even prescribe me anything. Well, anyway, I did.\n\nI went to bed, and when I woke up my wife Alice was next to me. I screamed, I swore like a sailor. Why you might ask? Because Alice had been dead for six years. I think that may have been the best day ever for me. To hold her in my arms again, I went to bed a happy man. \n\nAnd I woke up again 56 this time, and had another wonderful day. It wasn't until I was 46 again that I realized something.\n\nAlice was a fucking bitch. Nagging me about the bank accounts, the leaking roof, the lawn, the goddamn dog--it's a fucking robot, it doesn't even need to be walked. It's 2046, and she acts like she can't do anything.\n\nSo I did the rational thing here, and took a sleeping pill. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was 36, and still married to Alice. I popped another soon as I could, and I was a free man.\n\nThose two days, I remember them so clearly. I called up my old friend Ryan, and finally did that trip to Thailand we had always talked about. And the coke. And the molly, and the acid, and the MDMA.\n\nIt time of my life, even if I don't remember most of it. The last moment of clarity I had was me finishing inside of a petite hooker. \n\nAnd then I was sixteen again-with this stupid, patchy fucking beard that I would give up on for nearly two years. \n\nAnd I'll tell you I've never been more afraid. I stole money from my Dad's wallet, my mom's purse, ran to the convenience store run by that dude who was linked to ISIS. I bought crates of Amp, Red Bull, 5-Hour Energy--anything that would keep me awake.\n\nI don't want to sleep again. I don't want to fall asleep and be six. What's going to happen of I fall asleep then?\n\nI don't want to fall asleep and be nothing." ]	2
	[WP] Write me a horror story where the last line is "it laughed and laughed with a smile"	[ " It was a normal day nothing out of the ordinary ordinary. However when i was shopping with my girlfriend i saw a cat in an alleyway kind of smiling but with a human smile, i started to panic i went to reach for my girlfriend but she was farther away than i expected, my eyes darted back to the alley and the cat was gone so i thought nothing of it. I thought, \"it's just a dream, no a daydream. Yea thats it, a daydream.\" That thought put me at ease. After we went shopping... yea that's when things got cheesy, almost so cheesy i could smell it. My boss called while me and my girlfriend where making dinner... one of the higher ups had had suddenly died and i was apparently the most appropriate choice to fill in his job. I said,\"w-what about James, he's a far more suitable than i am...oh he quit, right. Then I'll be more than happy to take it.\" After that the night got better and better. My dad suddenly just didn't have cancer and my brother was released from prison everything was going great. \n\n \"Uhhh, what time is it?\"...the phone rings, but i kid you not it sounded like the sound was off but not like something noticeable, it was barely off but it was there. I didn't really care because it was really late or early i couldn't tell but i should've noticed i shouldn't have picked up that dang phone i knew something was wrong but i didn't pay attention. I picked up the phone...i can't hear anything \"hello\"...nothing i go to put down the phone then i hear a voice say \"There is always a stray dog being pitied a stray cat being shunned.\" -Click- whoever it was it was probably just a stupid teenager pulling some prank. I go back to sleep. \n \n I wake up with a black cat on my chest but there's something off all is fur is black and that's normal but it's eye dear god it's eyes, they were black pitch black they were void of color. I freak out and go to grab the cat but when i do my hands go through it and it kind of vaporizes into a black mist. I scream....my girlfriend already left for work so she wasn't there. I go downstairs and eat breakfast then i turn on the TV, news of course \"Two murders in two nights there was no evidence except three slash marks on both of the victims throats.\" I turn the TV off.\n\n At around 9 and 10 my wife still hasn't been home so i go to bed. A voice is, it's speaking is really muffled so i can only make out a few words they were \"futile\" \"hope\" and \"lost\". I bolt up right in a cold sweat . it's bright out i go downstairs again and i turn on the TV not getting anything to eat. \"A-a car crash!?\" It's my girlfriend. About five days later i go to the funeral I'm dehydrated from all of the water loss it's raining as well...classic but it nails the depressing feeling. I look away and see a black cat. I nearly piss myself I was so pissed when i saw it's eyes were black like damn voids i get in my car and drive off in a rage fueled escape. It's so rainy i can barely see anything then something jumps in front of my car from the side of the street i stop and get out. I nearly puke on the road was the mangled corpse of my girlfriend. I get back in my car and keep driving.finally I'm home i go into my room and see a, i don't even know what to call it it's body was as thin as an average smart phone and its head was like a cats head as if it was taken off of a cat and sewed on to this, this thing it started crawling towards me in a really awkward way. It seemed as though it had malicious attempt and frankly i didn't care after all that happened i felt dead inside. It finally got to me and it jabbed one of its hands through my chest and i blacked out. \n \n I woke up surprised to be alive but it wasn't right i was pointed down and then i heard footsteps,really awkward footsteps it was that damn thing it stood above me with sharp instruments on a table next to me. I screamed then it said \"futile...hope..s..s..lost\" it said those words in such a way that it sounded like it was just learning English but also in such a way that it sent a shiver down my spine and shit into my pants it picked up a scalpel and cut a hole in my abdominal area. I would've puked if there wasn't a binding on my mouth. Then the thing stuck is long sharp fingers into the hole i felt really sharp pain. It pulled it's hand out and in its hand was a kidney. Dear god it pulled out one of my kidneys. I started crying wanting to go back home. then it leaned over my face and the damn thing took a bite of my kidney i started to black out again except i was sure i wasn't waking up from this. It stared deep in my eyes his pitch black eyes stared into my damn eyes then in a muffled distorted tone it laughed...it laughed and laughed with a smile." ]	1
	[WP] Magic exists, but the nature of it is unique to the user, like a fingerprint.	[ "'can we stop for food?' moaned Ghon from the backseat. 'Ghon, i swear to god, i will reach back there and kill the fucking shit out of you' snarled Jerris, riding shotgun. Ghon laughed 'I'd like to see you try, Jerry'. The nickname Ghon called him always got Jerris' nerves, but Jerris refrained, 'I actually cannot even be bothered, youre not even worth it'. True. I thought to myself, Ghon was practically immortal, simply because he could regenerate from any wound, a handy trait to possess in our line of work. But the side effect was that to keep up this unbreakable defence, he was always hungry, and had to consume copious amounts of food, often at the expense of the Ministry that funded us. \n\nThe conversation between my companions had always been savage and violent, to the extent they would often fight until they were exhausted, with no amount of intervention able to stop them once they began, you really did just have to let it take its course once that occurred. Anyone new to our dynamic would deduce that we'd been heaped together for our abilities of huge strength and versatility, but in truth, when shit hits the fan, there are no two people i'd rather have watching my back.\n\n'were almost here' I said. Partly because it was the truth, but mostly because if i hadn't they would be at it each other in less than 30 seconds. 'have to say Im keen to see what new recruits we have in the regiment ' asked Jerris. 'I wonder if they'll serve lasagna' chimed Ghon. 'can you think of anything besides what can go in your fucking stomach?' said Jerris. 'I once thought about opening my own restau-'. 'dont answer the question Ghon' i said 'anything more will set old ticker here off'. \nSee Jerris was what the ministry call a combustion-based Rogue, but anyone who knows anything, refer to them as bomb-men. and never has a bomb man not been short tempered, its both their biggest strength and their biggest weakness, i guess.\n\nTurning into an alley, I turned the key to turn the car off. Us three piled out, with the car suspension finally being relieved with Ghons exit, returned to its original height. we entered through a metal door and into a vast expanse that doesn't meet with regular architecture, as this space was much larger than what the outside should allow it to be. designed by Leorik Sundergaan, a man defined by the ministry as an architect, had built many of these creations with just his mind, many like him have been classified as architects, but his power stands above the rest, as he doesnt require raw materials or an original design to copy, he simply imagines it and it appears. nifty power, i thought.\n\nThe ministry had always attempted to group and label abilities to better identify them, but because of the slight difference in each individuals they often fit into multiple areas, which is an administrative nightmare for their seers. a fancy name they call their paper pushers. Because just as they define a power, it is not uncommon to have that power never reappear, so in the end, there was no point. The powers that have never reappeared are what we call god-tier, as they are often incredibly powerful or useful. There have been only 7 recorded, with only 1 currently still being active. It belonged to the man who was the head of the Ministry, a man called Reqrestrius John, an imposing man standing 7f 5, and with the incredible power to cancel, as in cancel anything he wanted, all he had to do was touch it, and it would vanish. with this power, he had ended all adversaries in their stance, and had brought peace to our world. But another power was quickly being considered as the 8th god-tier trait, the ability of complete mind, body and soul manipulation, and the one to possess this power, was yours truly.\n\nWith this power, I would take Johns position and rule this world. i thought to myself\n\n\n", "Ajax took one final drag off his cigarette, then flicked it off into the distance and came back inside. I was still kneeling next to the mutilated body that lie on the singed carpet in the middle of the half burnt, half frozen living room we were standing in. Another one of us, gone. So few of us remained, with about 99.99% of the population not able to tap into their most inner core, their \"soul\", if you will.\n\nBefore I really get into the story, let me give you a crash course in to what I'm talking about right now, as I'm sure you're lost as shit. Everyone, every human being who has ever existed or will ever exist has the essence of magic in them. And not that fake Las Vegas, \"oh I'm such hot shit because I can break out of a box, look how awesome and mysterious and magical I am\" type either. I mean the real, fairy tale type of shit that you dreamed of as a kid that made you wish you could fly in your dreams. And, whether you believe it or not, you weren't just a stupid child back then, you really can. \n\nWell, hypothetically speaking. See, everyone has \"magic\" in them, however, magic is... unpredictable, and can manifest itself in entirely new and unique ways of being for each person. No two humans will ever have the exact same essence, as that's what really makes you, you. So, sorry if you ever happen to be the one out of a half a billion fucking people that has their magic manifest, and instead of being able to fly you find that all you can do is glow in the fucking dark. Don't mean to crush your dreams, I say that because it's happened.\n\nNow that we're all good and understood, buckle the fuck up, this story's about to get... probably no more interesting than it is now. Fair warning. Also, if you don't like explicit topics or foul language, then... I'm not really sure how you got this far in the story, I'm pretty sure I've already dropped like three F bombs. It's not getting any better either, I fucking promise. \n\nAnywhore, back to the story.\n\nAjax appearently forgot how gruesome the scene in front of us really was, which was why he needed stepped out for a cigarette in the first place, because he almost threw up all over again, this time it would've gotten on what was left of the body. Ajax was my absolute, 100%, show up with a dead body on my doorstep and we bury it together no questions asked, best friend. Still constantly made fun of him for being a fucking pansy. \n\n\"... Niko. Do you think... do you think you can tell what his abilities were? What kind of person he was, anything?... Is there any of his soul left at all?\"\n\nThe way my magic manifested in me was especially unique, even among other magic users, save for two. The magic inside of me allowed me to absorb the abilities of others, as well as use them for my own, without any injury or harm to the host of the magic I was absorbing. The only other two people with a similar ability were both members of my bloodline, both with alot more... violent outcomes. My \"brother\", Nero, had to actually kill the individual, and consume the heart, the home of the soul, in order to absorb their abilities. My \"father\", Necro's ability was even darker. He could consume the awakened souls of other magic users without actually needing to kill them, and instead leaving them as empty shells of what we're once amazing human beings with extraordinary potential. The worst part about it, they were addicted to the consumption of souls, to the pain and anguish those poor people went through. Sadistic fucks.\n\nIn this case, i was 101% certain it was my brother, as I've seen him recreate the same scene for the past seven centuries and I'm about seven centuries too tired of this shit. I'm hunting them both down. Ajax, the only one that I truly consider family anymore, is even more tired of it than I am now, which, to be fair, he has the right to be. You can't kill a man who's immortal, so instead, they've spent the last two centuries doing in his bloodline instead, just to watch him die a little on the inside with every lost life. This scene right here, the corpse we were staring at, is (or rather, was) the last of his descendants, his great, great, great, great, great, great, great, many more greats, grandson. \n\n\"... I can't brother, I'm... I'm really sorry. There's absolutely nothing left...\"\n\n\"...And with that, nothing left of my bloodline, no one besides me to carry on my name... Niko, I swear to you, by the time I'm done with them, you'll be the last of your bloodline too.\"\n\n\"You'd be doing me a favor there brother. Come on, let's head back to base, we have to inform nova.\" We stepped outside, and I was just about to teleport us back to base, when he took a hold of my arm.\n\n\"Hey Niko?\"\n\n\"Yea?\"\n\n\"Can we stop and get a drink first?\"\n\n\"Sure thing brother...\"\n\n\n\nFirst time writing an actual story here, sorry if it's crappy. I can make a part two if you think it's half decent thougb" ]	2
	[WP] Due to a misunderstanding between two groups sharing the same acronym, you end up at the wrong meeting.	[ "\"Ohhh shiiii-\" I turned and sprinted down the hallway after I slammed the door. Almost a dozen chocolate bodies came barreling through the freshly slammed wooden door, all with a wild look of anger and hunger. It was down the hallway making a turn, thank god, before the black people spotted me, but their acceleration was almost inhuman when they caught a glimpse of me, a delicious outsider. I knew I shouldn't have drank before I went to a meeting. \nMy head was pounding climbing up stairs of the complex. Where was everybody? I opened a door to a balcony looking down to the lobby. I could hear the thunder of the obsidian humanoids behind me. I knew I had to take a leap of faith or I would be gazelle meat. I jumped over the stone balcony fence and I was drifting through the air while I heard the upstate door break open. I saw I was falling towards a table... CRASH!!\n\nI looked around. Wreckage. I looked at my limbs, functional. I leaned up and felt manageable pain. What was going on? One day I am making the biggest mistake of my life, drinking behind the wheel, now I may have found a bigger one behind the door of what i thought was am AA meeting. What where all of these aggressive Africans doing charging at me? I took my flask out of my belt and took a long swig. \"Must've had the wrong meeting\" I told myself, in a harsh, badass voice. I folded up and put my hands on the ground behind me and got up as broken pieces of wood are tossed around and make wood plank noises. I felt weak as I grabbed a plank of wood. I looked at the staircase, now on the bottom floor. They're not gonna stop. I reluctantly walk towards the base of the stairs,2x4 at the waist in one hand, mouthing out a cigarette through a case in the other. I lit the beauty and thought about how my day would've been if I had been more careful. Guess we'll never know.", "Neal works for a company with the acronym NHS he receives an email with the address of where his meeting is going to be held. It is down up in Boston a three hour drive from where Neal works. Neal decides to take the day off Friday and drive up there and enjoy the weekend and go sightseeing before his meeting on Monday. He gets up early in the morning and starts driving up to Boston excited because he is going to see a celtics game later in the evening with a coworker. Neal arrives in Boston finding his hotel with ease and resting for a little bit before going out to dinner at a famous burger place before heading out to the game. He has fun with his coworker at the game and the Celtics blow out the other team by 30 points. The rest of the weekend is pretty uneventful. Finally Monday morning comes along and Neal realizes he didn’t save the address for the email and he didn’t have access to his laptop while down in Boston. Neal runs downstairs hoping to be able to access his email only to remember that he can only do it using a certain program installed on the work computers. He goes to his car and puts NHS in his gps clicking the first option Neal is lead to this building that is relatively small compared to everything else in the area. He walks into the building and says he is here for the Monday morning meeting to be let in by one of the ladies at the front desk. He goes up to floor twelve where the meeting is being held in meeting room four. He walks into the room seeing nobody he knew there he thought it was just higher ups and people from other branches so he just takes a seat and patiently waits for the meeting to start. The meeting starts and he realizes that he doesn’t recognize anyone and the friend brought to the game wasn't there either. His mind racing as he waits to see what they talk about realize that they are talking about community service work and he showed up to the National Honor Society building. Neal didn’t want to suddenly walk out so he waits and waits for the meeting to end when it’s over it's already three in the afternoon and his meeting ending well before three. He calls up his friend only to be told that his boss is furious that he skipped out on this meeting and that they learned a whole lot of new information that will be helpful for the project Neal is working on. Neal, his boss, and his friend meet up at the coffee shop later and discuss what happened. Neal’s boss wasn’t as angry after hearing what happened but Neal worked overtime every day for the next three weeks to try and repay his boss. Six months pass and they have another meeting and Neal decides to hitch a ride with his friend so that he won’t get lost again.\n", "Jimmy scanned the room looking for his friends, but could only see adult men chatting and debating.\n\nHe could've sworn that the new club they had signed up for was meeting today, and couldn'tve gotten the wrong address.\n\nA mere second before he walked out the door, the room went silent and a booming voice rang out.\n\n\"EVERYONE TAKE YOUR SEATS. THE INCLUSION CEREMONY FOR OUR NEWEST MEMBERS WILL BEGIN IN A FEW MOMENTS.\"\n\nHe looked at the stage and to his surprise, saw Mr. Johnson, the biology teacher from the high school. \"Huh,\" he thought, \"isn't Mrs. Schayer supposed to be the leader of the club?\" He couldn't seem to recall a ceremony being mentioned on the flyer either, but shrugged it off as something for school spirit.\n\nMr. Johnson had an oddly cold and steely look in his eyes, one that seemed quite the contrary to how his older brother described him. There was something off about the people that made him uneasy but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.\n\nHe looked back up at the makeshift stage and saw two young men in their early 20's being prodded like cattle up to the top by a few older men who Jimmy recognized as his dad's golfing friends. One of them held up what appeared to be a metal cross with letters on it and stuck it straight into a small fire that the other members had started. \n\nNot five minutes later, they tore the stick with the cross out from the flames amd, much to Jimmy's horror, put the still red-hot iron straight into the men's backs one at a time before pronouncing them official members.\n\nChoking from the sickly sweet smell of burning flesh, Jimmy leaned in closer to read the letters emblazoned onto their backs, and ran out of the building in disbelief. How could GMS allow such a thing? Forcing adults and children to become a permanent member of their club? This was the exact opposite of what was advertised to him.\n\nHe then vowed to never, ever go to another Kool Kids Klub meeting again.", "\nMy costume was exquisite. \n\nA formal suit, in the Italian style, with a pristine white shirt - ironed of course - a simple black bowtie, and a rose in the lapel. But it was more than just an outfit.\n\nThe moustache, perfectly trimmed. The faint olive tinge to my skin, meticulously added to my Anglo-American face via subtle makeup. Slight tinges of grey in my short wavy hair, eyes that burned with passion and intensity, and wrinkles that conveyed stress without age.\n\nThe only man that could look more like Vito Corleone than me was the long-dead great actor himself. \n\nI strode into the meeting room and under the sign that read \"NAMBLA\". I would win the National Marlon Brando Look Alike competition for the year.\n\n________________\n\nSuddenly I realised that there was noone else around who looked even remotely like me. Were these people all impersonating other roles played by the great man over his long career? I knew everything about the role of Vito, but might not recognise his lesser known characters.\n\nEveryone was male, at least, although many of the people were quite young - possibly too young even to be impersonating the great Brando's first roles.\n\nConfusion turned to mortification as the announcer spoke.\n\n\"Welcome, all, to the North American Man-Boy Love Association!\"\n\n__________________\n\n(Thanks to South Park season 1 for the idea!)", "I sit down on one of the many folded out metal and plastic chairs and sigh. I had a severe drinking problem and I wanted to get help for it. So I signed up for AA.\n\n\"Welcome everyone, Randal...If you would like to begin please?\"\n\n\"I'd like to thank all of you other people who are here to support me and share the same problems that I do. My name is Randal and I am an asshole.\"\n\nI got confused and looked at the counselor. \"What is this?\"\n\n\"Assholes Anonymous\"", "I'm not technically in this, but I thought it would be funny. Also, I haven't watched all of Archer, so no spoilers please. \n\nEdit: Had to throw in another reference. \n\n\n\n\"Lana\"\n\n\"Laanaa\"\n\n\"Lana\"\n\n\"LAAAANAAAA\"\n\n\"WHAT!\"\n\n\"Why are we in Syria? Couldn't we have had the ISIS Christmas Party somewhere else? And why are there all of these weird men with masks and guns?\"\n\n\"Jesus Christ Archer... It's not a fucking Christmas Party, it's a meeting for the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria. Not a god damn fucking Christmas Party.\"\n\n\n\"Oops.\" Archer says as the ISIS militants fire down a hail of bullets, somehow missing all of them, to which Archer proudly states, \n\n\"Welcome to the Danger Zone.\"\n\n", "\"Okay everyone! Sit down and shut up.\"\n\nDaniel sighed. It was never his turn to lead the group meetings, and this idiot obviously didn't know what he was doing.\n\n\"Today, we will be discussing our plans to ban animal haters from using computers.\"\n\n\"What?!\" This is where Daniel had to speak up. This imbecile was going to ruin their groups' reputation! \"You do know this is the other PETA monthly meeting right?\"\n\nThe speaker turned bright red. Whether it was with embarrassment or fury, Daniel couldn't tell. He stormed off stage and slammed the door behind him.\nDaniel took the opportunity and hopped onto the stage.\n\n\"Calm down everyone! Let us begin meal #56 of People Eating Tasty Animals!\"", "\"Well. This is awkward,\" I announced, tugging nervously at the back of my spandex tights.\n\nI unfolded the metal chair I was carrying, set it down, and sat on it, removing my belt and draping it over a shoulder so it wouldn't dig in to my abs. \n\n\"But I already paid the entrance fee, so. Ya mind?\"\n\nThe speaker at the lectern shook her head as if to clear her thoughts, and shrugged. \"I suppose not. Anyway, back to the plight of the Norwegian polar bear population...\" " ]	8
I got the idea from [this](https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/4u231i/what_asshole_fact_do_you_know_that_will_ruin_the/d5mb25i) chain of comments and thought it would make a better prompt if the main character could notice that people were dying around him/her rather than in another country. Do with the idea whatever you want though, I can't wait to see what you all come up with!	[WP] Every time you clap someone random within your vicinity dies	[ "It had been twenty years since I walked those halls. Twenty years is a lot of time. A lot of time, and not a lot of people dead. Now that sounds a bit harsh, but this particular group of people? Oh these sons of bitches totally deserved it.\n\nI took the stage and approached the mic. A nervous tap preceded my cough. \"Hi, I know I'm not the one who should be starting this thing off, but I figured we could welcome everyone to the 20th reunion of the class of 1996! Come on guys, let's give ourselves a round of applause, you've more than earned this!\"\n\nI began the slow clap and a then it grew. Soon everybody who could was joining in. It took a few minutes before people realized what was actually going on...", "I never understood how I got this \"ability\". It was just there one day when I woke up. \n\nI was 17 at the time. It was the summer vacation and as any other teenager does in the summer I sat inside all day and watched YouTube videos. I laughed at stand up comedians and I clapped along. Good thing that I couldn't manage to clap more than ten times because otherwise the entire neighborhood would have been gone. I was interrupted by the sound of ambulance sirens on my street. A day later, understandably, there was a line of hearses in front of the cemetery. Nobody knew at the time what had happened exactly. There was a ton of investigations, medics, experts, police, microbiologists. They found nothing. At the end they said it was something in the water and everyone drank bottled water for 7 months.\n\nAnd how did I discover that I was the cause of all this chaos? One day me and my grand-grandfather were at his home in the village. He was talking to me, sharing his memories of the war - you know things that a grandfather usually talks about, but have never probably happened the way he tells them because even he can't remember a bloody thing. So he was rambling, for the 26th time, about how he crawled trough a trench to get to Hitler's bunker and help a time traveler from another prompt to kill him and end the war. As always I wasn't very interested in that whole thing, because I've heard it more than enough times. Instead I focused my attention on a small house fly that was buzzing in front of my face. To be precise I was planning on killing her with my bare hands. I waited for the perfect moment to jump into action. I studied the rhythmical and repetitive movements of the fly that was doing circles in front of my face. Just as it was finishing her last circle my hands swung towards it and crushed it with a clap. Yes, a clap. That of course resulted in the immediate and irreversible death of my grand-grandfather just at the climax of his story - just as he was stabbing Hitler in the heart with a plastic fork. His face froze, soulless, into an expression of pain while his right hand was grabbing his heart. In this position he slowly slid down to the ground and dropped on his knees, and then fell forward. I stayed there for a second trying to grasp everything that had just happened. I look at my hands, still together, I look at the dead person lying on the floor next to me. I call for help while still thinking what just happened. \n\nSomehow, later in my sleep, I realized that I have this \"ability\". Understandably, the next morning I canceled my ticket for the stand-up comedy show that was coming to town, because that would have been a bigger disaster that even an ISIS attack. I think they would actually hire me if they were not too afraid that I would turn on them. \n\nYes. That's it. There is my crazy story. You are actually the first one I tell this. I have not told anyone I know. Plus it is a new thing. I've had it only for, like, half a year. So I am still getting used to it. And it takes a few casualties to learn. But don't worry, I am getting the hang of it.\n\nOh look. A fly.\n-clap-" ]	2
	[WP] Baseball becomes the most lethal sport in the world.	[ " The pitcher nervously picks up the ball, half expecting it to explode, half hoping it won't. Luckily, it doesn't, and he winds up to pitch. as he throws it, he realizes what a terrible mistake he's made. This specific pitch has doomed everyone not only in the stadium, but the entire city. As the ball begins to reach the speed of light, the air turns to plasma, destroying the stadium and surrounding city.\n\n In Chicago, The ball thrown is of a different caliber, proceeding to release an electric shock into the batter, catcher, and umpire; killing them all instantly. As a result of the batter being electrocuted, the angle at which the ball was hit has gone wild, managing to smash through the announcer's booth and kill one.\n\n The National's stadium is supposedly designed to contain any incident that may happen, except for a nuclear strike as the runner reaches home plate. The plate was actually a trigger that launches all of the nuclear weapons in america. just earlier, a runner sliding into 2nd managed to set off a land mine chain, requiring a new runner, second baseman, and first baseman. It took the United State's Capital being destroyed to ban baseball across the world.", "Sigrun spits as his fingers grip into the ball with enough force to squash an apple. His eyes connect with Vlad the Impaler's. Vlad, with his studded bat, returns the glare with an electricity unfamiliar to the spectators. The crowd stops yelling obscenities and falls silent.\n\nSigrun's first pitch is a strike. Vlad lets his bat fall into the dirt with a heavy thud, a subtle threat. Sigrun sees the threat. A bead of sweat betrays the pressure he feels. Sigrun knows he must act fast.\n\nHe winds up for a pitch — and at the last second substitutes the ball for a spiked metal one hidden in the sack hanging from his belt. He throws it with enough force to almost dislocate his arm. Vlad isn't prepared — the ball strikes him on the side of the face with a THWACK audible to the whole stadium. Vlad falls and the crowd roars — the opposing team's last batter has been dispatched.\n\nThe roars quickly choke when Vlad's bat swipes into the dirt and Vlad uses it to stand. Blood coats his sunken cheek, lending ferocity to his dark, glinting eyes. Dust drifts from his feet as the hot sun beats down on the field. Sigrun's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows a bit harder than he meant to.\n\nVlad the Impaler begins striding forward, his bat twirling until it clicks against his metal-plated gauntlet. He holds the bat now, a menacing position inherent with power and danger. Nobody dares step forward to stop him — they have heard the stories.\n\nThe crowd screams once Vlad reaches Sigrun and begins the work that earned him his nickname. One man leans over to his son and says, \"Baseball's changed since the Apocalypse.\"" ]	2
	[WP] In the grim cyberpunk future, egregiously bad jokes are punished by imprisonment. Your one chance for freedom is to survive for 90 minutes in an amusement park, pursued by The Comedians. Your every move is televised in the nations's wildly popular TV show, Saturday Night Live.	[ "The klaxon sounded as I raced off into the park, I had a couple of minutes to hide, unfortunately I didn't plan on hiding.\n\nThe issue with this idea of imprisonment, I had concluded weeks earlier, is that it needed fear from the participant. It focused on fear. In order to scare inmates, they would show episodes as we waited to be loaded into a truck and taken to the park.\n\nThe other thing you would notice, is that they all played by the rules. Running for their lives in a desperate bid for freedom. Sure, some lived. But many died. The Comedians, highly skilled killers that were either androids or cyborg (I was never sure which is which) would toy with them, then kill them.\n\nSo obviously keeping a level head was key. My one advantage is that they didn't know what I was up to as I cut between two buildings. Poor bastards that locked me up thought I was terrified by the show, because I watched so many episodes as I rocked back and forth. In truth, I was memorising what I could. \n\n\"Take a left after the two fast food stores, then head down to point B!\" I shouted loudly as I took a right after squeezing between the two fast food restaurants. The plan was simple. Hit, don't get hit. It was fairly obvious that yes, you could start all the rides from a centeral control room. Usually people did it as they scrambled to escape, but for me? It was to distract my yet to be released hunters. Bright lights, shitty songs and lots of moving objects? They'd have to focus a little harder to catch me, and if they slip up I'm walking out of here.\n\nI slowed myself by jumping and kicking off a brick wall, and wasted no time in running away from the control room door to the woods thst dominated about an eighth of the park.\n\nWhen killer robots run through the woods, they knock trees over. Small, strudy trees. Small strudy trees which could double as say, a battering ram for thin metal doors that usually require a key. Bingo! I picked up a log, erm, branch? That was fairly wide, fairly thick and probably a hardwood. The Klaxon sounded again, shit I was too slow.\n\nMy hunters have been released, The Comedians. Some died to them aftwe eing ripped in half, others by a clean bullet to the head. Their most deadly weapon was a laugh that would rip a tank in half. \n\nThe door concaved and broke in after a few hits, I turned on every ride, light and attraction I could, and fired all of the fireworks at once then legged it.\n\nManly sure. Running in the same manner as the rest of the little bitches. The difference is, I had the advantage here. I had the time advantage by breaking the sequence. I was supposed the get the key from the other side of the park and unlock the door that way. It had taken me ten minutes to get here from the centre of the park, back and forth in a straight line means I'd need to run for a half hour straight. I'd be too exhausted to survive after that. \n\nEighty minutes. Brilliant. I'm so fucked.\n\nI darted out the control room, heavy weazing acompanied my exist, I was extremely tired. I could buy myself another twenty minutes by sequence breaking, but once I did that, I'd need to survive an hour on my own wits. Planning only got you so far I suppose.\n\nMy trusty log was heavy, but needed. My target was about five minutes away sprinting, and nothing brought out the best in me like the risk of death! There was a series of tunnels underneath the park, obviously meant to imitate actual park conditions. They were scheduled to open at the fifty minute mark, but that wouldn't do for me. Especially since I've never seen The Comedians use the tunnels before that good old fifty mark. Probably couldn't, those robotic brains preventing them from bashing open the door. \n\nI lept over a small pound, almost. I tripped and got a mouth full of fresh water for my efforts. Now I was dripping wet, giving my persuers an even easier to follow trail. \"Fantastic!\" I roared. They were probably close. \n\nI scrambled out of the fountain like a fat kid scrambles out of a sports camp, I raced down the streets with a cry of \"Kenya can suck it!\" Which was not only racist, but incorrect. I meant to insult Usain Bolt, but he was a short distance sprinted, and this was more akin to a Marathon. Probably should have told Mo to suck my D, but in my defence I was trying to survive.\n\nI broke down the door to the tunnels. It flew off its hinges with a loud bang as i raced inside, only stopping to push the door back up against the frame. I told myself \"If it buys me just a tenth of a second, it's worth it.\"\n\nAnd then I rested, waiting for the clunk of The Comedians boots so I could enact the next part of my plan, stealing their weapon.\n\nBut it never came.\n\nI waited the full hour, anticipation gripping my muscles and tightening them, but it never came.\n\nAnd so, I walked out a free man.\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Little did they know we walked amongst them that night.	[ "\nLittle did they know we walked amongst them that night.\n\nWe only go out in small groups, as we never want to create a stir.\n\nWe disguise ourselves with hats and non-descript trench coats.\n\nThe attire seems overdone, but it always seems to work.\n \nHumans are busy bodies who are on to the next thing. \n\nThey are like ants, always working on their next ambition.\n\nIt’s fun to see them, not behind a glass, but in their natural environment.\n\nThey are all unique, but at the same time, all alike. \n\nIt is a nice change in this role reversal. \n\nWe often feel trapped in our homes, and the humans always flock to.\n\nThey always want something, a picture, our things, or a hug.\n\nThey get upset, when we do not show, again always wanting more.\n\nThey press their faces against our glass, yell, and bang\n\n“Mom make him do something interesting!” the fat tart screams.\n\nThe mother is always insulting “They are fat, what do you expect?”\n\nWe loose either way, if get up, we have satisfied the brat\n\nStay still, and we they think we are worthless. \n\nMe? I stay still and let them think I’m miserable, because I know they are.\n\nI like to walk around the city to see who is paying attention to the world.\n\nMost are too absorbed in their phones to see past their own hand. \n\nBut a few notice us. They smile in disbelief, but say nothing. \n\nIt is our little secret, because they too have seen the ignorance of man. \n\nThey are the visionaries, not wanting the best for themselves, but the world\n\nDespite their peers they are going to make this world better\n\nThey will be called crazy, insane, losers, fakers, and idiots\n\nBut they will ignore those hurtful words, because of those who believe in them.\n\nThey will also know pandas walk around in trench coats, so their idea can’t be that stupid.\n", "\"Siiiiiiir! Whats those snails doing?\"\n\nDr Mehmed sighed. Whoever thought that it would be a good idea to bring this gaggle of Year 7s on a team-building residential camping trip? Splattering mud as he went, he made his way over to the cluster of excited boys.\n\nTwo large snails sat on top of a rock, grey, slimy, intertwined. Dr Mehmed peered at them intently. Cornu aspersum.\n\n\"These two molluscs are engaged in an act of sexual reproduction, Jamie. Typically the species are hermaphroditic, however, self fertilisation is a rare event, so the snails generally reproduce sexually. The genitalia is positioned on the neck, and the specimens launch love darts at one another, composed of calcium. 80 ova are typically laid per batch.\"\n\nThe boys leapt back, some retching.\n\n\"That's like, well disgusting sir. Why do you even know that?\"\n\n\"Maintaining a general knowledge, Jamie. I endeavour to be able to boggle the mind of vacuous pupils such as yourself, strive to provide a more wholesome education than-\"\n\n\"Or you could just admit you like watching snails sir!\" The shout came from somewhere within the tight knit group, immediately drowned out in a flood of giggles.\n\nMehmed stroked his moustache irascibly. \"Gentlemen, may I remind you that the centre of the Sun is nearly geometrically 50 arcminutes below the horizontal plane. In other words, it is approximately sunset. You must erect your tabernacles.\" \n\nSomeone sniggered.\n\n\"Timothy! Is my informative speech amusing you in some manner? Do you find my advice to be entertaining?\"\n\nTimmy looked up, red in the face. \"No sir.\"\n\n\"Good. Please, go and locate George and relieve him of his duty of excavating a lavatorial pit. None of your feeble excuses, off you chop.\"\n\nThere was a great rustling in the trees, and the sound of sticks snapping, fast, getting closer.\n\nA boy ran out of the woods, panting, hair thick with twigs, mud covered trainers scratched and scuffed.\n\n\"Sir, sir! There's something in there sir, something big,\" he paused to take breath, sucking in the air deeply, \"I think it wants to eat me!\"\n\nYoung faces paled. Jamie screamed. Timmy suddenly had an urge to use the bog which he was supposed to be digging.\n\n\"Compose yourself child,\" barked Dr Mehmed, rushing over to examine the boy, \"Explain to me as to what occurred. What did you encounter in there?\" \n\n\"It was... it was big,\" said George, tears streaming down his face. \"And fast, very fast.\" He gasped. \"It was chasing after me, it was coming this way.\"\n\n\"Enthralling, most enthralling,\" said Dr Mehmed, large moustache bristling, \"Most ecologists would corroborate my idea that this particular area of woodland is unsuitable for the habitat of large predatory organisms, and yet... Did you observe what was pursuing you, George? \n\n\"No sir. Well, sort of. It had big glowy eyes. They shone at me, all torch like. I wanna go home sir.\"\n\nIt seemed as though this view was shared by most of the group, shuffling nervously in the clearing, in the middle of the forest, deep, dark, ablaze with the dancing shadows of the campfire. What was out there? What did it want?\n\nWhat could it do to them?\n\n\"Nonsense, boys. Utter drivel. You have me in your presence. Thus your protection should be more than sufficient. We shall not be embarking homeward bound. Please, retreat to your tents. Now is the time for sleeping. It aids neural development, you realise.\"\n\nAs the boys shuffled back to their tents, their teacher wearily cast an eye over the dense wall of trees.\n\n...\n\nNothing.\n\n--- \n\n\"Sir? Sir!\"\n\nDr Mehmed groaned, muttering inwardly. Whatever could be the matter at this most unsociable of hours. He reached for his glasses, fumbling the frame onto his nose.\n\n\"What is it? Who's there?\n\nA whimper, then speech.\n\n\"It's me, sir. Timmy. I'm scared sir.\"\n\n\"I must insist that you return to your tent, Timothy. Your fear is no doubt irrational, a manifestation of George's earlier escapa-\"\n\n\"But I can't find my tent in the dark sir,\" whispered Timmy, sticking his head further into Dr Mehmed's spacious abode. \"I think it might not be there anymore. I came over here because your light was turned on.\n\n\"The wick of my candle is undergoing combustion, Timothy, there is no electrical heating of a tungsten filament in the thick of a forest. And I suppose you ought to remain here for the rest of the night.\"\n\n\"Cheers sir,\" said Timmy, clutching his bear as he curled onto the tent floor. \n\n---\n\n\"What was that?\n\n\"Nothing Timothy. You really must stop disturbing my circadian rhythm, if I am to adequately function as your supervising teacher in the daytime.\"\n\nSilence. Then...\n\n\"There it was again. Did you hear it that time sir? Did you?\"\n\nDr Mehmed heaved himself up from his bedroll. He had.\n\n\"Remain absolutely quiet Timothy,\" he muttered. \"This auditory disturbance is highly irregular.\"\n\nOutside the tent, something rustled. Something moved.\n\nThere was a pause.\n\n\"What... what's it doing sir? I really don't like this sir. What is it sir?\"\n\n\"I'm not entirely sure Timothy. But it appears to be moving closer.\"\n\nDr Mehmed reached under his pillow, feeling around until his fingers closed around something. He withdrew it, hefting the heaving metal rod, a baton appropriated from the PE Department.\n\nSlowly, carefully, he stood, bent double, and made his way over to the flaps, clipped together. He raised the baton above his head, pressing a finger to his lips, gesturing to Timmy.\n\nHe placed one hand on a clip, twisting it agonisingly slowly, undoing it.\n\nSomething slammed against the tent.\n\nDr Mehmed hurled himself backward, backpedalling furiously, Timmy screeching horribly in the background mingling with the heavy screams of those in other tents as they awoke to the chaos erupting around their camp.\n\nIt was over as soon as it begun.\n\n---\n\nAs the children huddled into the cars in a blue wash of police sirens, and Dr Mehmed shakily lifted a mug of coffee to his lips, police officers crawled about the clearing.\n\nLittle did they know we walked amongst them that night." ]	2
	[WP]You are transported into your favorite video game and you have to beat it if you die in the game you die in real life	[ "Theif pt 1 (don't own Thief square Enix does) \nI feel cold as my eyes open to a dark and firelit alley cobbled with stone as lamps of electricity light the way. Words not of my own enter my mind as a strangely familiar voice enters me. \"So it seems you've taken my place \"x\", a neophyte the in clothes of a master Thief, tell you what. You finish my story and you come out alive Ok? or so I'm told...\" \n\nI look at the fork in the road, one leading to a certain lords mansion who is away, another leading to the sewers. Seeing my only way to do this right would be to go there, I do so; finding some trinket a taffer must have dropped in the toilet by mistake.", "Being digitized sucks. It hurts as every single quark is frozen, spaghettified, and put back together as code. I passed out from the sheer pain. When I awoke, I was on a sleeping bag on a cluster of rocks. I slowly stood up, still sore from my journey, and looked around at my current surroundings. There was nothing but another floating island I could see in the distance. There was a loud ping from the sky, and a voice shouted out \"you have one life, don't waste it. You have 48 days before your body is completely stuck in this digitized state.\" I screamed into the void \"so if I jump off now and die, I'll reawaken?!\" Another ping,\" No, you would die even sooner.\" I sat down again. I had little time in a game I knew would kick my ass. I checked my inventory for anything that could be useful. I had no weapons, no skills, and no brewery drinks. I told them I should use my new game plus settings, but those eggheads decided I needed to have a fresh slate. I'm getting a head of myself. My name is Amos Barnett, but i also go by the Zephyr. That little nickname was earned by being to first and still fastest to clear Darksouls VR on the hardest difficulty. I'm here because the government wanted to test the safety of the next level of immersion, and decided that a professional gamer would make an excellent lab rat. I got lucky, some other \"lucky\" participants chose games like \"Super Meat boy\" and \"Minecraft\". I choose a game that is fully beatable, but still challanging. \"Bastion\" the Indie darling of the last century. If I remembered correctly, I could be out in about.........40 days based on each level and certain cut scenes. I made my first steps fowards, and the ground rose up to meet me. This experiment did have one bonus. I could take one item, ability, or power up from any medium, and use that ingame. I could have taken grenades, flying cars, and other fanatical relics, but I choose wings. I had always wanted to fly and be a pilot, but that dream died why my legs were crushed in the accident.\n\nI walked forward, and I found myself staring at a hammer. It was large, but I could wield it. I grabbed it and as I continued into a ruined marketplace ready to escape this game.\n\n(First attempt At responding, sorry if awful)", "The woods were silent with the sound of nearby wildlife. Keileigh clasped an amulet between her hands, and held it by the base of the fire pit. A pulsating glow radiated from her palms. The logs started to crackle and blaze. \n\n\n\nAs the flames rose, the darkness stepped deeper into the forest. Three figures stood before those flames, and a small creature beside them. In robotic font, a name floated above each head. \"Keileigh\" was hovering in green. All other names were blue.\n\n\n\nThe shorter woman was labeled Serena Gunhild. She was clad in heavy armor, and had a mace beside her. Darach Perseus was wearing a light outfit of dark fabric. He was adorned with many belts and pockets. Nuzzled against Kaeileigh's leg was an unidentifyable creature of doglike design. The name \"Wander\" floated above his fuzzy ears. Long, pronounced fangs smiled with contentment.\n\n\n\nKeileigh settled onto a log, and put her head on her legs. After just a few weeks, her jeans were already worn. Serena crouched to meet her level. \n\n\n\n\n\"Whats wrong?\" \n\n\n\n\"The strangeness, the familiarity.\" Keileigh lifted her head. \"these are just like the woods in Maine. And I've been here before. I've played this game so many times. I know exactly where we are, but to experience it in real life is totally different.\"\n\n\n\nSerena frowned. \"I wish you would stop calling this a game. You have been chosen by the fire god to fullfill his duty. You must drive off the darkness.\"\n\n\n\n\"I know. I do take it seriously.\" \n\n\n\n\"Too seriously!\" Darach chimed in, banging on a castiron pot. \"Let's make some soup. I'm starving.\" \n\n\n\nHe pulled a potato out of a small sack, and chucked it at Keileigh. \"Potato!\" \n\n\n\nKeileigh failed to catch it, but cracked a smile as it bounced off her knee. \"You friggen goof.\"\n\n\n\nThe potato rolled into the woods, and Wander hurried after it.\n\n\n\nKeileigh pulled out a small dagger from her pocket. \"Pass me the carrots. I'll get started.\"\n\n\n\nA high pitched yelp called out from the distance. \n\n\n\n\"Wander!\" Serena grabbed her mace. \"Keileigh, come. I need your light.\" \n\n\n\nKeileigh lit up her amulet, and ran after Wander, leaving the fire behind. Darach groaned and stood silently for a moment, looking longingly at his half-peeled potato before producing two katars from his belt. \n\n\n\nWander was surrounded by a hoard of goblins. Their skin was grey and wrinkled, but their loin clothes hid their worst bits. One laid dead upon the forest floor until a golden light surrounded him, and he picked himself up again. \n\n\n\n\"There's a Shaman nearby!\" Serena shouted, pummeling one of the wicked beings. \n\n\n\nThey scattered from Wander, and divided their attention toward the new enemies. Keighleigh was shining radiantly, and seemed to draw the most eyes. A fireball came flying toward her. She erected a fireshield, and they clashed with an elegant explosion. \n\n\n\n\"I'll find him!\" said Keighleigh, seeking the source of the fireball.\n\n\n\nKeighleigh didn't have to look long, because he came running toward her, slashing at her with a curved sword, and slicing her across the shoulder. He towered above his minions, was clad in multiple necklaces, and had a faint red glow that signified his resistance to Keighleigh's magic. \n\n\n\nShe grabbed her arm as she stepped backward, and felt hot blood between her fingers. Panicked, she shouted for Wander, who was already on his way to protect her. His fangs glowed green, and ripped into the Shaman's ankle, severing his tendon and poisoning him. The Shaman staggered and fell as the rest of the party came to her aid. Once he succummed to Wander's poison, his minions were easy prey.\n\n\n\nAfter the battle, Serena examined Keighleigh's wound. \"You have no hit point indicator, but I can try to heal you anyway.\" Light streamed from Serena's fingers, but to no effect. \"I'm going to have to wrap it for you, and hope that goddess nature heals you.\"\n\n\n\nKeighleigh returned to her spot on the log, and put her head back on her knees. \"You were right, Serena,\" unnoticed tears filled her eyes. \n\n\n\n\"This is serious.\"" ]	3
	[WP] A house is haunted by spirit that feeds off of fear. The only problem is that the family that lives there keeps finding normal explanations for all of the spirits actions.	[ "\"Look, Bob, I like you, but your haunt quota is just too low. We want you to stick around, but we just can't pass up the offers of the new buried, you know, they have all these ideas of how to knock over chairs and zap open blinds now. If you want to stay on the ground, you have to step it up!\"\n\nI couldn't take it, though. I stood there, head drooping (because, of course, hanging is derogatory), and before long the ghoulish woman left with a heavy sigh. I wasn't going to give up, of course, I just needed to rethink my strategies. Everything you'd think could spook a few people had been expended; silverware mixed up, chairs dragged out from tables, the creakiest doors in the house slowly opened. \n\nBut people today weren't interested in the nuance, they were all caught up in the Paranormal Activity reality where people are dragged into closets or pulled up by their ankles into the rafters. Now, how the hell am I expected to do that? I sit staring for hours waiting for the energy to even lift a sippy cup so maybe even the baby will notice me.\n\nThose tricks, though, had been halted nearly a year ago--I had put myself into a spook drought so I could use all that pent-up energy for a real spectacle, something to really make them run out screaming like the movies. You could say Toby was an idol of mine, fictional or not. It was my time to scare the nanny or have the dog bark at a corner, and it was that time today.\n\nI appeared back in the living room of their humble abode, seeing they had gone off to the park as they always do on Tuesdays. Lately, it's become even more difficult to not fiddle with the lights, but I knew what I released any energy on would become a whirlwind in seconds--I had to stay strong for just a few more moments in time.\n\nAnd then, as I jerked back my ghostly tendrils from a light bulb waiting to burst, the door flew open as the family of four (with their teacup chihuahua that barked at everything so often that it was impossible to tell if it noticed me) settled back in to what they thought was the safety of their home.\n\nI took a moment to breathe in, unnecessarily of course but for the drama of it all, and rose both arms; one towards the flatscreen and the other reaching further for the chandelier. It was only a second before the TV shrieked, a scar spewing out shattered glass as it tumbled forward onto the floor, the lights on the chandelier surging with bright light, until one by one the bulbs burst, surprising even me when it came crashing to the floor.\n\nOf course, there was a moment of awe--but then came the screams! Aha, how I had longed for this moment, but soon after my fingertips came to the end of the energy, I realized the house had begun to shake, in fact the cars outside had begun to sing in a chorus of alarms, and before long the family was rushing into the bathroom. A phone left behind buzzed, the screen showing\n\nEmergency Broadcast System: This is not a drill, major earthquake along San Andreas fault line. Please remain indoors and within sturdy establishments." ]	1
	[WP] " You feel it, don't you? The hatred, the rage? Embrace it. It will make you strong. They will know your name, and you will become what the monsters fear. You are fury. You are vengeance, and you will annihilate everything that gets in your way. "	[ "I was born to end lives. With just a simple swipe of my hand, entire cities were destroyed, whole populations were completely obliterated. \n\nIn the beginning, I was a monster born and bred for one purpose: destruction. \n\nHatred was my strength.\n\nRage, my power. \n\nAnd soon enough, my master's, my Father's vision became mine. His quest for revenge against his enemies had become my drive, my goal, my very reason for drawing breath.\n\n\nAny and all who stood between my master's path and mine as well as my objective? It'd been destroyed utterly. \n\nIt was all so easy: the killing, allowing the power to follow through me and harnessing the rage, effectively guiding me, reminding me of my objective: to destroy anyone who stood between me and my enemy, Marik. \n\nI feel it now, I feel it calling me. The hunger, the never-ending thirst to prove myself and the insatiable hunger to destroy any and all an enemy with naught but my hands and the power that lies in wait. \n\nThe rage gives me focus to keep going when everything else around me, within me crumbles and fails, falling into dust. My Father told me that the rage and hate will be my strengths and best friends and that I could trust them to know what to do when everything else failed as a Catalyst. \n\nIt is so easy: finding my motivation and a new victim. I've enjoyed seeing the frightening terror glazed in their eyes. I feed off of it. I crave it. It always adds itself to the burning darkness that lingers within and with each kill, my fury adds itself to the power and as I get stronger, I become consumed. \n\nI am Destruction.\n\nI am the Cursed.\n\nI am the Damned.\n\nI am Darkness.\n\nI am Evil.\n\nI am Fury.\n\nI am Vengeance.\n\nI'm the monster.\n\nI'm the nightmare that lingers in your mind long after you've awoken.\n\nI'm the creature that spawned a 1000 others and thus became Legion.\n\nI'm the Unconquerable, the unslayable, the unvanquishable, the undefeatable.\n\nI'm Fear: the very monster underneath your bed, your worst fears realized, your inner demon that haunts you. \n\nMy name is Sarrek Williams and the monster unleashed.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWas that a good one? Cuz this prompt's awesome, man!", "I clenched my fists, heat welled up in my chest to my head. Tears streamed down my face. I wanted to be more, I wanted to resist him, I wouldn't be like him. But his words reverberated through my mind, my soul. I couldn't hold my muscles back any longer. At first was a thief, I could see everything in him. War is about desires, he wanted more than her money. I smashed his face against the wall repeatedly, hot tears streaking down my face. It was my nature. She watched in horror as I tore off his arm, pummeling him with it until he stopped twitching. I didn't want her to suffer, so I turned her around, wrapping my fingers around the base of her skull, and crushing her hind brain. \n\nNext was traffic, they shouted at each other to move, angry fools all feeling they deserved to move any faster, they'd kill for a few less seconds in the road. I punched one in the jaw and grabbed the front left tire. I flipped the car over into the one behind it, an SUV. I could hear the child scream, I tore open the door and pulled him out of the metal carnage. He laid there cradled in my arms, I wanted to hum him to sleep, but there was only one way to stop his crying. With every innocent soul I released, I felt my own shatter in pain. My father's horse trotted up to me, it was time. The beautiful red Cleidsdale was a large beast, no smaller horse could support me. I mounted the horse with regret and rode to meet the other three, destroying all in my path, leaving behind me only War.", "\"And what becomes of me?\" I asked, already feeling the raw fury powering through my veins. \"What of me, of my being, of my soul? Shit, I'm not going to be like the movies am I? With the horns and wings and stuff? Although the ability to fly is a plus.\" I added as an afterthought. He chuckled,a light laugh that I never thought could sound so sinister. \n\n\"Well, let's be honest, there's not much left that isn't corrupt, is there? You lie, you cheat, you steal, you do what you have to in order to survive. This rage and hatred, sure, it's new for you. I can see that. It's all over your pretty little face.\" He replied, putting a hand gently under my chin and tilting my head up to look at him. The eyes behind the red mask showed no emotion, the smile at the bottom of it screamed danger. Still I stood there, as he took my hand, and placed one of his weapons of choice in my grasp.\n\n\"It's not right...\" I managed, although I knew there wasn't much resistance left. He seemed to sense it too, as he turned me towards where my foe lay on the floor. I knew the look in his eyes, it had been one I'd shared many a time, before He found me. Beaten down time and time again until he showed me there was another way. A more...violent way. It got the job done, and had me come out on top time and time again, despite my niggling doubts that it wasn't a good idea to act like this. A few footsteps sounded in my ear, and the swish of a leather trench coat told me he had been joined by his brother. Who, from many, many accounts, was a thousand times worse.\n\n\"You're still fighting your morality,\" said his brother as people around screamed and cheered alternately. \"You just need to, how did Elsa put it? That's right...Let it go.\"\n\nIt was like his words were the final switch, the final lever pushed down that let the rage and fury take over. I could feel it flowing ever faster in to my heart, and with a snarl, I raised the steel chair up high, and brought it crashing down on my opponents back one, twice, three times. The ring floor rattled, the ropes shook. The crowds yelled and screamed for John Cena to get up from the floor as I dealt him the merciless beat down. A hand on my shoulder signaled to stop for now, the message was clear. Kane and The Undertaker had a new friend. And she was prepared to do whatever they needed her to.", "The air was sparking around him, the energy releasing from his hands burning hot in his glowing white palms. He smiled, his veins boiling and rushing throughout his body, pushing towards his fingertips. He could feel it in his eyes, pulsating, he had seen it before, he knew his eyes had changed colour. He glanced down quickly, his feet raised off the ground by a few inches, and he raised his hand, turning it outwards towards the small target in front of him. \n\nThe air knocked out of him as he landed on the dirt, the power he had felt moments before fading out of his blood quicker than it had come to him. He pushed himself angrily off the ground, biting the inside of his lip, and brushed himself off. His jeans were covered in dust, and another stain had added itself to his shirt. He walked up to his target, a Coke can, and threw it across the small clearing. The trees leant down towards him, creating an ominous opening pouring down sunlight onto his small camp set up. \n\nHe sat himself down beside his target build and curled up, his arms tucking around his knees. He had nothing. No family, no home. They had taken everything from him, too long ago. He felt the rage build up in his throat, wanting to be let out, but he didn't want to take that chance to be heard. He muttered quietly to himself, angrily. He racked his head for answers, trying to understand why he wanted to fight this battle. There was no gain, only death. Maybe a free life for once. \n\nHis fists clenched into balls as he reminded himself of his brother, the same man who is currently tasked with hunting him and anybody close to him. His eyes shot to the tent on his left, a two-man contraption that kept him and his supplies out of the rain and wind. It was moving slightly, and he watched unsurprisingly as it unzipped, a young man, about a year or two younger than him, exited. \n\n\"Hey, Quinn,\" he said reluctantly. He hated people watching him while he was upset. Today, he felt loose, uncontrollable. He was angry. \n\n\"Hey, Zion.\" Quinn replied, stretching. Quinn was born blind in one eye, but had proven to him that it meant nothing to himself or his powers. It was amazing to watch Quinn in action. \n\nZion kept his sight forward, boiling in his own rage. Now that Quinn was awake, Zion had things to do. He had to wake Cali, who was in a tent hidden in the brush, a few hundred feet from the site. He sighed to himself but kept bundled up. The rage was dying inside him, to only be replaced by something darker. \n\n\"You feel it too, don't you?\" Quinn asked, his head raised up to the sky, \"The hatred, the rage? Everything they took from us, and will keep taking from us?\"\n\nHe turned his head away from Quinn, not wanting to answer. \n\n\"You know what I say? Embrace it. It will make you strong.\" \n\nZion chuckled to himself, knowing he had to say something, \"So they will know your name, and you will become what monsters fear.\" \n\nQuinn nodded, then looked off into the distance as if he were trying to remember something, \" 'You are fury. You are vengeance. You will annihilate everything that gets in your way.' \" \n\n\"A bit harsh on the wording there.\" He joked, pushing himself off the ground. \n\nHe watched as his friend shrugged, \"Read it from a book I think.\" \n\n\"You, reading?\" \n\n\"I know, such a surprise.\" \n\nZion smiled, the boiling of his blood cooling slightly, and walked to get the target. He picked it up, the cold metal in his hand gentle on his hot skin. \n\n\"You will get your powers back. You've already developed others.\" Quinn told him, smiling brightly. \n\n\"And you believe that becoming a monster is the answer?\" \n\n\"I believe someone has to be a better monster for the world.\" His friend shrugged, \"But hey, you're the boss.\" \n\nHe smiled sadly, giving a long look at his palm. It was flesh coloured now, no glowing, nothing white hot. He used to be able to control it, push it forward in one direction. Buring hot flames, a spear of deep orange. He cried for the days before. Sometimes for the days before he was a Powered. Sometimes for the days when he never was at all. Quinn and Cali had brought it up, but neither could aid him. He could feel it pushing him, moulding him. This was something he needed to learn alone. \n\n\"Hey, I'm going to go for a quick flight. I'll start some food when I get back.\" Quinn said, placing his hand on Zion's shoulder. A relationship that had begun as a mentorship had easily blossomed into a deep friendship, and Zion was grateful for it. Without his brother by his side, he had felt foreign to himself. He had hopes that Quinn would be able to help him. Somehow. \n\nZion nodded and watched as blue energy formed the outline of pulsating wings behind Quinn. They never had become more than framed wings created out of Quinn's own power, but they were stronger than Zion had ever thought, able to propel the one hundred and fifty pound, sixteen-year-old into the sky with ease. Zion lifted his arm to cover his eyes from the dust cloud blocking his vision as Quinn left the camp. As the dust cleared, he watched his friend rise high in the sky, building speed and altitude with every beat of his wired wings. When he eventually went out of sight, Zion set his gaze on his makeshift target set up. \n\nHe placed the Coke can on the bar and walked to a measurable distance within the clearing. He closed his eyes, letting the rush fill his body again. The more he did this, the more he could feel it. It burning his veins, running through his head, pounding along with his heart. It was raw, uncontrolled, untapped and unrefined. He wondered if Quinn felt this. He wondered if this is what power truly felt like. \n***\n/r/TheArchersWriting\n", "That's what the old man said. Embrace it. I was standing over the body of the first man I'd killed. My hands were bloody and, as I found out later, broken. But the adrenaline and the rage his all that from me. I was starting to shake, coming down off an endorphin high. The original high - I'm alive and the predator is dead. \nThe pile of meat laying there was a child molester. He had kidnapped my niece and I went to find her. When I saw the condition she was in, I felt this ... red haze, I guess come over me. I don't know if you've ever felt this but there is a cold type of anger. Usually a person gets angry and they get hot. Their cheeks get flushed, their pulse quickens, their breathing speeds up. Now if they keep getting worked up, they get hotter and hotter. What most people don't know is that there's a different kind of anger beyond that. It is as pure and clear as ice. This cold anger is a sort of zen calm where you know that as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow, you will have your revenge. That's what happened to me when I saw Tracy. I found that mistake of a human being and I - very calmly, mind you - beat him to death. I made sure I didn't stop until he was absolutely dead. \nThen this old man came around the corner and found us. He told me that thing about being what the monsters fear. I didn't care about any of that right then. I got Tracy out of there and never looked back. But that old man kept showing up here and there. He never came close or said anything. I'd see him across the street or passing by on a bus. \nA couple of weeks later, I saw him across the room when I went out for lunch. I was tired of this crazy bastard stalking me so I got my turkey sandwich and sat down at his table. We had a nice chat. See, he had something similar happen to him only he got addicted to that feeling. Kept chasing that high of killing the 'bad guys'. He was well past his prime and hadn't been 'out hunting' recently, as he put it. He thought i would make a good protege. \nI told him no, of course. Crazy old man shows up at a crime scene after you beat a man to death with your bare hands and he wants to know if you'd like to make it a full time gig? No thank you, I quite like staying out of prison and not inciting mob wars. \nBut a few nights later I see an Amber alert pop up on my phone and I think of Tracy and how many more there are like her. I think maybe I could do some good, ya know? Maybe I could make a difference instead of just pushing papers in a cube. Maybe my own kids deserve to grow up in a world that isn't full of predators. Deep down though. I had to wonder if I was chasing that same high as him. \nAnd I see the old man again the next day. We have lunch together. He tells me he has personally killed 437 people. All of them evil, he assures me. I ask how can he judge a man like that? He says its not hard to judge a man that rapes little girls. He says its not hard to judge a man that beats an old woman to death for thirty-five dollars. He says its not hard to judge a woman that shoots a mother of two over a parking space. He says that's it's not even judgement - it's just math at that point. Is the world better off with these people or without?\nI ask why he doesn't let the authorities handle it. He says nobody's stopping them. He only ever went after people that the authorities didn't. I ask how he's sure they did it. He says he watched them. I ask why he didn't stop them. He says he's old and even when he wasn't, he can't be everywhere at once. We talk for over two hours and my boss chews me out when I get back. \nThe old man gave me address to meet him at tonight. Says that he's got a special case that would be perfect for me. " ]	5
	[WP] United states decides to have competition between democrats and Republicans over 16 years. Split 25 states and see who overall does better.	[ "Joe and Jim-Bob sat in their favorite seedy bar, Viva La Alamo, watching their favorite channel, the NFL Network, while waiting for their \"official\" workweek to end. On the front of the door listed a \"Guns Welcome. Assholes Ain't\" sign, next to a pink neon pair of entwined Mars symbols.\n\nYou see, hardworking Texan conservatives they may be, but ever since the Democrats took over the southern most 25 states, their workweek had been changed to much more manageable 40 hour work weeks for the same amount of pay, split over 4 days instead of 12 hours of rotating shift work at their local Caterpillar plant. Neither Joe nor Jim-Bob had decided to tell their wives this. Oh no, one thing the government couldn't change was the nagging they'd get when they staggered back home after driving drunk, reeking of marijuana and clutching their ticket to their free counseling session payable by the National Texan Health Services Association.\n\n\"Man,\" Joe said. \"Life sure got better for us since the fuckin' liberals took over.\"\n\n\"Right,\" Jim-Bob said. \"We knew we'd be better as our own country, anyways.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are a villain who was really the good guy the entire time,though after it being pointed out,you realize you could have announced your intentions more tactfully.	[ "The cell was cold, and the walls felt like a pocked marked face of a teenage boy. I remember telling them that I just saved the world, and the heat of the fist on my face as he told me to shit the fuck up. \n\nWhen somebody tells you that you can't do something, no matter what, it always feels like they don't know how important it is that the president die, but then again, they never feel the same way when I saved the world from a nuclear holocaust. \n\nI blew up the white house, I personally cleared out all of congress, downed every government plane carrying any senator, congressmen, mayor, governor, and every member of the president's cabinet. \n\nThe thanks I get is a jail cell, 3 meals a day, some some random jerk off telling me that my face looks bruised after he beat me so hard i could taste the iron in my mouth. \n\nthen again, when I was 18, who would have thought that my daughter would have started all of this...." ]	1
	[WP] You are a supervillain with no superpowers, but all the other villains fear and respect you.	[ "So I'm a supervillain. Well, not really, on either parts of that word. I guess I'm a villain in that I do \"bad\" things but it's not my fault that people get hurt sometimes. It's the other guys in the society, really. They're the ones with powers. As an ordinary human, it's really bizarre to be in a supervillain club.\n\n\nYou really have to be a weirdo to be here. We've got Bolt, who, as the name describes, is a guy that attaches things to other things. And then there's Wrecks, he has robotic arms, because he was born with abnormally short arms. I wouldn't bring it up around him. The stubby arms aren't the only reason we named him after a dinosaur: he's pea brained too. Greenish Goblin used to be a brilliant scientist until an accident at the Crayola factory, now he has a waxy armor and the ability to make and absorb the color \"greenish\". Funny story, he used to call himself the \"green goblin\" since all greens are green but he got a cease-and-desist letter from Disney, and you don't want to mess with them. There's a guy that can make antibiotic resistant bacteria show; he calls himself Crystal Violet. He gets really pissed off when people correct him.\n\n\nThere's also some badasses too. Like over the top bullshit BAD ASSES. How bullshit? Well, there's this lady that calls herself Fortuna, and she has incredibly bad luck. She's been a walking disaster zone since she was a kid. And when I say disaster zone, I mean freak lightning storms, sudden meteorite showers, and surprise apocalypses. If there's one thing you can count on with her, it's the unexpected universe-shitting-all-over-life. May seem lame but being in the shit has made her very tough and very capable; put this way, she's the only person I've ever seen to pull the pins out of grenades with just one hand.\n\n\nBut for some reason they're all afraid of me. \n\n\nMight be because I do their taxes.\n\n\n\n----\nSo sorry, had to cut this dramatically short. Fell asleep and now I can't remember where I was going with it except Shawshank.", "You know, I never pictured myself a cruel person, I just do what is just in this world. I stripped those damn lower level villains, of which whom had no vision for their powers, of their humanity by, gentle, persuasion, now they shall do as what I command without question nor resistance. I will do what is right in my vision, be it by my standards, for I am as arrogant as those above me in ability. I killed the people's god by showing him as nothing more than a man with abilities outside of the common. Then once weakened, I slit his neck with the stone from him home planet decorated that as the women of whom he loved dearly. I killed the knight of the people by eliminating him with a simple drink that poisoned him without dealing with him bearing that arrogant disguise he puts upon himself to appear above the law. I shall kill both demons and gods if they act so poorly and in such poor taste. I don't believe in redemption if any man or being choosing to act in a way that would allow harm come to the rest of us that are not so lucky to be blessed. Every being that chooses to act high and mighty, those within my domain to control that is, are but pawns for me. I will do everything in my power, to assure our protection. If you, one in great power or of that of great intelligence, let me assure you of this. And if comply, you will not be the next man to perish. Never harm a soul that is beneath you. Never let bloodshed come through negligence. Never assume that I will let any death go unpaid. I shall not confront you as equals, you, blessed with abilities far greater than that of my own, are truly greater. I shall fight you as a man, I will let my words and action be that which kills you. Your death, will not be a grand one. Your death, will not be one of great sorrow or pain either. Your death will be but a promise that will come in due time. Here is my promise, be good and don't harm another soul. And if not....you are simply the next one to pass.\n", "She sat at her desk, phone in hand. The person on the other end hadn't picked up yet; perhaps they wouldn't. Perhaps they wouldn't acknowledge the call at all. That was unlikely, though; they were too smart for that. But still foolish enough to think they could defeat her.\n\nOne final ring, and a click. \"Hello, you have reached the answering machine of Professor Zmitri Boylavé. Leave a message at the tone, and I will return your call as soon as there is time.\" They always were a bad liar.\n\n\"Doctor Malevolent. I know it's you, I know you're listening, and I know you know why I am calling. I notice that your creativity with names has improved; perhaps if it had done so earlier, the League of Villainy would have responded better to your request for --\"\n\n\"YOU CANNOT LECTURE ME ON MY CHOICE OF NAMES WHEN YOU CHOOSE THINGS LIKE \"THE LEAGUE OF VILLAINY\". IF YOU UNDERSTOOD HOW MUCH I --\"\n\n\"-- am behind on your payments? You know that they're not optional. We've been over this before, and I think I've been very forgiving. Too forgiving, perhaps. I know you have the money; I even know what you're doing with it. And I know that your research into remote intricate electrochemical manipulation will end just like it did the first time someone tried it.\"\n\n\"Listen, I'm not gonna give you another penny. I know it doesn't actually make a difference. I have been captured, convicted, and caged far too often for your \"reduced risk\" and \"long-term view\" to hold any merit with me. I am going independent. I do not need you anymore; I don't think I ever did. And next time we talk, if you still have a leg to stand on, it will be because I will have found your pathetic attempts to stop me amusing. You can do nothing yourself. The Heroic Agency is not willing to go far enough to stop me. And once I reveal what you have done, they will have too much on your hands to worry about yet another attempt at global domination from the \"Grad&#8209;school graduate with delusions of grandeur\". I have had enough for a very long time, and am finally ready to do something about it.\" With a final click, the conversation came to an abrupt close.\n\nShe sighed, and sat back in her desk. She hoped it wouldn't turn out this way; they had so much potential. But after a speech like that, not even she could change their mind.\n\nShe reached again for the phone, and dialed a different number this time. He picked up before the first ring.\n\n\"Captain Stupendous? I have some bad news. Our intelligence tells us that Doctor Malevolent is up to something big, and I don't think they're going to come quietly like the last few times. They've gone completely off the deep end, spouting nonsense conspiracy theories and pursuing research that could never end well. Even if securely contained, they would be able to wreak havoc from afar. With a heavy heart, I command you to use as much force as necessary to prevent the loss of innocent life.\"", "I wasn't always a supervillain. It was when I was twelve that I became a supervillain, respected and feared by other villains. And for what reason? Let me tell you...\n\nI was formerly the child of two big heroes who were powerful and strong and all that. The villains came together, though they usually fought, just to defeat and kill my parents. It was when they were down to me, my face all messy and wet with tears and snot that they began to argue.\n\n\"I want to be the one to kill their son! You already got to kill the flying lady, I want to be the one to kill the kid,\" said one villain with a shape shifting ability. \n\nUGH HE LOOKED DISGUSTING...\n\n\"No way, I'll kill him, and you can't tell me otherwise! I'm stronger than you so fuck off!\" said the other who was wearing a tight suit. Shape shifter guy grabbed suit guy and they were about to fight until I spoke up.\n\n\"H-hey! Listen here! What's the point in killing someone with no powers like me? If you really wanna prove your strength then let me be the judge of who's stronger?\" I yelled, and I didn't even know what I was thinking. The two villains looked at me for a second and I was sure I was going to die, but then soon the two started to fight. In the end, tight suit was on the ground, and the shape shifter looked to me.\n\n\"I'm the stronger one then, aren't I?\"\n\nAnd with that I became the judge of the villains' strength. They robbed banks for me, they were my body guards. I led them and I no one messed with me. Whoever went against me was killed by the villains and I lived in luxury, just as I had before. For two years. I'd watch their fights. For two years...\n\nBut for what? What would happen next?\n\nMy parents were dead. The evil scientists were all finding a way to give me powers artificially, make me the strongest. I got more and more money but what of it? I was pretty much ruling over all the villains, since the ones who didn't like me were taken out. Even the heroes were trying to kill me, people my parents knew, that I saw at parties and played with me when I was a little kid. If I ever got powers I'd have to fight them like all the other villains did. I didn't want that kind of thing!\n\nI had no powers. I was weak. And one false move, I was dead...", "“Get her out of here.” The voice came from the far end of the table.\n\n“Excuse me?” I looked up, my eyebrow furrowing slightly as I tried to pinpoint who exactly had spoken out of turn. Several of the others in the group quickly averted their gaze, while yet others had blank looks on their faces, clearly unaware of the implications of this statement.\n\n“I said we should get her out of here.” The statement had come from a young boy, probably no more than twenty years of age. He was garbed in an atrociously garish costume with an exclamation point motif, likely fastened mere days ago if the loose threads on the seams were any indication. “If we’re going to pull off this job, we need people with serious power. Why would we allow a nat on our team?”\n\nMy lips pursed as I took a black pen from my pocket and began to take notes on the meeting agenda. “You seem have a failure to understand the nuances of how this circle function.” I stated. “Let me make a few guesses. As I have never seen you attend a meeting before, I would guess you only recently became empowered and are looking to prove yourself. To do that, you decided to plunge headfirst into the local criminal underworld and attempt to throw your weight around at what seems to be the weakest individual you see, much like a schoolboy joining a bigger playground.”\n\nThe man let out a snort and I continued, pointing the tip of my pen at him insistently, “However you clearly failed to do any research regarding the playing field. If you had, you would have found that my influence covers eighty percent of the state, I have a very low tolerance for disrespect from others…”\n\n“…And I have a distinct fondness for acid.”\n\nThere was a popping noise as the tip of my pen burst, green liquid spraying through the air. In the span of moments, howls of pain could be heard from the man as the other attendees scrambled for cover and I laughed and laughed and laughed.\n", "\"MISTER GOVERNOR!\"\n\nThe little man at the desk stared with irritation at the remaining splinters of his office door.\n\n\"Do you need something, Ultimus Brutus?\"\n\n\"DAMN RIGHT I DO! I NEED YOU TO CALL OFF THOSE BULLDOZERS BEFORE I TEAR THEM TO SHREDS!\"\n\nOne of the corners of the governor's mouth twisted into a smile. He slightly turned his head to meet the giant man's glowing gaze.\n\n\"And you came all this way just to ask for permission?\"\n\nBrutus's eyes glowed brighter. The governor silently adjusted the tint on his glasses to compensate.\n\n\"If you insult me again I'll laser your desk into sawdust.\" He growled.\n\n\"You seem very hesitant, friend. And I'm afraid your threat doesn't even make sense. 'Sawdust'? With lasers? Perhaps you meant—\"\n\nThe eyes of Ultimus Brutus burned white for just an instant. The governor's hand flicked and a tiny black dart was lodged in the bridge of Brutus's nose. His eyes turned back to red and refused to glow any brighter.\n\nThe giant supervillain grunted with effort, then bellowed, \"NO! WHAT DID YOU DO?\" His voice sounded funny with his nose plugged.\n\n\"You should leave before you get hurt.\"\n\n\"NO!\" He smashed his fist into the office wall behind him. \"THAT IS MY FAMILY'S HOUSE! WE'VE LIVED THERE SINCE THE CITY WAS FOUNDED!\"\n\n\"Brutus, you're irritating me.\"\n\n\"AAAAARGH!\" Brutus yelled before he began to charge. He took one step and fell over convulsing as oversized taser bolts poured electricity into his body. When they stopped the giant was motionless except for the slight rise and fall of his chest.\n\nThe governor whistled and a team of workmen came and carried away the body of Ultimus Brutus. He returned to working on his desktop. The bulldozers would demolish the house and the new laboratory would be built over it. If Brutus was smarter he'd consider himself very wise for not destroying the bulldozers first. There were much worse punishments the governor could inflict." ]	6
	[WP] A gullible superhero misunderstood the phrase "Make love, not war". They attempt to romance villains, to varying degrees of effect.	[ "\"And then he just kissed me, can you believe it?\" \nTarot twisted her long black ponytail in between her fingers while BM counted her cash stacked on the table inbetween them. The pile of which covered the table and flowed on to the floor. They would be stuck here, 'celebrating' aka counting it for at least a couple of hours. Tarot plopped down in a chair and unzipped her knee high black boots, to make herself comfortable for the next few tedious hours. \n\"At least least he brought you flowers before the assault. I told you about that time he just smacked my ass and quoted some archaic phase at me?\" BM pulled down at her corset making enough room so she could pull out a few diamond necklaces hidden between her breasts, and tossed them on the table.\n\"Ugh,\" Tarot moans pressing the first necklace she grabbed against her face. \"you have impeccable taste.\"\nBM raised her eyebrows and stopped adjusting her costume. \"You're rubbing my boob sweat against your face.\" \n\"Ew,\" Tarot dropped the necklaces only to lift it with her telekinesis and place in her part of the score. \"oh speaking of boobs did you hear boobs-magee actually went on a date with our Goodylittle-two-shoes!\"\n\"Oh yeah, and I heard he called the chief of police to their date and got her arrested.\" BM smirked at the thought, then began loosening the corset and tugged her mask off.\n\"Ooooh girl, your make-up looks like a freshly paid porn star. But, um do you think he likes her more then me? I don't think he ever kissed her.\" Tarot grabbed a towel off the Gun-shot wound kit and tossed it to BM, who proceeded to rub her face with it vigorously. \n\"This is still Vixen were talking about?\" BM scoffed as rolled her eyes and tossed the used towel aside. \"The girl whose only redeeming quality is that her tits are the size of my head?\" BM summonsed her shadow apparition who placed a wet cloth around her neck and began summoning shadow spirits to tidy the place up for the normal post heist celebration. \n\"I guess you're right,\" Tarot stated as she caught a tossed champagne bottle from one of the shadow spirits.\n\"Hey BM,\" Tarot spoke up as she uncorked the bottle with her powers, \" you think we can do this forever?\"\nBM smiled, \"With that idiot as this city's only hope? Yeah.\" \nTarot sighed dramatically and took a swig of the bottle before passing it to her partner. \"He may be dumb but I'd still ride him off into the sunset.... Make love not war, remember?\" ", "I should have known better. Honestly, after working with the guy for the past 5 years you'd think I would have known just how gullible he was. \n\nI mean, I did know and I've always known. Every time he's gone and started something was because of some off the cuff comment I'd made, usually after I'd had one too many. There was the one time I had told him that punching the moon would make the toilet flush in the opposite direction. I didn't think he'd actually punch the fuckin' moon!\n \nIn my defense he's the one who usually brings me the good stuff. I can't turn down some top of the line stuff, it would be rude! This latest goof though, you can't blame me. Not completely anyways. All I did was give him some advice, albeit after a couple dozen cold ones. He was worried about all the fighting he had been doing recently. Honestly, he was fighting quite a bit. They seemed to be crawling out the woodworks. But me, I had been watching some hippy documentary at the time so I couldn't really be bothered to pay him much attention. I just blurted out the first thing I could think of. \n\n\"Make love, not war, dude!\" \n\nThen I passed out. Next thing you know I'm waking up in here hearing about the stupid shit he'd done this time. Honestly, why is he so damned gullible? It's not my fault he took my drunken quote seriously. Did he really think his attempt at making peace with them would go over well? God, that guy needs some help. Honestly. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nINTERVIEW NOTES:\n\nSubject still seems inebriated. Still speaking in the third person. Claims all that they have ever done was give advice to \"him.\" Subject claims to have no memory of the events of the past 48 hours.\n\n\n\n\nEMERGENCY MESSAGE:\n\nRestraints have failed. Initiate protocol \"Somnus\"", "\"Hey!\" She's holding up a bank teller by her throat. Clearly up to no good.\n\n\"I...Is that really the best superhero costume you could come up with? Am I being pranked or something?\" I'll admit, she has a thing going with the leather and the metal plates, but come on! Spandex is timeless!\n\n\"You'll get a lot worse if you don't put that man down.\" Yeah, killin' it with the hero lines today.\n\n\"Yeah, a lot worse from Captain Boobsweat here.\" She shakes her head. \"Look, go home before I have to break that pretty body of yours. Go model or something, you're a waste of taxes.\"\n\nThe world turns a little, and I have the poor bank teller in my arms and not in her grasp. The gawping on her face makes me smile. The nausea twisting my stomach makes me hurl all over him. Whoops. Black sparkles dance in my eyes, and then I'm on the floor. I'm wheezing, trying to shove air into my lungs. It feels like I've been hit in the gut with a laser bat.\n\n\"Look, what did I tell you? Go home.\" She shakes her head down at me and tuts. *Rude.\n\nI turn the world again, and she collapses on the floor. Pain shared is pain halved. Before I can get to my feet, static sings through my face as my head recoils from her foot. A smile cuts through the blood on my face when I hear her collapse to the floor.\n\n\"What...\" she gasps, \"did you do to me?\"\n\n\"Pain shared is pain halved.\" Hero lines. I am killing* it.\n\nBefore my head can clear, her hands are around my throat. I can't breathe again. The black sparkles return, crowding in from the sides of my eyes. All I can see is the fury on her face--how can she see when her eyes are made of fire?\n\n\"Last words?\" Her hands ease up just enough to let me speak. I can't muster the force to make the world turn again; too busy trying to breathe. What can I say? What on earth can I say?\n\n\"Make love, not war.\"\n\n\"What.\" For once, I agree with her. Why did that come out of my mouth? But she's stunned, struggling to parse that. I got my in, now let's complete the 1-2 and knock her out.\n\n\"Wanna go out with me?\"\n\nShe stares at me like a dog struggling to understand the concept of glass. Her hands slacken--she's reeling! Gotta finish her off!\n\n\"Pick you up here at seven?\"\n\n\"Yeah, sure...\" She falls off me, her mind in a daze, and I scarper away, panting and wheezing all the way to my apartment.\n\n-----\n\nI flit around town for a bit, top down, wind in my hair, hoping I can get rid of the butterflies in my stomach if I drive fast enough. It doesn't help. Instead, all it does is make me fifteen minutes late. The soft whir of the engine winds down as it saps energy from the wheels, bringing me to a gentle stop in front of the bank, which now has more yellow tape in front of it than glass in its windows.\n\n\"You actually came.\" Oh dear. She's in a little black dress. And she's gorgeous. help.\n\nOk, ok, just play it cool. \"I didn't think you'd show up either,\" Alright, so far so good, \"beautiful.\" Abort abort abort.\n\nInstead of leaping over and crushing my head into paste, she meanders over to the car and opens the door with a blush on her face. \"You ain't lookin' too bad your--\" her jaw drops when she finally does get a look at me, slinky blue dress glittering in the headlights of passing cars. \"Damn, could that neckline go any lower?\"\n\n\"When you've got as much cleavage as I do, you wanna show it off.\" Yeah, confidence. I got this. No need to throw up again. Come on, lunch, stay with me, you can do this. \"You like Sicilian? There's this place down the street, I know the owner, saved him when his house burnt down...\"\n\nShe's mulling it over. Oh god, she doesn't like Sicilian, she hates Sicily, she's--\"Where's this guy from.\"\n\n\"Uh, Palermo, I think?\"\n\n\"Ayyy! My hometown! This guy better deliver or I'm burning his house down.\" There's a big fat grin on her face, though, and she's bouncing up and down in her seat. She's actually really cute when she's not trying to murder me.\n\nA quick bit of driving later, and we're walking up to Gianluca's.\n\n\"Ayyyy!\" Gianluca bursts through the door and just about tackles me to the ground. \"Araceli! Where you been!\" As always, he pronounces my name like it's Italian.\n\n\"Been trying--\" wheeze \"--to catch my breath after the last time you hugged me!\"\n\n\"You need to get in shape! Shouldn't take that long to catch your breath, what, you obeying the speed limit again? Come, come.\" He dashes off inside, through the crowded floor of the restaurant. \"You ladies get the best seat in the house.\" A mad dash through a clattering stairway later, and we're on the roof, a warm summer breeze rifling through our hair. \"Hey,\" Gianluca glares at my date, \"you hurt her? Last thing you do. Got me?\"\n\nShe nods, expression unreadable in the moonlight. This could go real bad real--\"Sei davvero da Palermo?\"\n\nThey burst into a flurry of Italian that flies right over my head. Or is it Sicilian? Is there a difference? Probably. It ends with Gianluca putting a hand on my shoulder, a big grin on his face.\n\n\"This one's alright. Now, sit. I'll bring you food.\" I pause, only for Gianluca to start shoving me in the direction of the recliners on the roof. \"I said sit!\"\n\nShe giggles and plops herself in the other recliner, watching with glee as Gianluca manhandles me into my chair.\n\n\"Now, Araceli, Massima, enjoy yourselves.\"\n\nBefore either of us can get a word out, a big bowl of something is slid onto the table.\n\n\"Is this caponata?\" Massima pulls her phone out and shines a light on it. \"It is.\" I swear her face gets brighter than the flashlight on her phone. \"So my dad, right,\" she says through mouthfuls of the stuff, \"couldn't get me to eat any of this when I was little. He'd always plead, 'Massima, Massima! Mangia, Mangia!' while my mom sat back and laughed. She told him no child would eat the stuff he made.\" She pauses to scarf down her food. \"He could never make his food look pretty. No matter how it tasted, my dad's food always looked awful.\"\n\nI almost snort my mouthful out through my nose. \"Hey, better than my parents. Never cooked a day in their lives. Pray it was a kid's turn to make supper or you'd be having TV dinners to eat.\"\n\n\"Hm. That's kind of sad.\"\n\nI look down at the table to get me more food, but it's already gone. \"Heh. I guess it is. But they worked themselves to the bone for us.\"\n\n\"Speaking of work, how goes the hero business?\" While I'm trying to process the gear shift, the empty bowl of caponata is replaced with a big bowl of pasta.\n\n\"I-huh? Oh, the heroing. Today was my first day at it.\" I reach for the bowl, only for Massima to beat me to it and start serving it up.\n\n\"You gotta get a better costume. Maybe some armor, protect your face?\" She swirls her hand over her face before stabbing some pasta onto her fork. \"I wonder what happened to the sou--\" she freezes when her pasta hits her tongue, eyes wide, tears starting to run down her face.\n\n\"Massima?\"\n\n\"My god...it's just like my mom used to make. I thought I had forgotten what her cooking tasted like...\" Waterfalls stream from her eyes as she shovels the pasta into her mouth, only stopping when her plate is empty to get some more.\n\n\"Hey, hey! Massima! Stop! ¡Basta!\"\n\nShe freezes, half a piece of pasta sticking out of her mouth. \"You're gonna make yourself sick, stoppat!\" She slurps the last piece into her mouth, leaving sauce all over her face. \"Oh, dammit, come here.\" I start scrubbing the sauce off her face. \"Jesus, you eat like my dad. He only ate so much because half of it landed on the floor.\"\n\n\"I inherited it from my mom.\" At last, her face is clean again. \"Hey, do you smell smoke?\"\n\nI turn my head to see a building three blocks down burst into flame. \"I think we might have to postpone date night.\" I look back to her. \"Wanna help me with my hero business?\"\n\n\"...Yeah. Sounds like fun.\"\n\n\n\nThat, kids, is how I met your mother.", "I wrinkled my nose and caught her fragrance on the wind. \"Clothing system activate!\" I screeched. \n\nMy cupboard doors whizzed to life, sliding open to reveal my superhero accessories. I changed into my tan spandex faster than you can say Sniffman and zipped out of the window.\n\nOnly to remember the new Dolce and Gabbana I had got her. I zipped back into my room, wrapped the gift, placed it in a colorful carry bag, printed a card off of google. And then burst into the sky, flying toward the sweet scent on the wind. \n\nShe was ordering food in a downtown cafe when I found her. \n\nAnd for whatever reason, she decided to complete the exchange with a gun. She was misunderstood, maybe angry at the world, but anyone that chose such a delightful perfume was worth saving. \n\nI snatched a few leaves from the tree outside and shoved them in my mouth like they do in the romance movies. And as I slid through the doors and across the smooth cafe floor, there was one thing running through my mind - besides the screaming hostages - make love, not war.\n\nDuchess spun toward me, gun levelled at my chest. \"Oh god, Sniffman, again?\"\n\n\"mayiejfioa alskdaoas da ada ae?\" I spat the leaves from my mouth and repeated myself. \"My Duchess, a rose amongst a field of lilies, freshener of my passion. Sit with me.\" \n\n\"I told you not to come near me,\" she said, the gun in her hand shaking. \n\nHer trembling was expected. Any woman in the presence of a man such as myself would quiver with excitement. \n\n\"I've brought you a gift, Duchess.\" I held up the perfume, and before she knew it I had unboxed the fragrance and was applying it to her delicate wrist. \n\nDuchess fired the revolver in her hand. The bullet cracked against the ceiling. And I had jumped back, my hands above my head. \"I'm sorry my love, I didn't mean to startle you.\" \n\n\"What the heck did you put on my wrist, you freak,\" she said. \n\n\"It is a gift of love, designed specifically for you,\" I replied, \"it compliments the fragrance you wear. Accentuates it.\" \n\nShe sniffed at the perfume and then looked up, puzzled. \"It actually smells kind of goo-\"\n\nDuchess hit the floor before she could finish the sentence. I turned to the hostages and bowed. \"I will escort the beautiful lady to her cell, please, you are all free to go.\" \n\n\"Wh- what did you do to her?\" A man asked. \n\nI smiled, the thought of my concentrated trichloromethane recipe passing through my mind. \"Just a potent dose of love my friend, nothing less and nothing more.\" ", "\"Haven't you ever heard the phrase- make love not war? If you all just grew to love each other we wouldn't have to rebuild skyscrapers every year or carry superhero insurance on our buildings and cars. Rates have gone through the roof man, can't you all fight in the countryside?\" The man in the audience tipped his straw hat down when he finished speaking. Captain Strength nodded and took a moment to think about it.\n\n\"I tell you what...I think I can make that work, but...no judgement. I'm serious, you all can keep your buildings but...don't judge me.\" Captain Strength flew off, unwilling to take more questions, he had a lot to think about. \n\nWeeks passed with no major crime, Captain Strength barely had to wear a costume. He could just stop the crooks stealing purses at a regular speed, a mild walk for him. He flew to and from work of course but being an accountant, he could hide his comings and goings as he wished, that's what the smoker's roof was for. \n\nHis first flex friday in weeks left him sitting at home reading the latest release from the PCAOB. A siren, far off in the distance caught his attention, he heard teh cackling of Mr.Tan, an evil scientist turned work-out beefcake.\n\nCaptain Strength donned his costume and flew out the porch of his apartment- time to test the new theory, but first he'd need to make a pitstop. \n\nMr.Tan was, of course, on the beach with his large weight sled and his massive aerosol gun full of spray on tanner. \"Ah, Captain Strength, the only man stronger than me. Don't worry yourself, I'm just making these beach goers prettier than ever...Ha...hahahahha,\" Mr.Tan sprayed a large cloud of the orange skin contaminant like a flame thrower. It only landed in the sand but the threat had been made.\n\nCaptain Strength smirked, flying up to Mr.Tan. From behind his back, Captain Strength pulled out his newest tool, a bouquet of flowers. \"Mr. Tan, I know how hard you work on your body...it's beautiful, shimmering and smooth. You don't have to do this, people could appreciate you without fear in their hearts or tanning solution in their eyes. Trust me,\" Captain Strength pulled the man close nearly whispering in his ear. \"Come back to my place, we can talk about this in private. I've always found you to be...provocative.\"\n\n\"I...I, really? I've never been, invited anywhere and- it's been so long,\" Mr. Tan ran his fingers along the diamond cut jaw line of Captain Strength. They held hands, as Captain Strength flew them softly back to his apartment, leaving the aersol gun and the flowers on the beach as a symbol of what had happened today.\n\nCaptain Strength woke up the next morning, alone in his bed with nothing but an orange silhouette to remind him of what he'd done. Saturday was peaceful, he woke up and ate on the porch, returned to his kitchen to toss out the scraps of his breakfast. He flicked on the television as he washed his coffee mug. The news had his other persona on, holding the hand of Mr.Tan. The headline read, \"not what we meant Captain Strength, but good job!\"\n\n\"Seriously? Son of a -\" Captain Strength shattered the mug in his hand as he clenched his fist. " ]	5
	[WP] It turns out that all of the junk email sent in the world is solely the work of one person. Tell me their story.	[ "Inside a dank smelling room, a slender creature slinked silently. It was small, scrawny even, hidden in the silouhette of a dirty room illuminated solely by the light of a computer screen. Trash surrounded it as it sipped a 'Valentine's Day' mug filled with flat coca cola. \n\n\"Now, these messages I litter in your inboxes, in the folder that requires scrolling or degrouping to actually see. That... spam folder, fuck it pains to say, is a degenerate mutant mail processing center that has fucked me again, and again\", the creature jumps slightly, \"It's the maniacal rantings for money that, now in 2016, have reduced me to this sorry state\"\n\nThe creature, finished speaking, waved at the small apartment it inhabited, like a sales person presenting furniture on a showroom floor. An imaginary applause answered the creature's wave, an affirmation of it's \"sorry\" ... \"state\" (This is how the creature had said it)\n\nOnce rich, this creature lived in a mansion that rivaled that of actual innovators and intellectuals that had manufactured and distributed the internet. However, the prosperous 90s were over, and technology and education had deemed junk mail 99% less effective and profitable. \n\nYears of sending more and more filfth to combat the competitive pressures of time has driven a once opportunistic scam artist into a deep hole of degeneracy and depression. Drug addiction was the final nail in the coffin, and now the creature scraped by on welfare and undocumented pennies it made on the occasional ad referral to some newly minted computer user.\n" ]	1
	[WP]Only one thing stopped the eternal war between angels and demons, they pissed mother nature off.	[ "The war was millennia in the making, we knew when it would begin, what we would have to do, and of course, the end result. The last human had died, his character and his life judged and his soul sent for punishment or paradise. I wasn't sure myself, but with Hell's army so overwhelmingly larger than ours, we could use another warrior. I looked across the heavens to see my fellow holy brothers and sisters preparing themselves hear the sound. We were told it was indescribable, a sound never heard before, and it was only ever referred to as the Bells of War. \n\nI peered through the cloud cover that had become more familiar as a floor to an angel rather than a ceiling as a human, and saw the demons who were already overtaking our battlefield, home to all of us at one time. They demolished buildings, razed forests and fields, slaughtered animals. They were celebrating. They had found the last human and were ready for the war to begin. Oh, they so enjoyed destruction, even if it were their own. We knew the father of darkness himself was there too. Somewhere. Knowing him, he was hiding behind a few of the most evil demons he could muster, the twisted murderers and merciless war criminals. We would find him sooner or later.\n\nSuddenly, but expectedly, a light brighter than even the sun broke through the clouds and shined amazingly over earth, brighter than even a flash of lightning in the darkest night. I gripped the glowing sword I had become familiar with, and knew that this was the beginning.\n\nAnd there He was. Like only He could be. He descended slowly, glowing so brightly that you could not see any physical being, but just knew he was there. Felt it. It was overwhelming, even as an angel. Behind him, 12 smaller but no less incredible lights hovered, lowering with him at a similar, steady speed. It was time.\n\nThe sound rang so loudly that i could feel it vibrate even my bones. It was like a war horn, chorused by chimes and war cries. The clouds gave way, and we began our descent. I was a bit near the back, but as I descended I saw swords and claws clash, fire shoot it's way towards my allies, arrows fall, and.. I stopped. Hovering above the battle, I had the best view of the battlefield. Something was wrong. A low rumble had been happening since even the Bells stopped, and it grew louder now until drowned out even the screams and cries of battle. In this war, we did not expect variables. We knew what was going to happen and what needed to be done. Or so we thought.\n\nAs the Earth itself vibrated and shook, the ground began to give way. It split and pulled apart, swallowing carcasses, trees, buildings, and even warriors. I flew to His side with a few of my brethren, a protective stance. \n\nAnd then, a variable.\n\n\"Prepare yourselves, O holy souls!\"\nThat's all that was said, He had realized it before us. The ravine split farther and farther, until it's ends extended past the horizon. Large, skyscraper sized vines came from the dark abyss of the divide, acting as tentacles. A great kraken of Earth. A loud roar erupted as the ground near the ravine exploded open, and all manner of creature imaginable emerged from its depths, attacking and maiming demon and angel alike. Elephants and even mammoths pounded across the demolished battlefield, stomping and swinging tusks, lions leapt from the caves that sprouted across the land, pouncing on anything in sight. Bears, every kind from grizzly to polar, stood and roared before swiping massive paws at my brethren. Even the failed creations, dinosaurs, hybrids, beasts I had never seen or read about before made their dominance known. The creatures shot or stabbed in reply acted as if they felt no pain, and refused to die. \n\nThe tentacles lashed towards us, I moved quickly out of the way and sheathed my sword. I pulled my bow from my back and fired holy radiating arrows at the creatures, knowing I must protect Him at all costs. \nI questioned in my mind, why would Earth attack the holiest of holies, God of Gods? In an instant, my mind knew the answer. This was how He spoke to us, so it was not unusual.\n\nThey do not see holy or evil. They see war on their land and will fight to take their home just as we are. My poor creations know no better. Put a stop to them at once.\n\nThe war dragged on, countless, immeasurable loss. Souls doomed to nothingness the moment they were struck down. This was Earth's fate. But it wasn't taking it without a fight.\n\nEDIT: Spelling" ]	1
	[WP] You are only able to speak 1000 words over your entire life. No one else knows about your condition. You've rationed carefully for many years, but today ridiculous circumstance has forced you to use more than half of your remaining words.	[ "\"Sir. Do you know why I pulled you over?\"\n\n\".........................\"\n\n\"Sir, I asked you a question\"\n\n\"..................yes.....\"\n\n\"Okay, so you know why I pulled you over?\"\n\n\".........I guess........\"\n\n\"Your left head light is broken\"\n\n\"...........................\"\n\n\"Sir, is there a problem? Or you just having fun with me\"\n\n\"....................\"\n\n\"Are you okay sir?\"\n\n\"..........................\"\n\n\"Please step out of the vehicle\"\n\n\"...............okay.........\"\n\n\"Did you take some drugs?\"\n\n\"............No.........\"\n\n\"Do you have the car's paper and your permit with you?\"\n\n\"............... Yes........\"\n\n\"Sir, this is not funny anymore. Please have some respect in a conversation with a police officer\"\n\n\"...................yeah....sorry about that.......shit!\"\n\n\"Excuse me?!!\"\n\n\"....shit I've talked too much...\"\n\n\"I had enough! you will explain me to now, what the hell is wrong with you\"\n\n\".......................nothing wrong.......\"\n\n\"Oh, really. You're going to the station with me now for drug test\"\n\n\".............stay calm.....stay calm......\"\n\n\"Exactly, you're in a big problem son. You better stay calm\"\n\n\".......problem?!! PROBLEM! Do you think getting arrested in a big problem for me? I had enough! I've had it!\nScrew me and screw everyone else who thinks I am sort of a freak because I don't talk too much.\nHere is the problem : I can only speak 1000 words only in my life...... IN MY WHOLE LIFE! And here i am, waisting all my precious words in a stupid conversation with a cop with a weird moustache in the middle of a Highway while my BOSS is waiting for me at work and he might fire me because he don't like me. And guess what, no one actually LOVE me because they say I am a sort of a weird creepy serial killer who don't speak a word.......Screw you very much sir...now can I go?...\"\n\n\"PUT YOUR HANDS ON THE ROOF!.......... You are really funny boy but let see how funny you will be in custody.....\"\n", "I've led a rather quiet life. That tends to happen when a doctor tells your mom that you have a rare disease that destroys your vocal cords with every word you utter. The doctor estimated I could get about 1000 words out in my lifetime before I couldn't talk anymore. I didn't really care. I was used to it.\n\n\nMost of them just figured I had some phobia of talking to people but accepted me anyways. So I lived a pretty normal life overall, hanging out with friends, watching movies, the usual. Plus, who needed a voice when most people just texted or messaged online? I didn't need a physical voice to still live an enjoyable life.\n\n\nThe issue is, I've always loved music. Maybe it was because I couldn't talk that I was drawn to the melodies and harmonies. It was a way to communicate that everyone could understand. Without uttering even a word. \n\n\nMy friends would often catch me humming. One day, I was humming to myself as I walked my dog, Dexter. I had just stopped to let him sniff out his usual bush when I saw her. \n\n\nShe was standing behind me with a dog of her own. I froze, wondering how long she had been following me for. The trees rustled from a passing breeze and her auburn hair seemed to caress the soft curve of her neck. Her hazel eyes met mine and I saw a slow blush creep up when she realized I saw her.\n\n\n\"Hi..\" Her voice was quiet and shy but it rang clearly in my ears. Even in the one word, I could hear the smile that played on the corners of her lightly upturned lips. My heart skipped a beat and I wondered if my disease was acting up.\n\n\nAn awkward pause followed and saw her small smile falter. I cleared my throat. Just one word was okay. \n\n\"Hi,\" I responded huskily. I winced at the unfamiliar sound of my voice and cleared it again.\n\nThe response was enough for the smile to return. \"Sorry about following you, I really didn't mean to... I was just out walking Nala,\" she nodded to the tan Labrador, \"when I heard you humming.\" \n\n\nI blinked and shrugged. She paused again but seemed to make up her mind. \"I just thought it sounded really good but I didn't recognize the tune. Which is weird since I listen to a lot of music.\" \n\n\nWe both listened to the soft sigh of the summer's wind and Dexter pulled himself over to Nala to get acquainted.\n\n\nEven though I had friends and felt like I was living a decently normal life, I definitely hadn't had a chance to really talk to girls before. It's hard enough trying to flirt as a 16 year old guy, but when you can't talk, it's nearly impossible. \n\n\nSo with a beautiful girl in front of me, I figured I could spare a few more words.\n\n\n\"That's because I wrote it,\" I finally said. \n\n\nHer mouth opened in a surprise and she looked at me with a new light in her eyes. It felt good. \"My name's Milla,\" she reached out a delicate hand.\n\n\nFrom then on, we exchanged numbers and texted daily. Whenever we hung out, she seemed to just accept that I wouldn't really talk. I was thankful for that. \n\n\nSlowly, I began to fall in love with her.\n\n\nTwo years later, we were in a solid relationship. Things were going well and all of my friends liked her too. I knew her friends thought I was a bit weird for not talking, but Milla didn't mind. She would laugh and say her chattery friends filled the air with enough words for us. \n\n\nWe spent long nights watching TV, listening to her favorite oldies and my favorite lyricless pieces, or just silently enjoying each other's company. By then, she had become such a normal part of my life. I never thought it would change. \n\n\nWe went to different colleges but we still made it work. I would visit her whenever I could and since she had earlier classes, I would always wake up to a loving morning text. It was like nothing could keep us apart and I knew that, once we had our lives togeher, I would marry her. \n\n\nOne morning, during our junior year at college, I went to visit her again. The second I entered her small dorm room, I knew something was wrong. \n\n\nShe sat on her futon and I quietly sat next to her in silence. My chest tightened and I wondered what had happened. There was no way she would have cheated on me. I felt myself pale at the thought of one of her classmates forcefully- no. I shook myself. I didn't want to think about it. \n\n\nMy small movement seemed to wake her out of her daze a little. I looked at her and noticed her red rimmed eyes. They looked at me now, as if looking for something to latch onto. \n\n\n\"I have cancer,\" she whispered weakly. \n\n\nMonths passed and I tried to be there as much as I could. She had moved back home, closer to my college, so I could see her more frequently than before. I held her and we did our usual things but it felt different. Heavier. \n\n\nHer smiles came as frequently as before. Until her hair started falling out. From there, the disease seemed to advance at an unexpected pace. \n\n\nSuddenly, I was standing at her hospital bed, looking down at her as the tubes and monitors made the awful hospital noise. \"Honey?\" She whispered. Her eyes flickered and I reached for her hand. They were delicate before, but now, I wondered if even my mere touch would break them.\n\n\n\"Yeah?\" I asked hoarsely.\n\n\n\"You know that song you were humming the first day we met?\"\n\nI nodded. In the year that I realized I had fallen deeply and madly in love with this girl, I had put words to the melody. Milla saw me scribbling them down one day and asked why I was doing it. She knew I didn't like lyrics. I had just shrugged and pushed it under the rug. I thought back to them now. \n\n\n\"Do you... Do you think you could sing it for me?\" She asked, looking guilty.\n\n\nMy heart clenched at the look. After a few months of dating, I had finally told her about my condition. She had been extremely understanding of it and tried to accommodate for my disease wherever she could. Unlike any other girl I knew, Milla was okay with the fact that I didn't call her pet names or say her name at all, usually. She knew I wanted to save my words. And she knew what she was asking of me now. \n\n\nI did a quick calculation. The song would take a little over half of the words I could still use in my life. I didn't care. A silent life didn't matter to me if I didn't have the one person I wanted to talk to with me.\n\n\n\"Of course,\" I whispered gently and leaned over to kiss her forehead. She smiled weakly back at me. I cleared my throat once more and felt my chest constrict, this time, I knew it wasn't from my disease. \n\n\n\nEdit:: I finished writing it since I posted it on accident the first time. Sorry, I'm on mobile!" ]	2
	[WP]A terrorist cell plans to break into a major manufacturing plant to blow it up. Their target: The Wonka Chocolate Factory.	[ "We'd been watching them for months. Every phone call they made, every journey they took and every meeting they held - all observed, logged and analysed.\n\nI flick the ash from my cigarette.\n\nIt had not been difficult to get on their trail. A higher-up of the self-titled 'Diabetic State' had demonstrated the organisations' infancy by including a rogue oompa loompa in their plan: to destroy the Wonka Factory.\n\nI take another drag, almost savouring the bitterness it induces in my heart\n\nNever trust an Oompa Loompa.\n\nMonths of reconnaissance had led to this evening. A dark November night has settled itself above me, the stars are bright, the air is cold, but I am ready. Ready to fight, ready to kill.\n\nI consider Augustus, the Oompa Loompa who had infiltrated DS. Not the most intelligent of the little fuckers, but savvy enough to get himself in and get the information we needed. Trusting an Oompa Loompa was their mistake, the only mistake they needed to make.\n\nMy walkie hisses from my shoulder. They're here. In perfect unison with those next to me I check and load my rifle. \n\nFive seconds\n\nI check my scope.\n\nFour seconds\n\nThe man next to me makes eye contact, nods, then fixes his gaze ahead.\n\nThree seconds\n\nThey'd be coming any-\n\n*BOOM\n\nThe ground trembles beneath my feet. I look around wildly and see a jagged light erupt from the factory that is just under a mile away.\n\nMy thoughts are reeling, I'm grasping for an understanding of how this has happened. But nothing comes back.\n\nStrangely, everything stops.\n\nMy frantic thoughts are suddenly still.\n\nMy hands find their own way to my chest. I look down and stare at the oompa blade protruding from between my ribs.\n\n'It doesn't belong there'\n\nI fall into my back, with everything becoming surreal and distant. There is no pain, no white lights or fabled highlight reel.\n\nThere is only the aroma of chocolate, the amber glow from the factory remains, and a sound.\n\nA sound that somehow haunts my dying consciousness:\n\nOompa Loompa, doom-pa-dee-do\n\nOompa Loompa, doom-pa-dee-da*" ]	1
	[WP] You're on a blind date, and it's going well. It is interrupted by a highly organized robbery. Your only response is, "Ugh. Not again."	[ "I was sitting on the table, reaching over to a breadstick when my blind date shreaks in terror. I look over, and see a highly organized robbery. Woopeedoo, that's a robbery, I thought. I say out loud \"Ugh, not again\". I finish my breadstick, pull out an AR-15 from my back pocket, and unload on all those fuckers. \n\nOnce everyone in the restaurant is dead including my blind date, I slowly turn the gun to face towards my head. \"Not again\" I whisper as I unload the bullets into my skull." ]	1
an IT guy*	[WP] In the year 2088 you're a IT guy working on the Immortality Project. A project where humans are uploaded as AIs when they die. You accidentally spill your coffee and crash a server. Killing 3 million people.	[ "Damn it all to hell, you were running super late today. The newborn next door had cried every hour on the hour. This was it's first night home and it cried all night. Weren't newborns relatively quiet until they got a little older? You shook your head, you didn't know as you never had kids of your own. No, you had spent your life working on computers all day, every day. No time for a social life, not to mention women didn't exactly find you attractive or appealing. All that hard work paid off though, you managed to land this IT job working on the immortality project, a big thing now days to \"live forever\" as they were advertising. In all truth what they do is upload your memories, personality, thoughts, anything that made up a person into the computer. Then they would send that info off to the AI factory when you, the actual human, passed away. You would be downloaded into an AI body and could \"live forever\". Ha, more like live the same hardships a person already has to deal with, money, bills, work, all those wonderful things that came from being an adult. Kids were also uploaded, but each year the kid would have to come in for an update, you know since their brains change as they age. That is where you worked, you watched over the kids' files being updated, making sure to delete the old copies. Because this was such a data consuming area the government didn't want to keep back ups. So when you got to work, set your coffee and lunch on the table you thought nothing different than any other day. Sadly today was going very badly, you tripped over a mouse trap, stumbled and bumped the table. You watched, almost in slow motion, as the coffee cup rocked and swirled before flying through the air and hitting the data servers. \n\nNote: This may have issues but I liked the prompt. I welcome any helpful criticism. ", "The part where I killed three million people was the easy part. \n\nI was managing the Immortality Drives- room sized servers into which the dying uploaded their personalities, attaining a sort of disembodied eternal life. And I spilled my coffee, which normally wouldn't be a problem, but the thermal and moisture guards had been removed for overdue maintenance three weeks ago and still hadn't been replaced, and... don't worry about it. That's not the point if the story. \n\nSo the server shorted out and three million people ceased existing. Which is barely a problem. I mean, they're digitally stored, right? We keep them backed up. You know how sometimes there's server wide latency from an Immortality Drive? There's a good chance that what really happened is a brief mechanical failure caused everyone on that server to cease existing, and then automated systems restored them all from backup.\n\nIt's no big deal. Happens all the time. The people on the servers don't even notice. They're just dead for a few moments- or non existent if you'd prefer that terminology- and then they're back. If we do it fast enough they don't even notice. \n\nSo no, spilling coffee on the server was an annoyance at best. I just needed to clean out the spill, replace a few components, and fire the old girl back up. Sure, it would be a longer gap in existence than usual, but still no more than fifteen minutes. \n\nAnd that's what I did. \n\nThe problem... Ok. So yes, there was a problem. A big one. \n\nLike three days before the same techs who took off the moisture guard put in a new automated restore subsystem. \n\nAnd they didn't document their work. \n\nSo here I am, no idea this new system is installed, working away at fixing the coffee spill. I being the system back online, resurrecting three million people... and the complaints email instantly overloads and crashes. \n\nTurns out that the moment the coffee shorted everything out, a new automated system transferred hosting duties to a server farm in New Shanghai. No one was dead.* And I had just \"resurrected\" fifteen minute old ghosts of people who were still living!\n\nSo now instead of three million people, we've got six million. Do you know what a mess this is? They own property! But which one owns it? Like two million of the originals were married. The ones with spouses on the same server aren't that big if a deal- at least there's still a one to one ratio of husbands and wives- but what about the ones with partners on other servers? And of course the corporation isn't getting paid twice to host two versions of these people. The higher ups are pissed.\n\nSo anyway... how was your day, honey? ", "\"You did what?\"\n\nMy boss was livid. Understandably so, I suppose - with one stupid mistake I had wiped out about as many people as died during the Korean War. But it wasn't helping anything really.\n\n\"I spilled coffee on the SAN.\"\n\n\"What the fuck were you doing in the DC with coffee?\"\n\n\"Well, it's like this...\" I replied \"..you know the patch head office sent out last week?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Well it was a shit patch. We lost a couple hosts before I managed to call it back. So I was in trying to fix that. I realised the problem was with the Cisco hardware. So then I had to pull out the compatibility matrix and try and read that thing. At five in the morning. So yeah - I needed a little pick me up.\"\n\n\"That little pick me up just killed three million people.\"\n\nI sighed. \"Spare me the drama alright Don? These people are long dead, we're just storing their personality matrix and memories. And we've got a disaster recovery plan just for this kind of thing.\"\n\n'So what's happening then?\"\n\n\"Right now? Not much. I offloaded most of our primary functions to Shanghai and Durban. Anyone who wants to connect with their loved ones will notice increased latency, but nothing serious. There's about a five hour gap in in between their datastores and ours, but that's nothing serious either. I could try and work on individual accounts to bring them up to date, but I don't think that's a good use of my time. IBM has been called about storage. Tomorrow morning is when they told me, but they're aiming for sooner. When it comes in we'll deploy, sync from our friends in Durban and Shanghai and then add in the memories from tape backup - should fix the missing five hours. Once the hardware's here we're talking a five hours to pull back from the remote sites, another day maybe to make sure everything lines up.\"\n\n\"New clients?\"\n\n\"I've cobbled together enough spare storage to allow us to keep about a week's worth of personalities. As long as we don't see a major incident we should be fine until I get everything else running as I should.\"\n\nI could hear my boss grumbling in the background. \"Alright. Keep me posted.\"\n\n\"Will do boss. Goodbye.\" I hung up. Back to work. But first - a coffee." ]	3
Kinda inverse to HFY; humanity, lol wut?	[WP] Aliens arrive, perform a "show" thoroughly mocking us, and then leave	[ "\"Sir? Are you alright?\"\n\n\"Sir?\"\n\nThe president sat still. He had completely drifted off into thought. He did that under moments of stress, which was sometimes very inconvenient. In the middle of meetings, right before speeches - there's been a few such situations. He stared off into space, while the aide waited. He'd snap out of it in a few moments.\n\n\"Please tell me you're joking,\" the president said suddenly. The aide shook his head.\n\n\"I'm afraid not, sir. Mars is just gone. They blew it up completely.\"\n\n\"Get me NASA, immediately,\" The President said, standing and walking out of the room. The aide followed.\n\n\"Yes sir,\" he said, taking his cellphone out.\n\n\"And they broadcasted it on all the television stations?\" The President asked.\n\n\"Not exactly sir... They aired it on every even numbered channel.\"\n\n\"That's even worse. That means they know how arbitrary things like our TV work. They've been studying us.\"\n\n\"Yes sir. Here you go, sir.\" The aide handed over his phone.\n\n\"Jim?\" The president asked the man on the other side.\n\n\"Mr. President. I recommend you just listen. Most of the remnants of Mars that are heading toward us will burn up in our atmosphere, but there is a chunk that's a mile wide that will touch down in the Atlantic ocean in about a week.\"\n\n\"How will that affect us?\" The president asked.\n\n\"Well, if I had to guess, I'd say that New York is going to suffer from a monster tsunami. I'd recommend an evacuation.\"\n\nThe president sighed and rubbed his sore eyes. \"What about our orbit or whatever? Is there going to be any gravity problems or something?\"\n\n\"No sir,\" the head of NASA said. His voice faded for a moment. \"There won't be many long term impacts on the solar system.\"\n\n\"And where did the... Aliens go?\" It felt foreign. He was trained for these situations, but it was much more real now.\n\n\"We think they've moved over to Proxima Centuri. We can't be positive, however.\"\n\nThere was silence between the two parties for a few moments as the president got into a limousine.\n\n\"Alright, Jim, I'll need to get you into contact with the military, but we will be fighting back. You need to start investing 100% of NASA's focus into methods of attack, in space.\"\n\nJim was silent for a few moments. The president didn't know this, but the head of NASA had sat down and was monitoring his accelerated heart rate. \"What did you have in mind, Mr. President?\"\n\n\"Nukes, Jim. Even if we have to duct tape them to rockets, we need to hit them with all we've got.\"\n\n\"Mr. President, you can't just strap a nuclear bomb to a Delta V and send it into orbit!\"\n\nThe president began to yell. \"You'd better find a way, or so help me I'll arrest you for treason, and strap YOU to a rocket. Is that clear?!?!\"" ]	1
	[WP] With every remake of Red Dawn the country that invades the United States gets progressively more ridiculous.	[ "The Executive shifts uncomfortably in his seat in the screening room, wondering how subtly he can check his watch without ticking anyone off. In the dark around him are the Studio Head, the Original Director, the New \"Oh Shit What Kind of Movie Did We Pay For, Fix This Now\" Director, a handful of Executives with Made-Up-Sounding Titles, and one of the film's producers. \n\n\"We're doing Red Dawn again,\" was the directive from the Studio Head. \"I'm not proud of it, but they always end up working for us. Every ten years or so we can throw a bunch of stars and stripes at whomever is pissing on our pant legs and the flyovers eat it up. I want this streaming in headsets by July 4th.\" The original had bowed a few decades back, and truly, the Wolverines had clashed with just about the whole of America's enemies, allies, and even robots and aliens when the cultural climate called for it since. The last project the Executive wanted on his desk was another \"Red Dawn,\" but his second wife wanted a third house, so... \n\nThey have to be wrapping it up now. The helicopters are screaming over the town square, lasers razing the Resistance fighters, etc. The evil Colonel stands over the broken youths, ultimately letting them go. This scene takes about five minutes longer than it ought to, and the Executive hopes the New Director can feel his angry eyes glaring through him. It's unsettling to see a CGI Patrick Swayze as the bad guy, the Executive railed against it, but the Studio still had his estate under contract. \n\nThe bloody finale begins just as the Executive is wondering if his entire ass has fallen asleep. He yawns, hurriedly stops himself and wonders if anyone can see his mouth, almost whispers a corrective \"oh shit\" out loud, and reminds himself to fire everyone in the room that he can while the final monologue rolls over the credits. \n\n...In the early days of the Sixth Civil War, guerrilla fighters – mostly teens – placed the names of their lost upon this rock. They fought here alone and gave up their lives, so \"that this nation shall not perish from the earth,\" and eventually repelled the Texan Republic's Invasion.\" \n\nSigh. Why didn't they want to use Canada again? ", "Jake blinked, \"I\"m sorry... what did you say?\" He looked up from the script of the umpteenth remake of Red Dawn. He had considered it, considering how downhill his career was going anyway. Maybe this would help revive his popularity.\n\nThe man sitting across him at the large mahogany desk smiled brightly at him as if nothing was wrong. \"I said, we decided to go for a literal version.\"\n\n\"A literal version?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"How literal?\" Jake flipped through the script then spotted it.\n\n\"Very!\"\n\nJake stopped flipping through the script when he saw it. There on the tenth page, it read Several giant bottles of Dawn dish soap soar through the air, spewing out red liquid to the soldiers below.\n\n\"Dawn... dish soap....\"\n\n\"Yes!\" The man behind the desk continued to smile as if nothing was wrong with this idea at all.\n\nJake stared at him. \"Dish soap... attacks the United States...\"\n\n\"It's so clever, don't you think? It's already invaded the homes of Americans. What better-- Wait... where are you going?\"\n\n\"I am not going to be a part of this... this.\" Jake dropped the script on the man's desk and left.", "Tom was sweating, spinning the globe before him, eyes roving desperately over the laminated plastic surface. Next to the globe was his laptop, a mostly blank document opened up, cursor blinking languidly next to a title.\n\nRED DAWN XIX: Mo' Freedom, Mo' Problems\n\nWhy had he even signed up for this? Everyone he worked with had advised against it, the Red Dawn franchise was dead and gone...all of the good countries had already been taken. The original film had done Russia and Cuba, then had come North Korea, Russia again, Nigeria, Mexico, India, China...the list wound on and on. There had even been a spectacular Canadian invasion at one point, though it had ultimately fallen flat at the box office. \n\nThis movie was supposed to be the one that brought Red Dawn back to its former glory. The franchise that had produced the Wolverines couldn't just be allowed to die in a cinematic ditch...could it?\n\nTom continued to scour the globe but was continually baffled. \n\nThe studio had set the rules pretty firmly. No U.S. allies this time, not after the Canadian Red Dawn debacle. \n\nUnfortunately that rule snipped most of the powerful nations of the world out of the equation. Tom had been sort of leaning towards a German invasion of the United States, but seeing as how the Germans were part of NATO...well...\n\n\"Maybe Russia,\" Tom sighed, \"...again.\" \n\nHe stopped the globe's spinning, finger resting on the North Sea. \n\nHmm. \n\nScotland?\n\nNah...Scotland wasn't even a country. And the British would pitch a fit if American cinema legitimized them as one...especially with another independence referendum coming up.\n\nHe rested his chin on the heel of one hand and stared sourly down at the globe. But his thoughts about Scotland had awoken something. He wasn't entirely sure what exactly, but it was something. Something in that part of the world...\n\nAnd suddenly his eyes brightened. He sat bolt upright in his chair, staring intently at the North Sea's blank, featureless surface. \n\nBlank...\n\nFeatureless...\n\nThat wasn't entirely true. There was something out there...something promising.\n\n\"Sealand.\" Tom said, folding his arms, feeling pleased with himself, \"this is gonna be fucking awesome.\"\n\nHe started to type. " ]	3
	[WP] Chickens begin to rapidly develop very advanced intelligence. Realize we're eating their young, and...	[ "\"Listen, Mr.... Uh...\"\n\n\"Mr. Leghorn!\" The rooster shouted back and irritably and fixed his clip on tie.\n\n\"Ah... Yes.\" The lawyer stuttered, wiping sweat from his forehead and fumbling with a paper. \"Mr. Leghorn. Now I know, uh, you and your kind are rightly disgusted with the practices we have concerning...-\"\n\n\"Concerning the consumption of our species, and of our unborn children!\"\n\n\"Yes, uh- that. But let me ask you one thing Mr. Leghorn.\" He began, clearly not confident enough to deal with the rise of a new species demanding equal rights and a demand for compensation for the misteatment of their kind while it was in their baby stages.\n\n\"And that is...?\" The chicken chided, his fellow feathered lawyer struggling to pick up a pen with his beak. He finally succeeded, holding the pen up proudly and attempting to write something down.\n\n\"Have you ever... tried- chicken?\" The man squeaked.\n\nThe sound of the pen instantly dropping back to the table met their ears and the two chickens stood with their mouths hanging open, not a word to be said.\n\n\"Wait, wait- Let me get this straight-\" The other chicken finally spoke and waved his wings into the air angrily. \"Did you just suggest to us... Cannibalism?!\"\n\n\"Well you see here, I've got uh-\" The lawyer bent over in his chair and retrieved a bucket of KFC chicken from the ground. \n\n\"I've cannot BELIEVE, this is happening, can you believe this Jerry?\" The chicken turned to his lawyer and the other shook his head wildly, his taped on glasses coming undone and clattering to the tabletop.\n\n\"Well if you just have a taste you might actually see that-\"\n\n\"I'll have no more of this nonsense! This is an outrage!\"\n\nThe two chickens turned to each other and whispered, just out of range of the human.\n\nTwenty minutes later the trio sat, surrounded by the picked clean bones of KFC chicken breasts.\n\n\"Oh god. Its delicious.\" One said gravely as he stared into space, the other still working on another breast.\n\n\"So you agree then? To the terms that is?\"\n\nThe chicken hopped onto the table, holding a wing out to the lawyer.\n\n\"It's agreed. Fourty percent for all you make off of us, and uh, of course reduced cost for our kind to buy more of this delicious food.\"\n\n\"So your alright with us butchering your kind?\" He asked doubtfully.\n\n\"Well, something has to be done with the ones who don't contribute to our new society, right? Might as well make use of them!\"\n\nThe lawyer smiled and gingerly shook the wing before sliding a paper over.\n\n\"Wonderful!\" The man beamed. \"Just sign here.\"\n\nThe end. Moral of the story, chicken is good. Also chickens are still ridiculous, no matter the IQ." ]	1
Illustrate in words the son,g, either the regular or extended versions. Not the remix.	[WP] Avicii's "Hey Brother"	[ "(I like using the extended versions because of the beginning and ending guitar solo's, so that is the version I go with.) \n\n As the guitar starts strumming, a series of sepia pictures flashes, showing the growth of a young man and his sister, both growing up, playing, swinging and being children. The boy and girl are very close, going through school, getting awards, and being very competitive and forging a strong bond together. \n\nThey both quickly enlist in the military, and as the singing starts, both siblings are shown in video now, in the same unit training and quickly rising to the top of their class. Both of them are happy, they are not struggling and work together, best friends in every endeavour. \n\nWhen one of them gets hurt, the other picks the wounded sibling up, pulling them to their feet and pushing them onward forward into the next challenge, and they both progress equally. \n\n\n With the drum beats that start at 1:08, the scene shifts, the brother and sister are loaded on airborne drop ships, with the appearance of Star Wars Clone Trooper Dropships. As they approach a sandy battlefield, they both look down out of their respective Dropships and watch as flack and AA fire come up from all around. The sister and brother both glance at each other as \"as the sky comes falling down.\" is sung, and her Dropship is struck, going into an immediate tailspin. Moments later, with the first Cymbal crash His own is struck, the weight falling out from under the wings and they go down quickly. \n\n\"We're loosing altitude, we've been hit hard on the right side!!! \" The pilot screams out, warning lights and screams from passengers as they fall quickly and loose altitude toward the sandy surface below. The brother soldier, jumps forward, grabbing emergency chutes and starts shoving soldiers out of the open cargo doors, and throws the pilot out as the craft depends, riding it out himself until it crashes into a berm. He rises, unhurt miraculously and grabs his pack and turns to search for his sister's downed craft. \n\nThe soldier starts running toward the rising billow of smoke when all of a sudden several drop pods break atmosphere, flying towards his position and UNSC Spirit of Fire along with a squadron of Longsword Fighters engage a fleet of Klingon Warships above the desert.\n\nThe ODST pods land and kick open, Master Chief and a squadron of ODST troopers led by Buck emerge, immediately engaging a large horde of Goblins, Orcs and Hunters charging their position. \n\n\"Come on kid, let's finish this fight!\" Master chief says, pulling out his BR and lighting up the dark sky with blasts. Buck and Mickey Pull the Soldier to his feet. \n\n\"Come on Rookie, on my 6!\" Buck shouts, and they all take off with heavy fire blocking their path. Pinned down they slowly make their way through the fray, and above them the air battle getting more intense as well. \n\nDropping from Warp and Light speed respectively, the USS Enterprise and Voyager both drop out of Warp, alongside a large fleet of Asgard Ships and the USS Prometheus, engaging another horde of Reavers, Tie Fighters and 2 Super Star destroyers. Explosions from the fighting craft hold off the bulk of the forces from coming down, however several Tie Fighters break free, and are quickly pursued by several F-22 Fighter jets and The Firefly class Serenity. \n\nThe ground troops push forward, getting caught up in another firestorm, this time thousands of troops surrounding them with almost no hope of getting out unscathed. \n\nSeveral Y-wing's, closely pursued by different Frigate vessels from New Eve get shot down, pirates picking in on the battle. Taking aim at the small party working through the battlefield they are almost within bomber range when they get shot down by blasts from the NX-01 Enterprise and energy blasts from a Banshee fighter. \n\nWatching them crash close the reactor on one of the fallen crafts goes critical and blows a giant hole in the ground forces and quickly Master Chief throws the whole party through, taking lots of the damage but his shields recharging quickly. Throwing down a Bubble shield they weather a portion of the assault while the forces regroup. \n\nOrbital strikes from opposing ships come down in droves, and multiple large explosions occur on the ground as Clone troopers start flanking the horde from both sides. Dividing their attention from the small group of ODST and Spartan with the Soldier in tow they all charge forward clearing the battlefield and reaching the other downed Dropship.\n\nHe sees his sister, still unconscious but not harmed. Giving her a med pack they get up and raise her to her feet. Grabbing a sniper rifle, they radio in and fire begins to concentrate around their perimeter. Rail gun blasts from naval ships in the sky and far in the sea start raining shells down on the enemy forces, and several large missiles enroute get shot out of the air, landing in patches of the enemy forces. \n\nThe Enterprise D changes course, heading for the downed group of soldiers but quickly gets disabled by several Reapers. The SR-2 Normandy Flies past, dropping 2 huge Mac cannon blasts and takes on the Reapers and their wrath and saves the Enterprise D. \n\nThey look up, hope dwindling as all rescue efforts start to break down and fail, all forces nearly deadlocked. \n\nFinally something breaks the fold, a large, chaotic explosion happens, the Super Star Destroyer falling from the sky towards the battlefield and everyone looks up as the hordes of Orcs goblins grunts and enemies disperses in fear. \n\nA small fast craft, glinting with sunlight swoops down and snatches the group from the ground and turns immediately to hit warp in atmosphere. The Defiant had grabbed all the troops, and escaped moments before the enemy fleet's flagship began to break warp stability and explode. \n\n As the music returns to just a guitar solo, the smile of a child is seen and then zooms out, showing a sandbox with lots of toy ships and soldier figures, and a Father and dad play, making zoom-zoom noises and illustrated booms with their mouths. His sister, on the other side holds a female action figure and they smile, their two sides winning the battle against dad's army of sci-fi tropes. " ]	1
	[WP] Magic and magical creatures used to be real and a part of our world millenia ago, but something caused all magic to disappear and the creatures to become their human counterparts. This year, the magic started to return.	[ "The magic didn’t suddenly descend on the city like summer storm, it wound its way through the streets like smoke, insinuated itself in the minds of the businessmen and the crackheads and the schoolkids tightrope-walking on the kerbs, arms raised parallel as though they had magic at the tips of their fingers. They were the ordinary kids made extraordinary, but nobody noticed at first because all kids seem extraordinary. And nobody noticed the crackheads because that was just what they were like, right? And nobody noticed the businessmen because they never took the time to stop and introspect, never paused for two moments on their daily commute to be conscious of the ice warmth rising up within them.\n\nBut the kids grasped the magic in their hands and ran with it, and playtime suddenly became real; fantasy turned to actuality. The powers returned in various ways, but the most common was swift-footedness, an ability to chase and be chased with extraordinary speed. Levitation, similarly, resurfaced; an artefact of the fae-folk they had once been, in another generation, almost another universe entirely. They ran through streets without a toe placed on the ground. Nobody questioned, because nobody cared about children at play, so long as they kept off of the roads and out of the way of the commuters and businessmen.\n\nSoon, some of the children excelled at hide and seek. They were revered among their playmates, even the ones who could bound and could levitate; they called them the shadow-children, because they dissolved before your eyes, blending into grey-smoke darkness in the walls of alleyways and backstreet corners.\nNobody knew what creatures these children were derived from; perhaps from creatures of ash, perhaps of something more sinister. But none of it mattered – the children were happy, happier than usual, and the same men and women sat on street corners and in alleyways, watching, and the businessmen went on their way still, the unrealised magic sparking from their fingertips to their touchphones like electricity.\n\nOne day, Emma walked into the lounge to call her son to dinner, and she met with an empty sofa.\n\nAir caught in her throat as she choked on the syllables. “Josh? Joshua?” The voice came out unsteady, the quiet confusion before hysteria. “Josh? Where are you?”\n\nThe lightest of pulls on her trouser-leg. Glancing down with the speed of a mother’s instinct, she saw her son – her son, just an outline, a shadow-form even in the stark bare light.\n\nUnfazed, she reached down to embrace him, knowing nothing but familiarity, even with the creature with no name before her. And the hug – though brief, and lingering, and connecting with nothing much more than air – struck something within her.\n\nAn insight, if you will.\n\nA millennium of magic and fantasy and strange anonymous creatures, all confined to the vaults of myth and fantasy.\n\nIn the streets below, businessmen stopped on the way home from work and paid attention to the strange change within them. Some dropped their briefcases. Some grew tails and claws and fangs. The people on the street corners watched, smiling faintly, expressions frozen; they had known what they were, they had had known it all along.\n\nQuivering, Emma raised her hands from the son before her, and she too realised her metamorphosis.\n" ]	1
	[WP]: Five ragged strangers appear at your door, bringing a letter from an old friend of yours. It contains only two sentences. "YOU OWE ME. Help them."	[ "The grating blurt of three chirps repeated several time before my hand fumbled around and clacked the snooze button on my alarm clock. Groaning in protest as I buried my face into the warm embrace of my pillows before sighing heavily. I grumbled something incoherent whilst my body railed against the decision to get out of my warm cocoon duvet and away from base creature comforts. \"Just another five more minutes\" I convinced myself as sleep slowly began to reassert its grip on me. Thank god for the snooze timer.\n\nA second grating ring reached my ears and I huffed in irritation. Looking over to the red display on my clock it read something along the lines of ten to nine. Furrowing my brow a second ring jangled my nerves as the realization hit me that my doorbell was calling for me. A colourful curse escaped my lips as I flopped out of bed and hurriedly put on some baggy pajama trousers with my dressing gown, whoever was at the door was just going to have to deal with it.\n\nI managed to navigate the stairs and shuffled over to the door as a third ring flared my irritation and I grabbed the handle and hauled open the door with a scowl on my face. My scowl became confused as five figures stood in varying states of weariness. The one closest to me, a five foot nothing woman with dark hair, piercing eyes and a strong jaw thrust a note towards my chest and my eyes went from her to the letter and back to her.\n\n\"Please just....just read it\" she said, her eyes pleading with me and my brain kicked up the gears a few notches in the start-up sequence. Taking the letter in hand I noticed it was scorched in a few spots. Dark blotches of soot and tears signifying the bearers clearly hadn't gone through normal channels to deliver it to me. I recognized the handwriting instantly and my blood began to boil as my eyes read what few words there were.\n\n\"YOU OWE ME. Help them\" it had loosely scrawled on it, signed with a solitary letter \"G\". I crumpled the paper and shut my eyes as I shook my head and raised my eyebrows. \"Yeah\" I said as my other hand rubbed the bridge of my nose as I sighed heavily. \"Yeah just...come in, kitchen's through there. Should be first aid under the sink and a coffee machine next to the toaster\". I said blearily as the woman gave me an odd look. \"Coffee\" I explained \"I need my Coffee. Yeesh you kids have turned like...well this\" I indicated with my hand sweeping across the group. \"Least you can do is make me some Coffee\". I turned away from the group and shuffled back inside, it took them a few confused seconds to realize I wanted them to follow me. I went into the kitchen and leant with my back to my stove, it wasn't a big room but there was space enough around the table for them to tend to whatever wounds they may have accrued. As they stumbled in I looked over the group with a speculative eye. They didn't look too old, all around colleague age and clearly avid shoppers of hot-topic with the amalgamation of dark and edgy clothing they were sporting. They just seemed like a couple of gawky guys and girls who were out of their depth it whatever it was they were doing. The woman who I first spoke to had something different about her though, she must have been the oldest or at least the leader of the small band. Her eyes met mine as she took a seat and an uncomfortable creeping sensation spread across the back of my neck. No sooner had they retrieved the medical kit and sat down, having clearly forgotten to put the coffee on, I opened my mouth.\n\n\"So what's the deal with you and this 'G'?\" I asked without preamble. \"How did you meet them and what did you to do make them send you here?\", I gave them a pointed look. The group shared a few sheepish looks with one another hoping that they wouldn't be forced to be the one to explain themselves to a total stranger. The dark haired girl spoke up.\n\n\"We were-\" She started in a measured tone, clearly trying to do preemptive damage control \"-up to a few things last night and He believes we may have uh...pissed off the wrong group\". I scowled and took a mental note of the gender of 'G'. A guy this time then. I remained silent and frowned as my lips tightened into a line. I wasn't happy with the vagueness of the explanation and made that pointedly clear with the half-lidded glare I gave her. Her eyes flared in defiance and she changed her posture to a more defensive stance. \"Look it wasn't that bad! We just tried a few dumb things and came out with more than we expected is all\". I balled one hand and shut my eyes tight as I rubbed the bridge of my nose for a second time in five minutes, a new record by my count.\n\n\"Alright look. Gabriel doesn't just call in a favor like this and I want to help you. I'm not going to be able to if you aren't straight with me. If you've done some dumb shit then fine, whatever. We all have at some point but you must've really pissed off someone down there\" I pointed downwards to the floor. \"To warrant getting a letter from Gabriel and coming to me\". The group sat in stunned silence just as I heard my porch door slide open and I rolled my eyes and pushed off the stove and made a move towards the front door. The girls eyes widening in surprise and something else; Fear. This wasn't good.\n\nI opened the front door before a well dressed man in a pin-stripe suit could press the doorbell. A well cut head of hear, clean shaven and immaculate complexion complemented dark eyes as they looked me over and a slight curl of the lip indicated he was mildly disgusted at my pyjama trousers and fluffy dressing gown.\n\n\"Mr Smith. I believe that you may be harboring a known group of troublemakers and I would really very much appreciate it if I could perhaps take them off your hands\" he said with a distinctly British accent. I sighed and my decaffeinated brain complained at the lack of sustenance." ]	1
	[WP] The first FTL ship is sent to visit Proxima Centauri but the Artificial Intelligence goes haywire. A long lost sub-light generational ship is still en route and comes to the rescue.	[ "The well lit chamber sloped slightly down the middle, the slight sheen of plastic reflecting the artificial light illuminating the simple table that's bolted to the floor in the centre. Silence engulfed the area as it gets interupted by a puff of air and the mechanincal buzzing of fine machinery. Blue lines of light flickered against one of the white walls, as the lines started to cross the faint shape of a low polygon count face started to take shape. The projection scanned the room slowly and meticulously looking for something. It's eyes stop at the large hexogonal window looking out at the star filled exterior.\n\nThe window thumped as the sound is quickly followed by two taps in quick succesion. A heavy radio stattic fills the helmet of a man outside as he slowly drifts by the window. \"This is 4th gen vanguard touching down at distress beacon Femer Charlie. No signs of activity at exterior hull. Requesting permission to move to inspect entry zone. Over.\". The static subsides slightly as a female voice fills the helmet. \"Permission granted Vanguard, move carefully, the ship looks human in make but we have no record of an earlier departure. Over.\". The man looked at the highly reflective hexogonal surface with curiousity, \"Roger that Mike Sierra, entering radio silence. 4th gen Vanguard over and out.\" A sharp double ping rings through the suit signifying the end of the transmition.\n\nScott looked at his reflection, the black suit looking back is made for long maintenance spacewalks, thick equipment slots integrated in both thigh compartments left the upper body free for quick motions, the gloves are a thin form fitting fabric to support fine motor functions. Light metal pockets on the upper arms held the main life support chaches. A small square pack on the chest and back connected by multiple tubes integrated in the layers of the suit regulated the back-up lifesupport. Each support system could keep him alive for 6 hours. This quad-system is standard for all long maintenance suits. \n\nPulling himself across the hull towards a hatch Scott felt the sluggishness of the suit. The LMS was known to be slow in movement and with no high speed personal transport bursts it was the slowest of it's make year, but it makes that up with sturdiness and reliability. The hatch was circular with a single red pullpin in the centre. Inscribed on the hatch was a globe filled star with a star racing past. Scott noted it as the United earth space program logo but it looked freshly inscribed. The ones on Mike Sierra looked ancient compared to this one.\n\nThe pin felt flimsy and fragile in his hand as he grabs it, a small terminal next to the handle becomes visable as the hatch itself slowly became transparent revealing an empty decompression chamber behind it. The terminal blinks twice showing the outline of a hand. Scott raises his eyebrow in surprise as he instinctively puts his hand on the terminal. A blue line projects out as it scans his hand. A second passes as multiple screens pop up around his hand.\n--- Main bloodline: Vanguard ---\n--- Highest DNA comparrison: Scott / Brindley generation one ---\n--- DNA mutation: minimal ---\n--- ACCES: GRANTED ---\n\nA latch releases as the transparent parts move inside, opening the hatch inwards. Scott drifts inside as the hatch closes behind him and turns opaque again. Dozens of blue lights shoot out of small laser pointers imbedded in the walls as they start crawling over scott's suit and body. A moment passes as the lights focus on a point in front of Scott. In multiple rapid movements the lights conveys a highly detailed human face. An unmistakable human voice speaks out.\n\n\"Welcome to The Oracle. My name is Aimon. How was your trip from Mike Sierra?\". Scott's eyes widen as he sees the detailed body take shape. Left speechless the projection continues. \"We are disapointed to announce that we have yet to recieve your crewlist, so I won't be able to welcome you by your name. May I ask what your name is?\". As silence slowly creeps back into the decompression chamber a throat clearing chough echoes through Scott's helmet. He's still surprised but no longer dumbfounded as he presses the small release button under his chin. \"My apologies ship computer Aimon.\" Aimon interupts \"Please call me Ann.\" Scott continues \"Alright, Ann. As I was saying, my name is Scott, 4th gen Vanguard from Mike Sierra. Here to respond to distress call Femer Charlie. May I ask why all hails for comm have been denied?\" Ann gives a confused look for a fraction of a second as its face contorts back to an amused and satisfied look. \"We have disabled all non essential equipment onboard The Oracle. It seems the FTL jump took more power than anticipated. A malfuntion in the power containment unit resulted in the purge of 98% of total powers supply. We are currently in a state of power conservation.\" Ann gives off a friendly smile and continues with a more exiting tone \"Recharching is commencing as we speak, the crew has worked most efficiently and we are currently stable at 25% capacity. But the battery seems to destabelize at 30%, two percent under the required ftl energy levels. Would you mind taking a look, Scott?\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] A portal opens between two parallel universes; in one is a world in a state of perpetual war, and in the other the same world in a state of perpetual peace. A man from the war-world passes through the portal at the same time as a man from the peace-world, and each is horrified at what he finds.	[ "The man from War,\n\nHe entered Peace.\n\nShuddered and muttered,\n\nOh God, No Please!\n\n \n> While the Woman of Peace,\n\n> Rode to War.\n\n> Her calloused feet,\n\n> Its World now wore.\n\n\nThe sights they saw,\n\nEach other's worlds dealt.\n\nThe pain of Peace,\n\nAnd the peace within War felt.\n\n\n\n\nFirst time writing. Please feel free to correct my mistakes, I'm not a person who normally writes anything. And I have zero clue on how to properly format here.\n" ]	1
This can be located in the middle of nowhere, a crowded city, or wherever you decide.	[WP] A new medical technology has been developed, allowing emergency responders to predict the location of the next accident before they even occur. Ambulances are now able to typically arrive at the scene very soon or even before the accident occurs. You hear an ambulance siren approaching you.	[ "The ambulance had been following Tom for two minutes now. Sure, it could've been waiting for anyone in this crowded hellhole of a city, but Tom was fairly sure that the ambulance had been shadowing him in particular.\n\n\"Well, fuck.\" He wasn't ready for this. Sure, it was somewhat reassuring that at least emergency personnel would be ready to treat him as soon as he got into his destined accident, but he could find no relief in the fact that he would be getting into such a thing in the first place. He would really want to avoid that. He had seven children to take care of, after all.\n\n\"Well,\" he thought to himself, \"at the very least I should go somewhere without any people so I can avoid any shootings or stabbings or whatever.\" Tom felt proud in his self-developed powers of perpetually calm reasoning; a power that had yet to fail him. He opened his mobile device and looked for an alleyway near where he stood. Fortunately for him, there was an alleyway right around the corner. After scanning it and finding no signs of life, he decided to set up camp there for a while.\n\nBut the ambulance didn't leave his sight, at least for long. Instead of moving on, the ambulance was now driving up and down the road, like an impatient husband waiting for his wife to finish making herself up. Every time the ambulance went out of sight, Tom would breathe a sigh of relief, only to see the ambulance pass by again in the opposite direction. Ultimately, Tom resigned himself to the fact that the ambulance was still waiting for him, and that his life was still in danger.\n\n\"That's not right,\" he thought, slowly starting to feel the pressure. \"I'm off the road, away from people, and there are no animals around here either. What in this place could possibly endanger my life?\"\n\nAs if on reflex, Tom's eyes shot up as he tried to look above him. Just as he expected, there was some kind of large affix to the building his back was facing; and it was wobbling dangerously. Almost immediately, he jumped away from it and watched as it fell to the ground where he had stood, breaking into several large pieces. Instinctively, he knew that he would've been killed should he have noticed it just a few seconds too late.\n\nFinally feeling his muscles loosen up, Tom picked himself up off the ground and starting wiping the dust off his brown coat. At that moment, the ambulance ran over him at full speed, instantly killing poor Tom.", "Its about 8 pm. The sun just crested over the trees, and it was much more comfortable to walk my predominately black-furred dog. He liked the cooler weather, and I liked knowing that he wasn't suffering. I take in the smell of flowers on the air, as the ever-present spring-time breeze pick up again.\nI'm listening to Owl City, and his voice is pounding through my ears. I'm a supreme level of peace when I hear it. The red and blue lights bounce off of the environment. \nI look around, half-panicking as the sound increases, and my headphones come off, and drape around my neck. My dog just seems confused. \"ah, so now they come for me.\" I whisper under my breath. My dog looks up at me and cocks his head. I pat the pooch, knowing full and well that whatever was about to happen, I wanted him to know that I loved him with all of my being.\nSending a quick prayer off, I look towards the road behind me, as the vehicle comes barreling towards me.\n\nMy dog starts barking that low deep bark that impressed so many, because he's no higher than your knee, when--\n\nI awaken, to find my entire family standing around my hospital bed. My father seems to be the most emotional at this time. I try to sit up, but a shooting searing pain racks my body.\n\nThe doctor comes in and says \"you were hit by an ambulance, son.\" Shocked, I respond \"But was it my ambulance?\"\n\nThe Doctor looks at me frankly and simply answers, \"No.\"", "I can see the ambulance. Blue and red lights color the road signaling my doom. What could be about to happen? I'm going at barely 18 miles per hour. Suddenly I see another ambulance behind it. And another. And another. I'm really scared. I see a fire in the distance. I speed up, I need to get away from what ever is about to happen.\n\nThe reports say the 31 year old man was trying to exit the town when he crashed with an ambulance responding to the fire. When he crashed, the abulance responding to the crash crashed, and so did the one behind it. So far 178 ambulances have crashed and the numbers are going up. This glitch in the system may mean the end of the vision program." ]	3
	[WP] The Earth is in its death throes. A new "Earth" has just been found and migration is underway. For some reason, you are unwilling to go...	[ "The line was moving swiftly. You'd think that chaos at a time like this would be natural. That everyone would be rushing for the shuttle. Something felt wrong about the whole situation. Maybe everyone here felt it. Despite the whole thing, everyone was calm. But it was an eerie calm in the loading docks.\n\n\"Hey, move it already, will you?\" A voice came from behind me. Amidst my daydreaming, I failed to notice the line that moved forward, and a vacant gap was in front of me. I stepped in, being broken from my trance.\n\nAnd yet, being aware of my surroundings instead of thinking about it only settled in that feeling further. It's one thing to understand something, but to witness it, even for the second or third time made all the difference. Everyone had a different outlook on this new development of life, and yet, it was a specific kind of outlook, similar enough to be unnoticed if you didn't look for it. \n\nIn one line for shuttle #47, I could see a young woman. Holding a young child with a toddler at her side. The look on her face showed signs of stress, while a business man in the line for Shuttle #38 looked as if this migration made him lose everything. His business, or something. He dressed sharply in a suit, like he had somewhere to be. Like he needed to look his best. Yet his face didn't seem to portray opportunity to those who saw it. It was as if he were trying to hide his true intentions.\n\nWas he like me? Having these same regrets or doubts? I had seen several others who were also looking around. Either out of boredom, or some with faces that read a slight amount of desperation. As if they were looking for their family. This all was abrupt after all.\n\nA ping played on the intercom, announcing that space was running out on Shuttle #45, and that only the next 100 people in line would be taken in, and the others would be re-directed to other lines. I looked down at my ticket. I was on #43. I wouldn't be moving. Though, I don't know what I wouldn't felt if I was. I hardly even know what I feel now.\n\nI looked ahead of me in line. There were easily... two, maybe three hundred people in front of me? I wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon.\n\nI looked down to the pamphlet in my hands, flipping through it, to distract my mind... What a strange planet. Where the grass was green, and the skies blue. Instead of the tans and dark gray of our own. History portrayed this Earth as the same once before. A long time ago. A time where light littered the sky in little specks. An atmoshpere clear enough to see cosmic entities such as stars, or moons. It was like something out of a fairy tale.\n\nAnd yet, it wasn't home.\n\n\n\nHome.\n\n\n\nThat's what it was. Without even leaving, I was feeling homesick. I turned to the sky. The smog filled atmosphere above me was the cause of this sudden evacuation. And yet, it was the smog filled atmosphere that I was familiar with. The one I woke up every day seeing above me.\n\nI knew then, I couldn't possibly do it. As if my legs disobeyed what my brain knew would be the end of me, I found myself stepping out of line, throwing away the 4 hours I spend standing prior, to what I now know I desire. I wanted to stay with my true home.\n\nAnd that's why I've taken my time to collect my thoughts. Why I document my moments. If someone eventually finds a ruined husk of what once made life, perhaps, one day, someone from far off will find my words. And rather than pass up this planet, they'll know its importance it once held.\n\nAnd maybe they'll take better care of the home that our species never could." ]	1
	[WP] Write a story inspired by your least favorite song.	[ "*(This is a copypasta of a prompt I did for favorite* songs, but honestly idk anyone who enjoys Smash Mouth unironically...)*\n\nThe world is gonna roll you. The world is gonna roll you. The world is gonna fucking roll you...\n\nSteve wasn't what one would call the sharpest tool in the shed. As a matter of fact, he was far from it. His hippocampus was more akin to a blunt cement mixer, churning putrid, disgusting mush and twisted, warped voices speaking in tongues, tongues that sounded inhuman, each like a monstrous ogre, each expressing the same common sentiment:\n\nThe world is gonna roll you. The world is gonna roll you. The world is gonna rooollll yooouuu. The world's gonna roll you Stevie boy!\"\n\nEven though he was out and about in the vast back streets of Los Angeles, Steve never felt more alone. It was a hard life living out of a cardboard box, but every now and then when The Voices wouldn't act up, Steve was able to peddle for a few bits of change for himself by playing the same off-key, out of tuned rhythm on his cheap $40 five-string (the G string had broken long ago) acoustic guitar. \n\nThe world is gonna roll you.\n\nIn retrospect, Steve didn't know what else he fucking expected from going to college for a music degree. He rationalized it then by saying he'd never know if he didn't, and while he didn't expect to be an all-star making six figures a year, but he also didn't expect to be living out here in this place year round. Ever since his parents kicked him out, the years seemed to pass by like a freight train with no sign of ever stopping. The days grew hotter and hotter, darkening under the arid smog, while the nights grew colder and colder, lit up with the glittery, iridescent, empty neon lights of decadence. \n\nThe days wouldn't stop coming. The years didn't stop coming. The taunting voices didn't stop coming. But despite his perpetual, monotonous routine, Steve was gonna finally break his mold of ennui and loneliness tonight. He walked down to the corner of 23rd where Toothless Laura was standing, whom signaled him over with a weird, L-shaped sign with her finger and thumb over her forehead. \n\nSteve walked over. Out of his pocket came the generous $20 tip a stranger handed him last Wednesday. Out of her pocket came a small ziploc baggie with a nondescript powder. \"Baby, I could use a little fuel,\" he said.\n\n\"The world is gonna roll you, the world's gonna roll you, the world is gonna roll you...\"* The Voices said.\n" ]	1
I posted this prompt a while ago, but it's like a bad itch. I find it such a romantic idea that it just needs scratching.	[WP][Althist] The countries of the world have advanced to the space-age without ever traversing the Atlantic ocean, discovering the Americas. The first man in space looks out his capsule window.	[ "He felt weightless. He felt free. He felt liberated.\n\nThe spaceman could not describe how he felt being in the endless void of space. All that seperated him from the universe was an enlargened tin can with windows and buttons. Suddenly, a voice came through his radio. \"Well?\" said the man at Mission Control, \"What do you see?\" \n\nThe spaceman pressed his face against the window like a small child looking into a candy shop. He started pointing out the general locations of European and Asian countries. His eupohira ended abruptly as the Great Ocean came into view. No one knew what laid beyond Iberia, but it was assumed to be an empty body of water. But in the distance, the spaceman saw land coming into his view.\n\n\"What IS that?\" the spaceman exclaims over the radio.\n\"What are you talking about?\" says the man at Mission Control.\n\"I see...I see land!\"\n\"Land? Where?\"\n\"Beyond the Great Ocean, far west of Spain!\"\n\nMission control did not respond. Suddenly, the red light in the spaceman's capsule started blinking. The spaceman was panicking. What's happening? the spaceman thought, Am I going to die? \"Ground control, there is a red light blinking and I don't know whats happening? Ground control, do you copy? I repeat, Ground Control, do yo-\"\n\nThe lid of the space capsule launched off, and the spaceman was immediatly sucked into space. The capsule builders made sure this could happen, just incase.\n\n\"It's over. Delta Protocol was a success.\"\nThe engineers at mission control had their face buried in their hands. They had all just killed the first man to ever go into space. One engineer turned to the mission head.\n\"Sir, why did we have to kill him?\"\n\"Because he saw too much.\"\n\"What did he see that was so important?\"\n\"I'm not at the liberty to tell you. All I can say is, he saw a place we want to forget.\"\n\n(I spinned off the prompt a bit, still hope you enjoyed.)", "The man in the mirror stared out the visible pane, wondering what would happen.\n\nThey had done tests like this before, to see if the technology actually worked. Nobody ever thought that something like this would come to fruition.\n\nThe dawn drew nearer. The stars began to dissipate to reveal the morning sky, and with that - the countdown began.\n\nten\n\nHe felt the mechanism rise from beneath him. The monstrosity began to lurch, creaking and moaning in pain as the first sacrifice was ready.\n\nnine\n\nA cold sweat ran down his forehead. Was this going to work? It's too late now. There's a life beyond these walls - I must know it exists.\n\neight\n\nThe overseers have finally approved this. A man - into the unknown? The sky realm? Who would've thought.\n\nseven\n\nI see man through stranger's eyes, sitting up here in this mechanism. What are the consequences of my actions?\n\nsix\n\nMy intentions are faithful - purely religious. The gods will uphold me in this regard, and I shall be granted eternal knowledge of the elders.\n\nfive\n\nA gulp of dry air runs down my throat. The time draws near.\n\nfour\n\nWill I ever see my family again?\n\nthree\n\nSilence.\n\ntwo\n\nThe silence grows louder. The heartbeat grows stronger.\n\none\n\nA final goodbye. Or the first hello? Time will tell.\n\nThe mechanism rears its ugly head, and breathes smoke as it flies upwards towards the heavens. Our dreams, coming alive. This is it. This is where we make our frontier.\n\nAs the mechanism flies farther and farther away from the known, the world becomes smaller. Almost unrecognizable at this point. The man in the mirror looked out his capsule window. His mouth was drawn agape with what can only be described as amazement.\n\nA blue land! A land of nothing but the color of the heavens. Have we been wrong all this time? I cannot believe this. We have been fooled! The gods reside beside us, watching over us from the gentle blue body. The ones who give us life, the ones who will deliver us from the evils of the world. This is where it begins, and this is where it ends.\n\nI must visit this place, to pay respects to these wondrous beings who gave us life. \n\nIn an instant, the man in the mirror began on his way to visit the blue world - the land of the gods.\n\nAnd then, all was quiet.\n\nHe had arrived, and all became known to him in an instant.\n\n- L\n\n(My first thoughts were a Native-American themed story, where Europeans never visited/found the Americas. Hope you enjoyed it, took a little bit of a spin on your prompt - hopefully not too far.)", "\"Ground Control to Major Tom. Come in Major Tom. Over\"\n\n\"This is Major Tom. Go ahead Ground Control. Over.\"\n\nThe crowd in Ground Control cheered and hugged and kissed each other in their overjoyed excitement. They'd done it. They'd sent the first man into space, and they did it before the Germans to boot. 1886 had seen some amazing inventions: color television, open ocean navigation, and now space flight. \n\n\"Congratulations, Major. You're the first man to ever be so close to the stars. Over.\"\n\n\"It's... Not what we expected. Over.\"\n\n\"Please elaborate Major. Over.\"\n\n\"It's not flat like we'd thought. The conspiracy theorists were right: the world's a sphere. But there's more.\"\n\nThe scientists and engineers at Ground Control looked at one another with expressions of confusion.\n\n\"What else do you see, Major? Over.\"\n\n\"There's... Land. A lot of it. Looks like two whole uncharted continents. And it looks like... No, that can't be.\"\n\n\"What is it Major? What do you see? Over.\"\n\n\"Lights. Like city lights. On the other continent.\"\n\n\"Major Tom, are you sure of what you're seeing? Over.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, I'm completely lucid. There's definitely lights coming from the other continents. But how is that... Ground Control, we have a problem. Radar indicating imminent collision. Requesting instruction.\"\n\n\"Collision? With what? A meteor? Over.\"\n\n\"Negative, it's a satellite.\"\n\n \"Major Tom, that's impossible. There are no German satellites in that area. We've confirmed that with them. Your radar must be malfunctioning.\"\n\n\"Negative, I see it from the windshield. I'm headed straight for it. There's no way I can divert my path in time. Tell my wife I love her.\"\n\n\"Major Tom, are you sure you can't avoid it? Over.\"\n\nBut there was no response.\n\n\"Come in Major Tom. Over.\"\n\n...\n\n\"Can you hear me Major Tom? Over.\"\n\n...\n\n\"I repeat: can you hear me Major Tom? Over.\"\n\n...\n\n\"Can you hear me Major Tom?\"" ]	3
	[WP] What these hands have done	[ "It is almost dark, it's stupid hot, stupid humid, I'm dirty, and everything is just... miserable. I've been on the trail, hiking my way to a better life for about 600 miles now, and my feet have blisters, my mosquito bites have mosquito bites on them, and all that I currently own in the world weighs 22.6 pounds, without the food or water and all of it reeks of Deet. And you know what the icing on the vividly imagined cake is right now? My hands have blisters from my trek poles. \n\nI keep opening and closing my hands as if stretching these blisters will make them go away, but they're right between my thumb and my index finger. I don't know if you've ever tried to brush your teeth with a blister there, but I'll spare you the details: don't bother. Come to think of it, don't bother untying your hiking boots, or zipping your tent, or pulling your pants down either. They all hurt. \n\nSpeaking of that, writing this all down in my ever-so-slightly soggy journal really hurts too. There's cicadas and tree peepers tonight. They're almost louder than my thoughts, but maybe that's just as well. All I've got is a long list of regrets to mull over. And I keep thinking about my hands.\n\nIt's been about my feet for 600 miles, keeping them dry and happy, but until recently, it was always my hands. My whole life it's been my hands.\n\nMy hands used to get a blueish green tinge to them, when I would play too much. My trumpet, an old Bach Strad, is losing its outer plating and the metal gives my skin that tinge after prolonged contact. Maybe that was why my hands smelled like old pennies all the way through college. \n\nAnd then, oh man, there was this one time. I was that loser of a music major you think of when you see the kid at Burger King slinging fries that looks totally miserable, and you just know they're regretting their career choice. And one time, I was scraping out the fryers on a quiet Sunday morning shift at the university center, and I slipped and dunked my hand in the fryer. We all had a good laugh, but shit did that hurt. \n\nAnd this was my other hand, but when I was real young, maybe seven? I don't know, I was in second grade, but I was chasing my older brother out through the front door because I wanted to do whatever he was doing, and I put my hand out for the door, and caught the glass pane, flat-palmed. And it shattered. To this day I have the scar on my wrist that makes me look like a suicide survivor. But I'm just a survivor of a childhood well-lived. My mom found glass shards in the front garden when she dug it up almost a decade later.\n\nYou know, my brother complained the whole way to NYC one time, when my mother dragged the entire family there for the NYS gymnastics championships. I competed. Bars had always been my favorite event, and I remember I ripped right on the flyaway. Right as I was letting go, boom, quarter sized piece of skin originating on one of my many callouses came right off. I got blood on my first place medal, and my mom has pictures of the whole thing. And the more important victory: my brother did not complain on the way home. \n\nI guess it's strange to think that my hands have done all these things with me. I am the same person through it all, and so is my body. Somehow, through all the injurious things I've done, my body has always healed. \n\nMy feet will survive this hike, just like my hands have survived all the stupid things I've put them through. And maybe I'll survive all the other shit I've put myself through too. If there's hope for my hands and feet, why not me?" ]	1
	[WP] We discover the travell to parallels Earths. Ours was the only one doesn't be destroyed by nuclear war on Cold War.	[ "The bar looks pretty tense, eh? This is one of those elections that turns people into evangelists. And for months you have to be real careful saying anything, even up here, for fear someone turns on you and starts proselytizing about the fucking laters taking all our jobs. It's not even our damned election. Oh, look at the TV. Everyone's looking. Now we get four years of this prick down south trying to build a bubble over the hole. Thing's, like, five hundred kilometers across. Idiots. And just look at him. Fuck, he loves the cameras on him. Twenty bucks says he films every jack-off session he ever has. \n\nLike, don't get me wrong here, I'm as sick of them as anyone else--well, not as sick as Mr. Green-Coat up there. Fucking fascist. But these laters need help, man. We can't just close the hole and forget about them. I think these Greenie people convince themselves that laters aren't real, you know? Like, they're video game characters you can mess around with and it doesn't matter. Put a garbage bin on their head while they're talking. Haha. Have you read about the gang rape? Yeah, man, wasn't laters. One of them was the victim. They just confirmed that. So who's the bad guy now? Turns out the sick fucks posted a video of it--they were our guys. I mean--no, I don't know for sure. No one does yet. But what kind of later manages to get an internet chip then wastes it filming themselves raping another later? It doesn't make any sense. If I got a chip, and I was one of them, I'd be trying to make money or something. \n\nGet this, alright. I drove down through Pennsylvania a week ago (fucking mistake, let me add, that place sucks) and while I was stuck in the traffic jams of hell I saw a lot of their little camps. They're hidden in the trees. You notice them when you're not moving and start looking around. You see the tents and the little shacks. Maybe the road noise helps hides them. It's, friggin', The Grapes Of Wrath out there. White ones, black ones, fucking asians (I dunno if they're called asians on the other side). Anyways, all of them in rags--and Penn's about as cold as it is up here this time of year. They all just look so... You just know, looking out through the trees, that people are dying in there. Right now. Right as I sit in my warm car. I haven't got any idea what to do with them all but I just... I can't send them back. Might as well kick a drowning man back in the water.\n\nDid see the hole though. It's something. You seen it? Only on TV. Yeah, I thought I'd seen it too but that doesn't do it justice at all. There's this visual effect to it. I mean, okay, so it's all shimmery columns and stuff, you know that, but, when you look into it it's deep, you know? Really deep. And all half-translucent and mirrory. And the colours! Like, uh, like you're looking through all these different windows but you can't really fix your sight on any of them. Reminded me a little bit of the northern lights. You seen those? Yeah, it's like that. That same kind of... Fuck, what's the word I'm looking fo--sublime! That's it. It's sublime. And fucking scary, too! All those sharp columns look like they'd dice you up. And who knows where you'd land. I wonder if the lab boys landed anywhere or if they just turned to plasma in the explosion. Actually, I heard they upped the estimated yield again. I wouldn't doubt it after going there. I was going east on 81, and down the 83, and there's nothing there. It's all burnt. And you get closer--must be a thousand square kilometers burnt. I was pretty far away looking at it. I can only imagine getting closer. They won't let you though. Radiation and all. But, like, go on a map and find Hampton and find Davidsburg. And everything between those two points? Gone. Like God swept the trees flat. And that's their whole world, right? The laters? They glassed the whole damned planet. \n\nI guess that's one thing to consider. What they did? Like, it's one thing to kill a bunch of people in a genocide or something but... when you kill a whole planet... Maybe there are some things you shouldn't forgive. 'Cause, you know, they let it happen, right? They didn't stand up or say anything. They just let other people deal with the problems and next thing you know the missiles are in the air. And we're the same people. They're not aliens. Could have been us just as soon. Almost was us. A few times. \n\nBut even so... a whole planet..." ]	1
	[WP] You wake up and find printed close up photos of you while you're sleeping. You live alone.	[ "I woke up to the sound of my alarm clock playing the local radio DJ chattering a line about celebrity couple. Rolling over to silence the horrid sound rousing my tranquil slumber, my arm extended out and letting it's own weight fall onto the snooze button. \"5 more minutes\",\nI say to myself as I roll back to where I was, disheveling the blankets. To my surprise, where there should be nothing but blankets, I feel something harder, and hear a shuffling of paper falling to the floor. My eyes open as the morning sunlight fills the room in hard lines against the drapes.\n\nI lift myself off of the seductive mattress beckoning me back to my dreams and find pages, once stacked in a pile, now knocked to the ground scattered on the carpeted floor. I reach down and pick up one of the papers, finding a green tinted picture of my face. I look at it, stunned and racking my memory of last nights events, until it hits me, my eyes widen in the shock. Someone else was, or is still here. I leap out of bed, throwing the papers still on the bed into the air as I fling the blanket off of my body, adrenaline coursing through me as fear takes hold. On autopilot I swing my body upright and jump to me feet, or so I thought I had. A numbing sensation tingles on my left foot as I fall sideways to the ground. I lay there stunned amongst pages and pages of photos of my face, my body, my hands, my legs. I look down laying on my stomach and see a bandaged stump where my left foot was.\n\nI scramble, my mind in a panic as I crawl into the corner, sitting up with my back to the wall. \"It doesn't hurt! Why doesn't it hurt?!\"\nI ask myself in my own mind again and again. tears running down my face as I've lost control in a state of panic. \"My Foot, where is my foot?\"\nI quietly repeat to myself in a need to know. A few minutes of panic and my breathing slows. I look around, and crawl over to my bed once again. Climbing on to it, I reach out and grasp desperately at my phone. \"Help, I need help!\" I say in my mind over and over hoping to get the panic at bay. I grab it and pull it to me, pulling the charger out of the wall socket. I unlock the phone, redoing my password several times from my shaking hands.\n\n9-1-1 I dial and hold the phone up to my ear, my breathing heavy and my body shaking. \"911, police, fire or ambulance?\" I hear over the headset. A wave of relief washes over me as I feel the connection of a person, a human being on the other end of the line. Help coming to me. \"all of them\" \nI reply loudly, before continuing my words leaving me as fast as I can rush them out, \"You have to help me, someone's cut off my foot! My fucking foot\"\n\"Ok, tell me where you are and what happened?\"\nThe call taker demands politely. I give her the information, tears building as I ramble out the story of how I woke. I finish my tale, and hear a slight moan over the line from the call taker. \"I love it when you tell me about my work baby!\"\nShe seductively coos to me over the line. \"Tell me again about the fall, I get so wet when I hear about the moment you realize.\"\nShe gloats in a sultry tone.\n\nI pull the phone away from me ear and stare at the screen, 9-1-1 reads on the display. Until I see it, my senses sharpened from fear. The line still open, I rip off the case of my phone, a folded piece of paper, the edge slightly sticking up. I unfold it, and look on. another photo, not of me, a woman, scantily clad in leather, rubbing herself with a severed foot, my foot. The black and white printed paper, drops from my hands, drifting to the floor. As it lay on the ground, I look down at it, in bright red lipstick, written were the words. \"9 nights left with mommy\"." ]	1
	[WP] Humanity has expanded into the stars. All was well, until a colony suddenly wanted to become independent. The government of Earth agrees, on the condition that they will no longer receive aid or supplies from Earth.	[ "The earthlings sat around an oak table in a meeting room. The video feed showed them talking amongst each other. The colonials were in their space station control center, made of cold blue metal. The colonials watched the earthlings on the large video monitor.\n\nEventually, a woman in a suit turned away from the other earthlings and started talking to the colonials.\n\n\"Okay,\" she said. \"You can leave, but that's it. You're not getting anymore stuff.\"\n\nThe space station control room erupted in cheers. The commander of the colony motioned for them to quiet down. Then she replied,\"Fine. We don't need your stuff.\"\n\n\"And naturally, Rychor IV.\"\n\nThe entire control room groaned. \"It's fine. It's okay,\" said the commander, motioning for them to shush. \"We don't need Rychor IV. But what about Rychor III?\"\n\n\"Rychor III?\" the earthling leader asked. She turned back to her group in the conference room. They spoke and whispers and came to agreement. Then the leader said,\"You can visit Rychor III every other weekend.\"\n\n\"That's bullshit!\" the colony commander slammed her fist. The entire control room booed at the earthlings. \"And what about Rychor II?\"\n\n\"Rychor II?\" the earthling leader raised her eyebrow. \"Oh, we don't need Rychor II,\" she smiled sweetly. \"... Seeing as we've already had Uranus.\"\n\nThe conference room cheered and started giving the earthling leader high fives over her shoulder. The colonials started booing again and throwing space objects at the screen. The commander gripped her forehead,\"Goddammit.\"\n\n\n", "Pioneering constituents of KELT-2ac,\n\nAfter over 50 years since the initial request, the Andromeda Galaxy Federation has received official word from the Solar System United Nations that KELT-2ac has finally achieved independence from the SSUN. It did take 45 years for the request itself to reach Earth, and thanks to the advancement in communications technology, the better part of five years for the answer to come back.\n\nNeedless to say our independence comes at a price, one that we all must pay regardless of how steep it is, and sacrifices will have to be made. The SSUN has granted us our wish on the sole condition that we can no longer expect any relief supplies from the solar system. This means our lives will have to change, and we will have to adapt. But if there is one thing I know about the population of KELT-2ac, it’s that we are resilient. We can bend, but never break. We can endure, but always remain determined.\n\nThis is why we survived the “65-AND Supernova Incident” of 4286 during which our entire electric infrastructure failed to function for over six months, bringing along civil unrest and years of restorative actions. It is also why we survived the 4358 drought that affected 35% of the surface of KELT-2ac and temperatures reached 75 degrees Celsius in many regions. It is also why we still stand after the meteor supershowers of 4379-80 that left us without any starlight for 14 months, and after the “Ultra Razor Badger” genetic experiment catastrophe of 4405. It is also why we prevailed after the fourth AI Jihad, back in 4413 (and I must stress and remind you that since then, we have kept our regulatory AI to the bare minimum of self-consciousness allowed to adequately perform the duties of our oxygen generation and supply management). \n\nSo after the numerous challenges we’ve faced together for over a century, I know you are ready for this next test of our unwavering focus as the newly independent nation of KELT-2ac, as the only independent nation of all of the Auriga Constellation, or even of the entire Andromeda Galaxy. Once again, you and I are pioneers. And as pioneers, we must now march forward into the unknown, far from creature comforts and cherished habits. \n\nHence it is with some chagrin that I announce the ransom for our independence; no longer will we receive any shipments of Hammer Pants or special edition coconut-flavoured Twinkies. Until we can produce our own, and stand on our own two-feet as a nation, I count on you to remain steadfast and strong. \n\nSteel your resolve for the hardships to come, my sisters and brothers, and long live the independent nation of KELT-2ac! \n", "The marshal's heavy hand thudded against the holodesk causing the blue-grey map to shimmer in static ripples.\n\nThere was silence among the conspirators in the senator's room. At least, as near as silence as could be found within the pre-fab walls of an outer colony where the generators hummed ceaselessly.\n\nThe carefully chosen group of men were supposed to argue. They were supposed to declare the idea preposterous. They were supposed to name the marshal a traitor and cast him into the black abyss. But they said nothing.\n\nAnd in that nothingness was assent; a rallying around their true and dangerous feelings.\n\nThe threat of independence from Earth was a bluff. Or it was supposed to be. Earth, rich in resources, had kept the outer planets on a short leash with slim rations and egregious taxation. The conspirators on Ajador V sought to use its manufacturing leverage for better treatment, but had been rejected by the leaders of Earth.\n\nEarth. Bountiful Earth. Decadant and pompous Earth. Seven and half billion people revelling in luxury and art and recreation paid for by the minerals and labor and hard science of the colony planets.\n\nEarth? Earth had become a parasite.\n\n\"No,\" the marshal repeated, his voice on the verge of a whisper. \"We don't need Earth to give us their aid and their supplies.\"\n\nAll eyes in the room were set on his, all steady with conviction. And the marshal's voice rose to a war cry: \"We'll take it all from them!\"", "The Commissioner was about to adjudicate the session; the gavel in her hand was already raised high. “Any other business?” she remembered to ask. The Core Worlds had already been through all of their agenda items, and that was generally all that mattered. The perfunctory question at the end was never meant to elicit a response, and true to form the mass of Core representatives shook their heads.\n\nThe representative from Menoetius stood from his seat in the very back. With a population of only 2 million, the unremarkable rock’s only distinction was being the furthest-flung colony in the Coalition of Allied Worlds. For a moment, no one even realized he had stood up until an aide brought it to the attention of the Commissioner.\n\n“Yes…. Ah…” The Commissioner squinted, trying to read the nameplate from all the way at the front of the Commission chambers. She waved a hand and the podium’s computer brought up the name for her, as well as a whole sheet of information about the world. “Yes, a query from the representative of Menoetius? Mr. Loquos?”\n\nHe began the long walk down the steps toward the Commissioner’s podium. In his hands, the other representatives were surprised to see real old fashioned papers in his hands. “Not so much a query,” he told her, “as a statement.” The papers thunked down on the table in the center of the room. With an electronic submission everyone could pull up the text of it immediately, but in physical form it was a mystery. “The world of Menoetius hereby withdraws from the Coalition.”\n\nChaos reigned. The representatives of Earth and Mars stood from their seats and thrust outraged fingers into the air, shouting “You can’t do that!” in boisterous tones, while the representatives of the belt and the outer worlds were whispering “Can you do that?” with eager excitement.\n\nThe Commissioner, gavel still in hand, hammered away for order instead of closing the meeting. Once she managed to lower the chatter to a more reasonable volume, she gave a pointed glare to the Menoetian representative and pulled up a section of the Colonial Assistance Act. “Representative Loquos, need I remind you that you forfeit all food aid under 58 C.A.W.C. § 511? Your world will be cut off.”\n\n“And embargoed!” the leader of Earth’s Libertarian Party roared. Normally stricken with bitter partisan divides, the rival Earth parties joined in a chorus of agreement. “You’ll starve within the year!”\n\nFood was always how the Central Planets kept their grip on the outlying colonies. Even with 20 billion inhabitants, Earth was still a net exporter of staple crops like wheat and rice. And Mars, with its vast open fields, was one of the few places in the universe where natural meat was still raised. Venus's greenhouses were mostly used for the production of more tropical products like fresh fruits. The export of hydroponic technology and even some terraforming was strictly forbidden.\n\nIn the mining colonies around Ceres, the gas scoopers on Saturn, and the extra-solar settlements, you were luckily to get a pasty protein block once a week. Most people joked that it was the ground-up-and-dehydrated remains of a core world meal; they didn't know how right they really were. Some of it was made from real food… but that was diluted with cellulose, vitamin mash, and a heaping dose of artificial flavors. The “food aid” from Earth was just enough to keep them alive and dependent while ensuring that the colonies could still send back ore and other raw materials that had long been stripped from Earth. \n\n“We’re aware of the consequences,” Representative Loquos said. “And we’d rather starve on our own than eat under your thumbs.” But then he waved his own personal device over the projector and brought up images of the colony on Menoetius, revealing row after row of greenhouses gleaming under the light of its blue dwarf star. “Luckily that won’t be the case.” He turned back to the other assembled representatives, looking past the Core delegates in the front to the members of the outer-world delegations. “And we’ve got enough to share with anyone who feels the same.”\n\nThe room was filled with a pregnant pause. Both the Menoetian and the Commissioner sweated, waiting for any other delegation to take up that offer. The outer planet delegates glanced back and forth, none wanting to be the first. Finally, a representative from Jupiter’s moon Metis climbed to his feet with the assistance of a powered suit; he was nearly 100 years old, and those old bones weren’t used to Earth gravity. But his grin couldn’t have been more enthusiastic.\n\n“TREASON!” A particularly loud and overweight Venutian proclaimed. That didn’t stop more and more outer world representatives from rising out of their chairs until nearly half of the back rows were on their feet. Even some of the Lunar representatives were standing; without many natural resources, they were considered an unimportant backwater by the more verdant worlds. \n\nA representative from Earth rose to her feet and shouted over the crowd till she finally got the attention of the Commissioner. “I would like to bring an action for a military response to sedition on Menoetius and…” she glanced back to see who else she was proposing to invade, only to find that there were too many, “And all of these other places!”\n\nRepresentative Loquos shrugged. “Have you forgotten that your largest shipyards are in the asteroid belt?” He asked with a nod to the Ceres Coalition members who were standing. “Or that you rely on Saturn and Jupiter to make and refine fuel for your ships? Or that you rely on us for a thousand other raw materials that you’ll need just to continue going about your every day lives?” He strode back up the aisle and toward the broad doors at the back of the chamber. “I’m afraid that you need us more than we need you.” \n\nWith that, he left the Commission chambers with the delegations of a hundred other colonies at his back.\n" ]	4
	[WP] Lying doesn't exist; everyone tells the truth. Though people are more aggressive and easily upset.	[ "\"Does this dress make me look fat?\" My Wife asked me.\n\n\"Just a little bit, I think the one with a pattern makes you look a bit slimmer.\" I responded truthfully.\n\n\"How could you..I hate you! You insensitive jerk!\" She yelled at me.\n\n\"I'm sorry I offended you but you asked and I honestly responded to you my love.\"\n\n\"Hmmf!\" She exhaled in dislike.\n\n\"Well, how about I treat you to a nice dinner as my apology\" I offered her.\n\n\"That sounds nice\" \n\n\"Where would you like to go?\" I asked\n\n\"I don't know\" \n\n\"The fuck you mean I don't know? Everytime I suggest a place you don't like it\" I said heated\n\n\"I don't want to look like a fatty choosing something I enjoy!\" She yelled back at me.\n\n\"You already look like a fatty! Just choose a damn place!!\" I screamed back at her\n\n\"Fine! Let's go get BBQ ribs! And fries, and onion rings and bread and brisket!!\" She yelled loudly at me.\n\n\"Awesome, thats why I married you, my love. Lets go.\" I said smiling. \n\n\"And lots of BBQ sauce?\"\n\n\"But of course my love.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Every night before you sleep, you talk with your reflection in the mirror about your day. Today, your reflection is bloodied and beaten, but you are perfectly fine.	[ "\"Oh MY GOD, what happened to you?!\"\nMy reflection has an expression of pure horror, as he sits opposite me in the mirror, ragged and blood-soaked. As soon as he appears in my mirror and recognises me, he lurches toward the mirror.\n\"HELP! GET ME THROUGH!\" he shouts, clawing at the mirror from the other side, like a fly outside the windshield. I jolt from my chair, bracing for the impact of his - my - body, but of course ha can't get through.\n\"What are you d...? Who's that?!\" I point at someone in the shadows, behind my reflection. When he sees me pointing, his eyes widen to their maximum, and he turns around.\nThe figure lurches at him, with inhuman speed. I catch a glimpse of a black body, and long, sharp talons.\nMy reflection trips, falling under the mirror's level, so I can't see them. I find myself backed up against the wall at the other end of the room. I can only hear his shouts, the exact sounds I would make. The figure rises, its black body sprayed with blood. It stares at me through the frame, even though it has no face. A teardrop falls down my cheek.\nHe graps the two sides of the frame with his bloody talons, stepping out of he wall." ]	1
	[WP] You wake up one morning to find everybody gone without a trace. After days of freaking out, you decide to continue on with life as normal to avoid insanity. You go to school, work, etc. just as you normally would... but it's so different all alone.	[ "There is no one else. Sometimes I am not sure that there ever was. All those people that I knew, were they ever really there? It seems to me that they must not have been, now that they are not here. And if they had been, it wouldn't matter. Life goes on. There are routines, and they must be adhered to. Really, it is easier now, that I am alone, than it ever was when everyone was here. The crowded and disorganized reality I lived in has been replaced by the peaceful loneliness of life. It seems that my world has shrunk and yet become all the more larger, through my being the only one left here to experience it. I have freedom now. Everything can be put in its place. Each small piece of the world has its place, and now they stay there. There is no one left to ruin the perfection I am slowly building.\n\n\nIn the office building, my desk stays neat. The ruler is positioned exactly 3 centimetres from the edge of the desk. Now, in fact, every desk has a ruler on it. And they are all placed beautifully, and perfectly and artistically. All 3 centimetres from the edge of the desk. The world of skyscrapers and cars that line the distance and loom large in the periphery of my world are slowly dying. The great buildings crumble, and nature slowly reclaims what was always its own. Metal rusts, and wood rots. But my house stays perfect, just as it ever was, and the short walk to work stays clean and neat, and the grass stays trimmed, and the office stays neat. And my world becomes all the more beautiful for its perfection.\n\n\nThe awful truth of the matter is, despite being alone, I am happy.\n\n\n------------------------------------------------------------\nlol sorry that was bad" ]	1
	[WP] Whenever you have to make a decision, you watch numbly as your personified emotions fight over who is in control each time. Today you find yourself on a bridge - you came here with the intent to jump.	[ "\n\n\n\nCharmaine Tower. Broad Street. Up the road. 1st and 9th. Interstate 27. Screeeecccchhh! The bridge. I got out of the car, my hair still damp from my walk from work to the taxi. I felt like that was all my life was anymore. A short walk that everyone could just go without. I looked around, but everything was blurry. From my own tears or the rain I couldn't tell. A car hummed by, not to fast, but fast enough that I knew if it hit me, I'd be dead. And what if It did hit me wouldn't that have just been easier. It was to late now, this bridge hardly got any traffic anyways. That would probably be the last car for the next hour. I turned my eyes back to the bridge. The wet pavement scraping under my feet as I walked slowly edge. I took the step up onto the sidewalk, my long black uniformed coat brushing against my leg. That's when I started to hear the noise, I peered over the delicately carved hand rail, looking into the black abyss that I knew to be water. The gargling of it moving over the rocks calmed me. I lodged one leg into the groove of a fish mouth carved into the railing, then placed my other foot on top of a mermaids head. Until, with my arms that had only known sorting files for the last five years. I hoisted myself up on the top of the wall. It was large, maybe two feet wide, but from this height I still felt like I would fall at the slightest touch. Thats when, for the second time that night, I heard the sound of rubber on pavement. I turned around. Two cars had stopped not ten feet from where I was. Could they see me, I hoped not but I couldn't be sure. There was only one thing to do, I turned towards the bridge to jump, but as I lifted up my legs to plunge into the water, they didn't comply. I tried to open my mouth to scream, but I couldn't do that either. That's when the figures stepped out of there identical all black sedans, and my heart sunk into my stomach. It was them. I should have known. I hadn't seen them since I was 21, when I asked my wife to marry me. I wish I had my wife now, why had the world been so cruel as to take her away. I knew what they were here to do, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. Appearing from the dark, the first man stepped into the light of a nearby lamp post, and I finally saw him clearly. He looked exactly like me, right down to the birth mark under his, my, left eye. The only difference was the long beard he had grown out, his torn clothes, and haggard face, but that wasn't what truly set him and I apart, it was the complete look of sorrow and depression he had in his eyes. He had given up on everyone and everything in this world, and he truly believed everything had given up on him. I knew all this, because when I looked at him, I saw a part of me. It was the emotion of abandonment, except it was no longer an emotion, it was a person. That was when the man from the other car stepped under the waning street light. He like his predecessor looked exactly like me in physical appearance, but that was where are similarities ended. For one thing, he was smiling. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd smiled, but somehow it still looked good on my face. He was dressed in a suit, but was wearing it the same way dads do when they return home from work. That is, very nonchalant. He beamed with happiness, and that was exactly who he was. Happiness. I still sometimes saw him surface inside me, but not nearly as much as he used to. They turned and shook each other's hands as if they had never met before. \n\n\n\"I'm happiness\" said happiness cheerfully and almost childishly. \n\n\"That sucks\" muttered Abandonment, he sounded like an old man on his death bed. \n\nThen happiness once again chimed in. \"Have we met before, because I feel like I know you. Oh wait, I know why. You're me! Well not me exactly, we are both him it's just that we aren't really him at all, we're one part of him, but same difference. It really doesn't make sense when you think about it. Regardless, we need to make a decision!\" \n\"It's simple. He jumps. I mean why not right, what else is here for him. You know what's up there, the one thing that really cared for us. Mary. The love of my life.\" \n\nThe more he talked, the closer I leaned toward the edge. By the time he stopped, my toes were completely over the water, but I still watched helpless. There was nothing I could do. \n\nThat's when happiness took back control. \"What about the sunsets, the rainy days. The hot chocolate after going outside. All of those things that make us feel so good.\" As he talked. I inched back towards solid ground.\"\n\n\"Sure those things make you happy, but life's not about your happiness it's about others and you don't make any one else happy. You're just a waste of space! Jump, and no one would miss you.\" Abandonment was winning. I was moving closer to the edge. \n\n\"What about Mary! She would miss me,\" happiness cried out in a vain.\n\n\"She's dead, and you should be to.\" \nAbandonment said, with a tear in his eye. I felt my feet slip. Nothing was left touching the railing but the heels off my shoe and I tumbled over the edge. People say when you're about to die, your life flashes before your eyes, and that's the truth. I saw my 12th birthday, when my mom baked me a power rangers themed cake, and the day I got my first car. I saw the day I got my first job, and the day I met Mary. When I saw her, something finally clicked. She wouldn't want me to die! I had to live. At least for her, but it was to late. I closed my eyes. However, instead of splashing into the frigid water like I expected. I hit the slick pavement with a cold thud. I opened up my eyes, was I in heaven? No. I was still on the bridge. I cried tears of joy. I must have somehow overpowered my own emotions. After all, they didn't control me, I controlled me. I looked over to wear the two figures once stood, but I only saw one. It was happiness. He smiled, waved at me, and climbed into his black Sedan. Driving away down the bridge.", " \"This world has treated us like trash! We have no reason to stay here any longer!\" A shout filled with pure rage came from my left.\n \"Yeah, I agree. There's nothing fun in this world any longer.\" A barely audible voice came from behind me.\n \"I think you all are overreacting. We don't know what awaits us after we die. It could be even worse.\" This voice was shaky, hesitant in itself.\n \"Think of all the good times you've had! Don't let those two drag you down! Is jumping really going to make you happier in the end?\" One more voice said, this one sounding like a bright and peppy little child.\n \"SHUT UP!\" I screamed and closed my eyes, slamming my fists into my own head. Pain shout through my head as a result and temporarily silenced the voices. This happened every single time. Every single time I tried to do ANYTHING, no matter how insignificant it was. Whether it was deciding what to eat, or deciding what the correct answer on the test was, these four voices had to duke it out in my head, each telling me to do something different.\n My earliest memory of the voices came from when I was around four. My mom had made a dozen of cookies and had only allowed me to eat one. But the taste of the cookie was so flavorful and strong, that I began to consider eating another one against her wishes. As I reached my hand out, a voice suddenly entered my head. \"Wait! Mommy will be mad if we eat another one!\"\n I whipped my head around, trying to figure out where it came from, but all I saw was a version of myself, crouched low to the ground and glancing nervously around. Nobody saw this person but me, so I instinctively knew it was an illusion.\n \"But it tastes good!\" I whipped my head around again, and this time my eyes settled on a smiling, bouncing version of myself. This version of myself began to point excitedly at the cookies.\n By the time the two had finished arguing, my mom had already put the cookies away. My body couldn't move while they were arguing. At first it felt like time had frozen, but that wasn't the case. Time flowed normally, so all everyone saw was me standing there with a blank expression on my face.\n From that day on, voices and versions of myself materialized in my head whenever a situation occurred. It was always a set of emotions that pertained to the dilemma at hand. At first, it was a minor inconvenience. But as I grew up, and more important choices were offered to me, it became a serious problem. Every single time I thought about doing something, a whole assembly of me's came around to discuss it. I was never able to get anything done because they never, ever decided on anything. Usually, I'd lose my time to act and the decision would just fall to those around me. \n Slowly, this caused my life to fall into disarray, as I could never decide anything. My parents took me to the doctor, and I was diagnosed with Aboulomania, a pathological indecisiveness. Then the therapy began. But it didn't help. The problem only became worse. Eventually I could never even get a word out of my mouth, due to the debate between my emotions on which word to say.\n And that's what brings me here, on the edge of this bridge, preparing to jump. My hope was that in death the voices would finally stop arguing. It was rare that I even had this much time to think to myself.\n \"Guys, I think I know what the real problem is.\" I had spoken too soon. Another voice popped up. At this point, I didn't even bother looking at them when they spoke or try and figure out what emotion they were.\n \"Yeah. The problem is obvious, and the solution even more so.\" A different voice chimed in. I let out a sigh, mentally preparing myself for the argument over what the problem and solution was. But what I heard next was the most surprising occurrence in my life.\n \"Yes.\" All the voices spoke in unison. For the very first time, they were agreeing on something. It felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, and my mind began to clear itself. I looked around to see all the different versions of myself all jumping off the bridge around me. Some smiled as they plummeted. Others cursed the heavens. A few seemed to not care. And one was crying hysterically.\n I blinked and rubbed my eyes. What was happening? Soon all of them were gone, as if they had never been there. The raging sea that was my mind was as motionless as a pond. Soon I found myself smiling and stepping down from the ledge. There was no need to jump off anymore.\n And ever since that day, I was finally able to make my own decisions.\n\nFirst Reddit Post. I'm not sure how the formatting works, so sorry for any errors regarding that\n\n\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP]Over ten years you and three friends contribute $20 each into a lottery pool every two weeks. One day the guy in charge of money and tickets asks, “How much do you think we’ve spent the past ten years?” Grinning, he raises a bank statement with $20,800 written on it and says “What should we do?”	[ "\"That can't be right,\" I said.\n\n\"Do the math,\" Frank said. \"We contributed $80 total every other week. There's 520 weeks in ten years, which means 260 two-week periods. 260 times 80 is $20,800.\"\n\n\"You realize what this means,\" I said.\n\nFrank nodded grimly.\n\n\"Someone's been skimming off the interest,\" I said.\n\nFrank just nodded in agreement. \"What are you going to do?\"\n\n\"Get the gang together,\" I said. \"It's time to collect.\"" ]	1
	[WP] The protagonist and the antagonist fight for the love of the narrator.	[ "Scott looked up into the sky, knowing that everything he said or did was being created by something. A something he wanted to love more, know more of, and actually see it, or her, or him even. Was it a God? He didn't know. It was more like a creator; almost like a writer of the world he currently is seeing. For his story does not make any logical sense. \n\n\nScott turns his arm toward his eyes and sees that his clock's date has changed from 1994 to 1980. He looks around him at the sanctuary that is the forest. The wild. He has always wanted to be a human in a strange world. A place he doesn't belong. He always has tamed the wild. Until it killed him. \n\n\nHe still has his backpack and ice axes from that terribly climbing event long ago. Actually it is technically in the future, but he hasn't tasted the fresh air in a long, long time. \n\n\nAs he stares up into the sky of his world, an Earth long ago. At least long ago to him since he shouldn't be alive. He fell. It was a long fall. Twenty years in the future actually; to his death. He can't remember if he purposely jumped or fell? Either way it didn't matter since here he is. He was in an abyss for who knows how long until he appeared here, in a forest just off of a trail he knows well. It is in the Rocky Mountains in Montana. \n\n\nScott knows that this Creator made him go back to his past. Why though? Was it to make different choices? Was it to feel love instead of the self hating froth of his mentality that is his future mind? He does not know. Life is a privilege; until it is vague and mysterious. Scott thanks the forest for his breadth, for his life and opens his arm wide to the sky and thanks the Creator for their gift. \n\n\nScott is still staring up at the sky when he hears her. \n\n\n\"GOD I LOVE YOU!\" Shan screams this at the top of her lungs; falling to a kneel. She is in an enclosed forest area just up the mountain. Scott sees barely an outline of her, but he knows that voice all too well. He cringes. He used to love this woman. He used to care for her, but the future teaches him that all he has left in his heart is pain. For her and life itself. She leaves him when he needed her most. Took their son and ran. \n\n\nScott isn't bitter or hateful towards her; just hurt. That pain is oddly still fresh in his heart. The death of their first son is still fresh in his mind. He sees the I.V.'s hooked up to him. His frail body being pumped full of toxic chemicals.... He shakes his head to not linger on those thoughts. \n\nScott moves toward her. He marches up the hill toward the opening in the forest that Shan is kneeling. He pushes past branches, bushes and the occasional spider web. She is chanting her love to this God she has always clinged onto. He remembers her reading scriptures and giving him note cards with Bible verses on them. He always threw them away. \n\n\n\"I am sorry Creator.\" He regrets doing that now.\n\n\nThe closer he gets to Shan the more nervous he gets. Scott is still harboring the dark feelings of that day he died, and he doesn't want to hurt her or himself. He remembers climbing the mountain alone as his son and wife left for Washington. He cried at the edge of a cliff and then he....... Scott shakes his head again. He keeps walking toward the blurry figure of his ex-wife or current wife; he doesn't know where they stand.\n\n\nScott finally sees what Shan is bowing to. It is a large beast of some mythical origin. It has the fur and body of a grizzly bear. Scott takes a step back at the sight of this beast. It also has the coloring, fingers, and head of an orangutan. The Mythical Beast has the hooves and skin of a hippo. It is a strange and awe inspiring sight to see. The beast doesnt speak, and stands on its hippo hooves. It doesnt need to speak though, for there is a feeling of power in this opening. A beautiful circular patch of grass, flowers, and small furry squirrels and rabbits that remind him of his son's favorite animals to chase after on small infant legs. \n\nScott enters the opening.\n\n\nShan stops worshiping the creature. Slowly stands up and turns to face Scott. She looks astonished, worried, and sad all at the same time. They stand there feeling emotions long forgotten. For a while nothing is said until they decide to settle on the emotion of anger.\n\n\n\"What are you doing here Scott?\" She says this with confident anger as if Scott left her or cheated on her. \n\n\n\"I want life. I want my son.\" He pauses and looks down at the ground. The thought of his son that is alive or will be consumes his mind. \"This creature is from the Creator! That much is apparent! I feel the power and I'm alive again! I will not go back to the abyss!\" His voice is slightly shaky since he cant remember the last person he talked to in the last thousand years or was it a hundred?\n\n\nShan backs up and spreads her hands wide, parallel with her hips as if she is going to cast a spell. Palms facing the Mythical Beast. \n\n\n\"Your time is done! We are done! I want to see Sammy again, he is up there somewhere! The Creator sent their herald to bring me to see my son again! I know it!\" Her voice is cracked with emotions. \n\n\nScott sees that this won't end civilly. He walks towards her. Keeps walking slowly towards her with his fists clenched. As he is in striking distance, Shan is shaking with preparation of a blow or a yell. Scott chooses to not engage her further. He moves to the side and tries to get closer to the Beast. Shan attacks him wildly, but Scott isn't phased. He is too strong and keeps walking. \n\n\"Mighty Beast! Mighty Creator!\" His voice is strong and clear despite the sound of fists pounding hard muscles and bones. \"Let me see my boys again! Take Shan back to her son in the future! I just want to know they are okay!\" \n\n\nShan slips off of Scott's back and crumbles to the ground crying. \"You always got what you wanted! You got an easy death, an easy way out of life! You had the chance to see Sammy again!\" \n\n\nThis stung Scott to the core, pierced his heart and pushed out his innards with emotion. Adrenaline pumping through his body; he loses control. \n\n\n\"WHAT!? I lost my first son to Cancer. Sammy was everything to us. It killed us to see him slowly die. Isaac came into the world and we had nothing left to give. I didn't and neither did you! How dare you say those things! You took Isaac from me at my weakest. I NEEDED you both!\" His shouts are ever increasing in sound. \"You do not know the suffering the afterlife had for me! It was nothing! All I had was the memory of Sammy and Isaac to cling to! You know nothing of torture!\"\n\n\nShan takes the shouts likes a blast of unstoppable wind. She waits for a pause returns Scotts shouts with her own. They both continue to yell for who should get the power of the mythical beast. The Herald of the Creator. As they fight, spit and snot berating each others faces, words piercing hearts; they do not notice the Herald calmly and slowly stripping a tree of bark. Silently it writes a note to them both. \n\n\nShan hits Scott in the face. Scott can't take the physical abuse anymore. They never used to hit each other; even when Sammy died. He slaps her. Hard. She falls to the ground. The silence echos in their ears with rings and breaths \n\n\nScott turns to talk to the Herald to only see that it is gone. A ghostly figure now. He screams, \"NO!\" and rushes toward where it stood. He crumbles to the ground defeated. Shan gets up and is standing next to him just as self hating and anguished. Scott smells the fresh scent of a tree uncovered. He knowsthis smell well to avoid emotional bears or buffalo. He turns to his left and sees the note written into the tree a few paces away. They both walk towards it and read it in their minds. The note is far more important than their bickering and fighting.\n\n\nDear Scott and Shan,\n\nWhat you were seeking was indeed me, the Mythical Beast, that was in front of you. This note is from the Creator of this world.\n\nListen.\n\nThe Herald\n\nThe writing continued down the trunk of the tree, but this writing is vastly different it looks like actual writing with a pen instead of scratches on the wood. Scott has tears forming in his eyes as he reads the next letter. \n\n\nDear Parents,\n\nI have the power of writing. I narrated your lives. I put you in this world. My Herald was an observer to see if you deserved to see me or Sammy. I couldn't write us into this world. We can't see you as you are. I have my differences with my Mom, but I never got to know you, Dad. I was hoping for you to see that life is better together, but as a foolish child I was hoping for perfection in an imperfect world. \n\n\nI wish you both the best in this world. I will give you everything you need, except our presence. \n\n\nI hope you both can heal. Both of you lost us, and I hope we can regain our relationship. In the future. We will see you again if you can heal. That is what we need and what you both need.\n\nIn love,\n\nIsaac, The Creators Writer.\n\nScott reads the letter again and again. \n\n\nAfter a long time Scott and Shan turn to each other. They stare into each others emotional eyes far longer than they thought was possible. They talk. They run. They discover. They don't see hope until they see the process of grieving and healing begin. ", "My phone had been constantly buzzing from Jimmy’s texts and David’s calls. I had been purposely avoiding them for about a week now, staying inside my apartment to be sure. Wouldn’t want to risk running into either of them. A few quick trips to the corner store for cigarettes and wine were the only thing breaking up the lonely monotonous seclusion. I met both of them on Tinder, of course, and slept with both of them a couple of times. Jimmy was a nice guy, caring and thorough, while David was kind of a dick, rough and careless. They both started acting way too intense way too quickly though, and I had to get some distance. Of course they both turned out to be fucking crazy. \n\nThe doorbell rang. I had called for Chinese food and in my equally starving and shitfaced state ran to open the door even though I had placed the order no more than five minutes ago. The guy standing outside was carrying flowers, not Chinese food, and I let out an audible sigh when I saw Jimmy’s dumb fucking doe-eyed face. “Is your phone dead?”, he asked. “What do you think?” I wanted him to figure out for himself how stupid he was acting, so he would feel the shame coming from within. “Mind if I come in?” he asked, apparently arriving at the wrong conclusion concerning the status of my phone. “I’ve ordered some food but you can stay until it arrives”, I conceded. I sat down and resumed work on my pack of cigarettes and box wine, and he kept staring at me until finally asking “how have you been?”. “Terrific, fantastic, great” I said without looking away from the TV. \n\nThe doorbell rang again, and I told Jimmy it was time to go, that this had to be my food. The disappointment when I opened and saw David’s horrible face was immeasurable. “Brought you flowers”, he said and pushed his way into the hallway. “You brought me a single rose, dickhead” I said. “That’s not flowers, that’s something you found lying on the street on your way over here.” “Does it matter? Wait, who the fuck is this?” he asked as he saw Jimmy. “I’m Jimmy, we’re dating” he replied. God fucking damn it. I was going to deny it, but I saw in David’s face where this was going. I sat back down on the couch, poured myself a new glass of wine and lit another cigarette while watching two of the most pathetic men I had ever met wrestle each other in my hallway. The doorbell rang again, probably the food this time. “Will one of you get that?”, I yelled. \n", "“You cannot win!” shouted Heloise, “We have cut down your dragon, defeated your general, and captured your bodyguards. Your plot is over. Come with us now.” She wiped her sword on the tunic of a fallen goblin, then held it menacingly forward.\n\nYsabel replied from her throne, “Ha, it is hardly that simple. You have accomplished nothing. You helped me remove myself of an overly-ambitious commander who was slowly turning my dragon to revolt against me. I could have easily crushed them myself, of course, but now I don’t even have to take the blame for it. And in the process, you’ve delivered yourselves straight into my fortress, so I don’t even have to take the effort of finding you. And did you think I’d really only have four bodyguards?”\n\nShe waved her arm and out of the shadows behind her throne stepped three dozen men in black armor. Heloise and the other four travelers formed a small defensive perimeter as they stared down the new threat.\n\n“How are you going to get us out of this one, Rob?” said Heloise to me.\n\n“I don’t know,” I replied, “I just liked the idea of having an epic fight in her throne room. I’ll probably edit that part later so they sound more menacing. Although I guess black armor is pretty cliché.”\n\nHeloise replied, “Okay, well, I trust you to figure something out,” as she twirled her sword around.\n\n“Ha, you’re not going to get out of this!” shouted Ysabel, “This story is clearly one where the villain wins. Why else would Rob have made me so smart? I’m honestly just cooler than you, Heloise. The readers are all going to want me to win.” She produced a small burst of fire from her hand, to prove her point.\n\nHeloise answered, “I know Rob’s better than that. He’s a good person. He’s not just going to let you win after everything you’ve done.”\n\n“Really, Rob? You know that’s not true. If you were a good person, you wouldn’t have written me as positively as you did. I’m the archetype of the dark enchantress that you’ve always been fascinated with.”\n\n“That’s not true, Ysabel! A story needs a good villain. But you’re nothing more than a villain,” shouted Heloise.\n\n“But Rob wants me to win. He likes me more. You’re boring. You’re a clichéd do-gooder. Rob’s read enough to be sick of boring endings where the hero saves the world every time.”\n\n“He doesn’t like you more. If he did, why would he make you the villain?” asked Heloise.\n\n“On the contrary, he made me the villain because he likes me more. Right?” replied Ysabel with a smirk.\n\nI answered, “I don’t know. I’m…I’m thinking.”\n \n“Wait,” said Heloise as she blinked her eyes, “You actually don’t know if I’m going to win? But, I thought…I just…” She lowered her sword.\n\n“Ha!” laughed Ysabel. “Did you really think anything else? I’m the kind of woman he wants. Dark and beautiful.”\n\n“I didn’t say that either,” I answered, “I’m just saying that I don’t know what kind of ending my readers would enjoy. Nothing else.”\n\nYsabel replied, “We both know that’s not true. You gave me mild psychic powers, remember? I’m the culmination of your desires. You know you love me.”\n\nHeloise added, “Oh come on, Rob, are you really going to tell me that I’m not vaguely based on Kate who lived across the hall from you junior year, the girl who you thought was too good for you because she was so smart and cool and pretty and athletic? You became great friends, but nothing more.”\n\n“Wait, I didn’t give you psychic powers…” I mumbled.\n\nShe continued, “Are you really going to throw all of that away because of some weak ‘bad girl’ fetish?”\n\n“I…stop…” I whispered.\n\nYsabel replied, “You know you love me more, Rob. And besides, you moved past Kate, right?”\n\n“I did. I found someone else.” I covered my eyes with my hand.\n\nHeloise stepped in and said, “You found Jenny.”\n\n“She was wild and lively and our wedding was the best day of my life.” A single tear of mine dripped onto the table.\n\n“But then you saw the texts,” said Heloise. \n\n“So many years gone in an instant,” I said to no one. More tears fell.\n\n“Which of us do you love?” asked Ysabel, “The ideal that you never reached, or the mystery that tore you apart?”\n\nI stayed silent, unable to speak. So they spoke for me.\n\nHeloise said, “Then, don’t make the choice now.”\n\nYsabel replied, “Maybe you don’t need either of us right now.”\n\n“Maybe there’s more than us two.”\n\n“Stop sitting alone in here. It’s been two months since the papers were finalized.”\n\n“Go to a coffee shop or a library. Find other people.”\n\n“Go live life.”\n\n“And make sure you delete this chapter before sending it to your editor.”\n\nSometimes you write for others. Sometimes you write for yourself. I wiped my eyes and stood up, grabbing my laptop as I left." ]	3
	[WP] "If it was one big joke, it sure felt like hell; if it was hell, it sure felt like one big joke."	[ "\"You know why you're here right?\"\n\nGary sat at the table, and shrugged. His eyes were wide, his heart pounded hard in his thin chest. He faced a man in a white suit, white shirt and blue tie. He had a short white beard, with glasses half-way down his nose.\n\n\"Relax,\" the man continued, waving his hand. \"This isn't an interrogation. We're just going to talk.\" Gary nodded, and looked at the wooden table... a single folder sat in the center. Had it always been there? Had the table even been wood this whole time? The man in the suit picked it up and began to flick through the various pages.\n\n\"Gary McFee. Born in Blackpool, moved to the United States at 14. Parents were Horace McFee and Bethany O'Brien... didn't take the last name it seems.\" \n\nGary shuffled in his chair. \"Am I going...\"\n\n\"Shhhh...\" the man silenced Gary. \"Let me get through this. Need to go through your record.\" The man thumbed through a couple more pages. \"We've got, nearsighted, partially deaf in one ear, married twice... oh that's funny... stand-up comedian. You're a comic... stage fright is so unlike those in your profession, but you're positively quaking in your boots.\"\n\n\"Yeah... yeah I am.\"\n\n\"Tell me a joke.\" The man said eagerly. \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"A joke. Tell me a joke,\" the man repeated.\n\nGary breathed heavily and thought for a moment. \"Um... I asked God for a bike, but I realized he doesn't work that way... so umm... so I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.\"\n\n\"You also stole that joke Gary,\" the man in white said sternly.\n\n\"Look,\" Gary jittered, \"I need to know where I am. I'm feeling really uncomfortable right now.\"\n\nThe man sighed, and continued to pick through more of the folder. \n\n\"Are you listening to me?\" Gary yelled while as the man in white continued to flick through. He stopped at a single page.\n\n\"It says here you're an Atheist... is that why you're so nervous?\" \n\nGary gulped hard and froze.\n\nThe man took off his glasses. \"Look we're an understanding bunch. Not everything you did was good, but you pass for all the laughs you've given.\"\n\nGary stopped shaking in his chair. He already knew the answer to his next question. \"So... where am I?\"\n\nThe man in white looked at him cheekily \"I'll give you a hint: Why did the chicken cross the road?\"" ]	1

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