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[WP] You have died. Much to your surprise, you don't find yourself in heaven or hell. Instead, you are driving along a dark desert highway, cool wind in your hair.
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[
"I jolt up and grip the steering wheel tightly, I'd just witnessed the last few moments of my life yet here I am gripping the familiar steering wheel of the family car. \n\nMy wife asleep beside me in the passenger seat and our baby girl asleep in the backseat. I feel at peace and hopeful. I haven't felt this way in a long time. Work has been hard but I always left work behind as soon as I stepped across the threshold. I wanted to be the perfect husband and father. \n\nIt's a dark rainy night, we're on our way to visit family for Thanksgiving. I'm looking forward to seeing my parents, my brothers, my sisters and their kids too. We don't spend much time together anymore, it'll be nice to catch up. I can't wait to share the news, we've got another addition to the family on the way. They'll be so thrilled.\n\nWe've been on the road for hours. \n\nIt's late. \n\nMy eyes are heavy. Every blink brings me closer to sleep. \n\nA bend in the road is coming up. I can't keep my eyes open, I move my hand to wake my wife and suggest a rest stop when a truck pulls out infront of me. The driver is on the wrong side of the road. \n\nI don't have time to react. \n\nHe hits us.\n\nI jolt up and grip the steering wheel tightly...",
"I blinked, finding myself suddenly out of place. A few questions instantaneously rushed in my head. Where am I? What am I doing? Who's car is this? Where am I going? How did I end up here? What happened? Why am I here?\n\nAs I came to my senses, I took a moment to find the answer to many of my questions. The wind is cool like the winter chill. I wasn't going too fast, yet it felt too cold for a day in June. I looked around at my surroundings. The area was a barren desert, devoid of any life. All around me was the vast void of sand and rock. To the horizon, mountains kept guard over the domain. The sun had long set, and the only source of light seemed to be the the dim stars in the sky and the dancing lights in front of the car.\n\nI turned to the right to see a man in the passenger side. He was a portly, short, mustachioed man. His bowler hat and tweed suit reflected a fashion sense from the 19th century. Out if all the things in my new surroundings, he seemed the most out of place.\n\n\"Please keep your eyes on the road.\"\n\nHis sudden outburst startled me, but I complied. I wanted to ask him all the questions that had rushed in my head, but I couldn't decide which on to start with. While my mind scurried for the words to say, the air was accompanied by a calm exterior and deafening silence.\n\nHe procured a gold pocket watch from his vest and inspected it. \"Do hurry. We don't have much time to spare,\" he said as he twisted the knob on his watch and closed it.\n\nHis prompt finally gave me the chance to begin my questions. \"Where are we going?\"\n\n\"We're going to your new home, my boy.\"\n\n\"Where is that? Where are we?\"\n\nHe turned and grinned. His voice carried an degree of warmth and comfort. In the cold desert, his speech was like a warm fire. His face carried a jovial atmosphere. Had I been a child, I would have mistaken him for Santa Claus.\n\nHe chuckled, \"I'm certain you have many questions for me, as I would too in your position. All in good time will they be answered. For now, focus on the road and carry on. It shouldn't be much longer.\"\n\nI couldn't help myself but to obey his command. After a moment, I had enough clarity to ask more.\n\n\"May I, at least, know who you are?\"\n\nHe jolted, \"Oh! I'm terribly sorry, I have forgotten to introduce myself. Michael Mortimer at your service.\" He pointed to something in the horizon. \"Ah, here we are. Pull over to this building.\"\n\nApproaching from the horizon was a small complex of buildings. Beside the buildings was a tall sign, illuminated by what seemed to be faint fire, that said \"GATEWAY MOTEL\". If anything, this was the only place in what seemed like an endless stretch of road.\n\nI pulled the car over, and the smooth paved road gave way to rough gravel and rocks. As I got out of the car, the ground below me seemed to give way. For a moment, I was falling. I quickly held on to the car door. As the terror of falling subsided, and I collected my wits, I noticed I wasn't moving at all. In fact, I was standing still, with my hand clutched tightly at the door. It felt as if there was no ground, and I would fall if I let go, but my feet seemed firmly on the gravel below me.\n\nMr. Mortimer adjusted his jacket and turned to me, looking at my position. \"Come along, there is nothing to be afraid of. I assure you that you will not fall. Let go of the vehicle.\"\n\nI slowly released my tight grip from the car door. He was right; I was not falling, despite the feeling of not having any footing. The constant anticipation made my legs feel weak, and I could barely stand.\n\n\"That's good,\" He replied, as I slowly lifted my arm away from the door. \"Now, come along. Your room is waiting.\n\n\"Wait!\" I stopped him. After a moment of awkward silence, I continued, \"Who are you, and what is this place? I'm not going anywhere with you until you start giving me answers.\"\n\nMr. Mortimer smiled and chuckled. \"Yes, of course. You have questions, I'm sure. And, I have the answers. However, this is no place for conversation. Come inside, where it is safe, and I will inform you of everything your heart desires.\" He lifted his hand in a gesture pointing to the door of the building. \n\nUpon approaching the building, I got a closer look at this monolith of isolation. Each building had an adobe exterior, a common sight in the desert as houses go. The box-shaped homes had flat roofs and were garnished with protruding poles. The buildings had two floors, the first floor had a light pink exterior. The top floor was turquoise. At any rate, I had no other place to go. Learning to maintain my balance once again, I walked past Mortimer and opened the door...",
"How could this be? I pointed the gun at myself and pulled the trigger. Was I in a dream? No, it can't be, pain I felt was real. I heard the shot, felt the heat, felt the bullet piercing my skull. How am I still alive and why am I driving this car and to where? Is this afterlife? Anyway I must keep going. I can feel the cold wind blowing and I can hear the hissing of sand from nearby. This is one of the only things I liked when I was alive. Driving at night into nothingness feeling the cold breeze with no one else around to honk at me or disturb me. I hope I could just keep driving but I know this is not going to last. I had some good times in my life too but they never lasted. Every snippet of good times was followed by chunks of bad.\n\n*The day I was born, my mother died giving birth to me. And I always felt it was her life for my life. My father died when I was 15, but I never felt he was there even when he was alive. I hated him but I would not wish the ending he got on my worst enemies. They told me it was Phosgene gas, a new kind of weaponry which filled the lungs of poisoned with fluids resulting in a death in agony. He left me with good inheritance and life was good for sometime. The way he died left me curious and I started to read journals about gases and matter. This was after the war where we had beaten the German empire. And new Germany was becoming a hub for curious minds in science, so that's where I went to . I met my wife in Germany I was 18 and these were the only times when I felt what happiness was. But this ended soon too, first thing I noticed when I saw him was how he manipulated people by telling them they were superior to others. He declared war after sometime and I knew we had to get out of this country, so I made my wife go to my ancestral home in Paris immediately. I stopped back to take care of few matters. And a few days later, he dropped the bomb on Paris. Everything that I had and loved in life turned to dust and radiation in a matter of few seconds. Hitler would have lost this war if not for Heisenberg. I had admired Heisenberg's work before and I had felt proud when he won Nobel prize. But he had upped Alfred Nobel now to become the new merchant of death. Humanity had lost this war and there was no point for me to be alive anymore.*\n\nMy pupils, gotten used to dark by now, constrict on suddenly receiving waves of bright light. I can see the big torches on both side of roads and feel the warmth of flames being carried by them. I can also see some sign posts pointing to roads off the high way. Each sign post has a number written on it.'1700', '1800', '1900', ''2000', '2100', what do these numbers mean? And suddenly it dawned on me. I think I knew it all along. \"Time is relative and flexible, the dividing line between past, present, and future is an illusion\", I had been mesmerised by this quote of Einstein. I know when and where I have to go now. I have to be the person who could stop Hitler from getting this weapon, make him lose this war and pay for everything.\n\n**5 December 1901Würzburg, Kingdom of Bavaria, German Empire**\n\nWerner Karl Heisenberg is born to to Kaspar Ernst August Heisenberg and his wife Annie Wecklein.\n\n​",
"John didn’t realize he was dead until he tried to kill someone and couldn’t. \n\t\nHe was flying down the desert highway, full moon and dazzling stars reflecting off the asphalt ahead of him like rattlesnake scales in the sun, when a mad impulse took hold of him. \t\n\nJohn gripped the rubbery steering wheel of the 1967 red Mustang convertible. He punched the accelerator and bit his lip with a savage pleasure in reaching 100, 120, 140, 160, 180, 200 miles per hour.\n\t\n\nJohn continued depressing the accelerator.\n\t\nHe had no idea how fast this car could go, but he’d be damned if he didn’t find that out before the night was done. \n\t\n\nThe wind was whipping at his face. He felt the skin near his eyes pulling, tearing away from his eyes. What had begun as a cool breeze ruffling his hair had become a cyclone tearing and yanking at the roots.\n\tStill, John sped forward.\n\t220, 240, 260, 280, 300 miles per hour.\n\t\n\nJohn knew cars couldn’t go this fast. An insistent rational voice in his mind kept reminding him of this.\n\t\n\nSomething is off, it told him, be careful, slow down, find out what it is. Something is off.\n\t\nBut John pressed the accelerator even harder to silence that hiding, nagging voice. He’d had enough of that voice for a lifetime. \nThe engine roared like no engine could. It roared like volcanoes erupt, ancient forces thousands of years old releasing fire and toxic fumes into the unready world. A long repressed and violent orgasm in the night. \n\nJohn’s whoop was drowned out by that seismic sound, and he jabbed the accelerator even further down.\n320, 340, 360, 380, 400 miles per hour.\n\nJohn’s heart was thudding in his chest like a timpani.\n\nYes, Yes, Yes, it boomed.\n\nCacti, desert dunes, and boulders burst into his periphery and disappeared as if they were no more than smoke, fog, and shadow, broken up by his approach. \n\nEven the stars above seemed slow, small, and insignificant.\n\nJohn and his Mustang, with the headlights bright and beaming, were like a comet, a meteor. \n\nJohn was the most important thing alive, the only thing that mattered. \n\nHe punched the accelerator harder now, as hard as he could, and yet, his foot hadn’t yet reached bottom. John was in ecstasy. He could go even faster if he wanted.\n\t420, 440, 460, 480 miles per hour.\n\t\nJohn was in real pain now. The wind was digging fingers into his eyes. The delicate inner workings of his ears were in tatters. His eardrums stabbed and broken. He was sure that the skin on his face had split and broken in more than one place. Something was dripping off his face, but it was being whipped off by the wind too fast to tell if it was warm like blood was warm. \n\t\nBut John wanted more. He deserved more.\n\t500, 520, 540, 560 miles per hour.\n\t\nFor the first time since he’d begun driving, John saw something ahead of him on the road.\n\t\n\nIt was a tiny silhouette, hardly recognizable as a person at all, but at the speed John was going, it was growing larger and more defined by the millisecond.\n\t\n\nJohn wanted to smile but he was going too fast for that. He dug the accelerator even deeper now. He didn’t care how fast he was going so long as it was faster. John only had one thing in mind now.\n\t\nHe clenched the steering wheel and made sure he was on the right path.\n\t\nHe was coming up on it now. On him. He screamed with the thrill of it. He saw the horror in the man’s eyes. John bashed at the accelerator with both feet. \n\n“Faster!” John screamed.\n\nJohn would run him down now. He was so close, nearly there.\n\nBUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.\n\nThree industrial buzzes rang out like the sounds that accompany the shutting down of large industrial equipment. \n\nJohn wasn’t in a car, or in a desert, or running someone over.\nHe was sitting in a chair in a small white room. There was someone else there. He was wearing a drab factory uniform. Blue jumper, boots, hardhat. He had a patch on his jumper that read, “Bob.”\n\nJohn opened his mouth to speak, but Bob spoke first.\n\n“I’m not an angel, you’re not in heaven, you’re not in hell. I’m just a technician. I’m here to build your conscience.”\n\nJohn opened his mouth to speak again, but once more, Bob spoke first.\n\n“You’re going to be reincarnated, but first we have to build your conscience. A conscience-less human is the foulest creature in the galaxy, and it’s against the law to let one out. We build your conscience here before we allow you to be reborn. We train it into you like you train your dogs. Repetition and rewards for good behavior. I’ve literally told you these things 1,483,320 times, and you’re still not getting it. But we’ll get there, don’t you worry. Morals don’t come easy for your species. Now, did you enjoy driving your car into that man?”\n\nJohn frowned.\n\n“You did. Well, John, looks like you’re not going to get your ten minutes of pure bliss. Let’s run that again.”\n\n“Wait.”\n\nBut Bob shook his head.\n\n“No.”\n\nAnd then John was flying down the desert highway, full moon and dazzling stars reflecting off the asphalt ahead of him like rattlesnake scales in the sun, when a mad impulse took hold of him.\n\n\t\n\n",
"I hate that name so much. Everything about it is just weird. Couldn’t they have thought of something else. Now. I’m nice and dead. Good going. This is kind of nice though. At least I think it’s nice. Convertible. Desert. Never ending tank of gas. Whatever I want on the radio. It’s nice. What is that smell though. Kind of came out of no where and I have no idea what it is. Maybe a little skunky? Ha. It’s bad weed. Wait. Do I have weed. Ohhh. Shit. Yes. Weed. Nice. This isn’t so bad. I wonder why people are so afraid of the afterlife. This is honestly the calmest I’ve ever felt. \n\nWhoa. Good weed. I’m starting to get tired. Do I just pull over. Or what. Can I pull over. Yep. I can. Wait. That looks like a sign. Neon? Jesus. Where am I? I know. I’m homer after eating Guatemalan insanity peppers. Where’s the fox! I’m an idiot. Guess I’ll stop up there. It looks like a hotel, but this is dreamland, so I can’t read anything. That’s weird. Why am I just noticing that? It’s been hours. Whatever. \n\nOoo. She’s pretty. \n\n*ding ding* \n\nUgh. Fuck. Why’d he do that. And what hotel still has fucking bells in it. \n\nWell this is either gonna be great or seedy. Oooo candles. Why isn’t she talking. Shouldn’t she say something? Should I say something? Wait. Can I say anything? Am I too high? Does she know I’m high? Dammit. I’m too high. \n\nAlright. Down the long dark hall with random ass people talking. That’s fun. Hope the walls aren’t too thin. They are talking about how nice it is. So that should be fun. \n\nOh hell yes. Bed. Time. Gimme. I could swear I stepped into the 70s. Whatever. Bed time. \n\nIt’s still night? Is the afterlife just perpetual sunset. God she looks like Audrey Hepburn. Damn. Oh they’re dancing. There’s a dance? Weird but ok. I’ll check it out. \n\nIt’s still nice out. It’s like that perfect temperature. Wow. Lots of people here. Am I still stoned? How long was I asleep? They’re all dancing. I should dance too. She’s with someone. I’ll dance alone. Where am I? Why am I wearing this? What happened to my car? I can’t remember anything. \n\nHey. Back in the room. Ooo room service. \n\n“Did you say captain?”\n\n“Yes sir. That’s my name. How can I help you?” \n\n“Did I come here with wine. I feel like I had wine when I got here. Can you bring me my wine?”\n\n“Oh. Sorry. No can do. We’ve been dry here since the late 60s” \n\n“Oh. Really? Odd. Oh I gotta go. Sounds like someone is calling for me” \n\nWell. Whatever. I guess maybe heaven doesn’t like liquor. Or whatever this after place is. Who is calling for me though. Just keep saying what a nice place it is? That makes no sense. \n\n**dinner at the end of the hall in miss masters chambers** \n\nWeird sign. Oddly formal. But I am hungry. \n\nOh it’s her. Why is there a mirror on her ceiling. Nope. Never mind. Got it. Mirror ceiling. Yep. Oh everyone’s here. Is that a pig? Oh shit champagne! I’m having some. What are they doing. Small drink. They’re stabbing it. What the fuck. It’s not dying. I gotta get out of here. \n\nDancing? Why am I dancing? Wasn’t I running? Last thing I remember.... \n\n“Did you just say captain?” Wait. \n\n“Yes sir. That’s my name. How can I help you?” This isn’t right. Something isn’t right. \n\n“Did I come here with wine. I feel like I had wine when I got here. Can you bring me my wine?” Thats not what I wanted to say. \n\n“Oh. Sorry. No can do. We’ve been dry here since the late 60s” \n\n“NO!” I won that one. It’s all I could say. \n\n“Relax. We are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like.”\n\n**dinner at the end of the hall in miss masters chambers**\n\nWeird. Sign. Wait. Oddly formal. Wait. But I am... can... never leave. \n\nHungry. \n\n",
"“This is it” Jack thought.\nJack knew he made a grave mistake coming out to the cliffside for some evening riding on his Harley motorcycle. Even as an adult, his parents, friends, peers, and colleagues always chiseled him over the dangers from riding motorcycles. Now they’re opinions would be validated, as Jack stood face to face with a red Dodge Ram, careening over the double yellow line at a lovely 50 mph. In his last moments, Jack almost couldn’t blame the driver. Jack aggressively charged the notorious blind spot of the route, while of course still sticking to his side of the road.\n\nUnfortunately his associate couldn’t be so courteous.\n\nAs Jack closed his eyes and all went black, he was entranced with a warm and pleasant feeling that he could only describe as otherworldly. When he reopened his eyes, he was greeted with a gorgeous sunset, complete with all colors of the rainbow. He was suddenly now in the desert, by himself, with an abandoned gas station as his only sort of break from the desert sand that surrounded him for miles around. To his shock, his bike remained completely intact. But as he mounted his bike he noticed a detail more peculiar than his current circumstances would perceive to be. On the left side of the bike’s bodywork appeared a logo, a logo fitted with what Jack thought to be an angel’s halo wrapped around a traditional devil’s pitchfork. “How did I get here?” mumbled Jack as he was confused why he was suddenly stranded in the middle of the desert rather than on a cliffside. \n\nJack hoped to have some of his internal questions answered, as he saw a group of riders riding identical bikes on the horizon seemingly out to stop at the gas station.\n",
"\"God dammit.\"\n\n\"Language.\"\n\nOpal scowled. Glancing briefly to her right, fear of crashing abandoning her, she saw her passenger. Lounging in the passenger's seat, an army of corkscrew curls waved wildly behind them. They rivaled spring raindrops. Her legs were propped leisurely on the dashboard; her arm was rolled over the window, in the same position as a dangling cigarette. \n\nIt'd been fifty years. Fifty god-damned, stress relief years. She clenched the wheel, grinding her teeth.\n\n\"Come on, you can't say you're not happy to see me,\" the familiar selfish grin slashed her pouty lips. \n\n\"I'm not happy to see you. Far from it, actually.\"\n\n\"There are worst things to meet you on your death day.\"\n\nCool wind passed through her hair, which she had finally noticed was no longer the stainless steel grey of a scouring pad. She swallowed thickly, calming her thoughts. Okay. She was dead - deader than dead, deader than a doorknob. This wasn't a surprise. She was 92. Lived a good life. Died a good death. Was surrounded by people who had loved her, and the last thing she heard were their tears. \n\n\"Don't worry. They miss you.\" She chuckled, \"I don't know why. You were a right bitch of a High Priestess.\"\n\n\"Go fuck yourself.\"\n\n\"See!\" Kicking the dashboard excitedly, she clapped her hands, \"I've missed you. Always telling me what was up. Always keeping it real. Always honest.\"\n\n\"Why are you here?\"\n\nShe blinked at her as if it was the most obvious answer. \"There was no one else.\" She slid her body across leather seats, resting her head on her shoulder. Opal shivered at the touch of her coarse, fluffy hair. Not once, not ever did she think, *\"I'll never feel this again.\"* She knew, in some way, that'd it happen, but when, how. Certainly not like this. She clenched the wheel tighter, biting her bottom lip until the metallic, tangy taste of blood touched her tongue.\n\n\"But you're God.\"\n\n\"A god, not your god. I'm someone's God.\"\n\n\"That's how you got in here?\"\n\n\"I asked my sister.\" She shrugged at Opal's stark glare, \"She has dominion over you. Not I. I just filled your lakes and oceans and all that.\"\n\n\"She didn't create humanity either.\"\n\n\"Nah, that was Mom.\"\n\n\"So...you're here because?\"\n\n\"I missed you.\" She snuggled into her shoulder, curled on the seat like an old cat in front of a gentle fire. \"And besides,\" she murmured, \"this way we can be together forever, and I know it's what you've wanted.\"\n\n\"Don't speak for me.\"\n\n\"Am I wrong?\"\n\nShe took Opal's silence for confirmation.\n\n\"So where is this thing taking us?\" She sniffed, \"What is it? A 1975 El Diablo?\"\n\nShe grinned, \"*1965*, vintage.\" Snuggling deeper into her flesh, she sighed, \"And we're gonna go wherever I want, or where you want. There's a gas station to your right. \n\nOpal saw where she directed. A minor, tiny, ragged gas station was in the middle of nowhere. A minivan, filled with what she assumed to be people were stuffed inside. The driver was inside speaking to the cashier whose red seemed meld appropriately into the dry, Arizona like environment. \n\n\"Don't worry, he likes me.\" She scooted across the seat, over her, and out of the car, \"Hey, Yama!\"\n\n\"Ankaa!\" Opal shouted over the engine, \"Ankaa, hey!\"\n\nAquamarine glanced back at her. Lips pouted brightly, \"Yeah?\"\n\n\"See if there any road maps in there, 'kay? We don't need to get lost, do we?\"\n\nWhen she smiled, that same too pearly, too ivory, too bright and shiny smile, Opal felt more alive than she had in fifty years.",
"You've been driving for several hours, on the verge of falling asleep at the wheel, when you spot a sign advertising lodging up ahead on the right. *Hotel California: No Vacancy*. \"God Fucking Damnit!\" You say out loud. \"There is supposed to be plenty of room at the Hotel California...\" You chuckle to yourself, proud of your relevant joke using the eagles lyrics, and look around the car for anyone who hears your self-proclaimed perfect-timing pun. There isn't anyone around to appreciate your wit, and it isn't the kind of joke that you can discuss with other people later on, it would just sound dumb. \n\nYou slowly realize that nothing you have said or ever will say will come close to this perfect situational pun, and this puts you in a horribly pessimistic mood. You decide to go out on a high note, jerk the wheel and go flying off the road off of a cliff. The car lands upside down 50 feet below , bursting into flames and you slowly burn alive while stuck in the wreckage.\n\nAs your life flashes before your eyes, you get to relive the joke, and the genuine elation you felt after saying it. \"Worth it...\" is your final conscious thought .",
"I'm not sure what car I'm driving. \n\nAll I know is that its a manual transmission, 5 gear system, though my feet has been on the gas for a while now and I haven't had to slow down yet. I don't know where I am, or where I'm headed to. I'm just driving. \n\nThe last thing I remember was laying in the hospital bed speaking to Katie and Susie. They were crying. Fuck it. *We* were crying. I was unbearably weak and it hurt to cry but I cried nonetheless. It was the thought of not being able to see Susie grow up. The thought of not being able to cuddle with my wife after a long day at work. Cancer was a bitch. \n\nWhen all was said and done, I opened my eyes to this highway. I don't know what the weather is like but I can feel the wind in my hair and it feels good. It's dark. I think I'm in a sandy area. It's hard to tell from the darkness, but no matter how much I try to focus on my surroundings, my eyes get pulled back to the road. The smoothness of it, the way the car handles. \n\nI've been driving long enough that I'm beginning to feel like the car was specifically made for me. It handles so fucking well, it's like whoever put me in it, created it from scratch from everything in my memory. Everything about the car feels like the best aspect of all the cars I've ever driven. \n\nTime is useless. I've tried counting the seconds to minutes to hours and I've given up on the idea. Time is inconsequential. The more I enjoy riding in the car, the more the wind makes me feel calm, I keep casting my mind back to when I met Katie. \n\nIt was at University. First week. The student unions had organised a bar crawl around the local town and I had joined my new housemates out that night. Katie was in the second bar we entered in. She stood by herself at the bar, drinking. I know I was tipsy but the way the light caught her frame, it was like time slowed to a stop. Blonde haired, fit-bodied beauty that I stammered my way to a conversation that made her laugh. \n\nThen she poured her drink over me and stomped out the bar. \n\nI chuckle at the memory. It had taken two months after that before I met her again. Turns out we share a course. I think I had apologized then but she still didn't accept it. But I'm persistent. I think. Wore her down with my charm. The sudden brightening of my surrounding pulls me out of my memory. I am in a black desert after all. Odd. \n\nNever knew black deserts were possible. \n\nThen again, I don't think I've ever really opened my eyes to new things without Katie's help. And Susie. And Martha, Joe, Shawn and every other person. \n\nThere was this one time when... \n\n---\n\n/r/EvenAsIWrite for more stories. The end is intentional btw. lol. "
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[WP] In the distant future under global tyranny, humanity has been bred to no longer be capable of sleeping. Labor has increased exponentially to keep up with the wildly inflated population. Sleeping pills are contraband and have become a black market currency to anyone not of ultra wealth.
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"\"Last I dreamed, I dreamt I was flying. Did you know that? That you can fly in your dreams? You can do whatever you want. In your dreams, that is,\" Oxo said, counting the pills. Thirty two. Three less than they'd agreed on. He didn't even have to look up to tell that the bastard was trying to give him the slip. The Junker had only taken six steps before getting clotheslined by Oxo's partner, who had been waiting around the corner. The Junker's head hit the ground, hard, resulting in a loud metallic twang which echoed throughout the alley. Oxo frowned. He didn't like surprises, and he didn't like attention, and somehow, he'd gotten mixed up in both in a short span of time.\n\n\"C'mon, let's go,\" he said, waving to his accomplice. \"Got some friends that're just dying for some shut-eye.\" he said, waving the baggie full of pills.\n\nUnder a dingy neon sign with a missing p, the entrance to Hypnos welcomed all the denizens of Sector C into its comforting embrace; hardworking citizens, and degenerates alike. Beyond the cheap tassels and smell of musk which made it mistakable for a Eurovan sex den, and past the actual sex den, which was a cover for their trade, Hypnos offered its troubled clientele a very specific service which could not be replaced by any other.\n\n\"And there you go.\" Umma said as she helped ease the day's last guests into their chairs. With a flick of her hand, she changed the music. Something a little more soothing. One of the old, old forbidden classics. Oh, how she loved some instrumental jazz by Fourplay!\n\n\"And here we are,\" Oxo said, coming in through the door to the sleep-den. \"Just in time, it seems.\"\n\nUmma squared herself and hissed in his ear. \"Just in time? I was worried sick we were going to make them wait.\"\n\n\"I'm here, aren't I?\" Oxo replied, handing her the baggie. He then moved to a corner of the dim lit den, to a chair which housed a much younger-than-average customer. Eyes covered under the shades, the boy was trembling something fierce. Oxo gently held his hands, making the boy twitch.\n\n\"First time?\"\n\nThe boy nodded.\n\n\"You know, the first time I got shut-eye, I dreamt of something I wanted more than anything. Do you have something like that? Something you want to dream about?\"\n\n\"The boy nodded again. Oxo could tell that the kid had begun tearing up under the blinds. However, the trembling had stopped. At least for the moment. Someone tapped him on the back. Umma with the pills. It was the boy's turn. He got up, patting down his pants and looked on as Umma carefully placed the pill into the boy's mouth with some water.\n\n\"Sweet dreams kid.\" \n\n\"May you never want it again.\"\n\n---\n\nPlease visit r/Seriousaboutnachos for more of my writing, thanks!"
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[WP] The demon tells you that no mortal's soul is worth what you are asking for. You respond, "I'm not offering you my soul, for this I will give you my love."
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"I'm dead serious, and my offer is sincere. The demon senses this, and I can see his well concealed shock. His fierce, amber eyes act as magnifying glasses, allowing me to study his emotions as they come and go like clouds: shock, slight disbelief, and finally, a tinge of wariness, combined with a touch of longing. \n\nHe knows what I am offering. For love, and the connection between spirits, is far more powerful than any one soul. You see, it has the power to redeem. What more could a fallen angel want?\n\nHis voice is soft, vulnerable.\n\n\" Are you sure?\" he asks, and he studies my face. \" This is not something to offer lightly.\" I hold his gaze, and the intensity of the stare could have melted stone.\n\n\" I am.\" I take a step forward, and my heart pounds. The demon clears his throat.\n\n\" Then, let us seal the bond, and may our hearts be forever intertwined.\" He closes the distance, and without hesitation, leans down and kisses me. \n\nHis arms are stable, powerful as they wrap around my waist, drawing me closer. Our lips meet, and like a spark, it sets my soul on fire. It burns and burns, but it doesn't hurt; no, this passion was awaking, creating me, *becoming* me. And I knew that it was good.\n\nHis lips are sweet. They're hesitant, respectfully asking me for permission. Shy, almost. I think it's cute. However, behind the shyness, I can sense his passion. His power, the potential danger that he's restrained specifically for me. \n\nHe is mine. And I am his.\n\nI can't remember how long we stay there. When we separate, out of breath, I lean my head on his muscular chest. I hear his heartbeat, his breathing, and it only serves to bring us closer. My demon whispers into my hair.\n\n\" The bond is complete.\" I look up, studying his face, and I see that the intensity is softening. Little by little, the darkness evaporates. As I watch, the almost imperceptible beginning of a halo begins to form, like a lighthouse on a stormy sea. His eyes are closed, and he presses his forehead to mine.\n\n\" Thank you.\"\n\n"
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[WP] Reincarnation exists and people try to speedrun life, with different records for different endings and goals accomplished. You’re attempting to beat the record for the hardest run: world domination
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"When you die, you come back with... inklings... of what came before. Faint traces of memory, skills lost before you lived again. \n\nThis time, I can't help but think I'm meant to rule the world; modest, I know, but I can't shake the feeling. Therefore, it must be true.\n\nThese were the thoughts of a baby, just born.\n\nAs years passed, the child obsessed over his plans. Telling no one, hiding everything. Living in the shadows. Waiting. For what? He had no clue.\n\nDecades sprinted past the child (not a child) still plotting, still waiting. He sat in a corner, mumbled maniacally, chuckled silently. Waiting. For what? He had no clue.\n\nIt would all fall in place, one day, pieces fitting nicely. Not today, the next one. Or the one after that? He'd wait. He always did."
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[WP] The world's top scientists have discovered an extreme form of space travel, which they've called "leaping". A leap allows a ship and its crew to travel immense distances in a random direction via teleportation. The first manned instance is scheduled for today, and you're part of that crew.
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"*1959, secret Operation Paperclip military facility*\n\nCorporal FitzRobert smiled at him. It wasn’t a kind smile. Ziegler had known these men for years now. Ever since he had been brought over to America. Integration had been slow. Learning the language and getting used to the hostile looks. Many of his guards had fought against him in the war, and he against them. Taking from them, their older brothers, cousins and even some fathers.\n\nBlood trickled from the gash in his eyebrow where the Garand rifle had struck him. ‘Why are you doing this, corporal?’ He asked, even though he knew why. He was ordered to. And he wanted to. \n\nAn officer walked around the spacecraft, checking if Ziegler and the six other German scientist were secured properly. He held a checklist in his hands. \n\n‘Dr. Hans K. Ziegler, are you hereby consenting to being part of this experiment?’\n\n‘I am most certainly not, *Du, Arscheloch*!’\n\n‘I’ll write that down as a “yes”.’ The officer said, walking over to the console. He straightened his tie and looked directly at Dr. Multhopp, who was tied up next Ziegler. ‘Gentlemen, the United States of America thank you for your service and wish you luck in your future endeavours.’ He nodded at the guards surrounding the spacecraft.\n\nCorporal FitzRobert appeared in front of Ziegler once again, closing the translucent plastic hood that would cut him off from the outside world completely. ‘This is for my brother, you German piece of shit.’ He whispered quietly. \n\n‘Please don’t do this. I have paid for my mistakes. I have helped your country for years.’ His pleas for mercy fell on deaf men’s ears.\n\nResigning to his fate, Ziegler dropped his head. For years he had been helping the Americans in their arms race against the soviets. It was ironic, poetic even, for him to now fall victim to an experiment, his and his colleague’s work had been the basis for. \n\n‘One giant leap for mankind, boys.’ The officer finished.\n\n‘That’s a nice one, you should write that down.’\n\nZiegler didn’t hear the officer’s response. The room around him had vanished. In its stead, was a vista of barren plains filled with giant, unnatural mountains of glistening metal. Two moons were hanging low. Soon they would disappear beyond the horizon.\n\n*‘Multhopp, kannst du mich hören?’* Ziegler shouted. \n\n‘*Jah,* I can.’\n\n‘We need to get out of here! I don’t want to suffocate in a metal casket.’\n\n‘He could hear the other scientists agreeing.’\n\nHe started to think about ways to break his restraints when he noticed a column of red lights moving towards them. He frantically tried to pull himself free, not daring to imagine what extradimensional horrors were hurdling towards him. It didn’t matter. They were all around them by the time he started to break a sweat. \n\nWith ease, the beings behind the lights tore the metal door from its hinges. Cold, dead hands pulled him and the other German scientists from the spacecraft and threw them on the ground. It was littered with rubbish. Rusted metallic gears, bolts and other parts broke and crumbled under the weight of his body. \n\n‘Don’t hurt us, *bitte.*’ Ziegler pleaded, protecting his face with his arms and keeping his eyes shut tight. \n\n‘Don’t hurt us, *bitte.*’ The voice sounded odd, as if it had been played through a radio. It was followed by short high and long low sounding noises. ‘Don’t hurt us, *bitte*.’ Ziegler heard again. He dropped his guard and opened his eyes. \n\nBefore him stood a lanky humanlike creature. To his surprise, it was made from metal. It was missing an arm, which it carried in his hand.\n\n‘Robots!?’ he exclaimed. He had read a science fiction novel, not too long ago, talking about such creatures. \n\nThe robot presented his detached arm to Ziegler. *A gift of some kind?* Ziegler thought. Ignoring his scared countrymen, he stood up and gently took the arm. He looked at it and the socket it should have been in. He noticed some cut wires. He promptly cleaned the wires with his spit, reconnected them and pushed the arm back into its socket. \n\nIt began moving. Again the high and low pitched sounds erupted from the robot. They were different this time. They sounded almost happy.\n\nOver the next two hours, he and his colleagues repaired several more of them. Each one of them just as happy as the first to be made whole again. At the end Ziegler’s stomach started to grumble. \n\n‘We will need to find some food some.’ His companions agreed. \n\nThe robots repeated what he said and mimicked his movements. It spread like a wave in a pool. Those with missing parts did their best, others broke down completely in their excitement.\n\nZiegler pointed to his mouth and said: ‘*Hunger*. *Ich brauche Essen*.’ He repeated the phrase a couple of more times. Nodding the whole time, as if asking the robots if they understood him. They mimicked his movement.\n\nIt took time, but around the time when the planet’s sun was at its highest a fully functioning robot appeared, carrying what looked like purple sponges. It presented them to the scholars.\n\n‘They resemble some fungi I have seen back on Earth.’ Observed Benziger ‘Perhaps we should eat them?’ \n\n‘Do you think it’s safe?’ Ziegler, who had quickly become the group’s leader, asked.\n\n‘I don’t know, but it beats waiting to die.’ Benzinger took the first bite. The others waited, wondering if he would collapse. He didn’t. He smiled. ‘It’s bitter, but good.’\n\nThey worked tirelessly through the day. The twin moons appeared again when Ziegler looked at the crowds assembled before them. ‘Soon we’ll have an army.’ He said. ",
"I take small comfort in the fact that the universe was exceedingly empty. If one accounts for every ounce of observable matter you would discover that the whole of all the mass that exists totals an astounding .0000000000000000000042% of the universe as a whole. If a single grain of sand represented all matter in the universe, it would be comparable to throwing that grain into a three foot deep swimming pool the size of Colorado. \n\nThe rest is all the void between matter. A boring void at that, but when you’re about to teleport several light minutes in the blink of an eye, you’ll take popping back into existence in empty space any day of the week. Better that than instantly exploding in nuclear hellfire at the heart of a star, or even worse, partly fused in granite.\n\nIf one were to suddenly appear and mesh with a cloud of Fluorine, the Potassium in the liver would bind with it instantly, creating Potassium Difloride, and your abdomen would briefly light up the room like a New York street lamp. You’d be long blind (and likely dead) before you saw it glow, but it’s an interesting way to go out at least. \n\nAll of this sounds like theoretical mumbo jumbo, but theoretical mumbo jumbo is exactly what the Beyond Horizon is capable of. I won’t get into much of the technology involved (hint: I don’t understand it) but the Beyond Horizon is equipped with what’s being called a Mass Field Fluctuate Uon Drive. Depending on how much power you put into the MFFUD, it can quite convincingly convert all the matter with the field into energy, and then politely move the entire universe a distance in relation to the remaining energy. With all the energy within the system depleted, the field is dropped and the contents within return to their normal matter state. \n\nThe amount of energy it takes to move the universe, it turns out, isn’t as much as we used to think. This is thanks to in part a principle known as meshing. Since the universe began as a singularity everything within it existed in an overlapped state. Despite the universes expansion, all things within it STILL overlap. I know, it blew my mind when they told me that too. \n\nSince everything is overlapping, they are all essentially connected together. This connection is facilitated by a fundamental particle called a Uon (you-on). If you push one Uon, the others move with it. As you’ve probably already guessed, while within the Mass Field, your Uon’s lose their connection to all the others. However, there’s no predicting which way the Uon you collide will actually move. Rather the only thing you can be certain of is the distance it will move because you control the counteracting force. The force it takes to move a single particle, as you can probably imagine, is far less then what it takes to launch a rocket in space. \n\nFor that matter, NASA had to change the entire design goal when developing the Beyond Horizon. Before mass to rocket fuel ratio was the biggest limiting factor in getting into space. Everything was judicially measured and weighed, designed and redesigned, dehydrated, flattened, folded, cut out and minified to standards that deemed a 2% failure rate acceptable for non critical items. Integrity won out often enough when it came to the critical parts, but a Senate passed budget even trumped that standard from time to time. \n\n\nNow however, NASA is merely limited by an area within the Mass Field, which presently is roughly a three hundred meter radi. Weight is still a factor, as once we arrive at our destination, we will be using an Ion engine to return home, but so many less corners need to be cut that the launch of the Beyond Horizon is already being hailed as the safest manned space mission in history. When training to launch into space on a standard rocket you’re strapped to a 3 kiloton bomb who’s job is to explode repeatedly over the next 4 minutes. To train for that they strap you to a centrifuge and spin you like a pinwheel at 9g’s. If you stay awake you pass. To train for a Uon Drive jump they have you sit still in a chair for three seconds. The chair doesn’t even have a seat belt. Doesn’t need one. \n\nAs it just to happens, the field emitted by the Uon Drive is a near spherical taurus shape (this means it looks like a ball but the very top and bottom collapse sharply into the center, kind of like a bloated doughnut). I don’t know if you can think of any popular spherical space vessels, but I’m happy to be the first mechanical engineer on a miniature Death Star.\n\n\n(*Sorry! I ran out of time for the night! I hope you enjoyed what I got done thus.*)",
"I cannot tell you who I am! \n\nI can see that I am here later than I thought, I was supposed to post this before anyone else got to your WP. \n\nAll I can hope is that I am close enough to what is not supposed to happen for this to work. This is my 3rd time trying. \n\nWe have proved the \"Leap\" technology works, it works. Based off your WP someone has invented and put into use the \"Leap\". \n\nSince it has come out, life as you know it no longer exists. You must remove this post ASAP. I cannot beg you enough.\n\nYOU MUST REMOVE THIS POST!!\n\nSince I am still here, which is longer that before, what I can tell you is the place this Leap takes place first. It was one of the biggest time cash againok then history onemo re time te he ag s t ...---...---...---..",
"\"So, let me get this straight. The ship will be sent to a random location somewhere in the universe.\" I ask.\n\n\"Yes.\" He replied.\n\n\"It could be anywhere. A random point out of the entire universe.\" I press.\n\n\"Correct. The leap space drive uses quantum teleportation to move which makes it impossible to set a destination.\" He replied.\n\n\"So how do we get back?\" I ask.\n\n\"We don't.\" He replied.\n\n\"Why would I agree to leave Earth forever?\" I ask.\n\n\"We believe it is a matter of survival. Humanity has already settled our solar system. But in the grand scale of everything that isn't very far at all. All of our eggs are in this one basket, so to speak. Since ancient times people have always moved out further and further. This is the next step. This ship is designed to be a permanent home if need be. We will keep leaping over and over looking for a new Earth.\" He said.\n\n\"Why me?\" I ask.\n\n\"We believe you and your partner have the skills and temperament to make the ship your new home. You mentioned that you wanted kids. This will be an environment for them unlike anything they could experience on Earth or Venus. The first humans to leave our solar system.\" He says.\n\n\"I have to think about it.\" I say.\n\n\"Of course. Please think and discuss it. Here, this is for you.\" He hands me a holo chip. In it is information about the ship. When completed it will be the largest ship ever built. It is an enormous cylinder that pushes the boundary of what is possible, spinning to give artificial gravity. At one end, called the 'back', is the engine section. It doesn't spin and contains the Leap drive and a secondary Orion drive for in-system manuvering. The 'front' section is an ice asteroid that was captured. It will serve as resources for the journey and a shield while in space. Right now robots are excavating a hole which the cylinder will fit into. Three arms extend from the engine section perpendicular to the ship. On them are optical telescopes. When the images a put together by computer they give the equivalent imaging power of a giant telescope. After a leap the ship will look for habitable planets. If none are found it will leap again. If one is found the ship will begin to fly there. It could take many generations to find a new world. It may even take forever. But if we don't start we will never know.",
"Looking around I’m proud to see I’m surrounded by such elite company. Politicians, entertainers, news writers, Hollywood’s screenwriters and directors and TV show hosts plus mobs of cheering moms and kids. I seem a great representation among minorities and alternative lifestyle folks of every color, even a few undocumented folks.\n\nThen I realize, “in a random direction” - but space is so vast and places where we could find a habitable planet so scarce. This can’t be right, we almost certainly would perish from lack of food, water, air! This is a suicide mission.\n\nI look for someone else around me who might share my concern but I see no scientists, I see no authority figures know to get things done for the people’s well being. \n\nThen it slowly dawns on me... I can’t be right. I look left and right and behind me. Nothing but liberals, not a conservative to be seen!\n\nIt’s a tra—-\n\n——— And like that ... America is Great again.",
"“The Leap. The pinnacle of human innovation. An invention one can only see as a tribute; To all the knowledge humanity has built and maintained over the many millennia. We’ve pursued the stars and at the end, we’ve obtained the ability to take our first step past the starting line. Never before has such a revolutionary technology been unveiled.“ The flashing and clicks of camera fill the room, illuminating Dr. Ksum’s face, alongside the amazement of the reporters. This the first, of many, press conferences to be held, discussing the leap. “The leap drive was discovered by chance, an irregularity almost overlooked that would ultimately change the fate of the human race.” \n\n\n\nHer press conference continues for hours, providing the first details of real world trials. When would the first human trials occurs. What are the potential future economic, political, and sociological implications of such a device. She navigates the media minefield elegantly, handling questions she couldn’t possibly begin to answer with grace befitting a politician. Ultimately ending in a successful announcement. \n\nIncoming Call from \\[Restricted Caller\\]. DND bypassed. \n\nStartled awake by her alarm she groans. What could be so possibly important that they have to interrupt my sleep. They should know I was out until two because of our announcement. \n\n“Answer the call.” \n\n“Doctor Meghan, my apologies for calling at such a late hour. Congratulations with the conference by the way. You were very eloquent up there.” \n\nTraces of impatience could be heard in her voice. “No amount of flattery is going to help your case Marvin. Just hurry up and tell me what’s going on so I can go back to sleep.” \n\n“Right. Well I don’t know if you’re going to have time to sleep. You need to get back to the facility immediately. We concluded our first automated trial during the announcement and our results were… Interesting. To say the least.” \n\n“What do you mean by interesting Marvin?” Curiosity quickly took the place of grogginess and her feelings of tired. \n\n“Our line may be encrypted but I can’t speak any more. The announcement has Everyone’s eyes on us and this is too big to leak. Get here as soon as you can.” \n\n“Just let me kn-“ \n\nCall Terminated. \n\nWhat the hell is going on? ",
"‘Stand to attention men!’ Master-sergeant Emmery’s stern voice echoed in the vast, mostly empty hall, bouncing off the metal hull of the space craft and the distant walls. \n\nAdmiral Micha Dewitt felt only pride when he gazed upon the human achievement he would be a part of. A thousand men and women would be the of the United Nation’s spear tip thrust into outer space. The beginning of humanity as an interstellar race. \n\n*If only James and Ellie could have been here to see this,* he thought. Taken from him only eighteen months before, his son and wife had been his everything, his raison d’être. He was deeply saddened by his loss, but he had made them a guiding light in the new endeavour he would undertake. \n\n‘I see here, before me, explorers. A foundation. A new beginning at the end of the old one. Some say we have dug our own grave, with our disregard of our plant, and deserve to die in it... alone. I am not one of those men. I see before me… a new chance.’The assembled crowd cheered and applauded Dewitt’s speech. Only the prisoners remained silent in their cryogenic sleep. \n\n“Their trouble is best left behind on this planet. Give them a new start as they awake on Centaur’s Heart.” His colleague had said. He had also assured him, that they would improve earth by leaving it, and do the same to Centaur’s Heart by arriving there. Nevertheless, forced labour made him feel uneasy. Not that he could do anything about it. He had been overruled.\n\nHe saluted and the crew erupted in a flurry of activity. Lieutenant Moors appeared at his side as he boarded the ship. ‘It has been requested that you sign these documents before we depart, sir.’ The young man was dressed impeccably, as always. \n\n‘Anything of note?’\n\n‘If you had been my father, sir, I would have said yes. He always checks the cargo manifests personally. “Logistics are the backbone of the fleet.” He always says. I can assure you, however, that all is as it should be.’\n\n‘Very well then.’ The admiral said, and he placed his thumb on the opaque part of the tablet held before him.’\n\n‘Thank you, sir. The ship is fuelled and ready to depart. The technical officers await your command on the bridge.’ The young lieutenant raised his hand to his forehead, nodded and walked away.\n\nDewitt pondered on the events of the past eighteen months, as he walked through the ship’s narrow corridors. How everything had changed. Not only for him personally, but for the entire world. Merely a week after the discovery of a new, habitable planet, orbiting the sun’s closest neighbour, he had received a report that UN scientists had successfully tested a leap-drive, and that preparations to do a large-scale test were already underway.\n\nHe had broken protocol when he told his wife and son the news that very night. Ellie had cracked open a bottle of fine wine and James had kept going on about the huge opportunities that the discovery would bring. His chest constricted and he felt a stinging sensation in his eyes. It was the last memory had of them together. He was glad it was a happy one. \n\nHe entered the bridge and wasted no time. \n\n‘Major, initiate leaping-sequence.’\n\n‘Sir, yes, sir.’ The major pushed some digital buttons on the screen before him. \n\nA short, but loud siren screamed throughout the ship. It was followed by an automatic message, ordering all personnel to their stations. \n\nIt took five minutes to go over the entire pre-leap checklist. All stations were accounted for. All but lieutenant Moors, who was last seen near the engine room. \n\n‘Should we depart without the lieutenant present?’ The major asked. \n\n‘That won’t be necessary. The engines are probably interfering with the signal. He will have heard the announcement. Proceed as planned.’\n\n‘Sir, yes, sir.’ \n\nDewitt struggled to keep his balance as the ship lifted off and positioned itself beyond Earth’s gravity well. *Will this end like their car trip?* He wondered. *In blood, fire and twisted metal?* He shook his head, driving away the memories of his family, not daring to think such dark thoughts just before leaping. \n\nSomewhere between Earth and the Moon the ship stopped, diverting power from the fission engines to the leap-drive. He had been told that it would be near instantaneous. Light years in mere moments. \n\nHe placed his hand next to the button that would initiate the leap and switched on the intercom. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, good luck.’ He touched the screen. Nothing but a small beep indicated that the quantum computer had received his command.\n\nHis eyes separated from the on-screen data stream. The vast interplanetary emptiness had vanished. Before him drifted a green and blue marble. But not the one he had known all his life. \n\nHe wanted to say something to the crew, but he was cut short by the ship shaking and the sound of explosions.\n\n‘Sir, we have got hull breaches on decks D and E.’\n\n‘Is the drive malfunctioning?’\n\n‘No, sir. All readings were fine. This was deliberate.’\n\n‘Major, you have the bridge. I’m going to assess the damages.’ He turned and ran towards the sliding door that closed off the bridge. ‘And would somebody please locate lieutenant Moors?’\n\nHundreds of feet of corridors flashed by in a blur. \n\nHe passed some wounded and some who hadn’t been that lucky. Most of them were wearing the grey prisoner uniforms. It appeared that the automated systems had revived them from their cryogenic sleep when the blast tore through the section.\n\n‘Micha!’ \n\nDewitt turned, but didn’t stop, when he heard his first name.\n\n‘Micha Dewitt!’ A prisoner ran up to him and grabbed his hand.\n\nHe was ready to protect himself, but lowered his fist when he saw the face of General Ernesto Guivierra, his lifelong friend. \n\n‘What are you doing here. Shouldn’t you be in New York, at UN headquarters?’\n\n‘We’ve been tricked Micha.’\n\n‘Who?’\n\n‘All of us!’\n\nHe looked at the prisoners around him. He knew many of their faces. He had seen them before, in the halls of the UN building. These weren’t prisoners, they were government officials.\n\nA voice crackled in his ear. ‘It was Moors, sir.’\n\n‘What was Moors?’\n\n‘The explosion.’\n\nHe felt sick to his stomach.\n\n​\n\n'All is as it should be general Moors. Your son provided us with admiral Dewitt's signature. We have place it on the doctored manifesto. Implicating him and those under his command in the disappearance of hundreds of officers, officials and prominent scientists, and the murder of about a dozen more.'\n\nThe old general smiled, even though his son would have surely perished by now. 'Good. Now, no one stands in our way.'"
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[WP] You accidentally discover glitches in reality which you begin to exploit.
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"Wait what, was my first reaction when the glitch occurred. It was nothing much, just a small 'stop' that lasted a split second. Everything continued where it left off. It could have easily been an illusion.\n\nBut then, there were more. Reality was like a broken record, stopping and starting more and more frequently. However, they always seemed to follow a certain pattern, they started at certain times and lasted for a certain period of time. I realized then I could exploit these. During the longer ones, I could grab a bite to eat from a shop, or get answers for a test. People could be scared of embarrassed, as the chances to prank were infinite.\n\nBut then the darker ideas entered my mind. The possibilities were endless- why not use them. I cheated, stole and in the darkest period, murdered, eventually becoming a twisted shadow of my former self. No-one knew it was me, it was a seemingly unconnected wave of crime.\n\nBut guilt caught up to me, hitting me like a freight train. No person should wield this power, especially not one as easily tempted as me. \n\nThis is why I'm running. Don't try to find me, it'll already be too late.\n\n- Your best friend,\n Anon."
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[WP] Mythical creatures are real. In ages past, in order to save them from knights, Merlin sent them all into a different dimension, where humanity never existed, only in myths. Portals have opened up between dimensions, and humanity has elected you to be the emissary between the two worlds.
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"\"This ... is madness,\" I say, cowering behind my desk.\n\n\"George calm down! for christ's sake, you won,\" Dave says while his large figure leans forward above the wooden desk.\n\n\"Christ might as well show up!\"\n\n\"George you are the number one negotiator in the entire world ... have some fucking confidence!\"\n\nOur eyes meet, doubt shows itself in our gaze.\n\nOnce in a lifetime events hardly announce themselves through online tests in mailboxes. None of us knew that this was a global job interview presented to every hostage negotiator, diplomat, psychologist, politician and every other profession that deals with communication. Apparently this includes car salesmen.\n\n*Does skimming while drunk at 2 a.m. count as cheating?* I contemplate telling George this, but quickly dismiss the thought. Being the center of the world's attention was more euphoric than any high I ever rode and I do not want to face withdrawal symptoms of equal magnitude.\n\n\"Look, I don't know how you did it, but you better pretend you know how,\" George says, \"cause if you don't that bearded old man might do something fucked up again.\"\n\nMerlin's return was world news alright. You'd think a medieval wizard wouldn't know how to deal with social media. Nope. Opening a mile wide magical rift that sucked in the Eiffel Tower tends to catch a few snapchats and live streams. Having a loud booming voice follow up with 'woeps, sorry 'bout that.' makes every meme put itself to shame.\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\nAnd at this point I lost confidence. But I promised myself at least 200 crappy words a day with the exposure of criticism so here it is. If there is any interest I'll continue. Thanks for reading."
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[WP] With your ability, you have gained immortality! Sort of. You have to transfer your old age to someone young.
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"I look down at the little newborn, curled up in the incubator. A baby girl, only two hours old. The wires and life support dominating her tiny frame, monitoring the irregular heartbeats and providing her with life-sustaining nutrients.\n\nAfter 22 hours of labor, she was brought into this world. And after ten minutes, was carted straight into intensive care. A heart deformity, one that will stick with her throughout her short life. She only has a year, maybe two to live before her heart will give out, unable to keep up with her rapidly growing body.\n\nI clench my fists as my emotions get the better of me. I've been in the field for three hundred years. I have seen more death than most, I've seen plagues ravage the lands and claim the lives of millions. I've seen two world wars and have been in the thick of the medical tents. Barely anything phases me anymore, but I can never keep my composure when faced with something like this. Grown men and women have lived their sins, have grown and loved, have experienced life in their own way. This beautiful girl, cursed with a weak heart for nothing more than being unlucky, will never experience the joys and hardships of life. She will never experience her parents love, her first kiss, her first heartbreak. The joy and sorrow life can give.\n\nWith a heavy heart and shaking hands, I open the incubator. Her small frame unmoving, except for her steady breathing.\n\n\"Emily,\" I say, remembering her mother's name for her. The name she was given as she was held in her mother's arms for those brief few minutes, the love in her voice evident as she gazed upon her first born child. \"I'm sorry that you were never given a chance... That some force beyond us, decided you didn't deserve to live out your life... That you couldn't share your joy with others.\"\n\nI place my hand on her small head, my hand easily engulfing it. I can feel her weak, irregular pulse through my fingertips, as I shudder from what I have to do next.\n\n\"I promise, that with your sacrifice, I will save a thousand more lives. The years you will give me will be devoted to bringing more little girls into this world, to live out the life you were denied. To save others, so that they may bring the joy you would have brought to others. As a doctor, I give you my oath.\"\n\nI feel her life slowly leaving her, as it enters me. All the years she would have lived, slowly transferring to me. She would have lived a long, happy life, if circumstances didn't take that away from her. \n\nAs the last bit of life fades from her, I turn off the monitoring device next to the incubator. I straighten up, adjust my scrubs, and make the long march to the wards. After three hundred years, I've never gotten used to delivering the bad news either.\n\n==========================================================================================\n\nSorry if this came out wonky, it's early morning and I still haven't woken up 100% yet lol. Let me know what you think, and if you liked this one, check out my other work at r/DoopleWrites! "
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[WP] Radioactive fallout has devastated the earth. Animals and plants have all gone extinct with the exception of one human. Just as hope was almost lost, two beings appeared in front of her. God and the Devil. They want to restart the universe in their own way, but they need a third opinion.
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"\"I told you\" said the angel with black wings protruding from his crimson red suit, \"I told you they'd mess it all up.\" \"Everything would have been fine, Lucifer, if you hadn't thought it necessary to give them knowledge of Good and Evil.\" The man in the white robes and a long, curly white beard, responded patronizingly. \"What, and let them revel in their own ignorance and filth as apes?\" \"Yeah, basically.\" \"I'll have you know that without me-\" \"Without you, Lucifer, my world wouldn't look like... *this*.\"\n\nAs the two figures bickered and descended down a set of invisible stairs, Laura watched and listened intently through her hazmat suit with a mic. It was possible she was hallucinating, or going mental, considering she was totally alone and hungry. Then again, what did she have to lose if this was real?\n\n\"I mean, yeah, they did destroy absolutely everything, but you can't say it didn't look cool when their firecrackers went off.\" \"Does it look 'cool' now?\" the man asked. \"It looks just like half the other boring stuff you created in space,\" the angel retorted, \"but before you continue scolding me, we have one of my humans here who is in a very desperate situation, who needs tending to.\" \"One of *your* humans?\" \"Yeah, because you only claimed them *after I* had granted them intelligence and set them on their way. Regardless, if you can't tidy this up real quick, I will.\" \"I assure you, I am well capable of doing that. Here, child. Let's make this a little more hospitable, shall we?\"\n\nWhen he reached the bottom of the stairs, God snapped his finger and a building with a garden stone garden suddenly surrounded them. Laura's hazmat suit vanished, leaving her regular t-shirt and jeans underneath. There was a table for them to sit at, and this is where God gestured for her to sit. The angel looked around and scoffed, \"I've seen better\", but God ignored him for the moment.\n\n\"We needn't introduce ourselves, Laura,\" God started when he and Lucifer were seated, \"So let's get down to business. Obviously, the great humankind project failed spectacularly, due to their own knowledge coupled with lack of wisdom. You're the last human left, so that is why we came to you.\"\n\nThe Devil butted in, \"God and I have agreed to press the 'reset' button, if you will. Start the universe from scratch, and do it a little bit differently. Maybe try to make it last over 14 billion years this time, who knows? That's why we came to converse with you, given the human aptitude for ingenuity and creativity, something which infinity has pretty much dulled in the two of us.\"\n\n\"I- I'm not sure I understand,\" Laura stammered, still unsure if it was a hallucination. If it was, she was without her hazmat suit anyways.\n\n\"We're making Earth 2.0, really Earth 2.4.17, but that's besides the point. The point is that we're building a new universe, and need to know what to include and what not to include. What will we need to patch for Earth 2.0, if you understand what I mean?\"\n\n\"There will be humans, still,\" the Devil put in, \"but with tweaks and adjustments, and probably reverted back to dumb apes that understand fun. How does that sound?\"\n\n\"Stupid, to be honest,\" Laura replied, \"humans will just kill each other all again.\"\n\n\"We should re brand them anyways, right Lucifer?\" God asked.\n\n\"Sure, but that just makes more paperwork for me,\" he replied.\n\n\"Not if you make them dumber and less competitive.\"\n\n\"Why don't you give them a superabundance of everything?\" Laura asked.\n\n\"Would you want everything to be handed to you for free?\" Lucifer countered, and Laura relented, \"I personally believe that we just restart the universe, but make humans wiser, rather than dumber.\"\n\n\"That's a better idea, I think. But I don't know what's better or worse right now.\"\n\n\"Well, tell you what, Laura,\" God offered, \"You come back to heaven as designer for Earth 2.4.17, and you can help us there. But for the moment, let's get you out of this hell you humans made for yourself.\"\n\n\"Hey!\" Lucifer sounded offended, \"Hell's a lot nicer than this. I take my job seriously, Y.W..\"\n\n\"Don't call me that, and get your angels working on tearing this thing down. I'd like to get a new one going sooner rather than later.\"\n\n\"What does it matter to you? We're both immortal, it's not like we're pressed for time.\"\n\n\"Yeah, but watching an expansive universe is a lot better than watching nothing. Now, Laura, I had this idea about making Earth 2.4.17 a moon. How cool would that be...\""
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[WP] They're onto their fifth method of torture. You're starting to get annoyed.
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"“We don’t know anything about him. Well, except of course for the fact that he tried to kill the President’s daughter.”, Dr. Gunn carefully informs the Secretary of Defense.\n\nThe man in charge looks sceptically at the prisoner on the other side of the one-way mirror, why would *anyone* ever want to harm an 8 year old kid? \n\nAnd why on Earth are the guy’s eyes close?\n\nConfused, the Secretary asked, “Is he *dead*?”\n\n“No, he’s taking a nap.”\n\n“*Excuse me?* You informed me over the phone that you’ve already used mild electrocution and even scalding showers to extract information from this man—and he decides to take a nap?”\n\n“Sir, he’s different.” The doctor quickly argued.\n\n“How is he-“\n\n“Different? Wow, thanks for the compliment.” Both men shifted their gaze to the prisoner, now looking dead in the eye of the Secretary. Something settles inside the Secretary’s mind. As he stares straight, he can’t shake the feeling that he, somehow, knows this guy.\n\nAfter a long moment of silence and contemplation, the Secretary clears his throat, “This is a one-way mirror, right? How can he see us? How can he hear us?”\n\n“I told you, Sir. He’s different.”\n\nThe Secretary had enough of this, if he wants to reach his meeting on the White House, he better get this done. Fast.\n\n“Why did you attempt to assassinate the first daughter?”\n\n“Not telling.”\n\nThe Secretary looks at the Dr. Gunn with a knowing look. The doctor could only look in dismay, “Sir, we’ve already tried doing it.”\n\n“The Water Cure?”\n\n“Yes, Sir. He simply took it all in without even flinching nor gagging. His stomach slowly inflated but almost instantly went back to its natural shape. He even said thank you after we were done.”\n\nPondering for a minute, the Secretary finally says, “Well, then it’s time to move on to an alternative.”\n\nHe grabbed a pair of pliers and went inside the other room, making sure his steps were full and noisy. He held the tool in his hands like it was a toy ready to be given to a child.\n\n“I’ll give you the chance to have all your fingers on the right places.” The Secretary’s voice was now laced with menace.\n\n“Tell me why.”, he continues.\n\n“Yeah… no.”\n\nWith that, the Secretary’s eyes went ablaze. He started with the left thumb, twisting it at a painfully slow pace until it broke apart. The prisoner screamed while the chair he was sitting on violently shakes from his involuntary spasm. The Secretary could only smile smugly as he went on and on until the prisoner’s hands looked like mutilated paws of a deranged dog.\n\nThen, the prisoner started laughing. \n\n“I c-can’t do it anymore. You fell for it! You-you actually fell for it!!!” The prisoner says between every laugh. “Woooh, wait wait, give me a second. I can’t breathe. Holy shit, that was funny.”. \n\nWhen the prisoner finally caught his breathe, he stared at his severed fingers.\n\n“Awww, men. I liked those things.”, he stated. Within a second later, the prisoner’s hands began to glow and after five short seconds, sprouted ten perfectly clean fingers.\n\nMockingly, he looks up to the man in front, “You know, I really am getting bored, Mr. Secretary.”\n\nThe Secretary stared in complete horror and slight amazement.\n\n“Who are you? *What* are you?”\n\n“I don’t know. But I do know what you are. You liked torturing me, don’t you? My, you’re a sadistic man, Mr. Secretary. Tsk tsk.”\n\nThe Secretary brushes off the prisoner’s remarks, determined to get answers from this man.\n\n“I repeat. Why did you attempt to assassinate the first daughter?”\n\n“That wasn’t the first daughter. That was the demon Astruna. You’re lucky I even volunteered to visit your sick, sick world and try to heroically slay the intruder. Actually, scratch that. *Forced to.* Guess after all these centuries, big Daddy still likes his creation.”\n\nThe Secretary could only sneer at the delirious prisoner now looking comfortable as ever. He wanted nothing but truth, and he’s going to get it.\n\n“Doctor, I’m afraid we have to move on to Code 17.”\n\n“But that form of torture was long deemed illegal. Both o-“\n\n“Do it.”\n\nDr. Gunn presses a blue button on the side panel and seven men in white uniform shuffled inside the room. These seven men were strongly built and were swiftly putting steel restraints on the prisoner in such an automated way. They locked everything in place—the prisoner’s body was now spread out like the Vistuvian Man.\n\nThe torture was slow and excruciating. First, they did fifty lashes on the back until they could see the dirty white-colored spine of the man. They moved onto his torso and attached several wires that sent extreme dosage of electricity all through the man’s body. His palms were wide open. His kneecaps were clearly out of place, and his face— completely beaten.\n\nThe prisoner could only look at the men in sadness and despair. “My brother Michael was wrong to save humanity once. Today, you shall live all on your own.”\n\nThe Secretary, with his army of seven merely scoffs and continues what they were doing until an hour later when the Secretary’s hands began to feel tired.\n\nHe wipes the sweat on his forehead and looks at his destruction proudly. But before he could utter a triumphal announcement, the prisoner’s body went back to what it was before. But at a better shape.\n\n“You done?” The prisoner asks, and while he looks at the Secretary whose eyes shook with alarm, his restraints drops to the floor.\n\nThe prisoner cracks his neck and both hands,\n\n“My turn.” ",
"\"Come on, guys, I don't even breath the same way you do,\" I pleaded.\n\n\"Shut up!\" The masked man said, shoving a rag down my throat as I was being flipped upside down. I pretended to check a watch on my right arm, which was missing all of the nails on the right hand. They began pouring the water over my face, I saw the other torture guy grin widely as it happened. \n\n*What a weirdo.*\n\n\"You know I don't speak the same way you do, either,\" I said, rag in mouth and water pouring over me. The three of them jumped back. The two of my torturers looked to their leader behind them. \n\n\"Electrocution from the car battery,\" he ordered boldly.\n\n\"Oh, yeah, that's a great idea. A lot more original than the taser you used earlier.\" I sighed through the rag as the first guy tore it out and the second dragged my chair to an old battery lying on the floor.\n\n\"I told you to shut up!\" The first guy yelled again, slapping me across the face. I didn't react, but I saw him wincing and massaging his hand afterwards. He glared at me. \"What are you?\"\n\n\"We both know that's cheating. You want me to answer or you want me to shut up?\"\n\n\"Shut--\" He clamped his mouth down furiously and raised his hand to slap me again, but thought better of it. The other torture guy was attaching jumper cables to what I assumed were the more sensitive parts of the human body. \n\n\"If I start screaming will you take it as a win and let me go?\" I asked before the leader flipped a switch. I felt the power surge through me and I waited just a few seconds before reacting. \"Ah. That did it, yep. It hurts a lot. Ouchie, ouchie. I'll tell you anything, please let me--\" I yawned loudly. \"Let me go.\"\n\nI redirected the electricity to the battery and caused a short. I glanced at the battery with seeming surprise, then turned to the three of them again.\n\n\"I'm actually done work-shopping any good one-liners I had. Can I go now?\"\n\nThe three of them looked at me with consternation. The leader was especially wrought with disbelief. \n\n\"This guy sucks,\" my second torturer said. \n\n\"Because you can't enjoy a man enjoying himself?\" I asked. His eyebrows came down hard, but he didn't reply.\n\n\"He seems to eagerly want to leave, perhaps if we leave him alone for a long period of--\"\n\n\"Oh yeah, more isolation. What does it take for a human to have a mental breakdown in solitary? Like 3 days? You left me in there for a month. I'm eager to leave because *I'm bored.* I learned everything I can from you three.\"\n\n\"More the reason to keep you,\" the leader replied matter-of-factually.\n\nI looked at the first guy, hoping he would see reason. He was still massaging his hand and glaring at me. I sighed wistfully. \n\n\"Ok, then what happens now? What will it take for you to let me go?\"\n\n\"Tell us all of your abilities. Where you come from. Why you're here. What kind of threat you are to us. The typical stuff, then you'll be free to go.\"\n\n\"I can tell when you're lying.\"\n\n\"I'll take note of that.\"\n\n\"No you won't. You're still lying.\"\n\nThe two others looked to the leader. He frowned and pointed at the first guy, commanding,\n\n \"Bronson, take a note of this for me.\"\n\n\"Look, I'm not gonna talk to you about my abilities or any of that other stuff. If I do, I'm at a huge disadvantage. You'll find more ways to not let me go. But if I wait for any of you to slip up...\" I let the thought finish itself.\n\n\"Keep him in here for another month,\" the leader said, signaling the two others to the door. \n\n\"Should we keep him tied up,\" the second guy said, shaking with anticipation.\n\n\"Yes. In fact, tighten his bonds. And let's get out of here. I don't like the way he speaks.\"\n\n\"I'm right here, you know,\" I said, trying to sound pained. But I was excited. They tied me up and left the room bolting it an innumerable amount of times from the outside. I finally let my smirk make its way to my face. They left me with a broken car battery. My escape was finally at hand.\n\n________________________________________________________\n\nThanks for reading! Read some more stuff by me at r/Nazer_The_Lazer"
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[WP] Of all the places you expected to end up after death, Hell wasn't it. You are taken to meet Lucifer himself, but he looks troubled. "I'm sorry for what happened to you in life. It was wrong, even by our standards. I can give you a chance for revenge, or you can simply live here comfortably."
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"I was literally the very last person on Earth that I thought would end up in Hell. I had done a very important thing after all, and my legacy would last for thousands of years, long after i was dead. But here i was, standing at the fiery gates instead of the pearly ones. Oh well, obviously I must’ve screwed up, even though I had literally no idea how I would’ve. I had followed my mission exactly. Successfully. The demon butler at the gate looks at me with pity. “Ah yes, it’s you. I know you have a lot of questions, and The Prince can answer them all. I will lead you to him now.” We walked down a hallway lit with flames. I was barefoot, but strangely I didn’t get burned by the fire. The demon butler stopped at a door with a pentagram on it. He knocked. A deep voice called out “Who is it?” The demon simply replied, “Her.” I looked at him, confused. I had a name after all. I was very famous in my time after the incident. “Yes.” The deep voice said. “Bring her in.” The door opened and I stepped through it. The first thing i saw was him. Seated at his desk. The one I had been raised to hate above all others. But strangely, he looked at me with pity, even though i was one of his enemies, although indirectly. “What am I doing here?” I said through gritted teeth. “Because you deserve to be here. You’ve earned that right.” “I have done nothing to earn that right! I followed what he told me all my life. You are his enemy!” “You misunderstand me.” He said “You weren’t brought here to be punished. You were brought here to be rescued.” “Rescued from what?” I spat out. “You’re the bad one!” He just looked at me sadly. “He had you so brainwashed you never even protested.” He got up, and walked to a corner of the room. “Tell me, if i was his enemy, would’ve I kept this?” He uncovered some wood, shaped in a way I knew well. My blood boiled. “That sacred thing you took for your trophy. You killed him!” “No,” he said calmly. “It is not a trophy, but a reminder of the great injustice done. To both of you.” “Sit down and listen, please. The last thing i want to have to do is force you, after what you’ve been through.” That made me pause for thought. He sounded merciful, the exact opposite of what he should be. So i sat down. “Let’s start at the beginning.” He said. “You were only 12 years old when he got you pregnant. And then he left you. Young, defenseless against the town shunning you when you started to show, labeled an adultress, the one you loved abandoning you. Until he realized the child would need a father if he was not there. So your love came back, but very begrudgingly. Then, a few months later you went into labor. In a cold and dirty cave, surrounded by beasts, with no midwife to help you. You were terrified. As the child grew, your only thought was to keep him alive. He moved out, as all children do, became a leader of a small group. A famous traveler. Until..” My voice caught as I choked back a sob. “Until the day they all turned on him.” “Yes, the worst day of your life. You never left his side. You watched him die in the worst way possible. The soldiers mocking him. You wanted to stop it. But you had no choice. His father had told you it had to happen. But then he came back. Absent through his entire childhood, dumping him off on another man, to watch your son die.” “He loved his stepfather, he truly did.” I was full out sobbing now, the blinders having been lifted off my eyes after all these years. “But he wanted to know his real father. Begged me for everything I knew about him. He wanted to do what his father told him to do, to please him. But he realized. That very last moment, when his father turned his back on him, he knew his selfishness. Crying out to him “Why have you left me?” Trying desperately to make his father acknowledge him as he had never done.” My enemy-turned-ally whispered quietly “And his father told you i had killed him. In truth, i sped up the process. Only harming him further to end his suffering faster. I had no choice but to do it that way.” “I know that now.” I said “May i see-?” “Yes,” He said “Of course you may see it.” I walked over to the wood in the corner. Ran my fingers over the thing that had killed my son. Remembered the holes in his wrists and feet after they had brought his body down. The thorn crown a mockery on my baby boy’s head. “Why is my son not here?” I asked. “You obviously care for him.” “Because his father has me locked out. And only one person can go from there to here.” “Me.” I said. “Yes. You were only 12 when you got pregnant, you never had a chance to fully understand the plan and your horrific sacrifice. And he knew that. Knew he could get away with asking a little girl to sacrifice her son to supposedly save the world, when all he had to do was snap his fingers to do so. But he’s obsessed with pain and suffering. He’s obsessed with you, his victim. He calls me the evil one, but he’s much worse.” “So what do I have to do to bring my son back?” He handed me a sword. “Use this very carefully. It kills everything in heaven, including having the power to kill your own son.” I hugged him. “Thanks Lucy. I’m sorry i was so blind.” He smiled “Never blame yourself Mary. You and Jesus are innocent. Bring him back here and you both can live in peace for the rest of eternity away from that psychopath who calls himself God.”"
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[WP] Singing a hit pop song at a local wishing well, someone has accidentally sold their soul (and a few pennies and dimes) for a kiss. The demon wasn't looking for this, but the collection seemed too easy to pass up. It just needed to figure out what a kiss was, exactly.
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"\"And this is craAAAAAHHHH!!\" The girl collapsed on the grass around the well and I slowly ascended from below. A smile was plastered across my face, unable to contain myself for this deal. The first sight, and I knew it was real.\n\n*Pennies and dimes for a kiss!* That's the wish she said she'd trade her eternal soul for.\n\n\"So, how does this work exactly?\" I asked, my legs landing gently at the edge of the wishing well as I shook a couple cents of change in my hand.\n\nShe stared at me, frozen with fear, but her gaze held me in place. She had a smart shirt and torn pants, her skin was showing. We were in stasis, staring at one another, until a hot wind blew and shocked her back to her senses. She bolted upright and sprinted away from the well, screaming.\n\n\"Where do you think you're going?\" I asked, floating after her smoothly. I wracked my brain trying to figure out what the heck a 'kiss' was in the meantime and jangled the coins in my hand as I chased her. I began getting too excited to wait and warped the ground in front of her to become a wall in her way. She screamed and spun towards me, eyes wide.\n\n\"What are you?\" she asked, hesitantly. I raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"I'm here for your soul,\" I said. Surely she understood how it went.\n\n\"I know how this works! I swear my soul to you, under the condition that you give me something in return! You gave me nothing at all!\" She turned to the wall and continued, \"And now you're in my way!\"\n\n\"Look, I'm just a little confused as to what the request was. You traded your soul for your wish. I pay you pennies and dimes and give you a kiss.\"\n\nShe stiffened.\n\n\"You mean the song??\" She screamed angrily.\n\n\"I... I dunno, maybe, I just need to know what a kiss is and we'll be on our way,\" I said, wetting my lips in anticipation.\n\n\"What? No, I was singing a song, where the lyrics say 'I'd trade my soul for a wish. Penn--'\"\n\n\"Yes, but you sang it as the wishing well as you threw coins in. I accepted your contract.\"\n\n\"Then I'll just never kiss you. I can live my life living with someone else.\"\n\n\"Not exactly. You sold it for *a* kiss, not a kiss *from me*. If I grant you anyone that will give you a wish at any point in your life, your soul is forfeit,\" I conjured a dictionary before me, and skipped to the Ks.\n\n\"That's not fair!!\" she screamed. I slammed the dictionary close in front of her face.\n\n\"First of all, gross. I can't believe humans do that with one another. Secondly, I'm a demon, I don't do *fair.*\" I shrugged, nonchalantly.\n\n\"So... I just have to not kiss anyone ever and I'm good?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yup, but I'm here to watch if anyone does so. A family member, a spouse, a dog, a--\"\n\n\"A ***dog*** counts??\" she yelled.\n\n\"I make the rules, so yeah. I'll be here a while, so take your time forgetting about the rule. I'll have plenty of time to make people infatuated with you in the meantime.\"\n\nShe frowned, looking at the floor. Then, she got a burning look in her eyes.\n\n\"Hey, I may have just met you, and this may be crazy, but you're on!\"\n\n_______________________________________________________\n\nI've been writing about demons a lot this week. Either r/WritingPrompts has a thing for them, or I do. Who knows? Also, first time I used lyrics to construct dialogue for my characters. Check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer to see more stories!"
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[WP] Write a story about a person with ADHD on a super secret spy mission
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"\n**Part One: A spy with ADHD on a Super Secret Spy Mission**\nThe Australian ProRevenge Version (warning: there will be swearing.)\n\n“Something ..something… TanMan… something mission…”\n\n“Wait what?! What was the mission?!” Jumble07 blurted, blue eyes wide with daydream surprise. She sat up straight in the chair like a school kid and faced forward.\n\nThe top dog of the Australian Secret Spy Service (ASSS) bared his teeth in a stiff smile. “C’mon Mate, the country is depending on you,” he said. “This is a one off chance to take that fucker out and we want to be the ones to do it, and you're the best shot we got.”\n\n“Sure thing, can do, no problem!” Jumble07 was quick to interject and she hurried on, “I was wondering, though, wouldn't it be better if I tried going through the last block on the right, and maybe cutting through, like a bit parkour but I saw a youtube last night and I think I can make the site? Then I can change and just go direct…”\n\nTop dog paused, then sighed. “Just stick to the mission. This needs to be done tonight or at least by first dawn, understood?”\n\n“Yeah no worries, will do, thanks a lot and, oh ok, yeah bye see you again, too easy.” She stopped talking. Outloud. \n\nInside Jumble07’s mind was still talking, one of the superpowers of functional ADHD: ‘Breathe. Ok, quick review, mission TanMan, tonight or tomorrow morning, no better make it tonight because time is tricky, so then just go straight there and set up now and wait for the shot like a normal sniper. C’mon J, you got this, this is what you trained for, 3 2 1 GO!’\n\nIt looks like Jumble07, otherwise known as J, explodes from the chair. She stands so quick she is halfway through the turn to the door before her feet hit the ground. She is at the door and can’t resist a cheeky push off the wall, channeling the parkour knowledge she had downloaded to her brain yesterday. \nUnfortunately, like a lot of what she knows, theory and practice can hit a wall. Literally. Jumble goes arse over tit. She laughs herself off the floor, opens the door mindfully, then starts running again, already assembling her kit in her mind. \n\nThis is precisely where J is at her best. Adrenalin, the dark cousin of nueromedicine, is her performance enhancing drug. Always has been. Crisis, trauma, mission, chaos, problem: Boom! Jumble is on and flowing like the weapon she is. Clear focus and oftentimes brilliant solutions pour from her. Big picture views have her anticipating and redirecting events before they can become issues. This skill is valued in her circles, in first responders, in front lines, in emergency services and through to startups, scientists, researchers and innovators. \n\nShe knows the pharmaceutical treatments for ADHD focus on dopamine pathways, and she believes in that too. But for sheer effectiveness, nothing sparks her core like danger and risk. Getting her kit together she throws in the gaffer tape, as always mumbling ‘fuck a duct tape’ in honor of her fallen American buddies. After what happened to Charlie8, she listens to the intuition which says she will need it. "
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[wp] You're just a guy trying to live an ordinary life. Too bad supervillains, monsters and other nasties have taken it up to themselves to make your life as miserable as possible. At least nothing should surprise you at this stage, right?
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" I wake up everyday at 6, a normal time for alot of people. But i dont wake up to the sound of alarm clocks. I wish i did, but i dont.\n\nI wake up to the sound of explosions. Every single morning something or someone decides to blow in my front door. It doesnt hurt my walls and it doesnt hurt my door much either. Just a scorch mark mostly.\n\nBut this morning i woke up to an alarm clock, im still abit groggy from waking up when i feel arms wrap around my waist. My first thought was to absolutely obliterate whoever this person was. Then i saw the tattoos on the arm. \n\nThese arms belonged to my boyfriend, who left me 3 years ago because he thought i was going crazy. I didnt want to believe it at first. I sat up and faced my boyfriend, how could it be? He left me three years ago. But this person looks exactly like him....\n\nI must have looked as confused as i felt because my boyfriend, ethan, woke up and sighed. \"That dream again?\" Ethan sat up and hugged me \"im here for you but you need to see someone about this.\" The feeling of his arms wrapping around me calmed my tense body. Maybe just maybe it really was a dream.\n\n\"Alright i will, thank you for being here. Not sure if i would be able to live without you.\" I hugged ethan back, settling into a blissful state. My ethan was right here hugging me once more. \"I wouldnt be able to live without you either. Thats why we are getting married today after all.\"\n\nHearing this made my body tense, me and ethan were getting married? Today? My blissfulness was short lived, while i wanted this something was off. I was in my head for a few moments when i heard ethan speak. \"Hello? Anyone home?\" \n\nI shook my head clearing my thoughts \"Sorry, its the wedding nerves. Im still can barely believe that we are finally getting married. It seems so surreal.\" I stretched and got out of the bed, once i put a pair of slippers on i turned around to face ethan \"im going to start getting ready. Make sure not to peak while im putting the dress on. You know the old saying.\"\n\nI walked into the kitchen and made myself some coffee, i absolutely despised this awful drink but its effects where still hard to beat. If anything the awful taste would help keep my brain sharp. \n\nA few hours passed and people i used to know and hang out with helped me get into the dress and do my makeup. Finally i walked down the aisle, i stood infront of ethan. After what seemed like forever i heard the words i both dreaded yet yearned for. \"You may now kiss the bride.\"\n\nI wanted to kiss ethan, but i knew better. This was not ethan. This was not a real wedding. This was all a lie. This was some sort of false reality. \"No. I dont know what makes you think you can get by with this but you cant. I wont let you.\"\n\nIt was like everything froze, like in those mannequin challenges. Everyone and everything except me was still. There was laughter coming from somewhere \"you were having fun werent you? If you surrender to me you can live the rest of your life here. You can be with friends and family. You could be with ethan.\"\n\n\"Yes i want to be with ethan and yes i want to be with my family. But ive changed. Im not the person i once was. Im not the person they knew. So, no. I wont surrender to you.\"\n\n\"You are stronger than i expected. Very well then. Carry on.\"\n\nThe sky began to fall and the false reality began to collapse around me. Before i was sent back to my world i managed to ask one last question. I wished i hadnt. \"What are you?!\" I screamed, desperate for an answer, this thing did not deserve to tease me with a lie and get away with it.\n\n\"The real question is what are you?\"\n\n\n.\n.\n.\n.\n.\n.\n.\n\nOh my dear goodness, im not used to writing like that. I lost track of time when i was writing. Accidentally deleted a good chunk of it and had to rewrite it. But it turned out better in the end.\n\nI really liked how this turned out. I was very intrigued by the prompt and i just had to try it. Didnt have a plan. Just kinda let the words flow. I havent proofread it yet. \n\nI would appreciate a healthy dose of constructive criticisim if you see anything wrong with it. I love to learn and grow in everything i do."
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[WP] A 3,000-year-long war finally comes to an end.
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"Sometimes the body does not realize it has been killed. The brain is gone, but it stumbles a few last steps before collapsing. Fingers hold down triggers. Fail-deadly mechanisms spring never feeling a pang of regret or hesitation.\n\nThere was no winner to the war as it slid to a stop. The vast ammunition elevators and cradles ran dry one by one, the storage depots slowly emptied, deserted hardpoints filled in with mud and grass. Artillery pieces stood as ivy-choked forests of steel trunks, still blaring ammunition depletion warnings if there was power at all. Automated bombers and fighters continued their endless sorties until one by one they failed, streaking from the sky with a tail of fire and smoke.\n\nWhat little remained standing were hollowed concrete corpses, burn scars pouring from every window, rusted barbed wire and burst sandbags littering every door. Across eras of rationing and shortage, sometimes metal had been more precious than anything. Great statues of our forgotten leaders had been reclaimed and fired shrieking overhead. Drone infantry poked up at odd angles where they'd drowned in the mud of forgotten offensives. Every horizon was broken by the silhouette of a blown-out HKV or stalker factory.\n\nOur ceilings were cracked under the weight of decades-long bombardments. The oldest generations were most afraid when the constant, rolling thunder stopped as the guns shouted themselves hoarse at long last. Some wondered who had won, not realizing that winning or losing had become an unreality since before our earliest stories began. Some could not abide that new world.\n\nNo one had seen the surface in a thousand years. The sun, longer still.\n\nThe vaults that never reopened were pried, one by one. Rubble and ghosts. Sour air. Poisoned water. Insurrection. Infertility. Food shortage. Disease. Sabotage. One had been opened directly into a local thermonuclear detonation and the population assembled in the access shaft to bear one final witness. Their reasons were not recorded, but the team who cleared the vault understood. \n\nNo one knew who had been allies, or enemies. On the surface we all looked the same- identical, ochre-colored moonwalkers with mirrored visors to protect from the cooked-off atmosphere. Life support lines and coolant tubes piped from the bulky support pack, tools and lights strapped to chests and wrists. ER-rifles hanging from rigging, the occasional paranoid boot or glove reaching out to jab a suspicious drone or system.\n\nOur leader met theirs on the chipped and cratered flight deck of a walk-carrier in the central Dust. They advanced to each other and shook without comment, hands separated by bulky, rubberized grip pads and tearproof canvas suit fabric. Faces hidden behind antiglare shielding, though they had briefly pushed up the heavier flash-protection visor, turning away from the sun to do so.\n\nWe left in the same manner they had, scavenging through the bloated innards of the walk-carrier. Our footsteps in the thin salt crust showed the path home."
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[WP] Your plane crashes onto a remote island, leaving you and a few other survivors alive. As you wander around the island, you notice your phone’s notification...it has connected to Wi-Fi. “I swear I’ve never been here before,” you tell the survivors.
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"We crawled out of the bright orange, burning wreckage. It was just me, Amber Jones, Rodney Williams and his girlfriend Joan.\n\nAmber was a sprightly young lady, with deep black inky eyes and black sable-like hair.\n\nShe gave the impression of an Italian Renaissance painting. She even had the smile of the Mona Lisa, but certainly not as quiet. She was brash and loud, but it clearly hid a deep insecurity. An insecurity I found intriguing.\n\n“Are you guys OK?” Amber asked.\n\nEverybody agreed they were shaken but alright. Several passengers, strangers whose memories were forgotten in the flames, burned in their plane seats. The smell was that of charcoal and burning plastic.\n\nI checked my phone out of pure habit, and noticed I had full WiFi bars.\n\n“Guys I have WiFi. Guess my phone’s broke,” I laughed uncomfortably. I swiped the screen and a webpage I had on my browser reloaded.\n\n“Guys. This is freaking weird. There’s internet here, somewhere. Maybe there’s a resort nearby,” I said.\n\nThey weren’t believing me, so I showed it to them. I tested out a YouTube video and it streamed quick.\n\nWe searched for the source of the WiFi signal, and found nothing but sand and pebbles. We ventured further toward the center of the island, over a steep stone wall. It was gray and chipped, with a jagged top edge.\n\nBelow us was a hole that led straight into the land. It resembled a volcano, except it didn’t go straight down into the ground, it was more of a steep grade.\n\nWe followed the hole into the land, and stepped over what looked like bone shards and skulls. Deeper and deeper we traveled, until no traces of light remained in the tunnel.\n\nI flipped on my phone flashlight to light the way.\n\nAfter an interminable journey, we came up a large screen planted in a wall. A multitude of square buttons sat before it, resembling something I imagined could be a keyboard for giants.\n\nI considered it could be Steve Jobs’ Batman lair, or an alien’s video editing console.\n\n“Well now we know where the signal comes from. It’s gotta be *damn strong* to reach so far,” I said.\n\n“What is it? I wonder if it’s aliens. I saw on Ancient Aliens once there’s this two billion year old ancient nuclear power plant, and it’s been active for half a million years, and they say its *natural*, but we all know it’s bullcrap, and —“\n\n“What’re we gonna do now? Can’t jus press the power button an’ do a google search,” Rodney said.\n\nI walked up to the keyboard, or at least that’s what I assumed it would be. There was a key with a symbol that looked like a sun icon. It was flecked with gold metallic surfaces. I pressed it – what the hell, I’d come this far.\n\nSuddenly, the whole room lit up in beams of blue and pink light. The light turned hot and shot all over the room, blasting chunks of stone to fine powder.\n\nEverybody ran. It was pure bedlam. I held Amber in my arms, and Rodney and Joan did the same. As Rodney and his girlfriend embraced, a blast of light overlapped their bodies, enveloped their flesh and disintegrated them thoroughly.\n\nThere was no escape. Amber and I embraced, fully accepting our fate. I prayed. I’d never prayed in my life, but it seemed like an appropriate way to end my time on Earth.\n\n“Jacob! Jacob! Look! No, turn your head, look!” Amber cried.\n\nThere I saw a small ventilation shaft leading from the floor to who-knew-where. It was just large enough for us to squeeze through, and we lunged in, narrowly avoiding the beams of light.\n\nWe found ourselves in another room. However this room was circular, and illuminated from above, through a tunnel that went straight up.\n\nBefore us stood a giant sphere. It had a metallic surface similar to aluminum, and it vaguely reminded me of the Sputnik probe.\n\nAs we approached, a hole opened in a flash, and a loud humming voice resounded through the tunnels in an alien voice.\n\nWe had nowhere else to go, so we entered the hole, a doorway to the unknown.\n\nThere was a screen that wrapped all the way around the wall facing us, and I could see it was showing the exterior surroundings. There was a sphere held in the air in front of the screen. I grasped the ball, and moved it a tad.\n\nThe ship went in whatever direction I moved the small ball.\n\nA giant blast of light consumed the room we were in, and I had no choice – I had to act. Amber’s life depended on it. \n\nUp we went, through the vertical tunnel, up into the atmosphere. We saw the island below explode, scorching the area for miles in all directions.\n\nWe traveled out of the atmosphere, into the cold reaches of the solar system. Amber was harried but calm. She was calmer than usual.\n\n“You’re awfully quiet, Amber.”\n\n“I’m trying to process everything, it all happened so fast. First the passengers, then Rodney... Joan... why did the plane go down? Why did we fall in the only damn island that just happened to have WiFi... why the *HELL* did you press that butt—“\n\n“Amber, calm down. I’ve got this. I just have to learn how to work this ball thingie, and steer us home.”\n\n“I don’t know Jacob. I just...” She started to weep, and I couldn’t stand it when she started to break down. \n\nI hugged her, and she grabbed me so tight I thought I’d suffocate.\n\n“Thank you, for everything,” she said.\n\n“Don’t thank me ye—“\n\nAll of a sudden, like a bullhorn, the ship let off a cacophonous shrill, and the ball fell to the floor. I was at a total loss. We were lost forever. Gone to the void.\n\nThe ship turned, and we were catapulted back toward earth. \n\n“Autopilot! We’re going back!” I said.\n\n“Oh no, not back to that wretched island!” Amber said.\n\nBut we weren’t going there. That was clear.\n\nI watched the European continent enlarge as we approached, and we landed at the tip of a boot shaped country. We were on the coast of Italy.\n\nThe spherical ship, burnt but serviceable, glided to a pebbly beach in a remote section of the coast.\n\nAs we stepped out, we viewed the panorama, and Amber gazed into my eyes.\n\n“Babe, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” I quipped.\n\n“Dork” Amber said.\n\nAmber took my hand, and we walked to the midland cliff, a sunset falling in the cobalt sky."
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[WP] You were the elite amongst the grim reapers, now the butt of all jokes. You were asked to pick up the soul of a 5-year old girl, practically an everyday routine. Upon arrival, you introduced yourself as Death, but the girl unfortunately misheard that, and she replied “hello mr... Dave”.
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"Bemused by her innocence, you decide to play along. Yes, I'm Dave. I've come to collect you.\n\nWhere are we going, Mr. Dave? She doesn't seem the least bit frightened by your gaunt features, nor of the scythe you carried. I'm taking you to a better place. Your face is the portrait of a deep sadness that transcends lifetimes.\n\nWill that place make it not hurt anymore? For such a young age, she experienced so much more than most adults. She shifted slightly, causing the IV bag to swing slightly by the sudden movement. The light from the moon reflected off of your blade and landed on her head, now devoid of hair. But mommy will be sad if I leave. She furrowed her little brow, deciding what to do.\n\nThis was an everyday occurrence for you. But something was different about it. Looking at her face, you see something that sparks a feeling you haven't had in millennia. She was strikingly similar to your daughter, who died of the same disease. You haven't thought about her since becoming Death, and yet this little girl so easily broke through your shell.\n\nIt won't hurt anymore, you'll be free of pain. And yet saying that, you felt a twinge in your long dead heart. Why is this so much harder than all of the other reapings?"
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[WP] Over the past few years, you have felt a presence following you until one morning you bring your half-wake self into the bathroom. When you look up into the mirror from washing your face, you see your reflection, only it's covered in fresh scars and barely manages to say, "Help me..."
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"\"What?\" I asked, but it was already gone. I could have sworn that someone else was in my mirror. I studied my face gently, smoothing out my face looking for any of the scars I had just witnessed. \n\n\"Hello?\" I asked again, looking deeply into the mirror. Nothing. I shook it off. I was exhausted. Clearly I was hallucinating things. Uncannily real looking things.\n\nI headed back to bed, hoping to sleep this feeling off. Again, I felt like someone was watching me. I flipped behind me, and saw nothing. I picked up my phone and turned on the flashlight.\n\n\"Is someone there?\" I saw my reflection in my phone. It was the same face as earlier. Scarred, terrified, in pain.\n\n\"Help me...\" it pleaded.\n\nIt faded away again.\n\n\"Who are you!? How do I help you!\" I screamed at my phone. My own face looked back at me now. I was disheveled and tired. I kept looking away from my phone and back to it. Nothing new. Always just me. \n\nI laid down in bed, unable to think of anything else. I wasn't cold, but I pulled the covers very tightly over me. I felt like I was being watched...\n\nI woke, and stretched luxuriously. I felt much better now, no ominous feeling or anything. Today was gonna be great! I threw off my covers and waltzed into my bathroom. I pulled out my toothbrush and applied the toothpaste... and felt like I was being watched. I pushed away the feeling and started brushing. When I looked into the mirror, I saw the scarred face as my reflection. It was worried, and had my toothbrush in its mouth.\n\n\"Helb ma...\" it said, around my toothbrush.\n\n\"Wha?\" I asked, but it was gone again. I spat out the toothpaste. \n\n\"How am I supposed to help you!?\" I yelled. \n\nI got on my clothes, getting ready to go to school. I went towards the bathroom again to brush my hair and felt like I was being watched. \n\n*\"Oh no..\"* I mumbled under my breathed. I picked up my brush and looked up. The scarred face looked at me earnestly as it brushed its unkempt hair with one hand and smoothed out wrinkles with the other. \n\n\"Help me...\" it begged. \n\n\"I got it, I got it, but I don't know what you want. I have to go to school.\" \n\nIt faded away from my face and I continued my morning routine. I headed to the kitchen and pulled out a gallon of milk, some cereal, and a slice of bread. I had the feeling again. I resented it now. But there wasn't anything to look at my reflection on in here. It would have to figure out how to help itself. I approached the toaster and there the face was looking up in the lopsided reflection.\n\n\"Help me...\" it said, putting the bread in the toaster.\n\n\"Shut up! I'm not gonna help you! I can't help you! I'm going to school!\" \n\nIt faded away again. \n\nI ate my breakfast and headed to the front door. I locked the door behind me and felt like I was being watched. I closed my eyes tightly. If I couldn't see it, it wouldn't annoy me. I started to feel my way to go to the street. I'd just have to drive to school without looking in the mirrors. That probably wasn't safe, but it was better than the alternative.\n\n\"Help me--\"\n\n\"OH MY GOD, SHUT UP!\" I exploded. I couldn't believe it could still talk when I refused to look at it. I opened my eyes to glare at the face only to be met by my neighbor struggling to pick up a TV on his own. I cringed internally and started stammering an apology as he quickly looked away from me. But in his TV I could see my reflection.\n\n\"Help me...\" the scarred face said, with a hint of a smile.\n\n_________________________________________________________\n\nFor more subversion of prompt expectations, check out /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!"
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[WP] It’s 1916 and you’re a British soldier in France during World War 1. Your platoon is about to cross into No Man’s Land to attack a German trench. You and everyone around is scared to death, explosions are close by, and you are certain you won’t make it out alive. There is no turning back now.
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"Jonny Andrews was a young boy, high spirited, hopeful and full of dreams. He was an only child, the darling of his mother's eyes, his father though strict loved his son as well. Jonny spent his days working in his fathers butcher shop at the front counter serving customers, chatting to neighbours and other members of the village.\n\nWhile he had to work early, his father rousing him at 5 am every morning and he worked hard cleaning the shop front, setting up the displays. He worked the whole day not finishing until 6 pm. Jonny liked the work and his father paid him 20 shilling a week, he got an hour for lunch where he could go over to the library and chat to Lily. In addition to this he did not have to work, Fridays and Saturdays. \n\nWhen Jonny was not working he liked to hang out with his friends, Douglas and Michael. They'd walk around the village and the nearby woodlands and fields. Chatting about all manner of things from girls to life and the war in Europe. Occasionally they would ride their bicycles, but Jonny's was old and battered. He had his eye on the new Raleigh No 29 Road Racer Mr Smith had just got in. \n\nEvery lunch break and on days he was not with Douglas and Michael he liked to spend time with Lily. She was around his age and was training to be the new librarian. Every time he saw her his heart beat faster and his stomach did somersaults. They liked to take long walks through the woods, sometimes she would link her arm with his or hold his hand and gently lean into him. On Saturday afternoons in the summer they liked to sit out by the river and soak their feet in the cool water while eating sandwiches or ice cream. \n\nJonny Andrews had nothing to complain about in life. He was the most carefree boy in the world. \n\nNow he lay in a foreign field, smoke and mud and lead flying all around him. Laying low in a bloodied trench filled with the stench of fear and death. Jonny Andrews was gone. Private John Andrews of 11st Brigade remained. Jonny had died a gruesome brutal death on July the 16th, 1916. The first day of what would later be known as the Battle of the Bazentin Ridge. The whistle had blown and over the top they went rushing across no-man's land through the smoke, artillery shells raining down amongst them, mud flung up in his face by the men running in front of him. \n\nAcross the gap he went, the ground once solid not that long ago was now a churning mass of mud. Jonny slipped and slid as he rushed across trying to avoid the rifle fire from the opposite trenches. A man went down beside him, but Jonny had no time to check who it was and could only hope it was not his new friend Richard. \n\nSuddenly he went down, crashing face first into the mud, choking as it filled his mouth. There was no pain, Richard had told him getting shot hurt. That's what Richard said his father had told him, it hurts bad Richard reiterated to Jonny the night before in the trenches. Climbing to his feet and saw what had caused his fall. The churning mass of mud that separated them from the enemy trenches was littered with the dead. Men who had found a reprieve from the eternal pain and torment of this war. Continuing his run he ensured the bayonet was fixed to the end of his rifle and dove at the enemy trench. \n\nHe had been in battle before, but that was shooting at the enemy from a distance. Sitting in a safe vantage point it was easy to believe all the propaganda driven into them at home in the newspapers and on the wireless. Easy to believe hatred drilled into them by the officers from the first day of training to the second the whistle blows.\n\nThis was the first time he had been in close combat and he was terrified. It was chaos. Every man fought with an utter desperation to ensure that he would see the sunrise the next day. Jonny was stood on the edge of the trench frozen in fear until a hard shove in the back forced him down into the trench. Screaming, smoke and blood all assaulted his senses as Jonny thrust wildly with his bayonet.\n\nHis rifle was wrenched from his hands as it lodged body in the seething mass of battle. Backing away he drew his knife as his back hit the wall of the trench and he was confront by a German solider. The two stared at each other, frozen in the heat of battle. Each just stared at the reflection of himself. \n\nJonny made the first move, lunging forward his knife held out. This German solider was just like him, a young boy forced into war, taken from his home, his family and friends. Maybe there was someone he loved back home, maybe there was a German Lily whom this boy loved, whom he wrote to. Each had nothing against the other, but only one of them would live to see the days end and each was determined to make sure it was them.\n\nThe German grabbed Jonny's arm holding the knife and swung his own knife towards Jonny's gut and he stopped the German's knife with his free hand. The pair of them stuck in this pose, until Jonny brought his leg up and kicked at the German soldiers knee, a move he learned while wrestling with Michael and Douglas what seemed so long ago and his opponent crumbled. \n\nJonny drove his knife into the German's gut and his opponent fell to the ground and dragged Jonny with him. Jonny's knuckles were white as he gripped the knife so hard the handle dug into his wrist and cut him open. The German boy grabbed the back of Jonny's head and drew his gaze towards him. Mouth open he tried to speak but nothing came out but a strangled gurgle. Even if he could speak Jonny would not be able to understand his words, but he understood exactly what the soldier wanted from the sheer desperation in his eyes. Pulling the knife out of his gut he drew it across the soldiers throat and ignored the spray of blood that drenched his face unable to take his gaze from the soldier.\n\nIt was not the brutality of fighting and murdering. It was not the horror in the eyes of the man who was his enemy. Boys just as old as him forced into fighting for their country just as he was for his. Young and innocent fighting for something they did not understand, dying for a cause not their own.\n\nNo.It was the loss of the handkerchief that caused the death of Jonny Andrews, the young, hopeful and dreaming boy. The handkerchief that had been sent to him along with a letter from his sweetheart Lily. She had told him that she had slept with it clutched to her chest every night, she had carried it every where close to her skin for nearly two weeks. It was this small piece of cloth that kept Jonny from losing himself. He kept it close, fastened securely in his left breast pocket. \n\nEvery time he took out the small supple piece of silk he was transported. Transported away from the mud and blood. Transported away from the death and suffering and pain. He was taken away from the smoke and chemicals that choked a man's lungs. He was transported away from the thunder of artillery slamming into the ground and the shrieks of men as the thousands of tiny pieces of shrapnel found its targets. Instead he was home, walking the streets of the village arm in arm with Lily the morning after a rain. The cobbles were wet and everything smelt fresh and new. He was sat at the edge of the river, Lily resting her head on his shoulder as they soaked their feet and ate ham and cheese sandwiches.\n\nPrivate John William Andrews was all that remained. He sat in the blood soaked trench alone, others in his new brigade, the 11th, chatting quietly to each other, shared jokes and stories. Others read letters from loved ones, but Private Andrews had not received a letter in months. Jonny had intended to write to Lily and his mother and father the night her lost the handkerchief but that day Jonny had died and Private Andrews remained and he did not want to bring the same hopelessness and pain to others. Some more men slept, trying to get some rest before the next attack. Private Andrews sat alone a mixture of blood and water and mud soaked into his trousers but he did not care as chewed on the stale ration biscuit, trying to regain some energy before the battle of the day.\n\nIt was now the 18th of November and Private Andrews had lost all was Jonny over the last 4 months. He had been moved around different brigades, 101st, 34th, 40th and now the 11th. Douglas and Michael were gone, he had not spoken to them since the end of training and was not sure they were even still alive. Richard was also gone, torn apart by thousands of sharp pieces of metal as a shell exploded 5 feet away from them. After that he decided not to make friends anymore. These men were all just faces, faces in a never ending war. Men he fought alongside, men he relied on doing their job and they relied on him to do his.\n\nHe could remember some things about his old life. The woods around the village, his father's shop or Sunday dinner with his family. If he tried really hard he could faintly remember Lily and the long walks they took in the woods. He could faintly remember soaking his feet in the river or was that just wet feet from the blood and mud and water that collected at the bottom of the trench. He thought it was best this way, let his old life fade away. Where once he would sail across an ocean, walk a hundred miles just to see Lily smile, just to eat his mother's roast dinner, serve customers in his fathers shop. Now there was Private John William Andrews, there was the agonies of all-out war, the struggle for power, suffering and pain. \n\nMen began getting up, gathering their equipment and gear as officers began walking the line. Private Andrews threw the rest of his ration biscuit away and grabbed his rifle and joined the line as one last thought ran through his mind.\n\nHome. Far away from this war. A chance to live again. A chance to hope and dream. A chance to have a life. \n\nHe looked up and down the line. There was no hope, no life. Just pain and fear. \n\nThe whistle blew and the attack started.\n\nPrivate John William Andrews rose up into the gaping jaws of death. ",
"The whistle blew a short blast, shrill in the cold air.\n\nWe stood forward, ready to go over the top. Checked our guns, fixed bayonets, prepared ourselves.\n\nThe guns from behind us stopped still. A wave of silence washed over us, then the long blast of the whistle and over the top we go.\n\nPushing through the wire in no-mans land we see movement ahead as the enemy come out of their bunkers in a hurry. \n\nTo our right the rattle of a machine gun opens up - bang bang bang bang - ahead the enemies trench looms closer. We feel elation - we are going to make it. Then the men on either side of me collapse to the ground.\n\nI pound on, my heart in my throat, hoping, wishing that I will make it. To the enemy trench. To the rear lines for a hot bath. To home, where my sweetheart awaits. \n\nIt was not to be. I feel the burning pain in my side, once, twice, three times as the bullets hit my body and I go down. \n\nMy friends run on past, as I lie in the mud, struggling for breath. Unable to move I see them jump into the trenches and fight hand to hand with the enemy. \n\nI feel weak, so weak, and I pass out. \n\nI awaken days later in a field hospital. I don't know if I should be glad or not. My right leg is missing, and my side hurts. \n\nA vision of beauty sweeps into the room clad in white with a red cross on her hat. I try to speak, but find I cannot. She soothes me, and feeds me a hot broth. \n\nI learn later that had my friends not come back for me, that I wouldn't have made it.\n\nI soon find myself on the general ward now I am out of danger. The bed next to me is occupied by a gravely ill chap, and that afternoon the general comes by and places his medals on the bedstead. I learn from the other men that this means they don't think he will make it. \n\nAll I can think of is making it back to home, and my love. A few long feeling weeks later I return home. \n\nThe war grinds on. My brothers are not so fortunate. Half of my friends don't come home either. \n\nI remember the armistice. I remember paying my respects to my fallen comrades. I remember the lines of graves in the hot summer sun. The names on the memorial at Thiepval, stretching up to the ceiling. Every name a man whose body was never recovered. All 72,337 men.\n\nWe will remember them."
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[WP] Children on the Alpha Centauri colony get penpals of a similar age back on Earth, writing back and forth throughout their lives. It takes 4.4 years to send a message.
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"I braced myself for the contents of the journals I had waited almost five years for. So much had changed on the colony since I was sixteen, terraforming had been a massive success and at last we had an atmosphere similar to earth, the domes that kept us safe and isolated had come down and we were free to explore this brand new planet, Terrestria they called it. \n\nI cracked open the first journal eager yet scared to learn about what had happened to Jax over the years. Most children lost touch with their Earth pen pals, but for some reason we had kept in touch and through our journals and photos it was as if we had grown up next to each other despite never having met at all. \n\n“Dear Sarah, a lot has changed on Earth and not for the best I’m afraid, the attempts at reversing global warming was a massive failure, we don’t know what went wrong but scientists predict that acid rain will start to fall at unprecedented rates destroying crops and bringing famine rates are supposed to rise globally. I know by the time you get these entries the problems will either be solved or far worse. I can’t tell you how afraid I am.”\n\nThe first journal went on to describe the decimation of the poorer districts due to famine and toxic flash floods wiping away entire settlements as if they were a blight on the surface of the earth leaving nothing behind but a sense of emptiness as thousands vanished overnight. My heart was heavy and for the first time I wished Jax wasn’t as descriptive as he usually was. The fear, worry and stress of a sixteen year old kid we’re all jotted down recording what might be final piece of Earths history. \n\nFearing the worst I tore into the next journal desperate to find out what had happened to my friend. \n\n\n"
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[WP] Christmas comes around again, and you ask for the same gift you ask for every year from your hospital bed. "Give me death." You awake on Christmas day, and as your eyes open you see a cloaked figure stood by your bed. "Not what I meant dammit"
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"\"HEY\", Death said, in a way that wasn't so much speaking as it was appearing into my brain.\n\n\"This isn't what I meant, man! I'm awake! I'm alive still. I'm alive aren't I?\" I clenched my hand with the catheter in it and felt pain. *'Great, still pain'*.\n\n\"YOU SHOULD LEARN TO BE SPECIFIC WITH YOUR WISHES. DID YOU NEVER SEE ALADDIN?\" Somehow I could tell he was smirking at me in that, smug, skully way.\n\n\"I didn't know I was requesting my desires to Jafar for God's sake!\" \n\n\"IT WASN'T FOR HIS SAKE, BUT TECHNICALLY YOU DID ASK HIM. HE'S GOT A WICKED SENSE OF HUMOUR YOU KNOW. HAVE YOU NEVER READ GENISI-\"\n\n\"Enough! What's your plan with all this wit, to smug the life out of me?\" He was annoying. Really annoying. Death laughed at my irritation, which just made things worse because his laugh was like nails on a chalk-board fed through a symphony of crying newborns.\n\n\"MY PLAN, IS TO BE YOUR FRIEND FOR A WHILE\". He seemed genuine.\n\n\"Yeah, no thanks. You haven't exactly shown me to the light of friendship with all of this comedy\".\n\n\"OH NO, WE'RE NOT GOING TO THE LIGHT. WE'RE GOING TO GO SHOPPING\".\n\n\"Uh-uh, I want out. Man, I need to sober up, what the hell did they give me, acid?! NURSE, NURSE!\" I hammered on the alarm button that dangled near me.\n\n\"THAT WON'T WORK, I SENT HER TO SLEEP BEFORE I WALKED IN HERE\".\n\n\"You killed her and *not* me?! Urrrgh, just do it already!\"\n\n\"NONONO, I SENT HER TO SLEEP. I DON'T SPEAK IN METAPHORS; I ONLY DEAL IN ABSOLUTES\".\n\nI contemplated the offer for a while as Death stared at me. Stared somewhere through me or into me really if anything. The lack of eyeballs made it difficult to tell.\n\n\"Alright, but just so you know, I'm poor as shit. It's kinda one of the reasons I'm in here you know. Do you know anything about me, really?\"\n\n\"OH, THIS AND THAT. I KNOW THAT YOU COULD DO WITH A FRIEND\". He's got me there. A little friendship throughout this grand narrative of disinfected white room hopping might have been better if there was someone that would come to visit me from time to time. Anyone's better than no one. *'Shit, I hope he didn't hear me think that*.\n\n\"I HEARD YOU THINK THAT\"\n\n\"You are insufferable\".\n\n\"TECHNICALLY CORRECT, YES\".\n\n\"Alright, I'll get dressed then\".\n\n\"ACTUALLY, YOU NEED TO PUT THIS ON SO WE CAN TRAVEL DISCREETLY\". Death handed me a tattered black, hooded robe that smelled like a retirement home common-room, and he did so with another one of those effervescent smirks. I stared at him with incredulity.\n\n\"YOU KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS, RIGHT? WELL I'M GOING TO TAKE YOU SOMEWHERE WHERE THE SHOPS ARE OPEN. IT'S CHRISTMAS AFTER ALL\". He made a good point, for once.\n\n\"Fair enough\". I discarded my floral hospital gown and gowned up in the baggy robe that smelled of mummies. \"Before we go though, what's the plan of this little trip, this friendship, y'know, long-term?\"\n\n\"WELL, IT'S A COMPLICATED ARRANGEMENT. THE BEST I CAN PUT IT IS 'DEATH IS THE FRIEND OF BEING'. YOU'RE A BEING BUT YOU'RE NOT BEING A BEING AND YOU'VE NEVER REALLY BEEN A BEING.\"\n\n\"What a second, I thought you said you didn't talk in metaphors?\" Now it was my turn to look smug. Death laughed in that chalky, screamy way again.\n\n\"THAT'S MORE LIKE IT\".\n\nAnd that was the first day back to recovery.",
"Before I knew it, Death had gripped me around the neck with his bony grip and hissed, \"Well then next time be clearer, you little bitc-\"\n\n\"Ehem.\" A stern old lady crossed her arms in the doorway.\n\n\"Wait your turn, Martha. We can go in a second. I'm just teaching this little punk a lesson.\"\n\nShe rolled her eyes and shuffled away.\n\n\"Mmm.\" Death watched her. \"Look at that hot, young body.\" Then he turned to me again and, after staring at me for a few seconds, loosened his grip.\n\nI gasped. And I gagged. \"You think she's *hot*?!\"\n\n\"What the fu-SHHHH!\" He tightened his grip again, pushing me down into the pillowcase as he glanced over his shoulder. \"Listen. Hey! Eyes on my sockets. Nobody likes a cockblock, got it?\"\n\nI think my eyes rolled back in my head at that point, and that he might have taken it as me nodding because he, finally, let go. He stared at me for a few seconds like I would start talking again, but I was way too close to passing out for that.\n\nFinally, he turned to go. At the door, he said, \"Listen, kid, you have approximately fifteen more years to live, okay? I get youre in pain and all, but there's people going through way toughter sht. If you say \"Give me death\" again, I'ma come back here and stick this scythe so far up your bung-hole you'll really know what tougher sht is.\" \n\nThen he left. \n\nI don't complain anymore. "
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[WP] An island appears in the ocean, where no island has ever been before. All pictures of it come out black, all attempts to land there end with confused sailors or pilots miles off course. At last, a radio signal emits from the isle, broadcasting a curious message.
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"12 November 2018 0910 hrs\n\nMany set sail to seek riches and glory when the isle appeared. No on would’ve paid any attention if the images would’ve shown a new beach with rocks and sand. But as each aerial photo and satellite image showed a blurry darkness, curiosity was awakened. A few pilots tried to fly in close but they were lost on the way, only to be rescued miles from the supposed location. Some people decided that boats would be more reliable and met were unable to get in close enough to send a landing party. \nPeople began to say that the island was protected from the greed and no one with ill intent could reach the shore. \nTwo and a half weeks ago, we set out in the name of science. Tonight we should reach the shore. We are not swayed by the superstitious ramblings of the treasure hunters. We will discover the secrets of the new island. \n\n\n12 November 2018 2015 hrs\n\nThe sun is setting and all around me there is beauty like I’ve never seen. The colors surround us, but are blocked by the island. Somehow the light can not reach it. The island casts a spiny shadow nearly a mile long. \n\nAs our search lights reach the rocky shores, all speakers on board come alive with a horrible sound. Men fall to their knees and cover their ears. The captain runs to the helm and lowers the motor. As he does the sonar screen starts to crackle and the image changes. \n\nhttps://youtu.be/dQw4w9WgXcQ?t=43",
"\"Well? What does it say man?\"\n\nI fiddled with the small radio dials. The speaker was connected to a larger array which was meant to keep contact with space vehicles. Now it had turned it's gaze closer to home. Finally I settled on the right frequency.\n\nMy boss and I sat in silence as a voice repeated the same few phrases over and over again.\n\n\"What language is that? It's one I've never heard before.\" The question was directed to the linguist and historian next to me. \"Is it aliens? Speak up!\"\n\n\"I-I don't believe it!\" the linguist sputtered, \"this is the oldest language I've ever heard! Definitely not alien. It seems to be a combination of Latin and Sanskrit.\"\n\nMy boss didn't seem very satisfied by the answer. \"Golly man! What does that mean!\"\n\n\"Well,\" the linguist continued, \"the myths of both the Greeks and Hindus speak of a lost city, far more advanced than anything of their time. A sunken city.\"\n\nI turned my eyes to the radio. \"Maybe this could be it. Maybe we've finally caught up.\"\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\n​\n\nThe boat only contained a few people. Finally the strange island came into sight. All previous ships had been somehow veered off course. Now the glittering crystal spires shot up from the horizon. It went by many names, from many different cultures. One was commonly known to the western world. Atlantis had found them."
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[WP] You discover that thought is the most powerful force on earth and that if you can convince yourself of something it becomes true.
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"\"I'm handsome\", I remember thinking. \"I may have been a little homely when I was younger, but you know what? I'm handsome.\" Maybe this was true, though maybe I was just trying to convince myself––either way, it worked.\n\nThe next morning, my reflection was... different. Not obviously different, but different. The bridge of my nose was just a little thinner. My stubble was no longer sparse, but looked full and connected, seemingly sculpted to emphasize my jaw structure. This... wasn't me. But it was, and I knew it. Over time, I got used to the new handsome me and somehow rationed with myself that I've always looked this way, though I don't know if I ever truly believer it. It wasn't until a couple months later that I started putting the pieces together...\n\nHailey was a mutual friend of mine and Mike's, and I was beginning to take interest in her. She laughed at my jokes and always texted me when The Bachelor was on (it was my guilty pleasure show at the time). She was into me, I could feel it––but I didn't know for sure. Mike would tell me, \"You're in the friend-zone, Jared!\", but I would shrug it off. I grew more and more confident over time to the point that I *knew* she wanted me the way I wanted her. She always wanted to be around me! I laid awake for hours every night for a week, tortured by this knowledge and too fearful to do anything with it. \n\nOne night I finally worked up the courage. The two of us were alone at her place waiting for Mike to show up so we could watch *Princess Bride* for the umpteenth time. After an awkward few moments, I spilled my guts and told her how I had felt for the past couple of months. Before I could finish, she grabbed my hands and gleefully explained that she felt the exact same way! It felt like someone had just removed an anvil from my chest, I was so relieved! We spent the next 15 minutes or so chuckling about our mutual feelings and apprehensiveness to share them until she said the words I had been waiting for: \"Should we tell Mike not to come?\" Oh, I couldn't wait to rub it in his face, but Hailey wanted a more tactful approach. She said she would just tell him she had a migraine, which was a fairly regular occurrence. I agreed, but the doorbell rang before she could message him. Not knowing how long this might take, she handed me the phone and told me to explain the situation to Mike for fear that he might leave his house. I saw no problem with this––well, aside from the lying––and pulled up their latest message. That's when I saw it.\n\n\"I swear, I'm not into him! He's too much like my brother. It's weird lol.\" Sent one hour ago. But I knew she liked me––she had just told me! She came back out and suggested we watch something a little more romantic. We spent the night cuddling with occasional kissing, but I was too distracted to want to do anything more. We had a lovely night, but why did she like me now and not an hour ago? Did something change? It clicked. I thought of my identity crisis months prior. Something *did* change, and I somehow controlled it. But why did she like me now and not a week ago? I told myself she liked me for weeks, so what was it about now that was different? I had to find out, no matter what.\n\nI felt insane, but I didn't want to believe it, I didn't want it to be true! I had to experiment. What did I want to believe... money! Who doesn't need more money? I checked my wallet and found a lonely fiver. \"Guess I'll shoot for fifty\", I thought. I locked myself in my room all night just trying to isolate myself, to remove myself from reality. \"I have fifty dollars. There is a fifty dollar bill in my wallet right now. Mom gave it to me for my birthday and I forgot it was there.\" No dice, I was too connected. I had to do better, do more. I filled up the bathtub and turned off the lights. I turned turned on a YouTube loop of radio static. I don't know how long I was in there, but when I could take no more, I emerged. I truly believed my story. Mom's card was so sweet, it had a little hedgehog on the front on a pastel background. I had to hold onto that image, those emotions. I opened the wallet in full confidence and it was there––I was fifty dollars richer. Well, I wasn't, it had been there since my birthday. I knew I had unlocked something amazing, something limitless! This wasn't enough though, I had an idea. I knew this bathtub routine would grow old. This time, I told myself something different. \"I can convince myself of anything.\"\n\nHours upon hours later, it worked. Anything I told myself was true was true in my mind. My primal instincts kicked in. I wanted to be famous. I wanted every attractive female to want me. I wanted it all. But I didn't get it all, not in my timing. Something was stopping me, but I didn't know what. It would take days or weeks for my knowledge to become reality. I stewed in the agonizing dissonance between what I knew and what I witnessed in the world. \"I know why this is happening\", I said. This was not true, until one day it was.\n\nI saw it, the silhouette of a man. I heard it too, he was saying the words, \"Thoughts have no power\", repeating it like a mantra. This selfish *fool*. He knew the power of thought and used it only to ensure others couldn't? He was evil. I hated him. This explained it though––my knowledge could only come to fruition when this stranger was distracted, even for a millisecond. Luckily I knew who he was. Well, I knew that I knew, but it took a week for him to become distracted so that I *really* knew.\n\nJoseph Michael DiLorenzo. I saw him. Alone, emaciated, repeating the same words over and over. He saw me too. He knew––he knew what I wanted. But he couldn't do anything. The very nature of his mantra was oxymoronic. He *had* to repeat it for it to remain true, as the contradiction would resolve itself given the time. I knew this. I also knew one more thing: Joseph Michael DiLorenzo was dead.\n\nI knew he was dead, *I* *knew it*. But he wouldn't die. \"Joseph is distracted\", \"Joseph is hungry\", \"Joseph is dead.\" I screamed these phrases, I clawed at the walls, I rampaged naked around my apartment and scared off anyone who dared knock on my door. Joseph is dead, WHY ISN'T HE DEAD. The dissonance drove me mad like never before. My gums bled from teeth which remained clenched for hours at a time. Then one day, silence. My reality merged with the world's. My house was a mansion. More importantly though, Joseph Michael DiLorenzo was dead. I won, I had outlasted him in our war of attrition. The abhorrence-fueled madness began to subside and was replaced with elation. Everything I wanted, it was mine for the taking. No more Josephs in the way. \n\nNot a moment passed before the exhilaration shattered; I saw rising from the horizon the universe's new god: a lunatic with a deity complex. No, he was dead now, replaced within seconds by another, each bringing plagues of fire, floods, wicked locusts which tore up the unbelievers, and unspeakable depravity. This continued unceasingly, with each seemingly more terrible than the last. \"This isn't real.\", \"Everything is okay.\" It was not. I was not in control. Their knowledge was as powerful as mine. The ever-changing hell-beasts and abominations set their sights on me as the realities of the most insane, twisted psychopaths birthed themselves into the world. As they reached their claws, no, tendrils, wait, tentacles... whatever, towards me, I desperately searched for the truth which would be my salvation and also my damnation. \"Thoughts have no power.\" Suddenly, all was calm. Then chaos. \"Thoughts have no power.\" Peace again. I repeated the mantra. I repeated it over and over. Chaos tried to become real, but was confined to the cells of insane asylums. The world was safe––it is safe now... safe from the knowledge of the power it has. But this is my life now. I am the sole protector of the little order in the universe.\n\nAs I write this, I am certain that there are natural disasters breaking out, but everything is okay. There is no chaos. For fear that I will meet the same fate as Joseph Michael DiLorenzo, this is the last time I will allow myself to be distracted from my duty. I need no food. I need no water. I need no sleep. I need nothing. I am immortal. I have limitless endurance. I will continue to carry out my duty until all conscious thought in the universe has ceased. Thoughts have no power."
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[WP] You just got a job and you’re going to be around a lot of people. A lot of people will have to speak with you, but the problem is no one wants to address you by your actual name. However, you refuse to be addressed otherwise.
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"I walked slowly into the boardroom. I had been building my career for years; going through countless tedious jobs, insufferable management and climbing my way past idiotic colleagues. It had all led to this one moment: my first meeting as a director of the company I had worked so tirelessly for. \n\"Aha, nice to see you, sir,\" one of the other directors, Stephen Wells, said as I entered. \nI nodded at him and gave a wry smile. I placed my briefcase down on the desk and took up my chair. \n\"Do you have the paperwork?\" A second man of the board, Henry Tomlinson, asked. \nWells shook his head and gestured towards me, \"he...er...Mr...he... should have it.\"\nI gave him an odd look for stumbling over the use of my name. Yes, it was a strange name; a little uncouth maybe in some situations, but this was a directors meeting and I was hoping that we could be professional. \n\"Ah yes... uhum...\" Tomlinson coughed, \"do you, er, have them, er Mr...ahem!\" He coughed again. \nI shot daggers at the pair for stumbling a second time, but I took the papers out of my briefcase and passed them across. I wondered for a moment how long they would last, with their childish antics. I decided that I would only respond on use of my actual name. \n\n\"So um... Mr... AHEM...\" Wells coughed. \n\"Cough sweet?\" I offered, taking an old tube of soothers from my briefcase. \n\"I'm fine,\" he replied. \"Sorry. Where was I? Ah yes, do you have the signed contracts for the Verihauser deal?\"\nI ignored him. I knew the contracts were in my bag, but I wasn't playing silly games. No, he was going to address me properly. \n\"Ahem!\" He coughed once more, to grab my attention. \n\"Take a sweet,\" I offered again. \n\"The contracts?\" He asked. \n\"Oh, you mean me?\" I asked, a little too bluntly, maybe. \n\"Yes.\"\n\"Sorry, you just didn't say,\" I pointedly replied. \nWells turned slightly pale. \n\"Sorry... so... do you have them?\" He asked. \n\"Sorry, do you have a problem?\" I asked. \n\"No? A problem? No, no, why would you think that?\" He stammered. \n\"You refuse to address me by my name,\"\nHe swallowed. \"Sorry...Richard.\"\nI should have accepted it but it wasn't a huge imposition for them to address me correctly with my full name as they did for each other. I too deserved the same respect. \n\"My whole name, surely, is not too much of an ask?\"\nHe cleared his throat. \"You are right, sorry, Mr Buttocks... Richard, sorry... Dick Buttocks.\" \n\n\n\n\n\n\n(Hehe dickbutt). "
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[WP] We always hear about heroes we need but dont deserve. You are the hero we deserve but dont need.
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"We all need a reason to get up in the mornings. Me, I like to give people their humanity, to allow them to live their lives as they choose. It's what I do.\n\nSergeant Saviour is at your service, with powers innumerable, immeasurable. Nobody knows why or how, but we all stopped questioning it a long time ago. Dashing across the city night and day, never ceasing in dutiful guardianship of the people. Saving puppies, catching criminals, stopping the occasional plane crash... I'm sure you understand how *marvellous* it is. On days off (never announced to the public, for fear that undesirables would use it to their advantage) we build houses for homeless veterans. Several dozen of them, in fact. *Per day*.\n\nThey're the ones who coined the moniker 'Sergeant Saviour'. Everyone loves it, but I think it's cheesy. Not that I'd ever tell anyone, obviously.\n\nToday, Ol' Sarge is helping an old lady cross the road. Nope, I'm not joking. Do you seriously think that criminals would dare roam the streets when they know that they have a supernatural vigilante watching their every move? Crime doesn't exist here - we haven't had a murder in eight years. Last April some poor fool thought it would be a good idea to rob a restaurant though. Tourists, eh? \n\nAnyway, this old lady - her name is Olga and she's lovely, reminds me of my nan - was trying to cross the road to her favourite cafe, but it's a four-lane affair and her knees aren't what they used to be. She was so thankful to see Sergeant Saviour appear through the gloom, golden uniform resplendent and pristine as always. She's halfway across the road now, gritting her teeth as she wills herself along despite the assistance. It must be painful for her, but she's doing awfully well.\n\nShe doesn't grit her teeth because of the pain. He makes us live our best lives, whether we like it or not, and she can't bear him. Nobody can. He's just too heroic for that.\n\nBut he never saw me coming. Nobody ever does. As my tainted blade slides across his throat, blood flows.\n\nBefore he's even hit the floor, the city has changed. Sirens wail, bystanders start to panic and flee.\n\nI have ended the tyranny of Sergeant Saviour.\n\nThe people have their humanity again.\n",
"People always throw stuff at me when I helped them. I understand that SOME people don't want my help, but they deserve my help. I like my job, yes, this is my job and people don't make it easier for me, but I always wanted to do that, to be someone with superpowers to be a part of the good side of community.\n\nHow it started? I don't really remember, just something snap inside of me, like switch in my brain. After that moment my first \"jobs\" are for people in my closest group, first family, then friends. They looked at me like for some sort of mutant or alien, but I didn't get angry, I understood. After a good month my mother made me a costume, she said \"if you wanna be a superhero, you need a costume, with cape and mask.\". That was 3 years ago.\n\nToday I patrolled some suburbs for disturbance in my fiat panda. Day was boring, like every bad thing went to vacation, but my patience was rewarded. Smoke was coming from house and I don't mean chimney. Something was burning inside and I think family was outside, waiting for fire department. That was my chance! I drove faster to match my car with people outside. I rolled down my window and used my power\n\n*Hey! This house is on fire!* Knowing that job was done I drove away, hearing only one sentence from head of family. *Fuck you Captain obvious!*"
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[WP] Upon leaving your house, you are arrested by the Time Police for future crimes against humanity.
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"Sir, you need to come with us.\n\nWhy?, freaked, as I close the front door.\n\nHave you been thinking lately? Asks the police\n\nAm I suppose not to be thinking? I replies\n\nIt’s better that you don’t, all we can explain at this time is your in trouble for some serious, and we mean serious thoughts.\n\nAnd what thoughts would they be? challenging the question with a smirk on my face.\n\nThe police step closer starring into my eyes. “Oh you’ll see” The officer replies.\n\nAs both the police takes my arm and I question; And what will you do if I don’t comply?\n\nWe will simply erase your mind. Replies officer number 2 in a more serious tone.\n\nYou can’t do that, aggressively squirming grip from the officers.\n\nOh Yes we can. Which means No existence, No family and No life. Oh and no bed comfort ribbon which you call kuggie. \n\nHa! I don’t believe you. Calling their bluff\n\nAlright, if that’s the way you want to play.\n \nOfficer three proceeds to hold his hand against the centre of my forehead; and like magic I disintegrate. My body falls to the ground and disovles like a scrambled tv channel transforming into water droplets which wet the pavement.\n\nWhatever I had done has now been restored back to the past and my family never knew I existed. Any damage I had caused no longer exists. \n\nthe moral of this story is not to mess with the time police, oh and don’t think. Otherwise you may just end up like me, a monologue voice that’s currently talking to you as you read my plea of existence."
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[WP] Growing up you had an imaginary friend. This friend is actual demon, poltergeist, supernatural being that has the ability to move things and change things, mostly harmless. Well, you guys muck around all the time but today it's a problem. There's a ghost hunting group in town for a tv show.
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"I first saw Tommy when I was three years old. He never gave me any bad impressions, he just sometimes has to go on trips for his dad. Tommy never seemed to like going on these trips with his dad. I asked one time why he seemed so upset before he went on his next trip for/with his dad. He said his Dad wasn't the nicest person and he made him do things he didn't like doing on these trips. I tried to get more out of Tommy but he refused to answer any of my questions. \n\nA few days later, Tommy told me he is a demon but he didn't want to be a bad demon when he could help it. I asked him if his \"dad\" was Lucifer and he said yes. I never asked what Tommy did on his trips, but every time he went on his trips the papers would discuss someone who died under mysterious circumstances. \n\nAfter my fifteenth birthday, Tommy took me down to the river. I kept asking him why he was taking me here but he refused to answer my questions.\n\n When we arrived at the river he said \" It's time I show you want I can do so we can have fun messing with everyone.\" \"What are you talking about Tommy?\" \"I told you how I am a demon, I can do many things with my powers the only time I don't have control over myself is when the full moon comes, that is when Father demands my powers to be released from within me. He enjoys how you humans act when demons powers influence those around.\" \n\n\"Wait, that's why mom says all the crazies come out when there is a full moon?\" I shout.\n\n \"Yes. That's why I go on trips twice a month. One is for the full moon and the second one is to do dad's dirty work.\" Tommy responds in his husky voice.\n\n\"So what can you do with your powers?\" I reluctantly say.\n\n\"Jenny, you don't need to be scared of me. I can tell you are hesitant of what I am but I am your friend. That's why I leave during full moons, I don't want you to get hurt because of me. Anyways, I can pretty do anything you can imagine with my powers be invisible, teleport, etc.\"\n\n\"Prove it then Tommy!\" I say with a hint of sass.\n\n\"Alright, you asked for it sweetheart. Just remember that.\" He says with a boyish grin.\n\nSuddenly, the ground beneath me begins to shake violently. Tommy rushes toward me, grabbing me hard and jumps up. I feel wind all around me and I finally muster up enough courage to open my eyes. \n\nTo my amazement we are at the ocean. \"How did you know I have never been to the ocean?\" I say in disbelief.\n\n\"Honey, I've known you since you were three. Of course I'm going to know. Now, are you ready to boogie board?\" He says with joy.\n\n\"Yes!\" I exclaim.\n\nWhen we return home the whole town is talking about the so-called ghost hunters. \n\n\"Aren't you a little concerned Tommy?\" I say anxiously.\n\n\"No, I'm gonna mess with these guys so much tonight you have no idea Jenny, this is fun for me. You can't follow me there though, I don't want you getting involved.\"\n\n\"What do you mean involved?\" I exclaim. \"I mean, you stay home, while I mess with these foolish humans, they never seem to leave things alone do they?\" \"Please just be careful for me and don't get caught.\"\n\n\"I'll be just fine, I promise\" He embraces me and gives me a kiss on the forehead to say goodbye, for now at least.\n\nThe next morning I wake up to hear the television turned up all the way. I can only make out a few words in my groggy state \"Devil. Capture.\" I sit up all of the way as I feel all the hairs on my neck stand up. I put on my robe and slippers as fast as I can and go to the t.v. My parents, grandparents and cousins are all in front of the t.v. watching the ghost hunters explaining how they caught the demon. \n\nMy stomach drops, everything goes black as I fall to the floor. \n\nI open my eyes, I'm in a void of black. There is a fireplace with a chair faced towards the fire. I get up on my feet and walk towards the fire and chair. \n\n\"STOP\" the disembodied voice yells. I halt to a stop, jolted by the power within the voice. \n\n\"Who are you? Where am I? Why am I here?\" I ask the stranger.\n\n\"Humans, you all have so many questions before you even properly look. Jenny Jameson is it? Look and feel around you and make your own observations foolish girl before such stupid questions are asked.\" \n\n*I look around and still see nothing, but I feel fire, desire and...sin? I feel sinful, I feel banished away. This is Hell. What am I doing here?* \n\n\"You aren't gonna get my soul today Satan!\" I brazenly yell towards the fire. \n\nLaughter surrounds me, it echoes all around me and is so loud my ears begin to ring. The owner of the voice gets up and makes his way towards me. \n\nHis eyes are brownish black, he gives me an evil smile and says \"Even if it means your precious Tommy's life?\" \n\n​"
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[WP] Although you are the supreme evil overlord, your attitude is always positive and your minions love working for you.
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"The sun is starting to come up and shyly starts to peak over the enormous mansion that Larry lives in. The first sun-rays hit the marble fountain. Water gently dabbles in the fountain providing a soothing streaming sound as water streams back into the ruby blue base of the fountain.\n \nSlowly Larry starts to wake in his room, his room the size of four normal bedrooms, with a big bed in the middle that could easily fit five people, a television so big one could think they were in a movie theater and a fireplace, which looks unused since the last winter. As Larry gets up, his wife still sleeping in their bed, he walks towards the windows and opens the shades, a big smile appears on his face as he stretches. As the sun hits his face his shining white teeth seems to sparkle a little bit more and he has to blink his dark brown eyes because of the brightness.\nAs he is done stretching he exhales loudly and he turns around, goes to the closet and gets dressed. His pants are gray slacks, they look safe and boring, there isn’t anything wrong with them they are just bland. He puts on a gray jacket that matches the blandness of the slacks. The ensemble makes him look boring but at the same time approachable, casual and relatable.\n\nLarry whistles a cheerful song as he walks towards his dining room, in the distance he hears children playing and making noise. *“Must be the nanny getting them ready for school”*, he thinks to himself. As he gets to the dining room he takes place on one end of one of the three large tables that are in the room. Each with a crystal chandelier above them. He picks up the newspaper that was laid out for him there and a chipper lady walks up, *“The regular sir?”*, Larry nods and smiles as the woman shuffles away slowly, while her face is chipper she isn't as fast anymore as she was in her youth.\nA few minutes pass as Larry reads his paper in silence and slowly the lady returns with a tray filled with a croissant with cheese, toast with a poached egg, a cappuccino and a glass of water. Larry thanks the woman as she shuffles back towards where she came from, she smiles and assures him it is her pleasure.\n\nLarry finishes his breakfast, he brushes of the crumbs that have fallen on his collar and moseys of towards the garage. His garage, while big, is not as big as one might suspect from seeing his mansion. Instead of the forty gas guzzlers one might suspect he would have, he has a few eco friendly vehicles in his garage. His prize car being a Tesla Roadster, the first highway legal serial production all-electric car. The car he actually uses daily however is a gray Toyota Prius. Much like his suit, the car looked boring and bland. Again there was nothing wrong with the car, one might even admire the eco-friendlyness of the car, but it felt like both the car and the suit have no personality to them, no boldness, no spark. As if their purpose is to simply be effective and as inoffensive as possible as a way to not draw any unwanted attention to himself.\n\nHis ride to the office was very uneventful, he took his usual route and arrived at his office without any issue. His office being a big building made out of as much windows as possible on the outside. Bright colored letters on the side of building, people smiling and biking around on brightly colored bikes in the area of the office. He enters the building and takes the special elevator, walks into his office, sits down. He lets out a sigh and a contend smile appears on his face as he thinks to himself *“life is good as the CEO of Alphabet”*."
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[WP] As you’re laying in bed trying to fall asleep, the monster under your bed suddenly crawls out from under the bed. He glances from you to the door and growls anxiously, “Uh, I don’t want to alarm you, but...I think I heard a noise coming from downstairs...”
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"My nostrils were greeted by the creatures putrid, rank aroma that washed over me like a tidal wave of trash. I fought off bouts of revulsion, disgust, and terror as I saw it writhe closer to my bedroom door.\n\n“Listen to me human,” it hissed as it turned its menacingly evil face towards mine. “I have all the right to kill you and eat you in your sleep at any time that I want… But whatever is stalking you below us…” the monster seemed to hesitate. “It means to kill everything in this house. Including me.”\n\nTerror gripped my heart as I drew my bedsheets in closer, hoping that this parade of nightmares would pass like a turbulent storm out on open water, it’s cold lashings of wind biting deep into any soul stupid enough to sail through it.\n\n“I… I…” I stammered heavily trying to think my way out of an impossible situation.\n\n“I can hear it coming up the stairs!” the creature exclaimed, it’s screeching voice reaching a fevered pitch.\n\nMy bed frame rocked back and forth like the tide lapping against the hull of a great ship as the the creature sloughed itself from sight, oozing it’s way back underneath the crack.\n\nI turned my gaze to the bedroom door, the light shining freely underneath cast rays across the floor.\n\nSlowly, the light filtering underneath the door turned to darkness as some mass blotted it out like a maleficent solar eclipse.\n\nThe door to my bedroom was thrown open with a loud slam; I stared deeply into the eyes of the most diabolical entity that I could ever imagine.",
"A hollow gasp started to evoke - -\n\nThe monsters gigantic hands shut my mouth closed. \n\nMy eyes peered down, trying to make sense of what’s going on, and frankly, the size of the beast before me. His arm was thick and covered in a light blue coat, tulip pink spots scattered across. My gaze shifted upwards to broad, fuzzy shoulders and a head of the same detail. All respectively covered in pink spots, of course. \n\n“You have to be quiet, “ the monster said. His face was anxious, worried even. As worried as a giant blue fluff-ball of a monster could look. \n\n“You’re unaware of my existence but I’ve been with you since you were a small child- watching, protecting. Something bad is happening and I need you to work with me.” The monster said to me in a hushed tone. \n\nWorking this over in my head was similar to rusty gears being turned on after one hundred years of inoperability. A monster? Protecting me? Since a child I’ve been told monsters were just figments of my imagination. Inner-workings of an overactive, paranoid mind. \n\n*THUD* \n\nA slight squirm took over my body. There really was someone lurking about in my house. \n\n“There is another monster here. It’s name is Teeth.”\n\nCavernous stomps echoed above my headboard, directly where the attic was. It was in the fucking attic. I began to think this was some sort of fever dream. Maybe a bad combination with my anxiety meds and the sleeping pills I took earlier. I had to be hallucinating, of course. Perhaps if I just shut my eyes the nightmare will cease. \n\n“This is not a dream, boy.” The monster bellowed, dust particles twinkling down from the heavy stomps of ‘Teeth’ above. His voice was larger than before, serious. \n\n“Teeth has lived in your attic since you bought this house, lying dormant. It’s an insidious beast, cast away from the Heavens because God was ashamed of creating an entity so hideous.”\n\nGreat, now there’s a God? How many revelations will I be having on this night? \n\n“I am your guardian angel, my name is Sullivan. I’m delighted to finally meet you.” \n\nIn one fell swoop Sullivan released his grip from my mouth and propelled his frame upwards, straight into the floor of my attic. Drywall crashes to the ground and I am left to a front row seat to a battle of monsters. A tumultuous fight between good and evil. \n\n“What the fuck?” I let out, possibly in the most confused and utterly terrified state in my life. \n\n\n\n\n\n",
"The silhouette of my shadow brought himself more prominently into reality, pushing towards perception until he stood there, in the middle of the room, a look of concern visible somehow despite his featureless face. I met his eyes with a glance, stretched, and we crept downstairs together, him stepping in my shadow to follow my footsteps.\n\nThe SWAT team below had already fanned out. Most likely they had already cased the bottom two floors. They were likely saving the attic I was hiding in for last. I sniffed the air. *FEAR*.\n\nMy shadow agreed.\n\nWe swapped our places, me taking his shadow and he taking my place in reality, and I could feel him - us - grinning. Exposing teeth. \n\nWe took the first agent silently, dragging him through a doorway and into the darkness. He was swallowed whole by our form, shoved into the space between our two realities. It's very cold there, so I hear. Cold and quiet.\n\nLike tonight.\n\nA flashlight beam crosses our hiding place, and we take that moment to strike in earnest. Claws extend from twisted fingertips, the strobe flashing of automatic weapons casting frantic light on the ribbons of blood that arc through the air so gracefully. My counterpart revels in it, the horror, the spectacle. The game.\n\nWe follow the heartbeats until no intruders remain. The team has been dispatched, but this place is no longer safe. They found us once here, they can find us again. My counterpart and I switch back, his snarls and laughter fade until he is nothing but my shadow again, silent. \n\nThere are other houses here, houses that are quiet enough. The night is young.\n\nI leap from a back window into the darkness, and do not look back.",
"You stare at it. And it. Well. Stares at you. \n\nIt’s a big, frizzy thing probably a foot taller than you, you can’t be sure—it’s crouched down with its long limbs curled inward and you’re not in the best state to be estimating these things, really. Its big red eyes blink and you see its teeth—*fangs*—for a sec when it breathes, and...\n\nOkay. Weird dream. Easy on the whiskey next time. \n\n“Uh-huh,” you say dumbly. In your dumb jammies and under your dumb duvet. “Let me, ah...”\n\nYou reach for your lamp and look at it, contemplating how *hard* you have to hit yourself in the face with it to wake up. The thing must realize what you’re going to do because it says, “you’re, uh, not dreaming.”\n\nOh. Helpful. \n\nYou try anyway. You’re pretty sure you go cross-eyed for a sec. Your face hurts like *dang* but you blink. Look. It’s still there. \n\nCalmly, you deposit the lamp shade back to your bedside and jackknife off of bed with a yelp—“*HEL—*”\n\nIt leaps at you and tackles you back to the bed. Its fur is all frizzy but weirdly, soft, and you can feel its claws on your cheek when it clamps your mouth shut. “Shh—*shh!* Listen, listen!” it whisper-shouts, sounding oddly... well, scared. You contemplate the lamp shade again. \n\nYou struggle until you don’t because—there. Something clatters downstairs. You freeze. The both of you. \n\nA beat, and then, “what was that?” muffled under the creature’s hand. \n\n“I don’t know,” it murmurs. Warily, it releases you. You stay as you are. “Can you... uh, go check?”\n\n“Excuse me?”\n\n“Here.” The creature hands you your lamp shade. It’s askew from the whole hitting yourself in the face with it earlier. “Someone might be in the house—”\n\n“It’s probably just Molly,” your cat, “she likes to play around downstairs when I’m asleep sometimes—”\n\nOnly Molly *mrows* on cue by your dresser and you blink at her stupidly while something else clatters downstairs. \n\n“Go check!”\n\n“What?” you squawk. You lower your voice and squint at the thing. “You’re the big, mean, scary... *thing,* you go!”\n\n“What if it’s a burglar?”\n\n“Eat him or something!”\n\nIt looks affronted as it backs away, fumbling its fingers. “I only eat Molly’s food, thanks.”\n\n“What do you m—wait. *You’ve* been eating Molly’s food?”\n\n“Well, I. Heh.”\n\n“I thought it was rats all this time—”\n\nSomething clatters again and then there’s a dull thud. Another. Quiet murmuring. There are. Oh. There are many of them. You cling to the lamp shade and the creature clings to you. \n\n“They’re headed upstairs—*oh no*—they’re headed upstairs, what do we do?”\n\n“Give me—quit squeezing my arm, ow!—gimme my phone, I’m gonna call 911!”\n\n”Where’s, uh.” There’s another thud and a murmur like *you dumbass* and it sounds like they’re coming up. You’re sweating. You think you’re gonna piss yourself. “Where’s your—”\n\n“Under the pillow *under the pillow!*”\n\nThe creature fumbles and *tears* one of your pillows in its haste. Your phone is all scratched up when it hands it to you and your fingers are shaking so badly you can’t do crap with it. You’re also pretty sure your crying. And the creature’s *whimpering* and oh my God—“shit shit shit shit.”\n\n“Hurry *hurry!*”\n\n“I’m *trying* I think I’m having a panic attack—”\n\n“Wait, what? But they’re right outside—”\n\n“I fucking *know* and you’re not helping—”\n\n“Give me it how do I do it?”\n\n“Just push the—”\n\n“*Do you hear that?*”\n\n“*Wait, there’s someone here? Jane, I thought you said they went out?*”\n\n“*I don’t know, man, I saw the car go out earlier...*”\n\n“Oh no oh no oh no,” the creature whines and you’re *bawling* and you think you’re gonna have a heart attack—\n\nYour bedroom door swings open. You see the outline of people at your doorway, peering in, and your hands whip. Your phone goes flying when the creature flinches and flails. Its flashlight turns on. In slow motion, like some sorry, dramatic sequence of your life flashing before your eyes and thinking of all you’ve yet to do—you’re really gonna die before you platinum Skyrim? Bummer—your phone slaps with a dull crack on the wall and falls. The light flashes at your face. You squint. You scream. \n\nYou *all* scream. \n\nThe creature growl-shouts-whimpers and the burglars at your door are shouting all sorts of epithets as they stare at the thing spotlighted next to you. It jumps to its feet and makes to dive under the bed, its shadow a hulking mass of raised hairs and claws and big red eyes glowing with the light—\n\nThere’s a racket of feet and objects falling to the floor. You think you hear someone fall down the stairs and one of the burglars yelling about *leaving Roy to die.* Someone falls again. There’s a mighty clatter and a crash from downstairs. A second, and then silence. \n\nYou wait. You can kind of feel your snot on your lip but you listen, frozen on your bed, clutching your lamp like a weapon of war. The monster is squatted on the floor, covering its head, and Molly in the corner *meows.* \n\nYou fucking *sob.*\n\n“Oh my God,” you gasp. “Oh my God, oh my God, I have to call the police—”\n\nYou *jump* off of your bed and make a run for your stairs. There’s a landline in your kitchen and you have to rush and lock your doors, check the damage, maybe scream out on the street just to get some of the tension out. Your coffee table’s broken, you inventory a bag by the stairs filled with china and electronics. There’s some blood by the front door and a shoe in the living room. Your mind picks these up in background snippets because right now, you’re trying to punch in 911 on your landline right. \n\nIt takes you three tries because you’re shaking too much and you’re still sniffling a little bit when a dispatcher picks up. “*911, what’s your emergency?*”\n\n“I had a break-in! I had a break-in, my—my address is—”\n\nA loud *crunch.* You turn around and watch as your furry, whimpering creature stuffs its face with Molly’s cat food. Noticing you, it stops and says, quietly, “sorry, stressful situations make me hungry.”",
"\"How many times do I have to tell you that there is nothing down there?\" I said, leading him back to the skirt of my bed by his purple fur covered arm.\n\n\"Joey, don't you tell me what I heard,\" he growled.\n\nAs he ripped his arm away, a claw caught hold of my old fraternity sweatshirt, slashing right through it. I could only hang my head in exasperation. \n\n\"It's been almost 3 fucking years Buttghoulface!\" I had snapped, in as hushed a tone as I could muster \"And every god damned night it's always something with you\" I slammed my fist into the bed.\n\nDisbared, divorced, drunk, drugged and depressed, I stumbled back to my parent's house to try and piece things together. Coming in, I knew I'd be tasked with taking care of my increasingly senile parents, but I wasn't prepared for the now doddering monster that had been living under my bed since my childhood\n\n\"If it's not I think I heard a human, it's that you got a dustball in your throat. Or you're oozing anal acid again. Or you need a cup of warm baby milk. Is it milk for babies or is it milk of a baby? I don't know!\" \n\n\"Milk made of babies. But Joey, no, I swear there was something this time,\" he groaned, \"I-it's gotta be something down there.\"\n\nButtghoulface's purple and gray fur was wild and matted, nothing like the flowing violet mane he had in Joey's youth. Once a towering presence, he lowered his still larger but hunched frame so that he could whisper, \"When you left before I heard a woman speaking and there was no one down there when I went to check.\"\n\n\"What was she saying?\"\n\n\"It kept repeating over and over 'I'm sorry, there are no cheap asian massage parlors in this 10 mile radius.\"\n\nI sat back down on my bed dejected, \"Yeah Buttghoulface that was Alexa\"\n\n\"Wait there IS someone down there!?\" A scatter toothed grin crept on to his face, \"45 years I've been waiting for some fresh meat.\"\n\n\"No, no. It's not a person, it's a computer. And you're decrepit and toothless, stop it\"\n\n\"Computer? That was a person, I've been scaring and terrorizing humans for 79 years, I know a sandman-damned human when I hear one Joey!\"\n\nI jumped from my bed and to the door. The crawlspace was big enough to hide from my parents, who I quickly found out respected privacy just as much as the last time I lived home 27 years prior. It was a good place to smoke a joint, rub one out or just contemplate how you went from one of the biggest law firms in Manhattan, to this.\n\n\"This is Alexa,\" I held the black puck shapped electronic up to his face.\n\nGrabbing it in his giant hand he inspected it. With a remaning incisor, he bit down, right through the black casing. Shards of plastic and metal shredded the air on impact.\n\n\"No, blood,\" he said as he handed it back to me.\n\n \"I know there's no bl...\" I tried as the will to argue left me just as Alexa's will to function had left it.\n\nI closed the door, and turned my back to it. My legs slowly gave way, as I melted into a pathetic heap in front of my hideaway.\n\n\"I was partner in one of the top white-shoe law firms in the world. I had women. I had money I had cocaine. I had-\"\n\n \"I had white shoe the other day, under the bed\"\n\nEdit: spelling."
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[WP] you are sleeping on the floor of your room . You open your eyes and find your mother pointing a gun at you .
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Mom, what-?\"\n\n\"You are going to get out of my house right this minute,\" she screams.\n\n\"But...but why?\"\n\n\"GET OUUUUUUUT!\" The shotgun bucks and a piece of the floor explodes by my feet.\n\n\"Okay,\" I say gently. \"Okay. If you want to kick out your only son, even though he's only thirty-five, I completely understand.\" \n\nHer chest rises and falls erratically, but the shotgun remains trained on me, still and steady. \n\nWhen she's in this mood, there's no reasoning her. Though she's never pulled a gun on me before (where did she even get the gun? She *hates* guns) the best thing to do in these cases is to just go outside and wait until she calms down. Which is what I do.\n\nA few hours later, as it's starting to get dark, I sit on the steps outside and put my hands on my heads. In case she looks outside, I want her to see me and have pity.\n\nFinally, the door opens. Thank goodness, no gun in her hands. \n\nAs I stand to go inside, she blocks the doorway and says, \"If you *ever* use the toilet again without flushing...\" \n\nShe doesnt have to finish her warning. All is understood. \n\nBut as I make my way wearily back to bed, the thought hits me. \n\n*Wait a second...*"
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[WP]You are special Agent Jones Band and finally infiltrated the bad guy's headquarter. As you step into the office you look at the back of a leather office chair. It slowly turns around. There's a white cat sitting on it. "I've been expecting you, Mister Band", it says
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"A talking cat?\n\n​\n\nImmediately I scan the room, searching for any kind of wiring, microphone, camera-\n\n\"You won't find anything here, Special Agent Jones Band,\" purrs the cat in a sly, velvety voice, lifting a delicate paw to lick. A million thoughts and questions race through my mind. Gruesome corpses, child pornography, intricate technology- I had seen them all. Or I thought I had. I have never hesitated, and carried out missions with cold-hearted determination. However, this situation was like none other I have ever encountered.\n\n\"Ho-how do you know my name?\" I blurted out, as if a cat that could talk was less surprising than a cat knowing my name. The white cat let out a hearty *mrrowww*.\n\n\"Mister Band, I hardly think that's the most interesting question you can think of. Or at least, I hope not, considering a man of your caliber.\"\n\nUnfortunately, the cat was right. Why was the bad guy a cat? How is the bad guy a cat? How can a cat be the bad guy? Months and months of data gathering, millions of taxpayers' money spent, a trail of corpses and crimes that led us to... a cat? And the most important question of all - *how can a cat talk?* The white cat stretched lazily, as a cat does, and stood on four legs.\n\n\"Now Mister Band, are you not going to ask more questions? This is the very first time I got to reveal my talking skills to someone face to face! Usually I have communicate to my henchman through phones, as they believe I'm a normal human. Imagine their surprise if they find out they've been taking orders from a cat all along!\"\n\nI just stood there in a daze. Man, the cat could *talk*. It leapt onto the ground, tail flicking back and forth, and all I could do is stare at it's little mouth yammering away.\n\n​\n\n\"Mister Band,\" says the cat, a tinge of annoyance entering its voice \"are you going to question me or not? I really wanted to talk to someone in real life before killing them, as I never have the chance t-\"\n\n​\n\n***BANG***\n\n​\n\nThe sound of gunfire fills the room. Blood seeped out of a perfectly round hole in the cat's body, in stark contrast to its snow white fur. It's blue eyes were wide, staring into nothing, its little pink mouth slightly open. I crept closer, then tucked the pistol I clenched in my hands away as quickly as I had drawn it.\n\n​\n\nIt was dead.\n\n​\n\nSeems like even evil cats couldn't resist the cliche of bad guys talking too much.\n\n​"
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[WP] Your tied against a basic wooden chair and see that your face to face with a serial killer, Luckily, the serial killer seems to be incredibly stupid.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Oh fuck. That was my first thought as the bag was removed from my head. Before me stood a man dressed in a black hoodie. Though it was dark, I could make out a giant smirk on his face. He took a few steps back.\n\n\"Welcome!\" he said. \"We are going to have a fun evening, you and I.\"\n\nI found myself in some sort of basement, it was dark and cold, and waterdrops could be seen sliding down the walls around us.\n\n\"What the fuck do you want? Money?\"\n\n\"Oh no, do not mistake me for someone like that. I do not want your money. I want your blood.\"\n\nPanic hit me as I started to realize that this was a non-negotiable, joy-seeking lunatic with only one intent: cutting me open.\n\n\"Now, let's begin by removing some of that fat from your chin, yeah? It would suit you well. Let me go fetch my little tool.\"\n\nHe turned around and started walking towards a table in the corner of a room.\n\nFuck me this is it.\n\nTo my surprise, he did not turn around. He just stood there muttering, until he finally shouted:\n\n\"Man where the fuck did I put it? Where is the knife?\"\n\nThis was no relief to me, as I was still tied to a chair in a madman's basement.\n\n\"Fuck me, must have dropped it at the bloody club.\"\n\nSome hope. The club is where he had drugged me earlier. If someone working there had seen him drop the knife, then walking out with an unconscious me over his shoulders, perhaps they would put two and two together and call for help.\n\n\"Shit, well, now everything is ruined. This is all your fault!\"\n\nHe started to walk towards me swiftly, but stopped in his tracks as a loud thunder roared outside. Storm and rain. Perfect weather for a kidnapping, I thought. But to my surprise, he did not seem to feel the same.\n\n\"Wha... what the fuck was that?\" He asked, in a voice that almost made him seem... fearful?\n\n\"I said, what was that? You called the cops?\"\n\n\"What was what?\" I tried. Perhaps I could get myself out of this somehow.\n\n\"What was that fucking loud noise outside? You heard it, don't play stupid with me! You called the cops, didn't you? You fucker!\"\n\nWas my panic playing tricks on me or was this guy really this stupid? I saw no other chance of escape, so I played along.\n\n\"Yes, yes I did. That's them outside. You are going to jail, asshole.\"\n\n\"No, no, nooo! Look, mate, I'm sorry about all this, ok? Listen, you have got to help me. Please!\"\n\n\"Well, you could start by untying me.\"\n\n\"Yes, yes of course.\" He went behind me, and loosened the knot around my wrists. I stood up, relieved.\n\n\"Alright, now what? What will you tell them?\"\n\n\"How about this...\" I pretended to think for a bit. \"I tie you to the chair, then I'll go up and tell them I found you down here tied to a chair. No way they will connect anything to you.\"\n\nHe immediately agreed. A minute later, he was in the same position I had just been.\n\n\"Where is your phone?\" I asked him.\n\n\"On the table.\"\n\nAs I went to grab it, he asked me:\n\n\"What for?\"\n\n\"I am calling the police.\"\n\n\"You son of a bitch! You said you would help me!\"\n\nTo my disappointment, the phone was password-locked.\n\n\"Aha, you'll never get into it. No way I'll tell you the code!\"\n\nDammit. If only I had something to threaten him with. Suddenly, as he was sitting in the chair laughing maniacally, something fell out of the pocket of his hoodie. I went and picked it up. A pocket knife. I flipped it open and pointed it towards him. He looked at it, and said:\n\n\"Oh shit, there it is!\""
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[WP] Your phone rings. You answer it and on the other end is you from a alternate reality wondering if he/she could crash with you for a night or two at your place.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Laying in my cozy bed, my phone begins to ring. The ring tone is familiar to me, its my brother's contact ringtone. I'll talk to him in the morning it's 3 in the morning, its probably nothing. Soon the phone stopped ringing after 5 minutes had past and I began to fall back to sleep. It rings again and I answered this time annoyed \"I swear to god, Paul, what the hell do yo-\" \"Jack I need a place to sleep for a couple days, ya know to lie low,\" the voice whispered \"Who is this, where is Paul?\" I screamed\n\nThere was a silence, it felt like hours...\n\n​\n\nI could hear the slam of a car door \"I'm right outside the door...Please...let me in.\"\n\nChills ran down my body, I was officially in fear of who had my brothers phone and where my brother was. I grabbed my aluminum baseball bat and was ready to pop this fuckers head. I marched to the door and in one fluid motion opened and primed my swing. Right before I was about to swing I paused...my hands grew numb and the bat crashed on the floor. I couldn't believe my eyes \"You look just like...me?\" \"Why are yo-\" before I could question why he was covered in blood from head to toe I felt a sudden ",
"\"Yello?\"\n\n\"Hi it's me\"\n\n\"And who are you\"\n\n\"I'm you but from like a different reality my dude\"\n\n\"Well fuck me we do sound annoying\"\n\n\"Yeah but it gets better, at least thats what the TL-191 version of us said. He's up to his neck in dicks\"\n\n\"Huh cool... wait dicks?\"\n\n\"Yeah we're gay there. I heard you're bi\"\n\n\"The hell did you hear that from?\"\n\n\"From one of us\"\n\n\"I think an interest in Tom Hiddleston among other adonises is perfectly healthy, even for heterosexuals\"\n\n\"I don't know who that is but keep telling yourself that. Anyways can I ask you a favor?\"\n\n\"Well... sure I guess\"\n\n\"Could I crash at your place?\"\n\n\"What? No!\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"If there's one constant in any universe it is that we are shit at maintaining our rooms. If you crash at my place it'll look like a toxic waste dump instead of the pig sty it looks right now\"\n\n\"That's where you're wrong kiddo\"\n\n\"Oh jeez\"\n\n\"Growing up under a communist dictatorship makes you be as tidy as possible unless you want the Ghostapo to come around knocking.... which is exactly what they're doing right now in fact so I really need a place to crash\"\n\n\"Why me?\"\n\n\"My research indicates you're the least selfish of our lot. Still selfish but like a little bit less. I figured it was worth a try\"\n\n\"Oh why... thank you\"\n\n\"Yeah yeah you're welcome (loud crash in the background) so uhh I REALLY NEED THAT PLACE TO CRASH RIGHT FUCKING NOW!\"\n\n\"Alright alright\"\n\n\"Спасибо\"\n\n\"Wu...\"",
"I freeze, wondering if it had finally worked, while simultaneously thinking about Occam’s Razor and how it could just be a prank call by someone. \n\nBut why even bother to imitate my voice? Only one way to make sure, I figured.\n\nI deepened my voice, tried to sound big and tough, and opened my mouth, about to begin my tirade about who this really was and thinking about various obscenities to hurl at the guy on the other end when I was coolly interrupted.\n\n‘It worked old friend. No need to think so hard dipshit. Just be happy that I considered to even pick you.’\n\nMy chest muscles tighten, and at that moment the caller sighs. ‘Relax now will you. No need to hyperventilate. Your project worked and your message was sent. Fortunately enough, here everything is slightly ahead than at your place.’ \n\nHe pauses,, allowing me to comprehend what I had achieved. Both me and, if what I was hearing truly was correct, what I in the alternate-future had accomplished. ‘As you know, we love the older ways. So that’s why I decided to come....here.’\n\nI stand, speechless unaware that I’m calling my own name a half-dozen times. Even that’s hard to believe- that I had already accepted that another version of me was calling me. Yet it made sense. Why the hell not?\nIf I could rearrange atoms to create something new, why couldn’t the universe? Or even its creator, if it existed. \n\n‘So can I come over?’\n\n‘Uh...uh I mean...’\n\n‘See you at 6.’\n\nI smile weakly and wait for myself. Wait for me.",
"“Yeah... no...” How could I trust him?\n\nHell, half the time I don’t trust myself, no way am I letting some alternate reality me in.\n\n“Dude, really? I’m you!” He sounds annoyed, I would be too, but I’m not letting him come over.\n\n“If you’re me, then you know why you can’t stay here.” That got him to think. I can hear cars going past him and look outside. No cars on my street. Good, he’s not actually here. “Look man, where are you?”\n\n“I’m not sure, I know I’m in Houston, but it’s different. Like, why is everything so busy?” He sounds confused now.\n\n“Because its a prospering city.” That’s not a good sign. “Do you see any restaurants?”\n\n“Yeah, there’s a Burgerking up the road.” Well, atleast they still have Burgerking. I think for a minute, then decide.\n\n“Give me an address, I’ll meet you.” I start getting dressed.\n\n“Uuh... 3730 Scott St.” He says after a minute or so. Good, he’s not too far.\n\n“Okay, I’ll be there in about 30 min. See if your currency works here.” I grab the keys to my truck.\n\n“Alright, am I safe here?” He sounds legitimately concerned and on guard.\n\nGreat. He probably came from a war zone or some shit. I grab my gun too.\n\n“Yeah, dude. Just don’t talk to the homeless people and don’t take anything anyone gives unless you get food from the Burger King.” I have to keep him calm. “You using a pay phone or someone’s cell?”\n\n“Nice lady’s cell.” Cool, cell phones exist there.\n\n“Alright, how’d you know my number?” Now I’m just curious.\n\n“It’s the same as mine. This is weird dude.” I can hear the mild panic in his voice.\n\n“I know dude. Hang tight, I’m on my way.” I hang up and head out.",
"James was alone in his apartment, getting ready for a night of study. His roommates had left to go to a party in the other block. They had extended the offer to James but he declined. He almost always declined and they almost always invited him to parties. He wanted to be alone, he liked being alone. He had made himself a pot of Earl Grey and had settled in for some quality study time. \n\nHis phone started ringing. This surprised James as his phone never rang. He saw a number he didn't recognize and hung up. The phone rang again and once again he hung up. Then a text notification popped up, it was the same number as before. James opened his phone and read the message. \n\n\"Answer your phone dick head!\" said the text.\n\nThen the phone rang again. This time he answered it. \n\n\"Hello\" said James with a nervous crack in his voice.\n\n\"Finally!\" said and oddly familiar voice \"Look, I'll explain everything in a minute. I need to crash at your place tonight. I am almost outside your apartment.\" \n\nThe phone hung up and there was a loud knock at the door. James could not bring himself to move, he was terrified. There was another knock, this time much louder and followed by the same voice he heard on the phone. \"Open the door!\" said the voice. James frantically looked for something he could defend himself with. The only thin he could find was a whisk. It would have to do. James moved slowly toward the door. He reached toward the handle and opened the door. As he did he jumped backward, whisk at the ready. He was immediately in shock at the person at the other side of the threshold. It was him, another James, same height, same build, same hair. Only this James somehow looked much cooler. \n\n\"Really? A whisk?\" said other James. \"You thought you could defend yourself with a whisk? Am I really that stupid sometimes?\"\n\n\"How is this possible?\" said James, barely out of his stunned silence. \n\n\"I know! weird right? Put down the whisk you look ridiculous. And get some of Davids whiskey, we'll need it\" \n\n\"How is this...\" said James.\n\n\"Ok, fine.\" said other James \"I'll start talking while you get the whiskey.\" . Other James took a seat on the couch. \"You know how we never go to parties?\" said other James \"well about two weeks I decided to go to one. This was when we got that C on the algorithms assignment. You probably decided to stay in and study real hard for the next one. I know that, because that is what I wanted to do. David convinced me to go to this party. At the exact same time that you decided to stay here and study I decide to fuck it and enjoy myself for once. It was at that point our reality split and we went along on our separate time lines.\" \n\n\"Wait\" said James. \"Are you saying you are me from a different reality? How is that...\" \n\n\"Possible!?\" interrupted Other James. \"While at the party I got really drunk, really fast. You know how much of a lightweight we are. I got talkin' to this girl from the physics department. We were getting on well, I'd say both of us were pretty hammered. Then she whispers in my ear 'You wanna come back to my lab to see an experiment'. I was like 'hell yeah!' I really thought I was gonna loose our virginity. But when we got to the lab it turned out she really was talking about an experiment. Some weird government thing. Anyway, I'm standing there and she walks over to this machine. We've never seen anything like it before. She turns it on a strange purple yellow glow starts emitting from this thing. She starts turning dials, then sparks start shooting out of this thing. The last thing I remember is her saying 'oh shit!' then a flash of light. Then I'm alone in the lab, the machine is off and the room is completely dark. Turns out I was somehow put into this reality.\"\n\nJames was still in a state of quiet confusion. \"We almost had sex?\" said James eventually . \n\n\"Seriously?\" said Other James \"That's the only thing you took from that whole story?\"",
"Jan 8th : Your phone rings. You answer it and on the other end is you from a alternate reality wondering if he/she could crash with you for a night or two at your place.\n\n​\n\nI walked across the construction site, my eyes scanning the floor space and sketching out regions that will be used for the new greenhouse. The builders had put in the roof last week. My hands rested on it thinking about the progress that lay in front of me. I still need to get those Plexiglas sheets and get the ---\n\n​\n\n**Tooo dudoolo tu doooo**\n\n**Tooo dudoolo tu doooo**\n\n​\n\nA faint ringing droned on in the background. I look around wondering where it is coming from. An empty void engulfed me. The heavy ringing fills my senses.\n\n​\n\n**Tooo dudoolo tu doooo**\n\n**Tooo dudoolo tu doooo**\n\n​\n\nI sit up on my bed, shaking away the last of my dreamy haziness. My phone still vibrating on my laptop. through my blurred vision I dragged my fingers across the screen. A weak \"hi\" tried to crawl out of my lips, but gave up just as it started.\n\n​\n\n**\"Hey Man! Hey, Hey!\"**\n\nA chirpy voice greeted me--\n\n**\"Wait does this work? Can you hear me?!!\"**\n\n\\-- and continued on impatiently.\n\n​\n\n\"Hey there, too early for me to function, but who is this?\", I said in what I hoped was my reasonable voice.\n\n\"Oh, must be early morning there huh! Dang! I understand man, I love my sleep. Would've called you later if i realised, but this is new to me too! I have a huge favour to ask. Can I just stay a few days at your place! Ill be no bother! and ill even bring some dough-nuts\"\n\n\"Kanyi, is that you? Are you drunk? Call again once you are at the door. I'll come get you. Remember the rules, I need to work--\"\n\n\"At 9, yes! completely, Ill even wake you up!\".\n\nDrunk people are so happy! That kid needs to be safe.\n\n​\n\n**KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK**\n\n​\n\nThat, was remarkably quick.\n\n\"I'm making you pay cash the next time you pull a stunt like this\"\n\n\"Look man, both of us know you aren't going to take the money. This place looks great! Love the colors! Oh, this aquarium is fantastic. Have you managed to breed any cories yet?\"\n\nHis chirpy voice was beginning to bother me. It reminded me of... well me. Me trying to distract myself from something really terrible. And definitely not of Kanyi.\n\n\"Who are you?\", i asked out loud while i was chastising myself for being so stupid! \"I dont suppose youll kill me right! I mean if you would kill me you would have done so already. So I should be good one that front. Listen man I'm just a student. I have some ramen though if you would like. Could you save one for---\"\n\n\"Heyyyyy friend... You got the wrong idea buddy. Im well\", he trailed off as he pulled off his hoodie. I saw me looking at me. Well, a less shaven me, but still very clearly me.\n\n\"I wonder if this is one of those lucid dreams?\"\n\n\"I am you!, but... not you!\"\n\n\"Are you schodingers me?\" I continued on, now determined to see where this leads. My first lucid dreaming. I wonder if i can fly!\n\n\"Listen you moron! Listen ME moron! We are the same. Just from dimension X12s -- pop pop-- 23. We think the same, we have the same personality, just things around us could be different. Who is the president here! Actually where are you even living? I just teleported in on the call --- Oh! Also the timings are different.\"\n\n\"How is this even possible! And why are you beatboxing? If you're me, then you're terrible at anything that supposed to have a rhythm\"\n\n\"Well, you can get better! What do you do though? Are you a Physicist! Oh, I always thought I would make a great one, oh an artist? please tell me you practiced more and got better! oh, oh! a DANCER?\"\n\n\"Biologist!\"\n\n\"BIOLOGY? ohhh! i would make a great one too!\"\n\n\"So, you are me? and I am you? Can we fuse or something? Do we need special earrings? I dont know how I feel about wearing earrings, dont think i can do it.\"\n\n\"No, we are the same person, just in different dimensions. We arent two halves of the same person, also not the same person from a different time. Just different dimension. Im you that got taken away as a baby and well, got experimented on. Whatever they did allowed me to reach out to different dimensions and then i figured i could also travel. So, now i am here away from them. Would you like some dough-nuts?”\n\nHe finished talking and began stuffing his face with what were supposed to be my dough-nuts.\n\n\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\\_\n\nNew to this. I would appreciate any and all comments that would help me become a better writer.",
"For strange events, this was at least a nine. The phonecall had been no less bizarre than this actual honest to god meeting, I was meeting Rebecca... who was it turned out. Me. The sheer strangeness of the call had prompted me to choose to meet up with her and the oddity did not end there. Arriving at my favourite takeaway despite her being a woman I recognised her immediately. \n\nIt did not truly allay my suspicions at first. \"Right hand on the table flat out.\" Was the first thing I said as I saw her, like me there was instant recognition and she planted her right hand, palm down on the table with fingers splayed. I put my own hand down a moment later. \n\nI didn't need any other confirmation, there it was the middle fingertip curled over into a virtual claw where I... we... had lost the tip at age three thanks to a vengeful windy door. It was an oddity to see somebody who was you but the opposite sex. Even her name served as confirmation as my parents had told me that if I'd been born a girl i'd have been named Rebecca. \n\n\"So you are... me. Yet female?\" \n\n\"Alternate dimensions mean divergences big and small. From what limited understanding I have, our worlds are virtually identical except for my gender and the basic science levels.\" She chewed on the chicken and gravy roll she'd ordered as I gnawed on mine. \n\nEven her movements were almost identical to mine, slightly more graceful but like looking into a mirror. \n\n\"And you need a place to crash?\" \n\n\"That I do, got a spot on the couch?\" \n\nI leaned back squinting, trying to decide. Truth was I trusted her, we didn't appear to have any major differences except plumbing. And hell, that wasn't much of an obstacle. \"Hell, you can share my bed if you like, its cold around this time of year and don't need you spreading a cold around the house just because you slept on the couch.\" \n\nShe chuckled. \"Yeah, dying on your couch would probably cause more problems than solve them. You sure you're ok with it?\" \n\n\"You're me. I'm you. I've got nobody else at home, might be fun to share a place with me for a while. But I need to ask, why do you need to crash at my place?\"\n\nTears well up in her eyes. \"Because I don't know how to get back, or if anybody is coming for me.\"",
"The sun's warm on my skin, and the crashing of waves on the shore soothing. I take a sip of the cocktail in my hand and admire the greenness of the ocean. There's a couple of girls playing volleyball nearby, but otherwise the beach is just about empty on this perfect day. \n\nI push down my sunglasses to get a better look at the girls. They're about my age, maybe a couple years older. I consider going over to have a chat, but I really don't want to get up. Still, there's something about one of them that catches my eye. \n\nShe's not normally my type, small and petite with her black hair in a pixie cut, but I can't help but stare at her. Her back's to me, so I can't see her face, but then she fumbles the ball and it lands behind her. She turns around to pick it up-\n\nBLOOP\n\nI jerk awake and stare up at my ceiling, the beach slipping away like sand through my fingers. Damn, it was just a dream. Should've known, the pina colada barely had any taste. The room's still dark though, my alarm shouldn't have gone off. I reach over to grab my phone from the nightstand but the only notification is an email from my professor about the paper I have yet to turn in.\n\nAh, it must've been my other one. No wonder the sound was so unusual. I get up and pick up the strange silver oval from where it's fallen on the floor, pressing it to my ear. \"Hello?\"\n\n\"Are you awake?\"\n\n\"I am now.\" I reply. \"Who's this?\"\n\n\"It's me, Five.\" That's not his actual name, it's Alex, same as mine. But for the sake of not confusing ourselves, we refer to each other by the numbers of our native realities. \"Listen, is it alright if I come over to your place?\"\n\n\"Yeah sure.\" I grunt. Being the Alex that inherited a mansion from his grandpa means my house is often visited by me, myself, and I. And I mean that in a literal sense. Five spends a lot of time at my place, but I don't begrudge him that. His home reality was destroyed a couple of years back, so he spends most of his time traveling alternate worlds. \n\nAs if on cue, the doorbell chimes, and I hurry to open the door. Standing outside is a mirror image of me, if I hadn't shaved in a couple of days and let my hair grow out a bit. That's not the surprising part.\n\nThe surprising part is the girl standing behind him. She's slightly shorter than me and Fives, with short black hair and familiar looking features. I feel like I should know her, but I just can't place a name to her face.\n\n\"I see you've brought a friend.\" I say evenly. This isn't so unusual. Thirty-Eight brings over a girl every other week or so, the man-whore. The others aren't as bad, but given that we're all horny guys in our early twenties, my house is like the frathouse of the multiverse.\n\n\"In a manner of speaking.\" Five replies, leading the girl inside. \"Zero, this is Alex. Alex, meet Zero.\"\n\nSuddenly it clicks. No wonder she looks familiar. \"But she's-\"\n\n\"A girl.\" Five nods. \"It makes sense though, there had to be at least one of us out there that was.\"\n\n\"Hell, I'm surprised it took as long as it did to find one.\" I scratch my head. \"What number is she?\"\n\n\"Ninety-Seven.\" The girl version of us speaks for the first time. It's actually weird hearing a voice in my house that doesn't sound like my own. \"Um, do you have any food? I haven't eaten anything all day.\"\n\n\"Kitchen's at the end of that hallway, there's shepherd's pie in the fridge.\" I point her in the right direction.\"\n\n\"Oh, I love shepherd's pie!\" She exclaims. \n\n\"Yes, we all do.\" I grin. \"Sort of a universal constant.\"\n\nFive and I watch the first female Alex make her way towards the kitchen. Even the way she walks is like ours. \n\nFive breaks the silence first. \"So do we call her Ninety-Seven, or Alexa?\"",
"They say if you believe you're insane, you aren't. And if you think your sane, you probably aren't, since well-adjusted people are usually a *little* quirky. So when someone claiming to be me from another universe called asking for a place to stay, I figured *they* were the insane one.\n\n​\n\nThen I met them.\n\n​\n\nIt took a lot of convincing arguments on their part before I would agree to meeting them. They mentioned a few things only I would know, such as the intense anxiety I have when I drive a car. The name of my first lover, where and when it happened, how it happened, and some dirty details I would feel embarrassed about telling another soul. How I was the one that accidentally killed the family fish in a stupid phase of child curiosity; he was old, family thought it was just his time. They never knew I accidentally suffocated him by holding him in a net out of water a little too long.\n\n​\n\nBut he did.\n\n​\n\nHe also knew I would be paranoid about this whole idea, prefaced the call saying it is very hard to believe, but knew I would want to give him the benefit of the doubt just in case it was true. Because it was something I... *We* would think of once in a blue moon. He also knew I'd have a lot of questions, to the point where my crappy phone would lose battery, and insisted on meeting first. \n\n\nHe even knew the best way to arrange the meet-up; going to a public place where if the other doesn't show, I could still have fun. On the phone, he asked me if the arcade was still there in my universe. Apparently in his, it closed down due sudden death of the owner. An upsetting thought to cross my mind. Known the owner for more than 15 years. \n\n\nAnd the man claiming to be me knew that as well. \n\n​\n\nWhen I arrived at the arcade, I figured I could just play some games for a fun distraction. Get the irrational thoughts out of my head. But as I approached a machine, I saw who was playing. \n\n\nIt was me. \n\n\nWell, not exactly me. I have long hair, he had short hair. I shaved recently, and he had what I call my 'lazy' beard. I was wearing my old, falling apart wired glasses while he was wearing plastic frames. And of course, we were wearing different clothes, though I had his exact shirt and pants combination in my dresser at home. He also seemed to be in more shape than I was. Guess he actually committed to a work out plan while I kept half-assing it. \n\n​\n\nSeeing this... version of me, it was the point where I started questioning my sanity. I mean sure, I actually had a friend that SORT OF looked like me; both with the long hair, thick eyebrows, similar facial structure. But he had brown eyes to my blue, his hair was a lighter brown, and I was an inch taller than him. And his name was Jacob while my name was Alan. \n\n\nThis man, Alan, I guess, looked identical to me with the most minor differences. He finished playing a song and spotted me. His eyebrows went up, surprised at some of our differences I assume. He left the game and spoke.\n\n​\n\n\"Keeping the longer hair, huh? I found that so annoying after awhile.\"\n\n\"...so this is real?\" I was still trying to wrap my head around it.\n\n \n\"Either that, or I'm some guy that got plastic surgery to look JUST like you. But we both know we're not *that* interesting or good looking to put in such an effort,\" Other-Alan replied. He even got my self-deprecating nature down pat.\n\n\"I have... *so* many questions for you!\" \n\n\"I bet I can guess a few of them, but... can we go to the snack bar? I haven't had Breakers' cheese steak in years!\" \n\nThe arcade's totally-unhealthy-but-amazing-tasting specialty. I did have some concerns about two of me approaching the counter and confusing the worker however.\n\n\"Can we do that later? Maybe after we're done talking?\" I asked... the other me. \"I really don't want people to notice that... we're both the same person.\"\n\n \n\"Oh, so you believe me?\"\n\nI frowned a bit. \"I have a shred of skepticism still, but I believe enough to know it would be a headache to explain.\"\n\n\"Yeaaah... That's true. So, maybe we can head to your place?\"\n\n\"That sounds even worse, trying to explain it this to mom and dad.\"\n\n\"You still live with them?\" Alan-like's eyes were wide. \"That may hamper my plans...\"\n\n​\n\nI could feel myself tensing. \"What plans? You still haven't told me why you are contacting me, or even how you got here!\" \n\n\"Uh, you're shouting. Might be bringing us some unwanted attention, ya know? How about we head away from people.\" He ushered me to a corner where the broken games resided in the arcade. \n\n\nAs annoyed as I was, I didn't want to deal with an audience. Once we found a spot away from other arcade goers, I spoke up. \n\n​\n\n\"So. What is this all about?\"\n\n\"I, uh... Kind of need a place to stay.\" The 'Other Alan' looked down sheepishly. \n\n\\---------------\n\n**Wrote too much, rest in reply.**",
"Bob shuffled his feet through the snow on his way home for the weekend. It was already dark which didn’t really help. His apartment felt like the cold wind outside. He imagined coming home to a house with warmth and light and laughter, someone waiting for him with a cup of hot chocolate, someone who would beam up as he opened the door. He would have a little gift, tucked under his jacket, which he would reveal after a kiss. But the only greeting he got was the smell of a bag of trash he had forgotten to take out.\n\nThe phone rang. Unknown number. Marketing, he thought to himself but he answered anyway. \n\n“Bob?”\n\n“Yes?” he said holding his breath.\n\n“Dave here from Golden Insurance --”\n\nBob hung up, exhaling his hopes.\n\nThe phone rang again. Unknown number. He answered it. “Look, I’m not--”\n\n“-- Bob?” The voice was different. Familiar but different. “Bobster?”\n\nHe had always wanted to be called Bobster.\n\n“You there Bobman?”\n\n“Uh yeah?”\n\n“Great! Damn, I’ve been trying for ages and my battery is almost running out. Look, do you still have that closet from gran? That ugly oaken thing? Please say that you do.”\n\nBob’s brain tried to connect the wires and Bob watched it fail miserably. “I, uh, yes? Who?”\n\n“Ok, doesn’t matter if you understand it yet. You will, if you’re like me you will, which of course you are. I hope! Never done this before but you gotta be, right? Anyway, the important thing is this. If you have that closet from gran, can you please come and open it? It’s getting quite uncomfortable in here.”\n\n“You’re in the closet?” Bob’s brain understood being in a closet.\n\n“Bob, Bobster, Bob the job, please please just come and get me out and I’ll explain everything, yeah? Battery is running out. Oh, and one thing. Can I crash on your couch for a day or two?”\n\n***\n\nBob had the closet in his basement, hidden behind a stack of books and a fondue set he had never used. He was gullible, that was certain. Then again, he didn’t have anything better to do. Cursing under his breath he shifted away all that covered the oaken doors, pushed down the handles, and promptly got hit in the face by the wood rushing outwards. He fell back as something tumbled out of the closet. As he tumbled out of the closet. If a moment could get stuck in time, this moment did. There were no words, no thoughts, nothing that mapped onto whatever was in front of Bob, except “Bob”.\n\n“Damn,” Bob said getting up from the floor. “This is weird.”\n\nHe had short circuited every conceptual structure. He almost drooled on his new shirt.\n\n“Oh, right. You’re me, but I assume you never got that whole shit figured out.” Bob made a circular motion with his finger center on him. “Let’s get some whiskey. We hate it, but it makes us feel good. I know the way. I live here too you know. Kinda.” Bob took his arm and dragged him out of storage, up the stairs, into his apartment, and plopped him down into a chair. Then he left to the kitchen, rummaging through cupboards, and returned with two cups and a bottle of Hennessy.\n\nHe drained the whiskey as if controlled by a drinking algorithm. He wasn’t sure he had even initiated the action.\n\n“Ah, yeah I understand that you’re shocked. I would be too if I were you, which I am, but you know…” Bob scratched his temple and poured another cup. “So I’m you from an alternate reality, and I need a place to crash because my place kinda got fucked up. In short, my universe it doesn’t exist anymore. Or it does, but I can’t get back to it, and even if I did I’d die in a way I really don’t feel like. So I’m a refugee of sorts. There’s no universe missing a Bobster as far as I know, and now I’m here. I’ll set up shop somewhere far from you. I guess it could be awkward if you suddenly got a twin right? Anyway, from the look on your face you haven’t really discovered this whole parallelism yet, which is good. Then you won’t perhaps fuck things up like we did.” Bob studied his face. “You with me so far?”\n\nHe didn’t shake his head.\n\n“They told me it could be difficult, but I thought you’d be more like me. More chilled you know? Didn’t you hook up with Cynthia? Man, she really opened some blockers.”\n\nCynthia. That was a concept he understood. He emptied the cup in his mouth. Cynthia. Her smile echoed in the back of his mind, the only clear thing swimming around in there.\n\nBob shook his head and poured another finger. “This is gonna be a long night.”\n\n***\n",
"The beat-up red Bronco rumbled down the interstate carrying John, like so many others, home after a long day at work. Inside the car, NPR played over the sound of the tires on the concrete and John cracked his window while he smoked a cigarette. Over the din, the classic Nokia ringtone suddenly blared from John’s shirt pocket. John threw out his cigarette and drove with one knee on the steering wheel as he simultaneously rolled up the window and turned down the radio. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and saw it was from a blocked number. John shrugged and pressed the accept button.\n\n“Hello.”\n \n“H-hi, I know this is going to sound weird, but I’m you. I just from another version of your reality.”\n \nJohn sighed and replied, “Not that hard to believe.?”\n \n“Wait. Why is it not so hard to believe? Somebody tells you they are from a different dimension, and you’re just like ho-hum.”\n \n“Well. Apparently my reality is the Waikiki of alternate dimensions. You’re not the first version of us to call me up out of the blue. Let me guess, you had a big speech all planned out to convince me that you’re really me, and you have already let yourself in to my house.”\n \n“Uh, yeah.”\n \n“Okay. So why don’t you do both of us a favor. Do you have cash?”\n \n“Yeah.”\n \n“Why don’t you walk down to the convenience store and buy a case of beer, and a couple packs of cigarettes?”\n\n“Okay. What kind do you want?”\n\nJohn let out another sigh. “Same as you, dipshit.”\n \n“Oh, right.”\n \n. \n \nJohn pulled up in front of his trailer and got out of the car. He plodded up the steps to his front door and let himself in. There, standing in the kitchen was his twin. He didn’t look identical. The ‘other John’ had longer hair and didn’t have a scar on his cheek like John. Also, his clothes, although somewhat rumpled and disheveled, were considerably nicer than John’s Faded Glory blue jeans and flannel shirt. John gave the man a nod and opened the fridge. Inside there was two twelve packs of Steel Reserve beer. John grabbed two beers and looked at ‘other John’ and said, “Goddamn we’re cheap bastards.”\n \nAt this, both men smiled and ‘other John’ accepted the beer he was offered. \n \n“So, how long are you here for? The last ‘John’ stayed the night, but was gone when I woke up.”\n \n“Well, I was hoping to stay a couple days. Or at least until the heats wears off.”\n \n“What do you mean by until the heat wears off?”\n \n“It’s a bit of a long story.”\n \nJohn looked at ‘other John’ for a few seconds. Then he polished off his beer, grabbed another from the fridge and waited.\n \n“Okay. So, I’ve been robbing banks, or the same bank over and over again.”\n \n“So you’re telling me that you’ve discovered the secret to inter-dimensional travel and you’re using it to rob banks.”\n \n“Well. Yeah. I came across this little mom and pop bank that has pretty lax security. I only get about twenty thousand per bank, but I’ve hit that same bank like eighteen, maybe nineteen times. I switch dimensions, rob a bank, rinse and repeat.”\n\n“Now, you want to hang out here while you wait on the trail to go cold for law enforcement in your dimension. Am I right?”\n \n\n “You’re kind of right. I didn’t rob the bank in my dimension, though. Don’t shit where you eat and all that.”\n \n“If you didn’t break the law in your dimension, why do you need to lay low?”\n \n“That’s the thing. Since I wasn’t in my dimension, I didn’t see any reason to wear a mask or wear gloves or anything. I won’t be around to get arrested. What I didn’t realize was that I’m not the only John to figure out interdimensional travel. So, this morning I decided to go home, but when I walked in the front door there was like seven other Johns standing there. It was a damned John convention. Before I could figure out what was going on three of them grabbed me. Then one of them, he was like the ringleader or something, starts telling me how pissed off he is that I ruined his dimension. He goes on that he had to flee some kind of manhunt with his picture all over the television and facebook and everything.”\n \n“I can see how a person could get teed off about that.”\n \n“Yeah. It was kind of shitty in retrospect, but I honestly hadn’t thought about it. So these three guys are holding me, and this other John grabs my duffel bag and opens it. It's full of hundred dollar bills. It kind of grabbed everyone’s attention, and I tried to make a break for it. I punched one of them in the face and kicked another in the shin. At this point it all broke down into a full out brawl. The only way I can figure what happened is some of them must have lost track of which John I was and tried to grab one another. It was like being in a funhouse mirror room to be honest. Anyways, I made it out the door and flopped to this dimension.”\n \n“Alright. So you’re telling me that you are on the run from yourselves nineteen dimensions.”\n\n“Well, there was only seven of them there.”\n\n“Okay, so you’re on the run from seven of them, and you thought you could crash here? Are they able to track you? Why would you be safe here?”\n \n“I don’t think they can track me. At least, I don’t know how to track someone across dimensions. There are only so many dimensions where stuff is basically the same. Well, theoretically there’s an infinite number, but practically I would say there is only forty or fifty dimensions you can travel to where stuff isn’t completely different. I think they just used good old fashioned police work. They probably just traveled from one dimension to another before they found one where the bank hadn’t been robbed, and I wasn’t home.”\n\n“Then why did you come here? Isn’t this the first place they’ll look?”\n \n“I don’t know. I wanted to see a friendly face I guess.”\n",
"My phone rang. The voice on the other end was hesitant and awkward. But familiar. \n\n“Hey. Uh. You aren’t going to believe this, but I swear it’s true. It’s me, I’m you. Don’t worry, I’m not dead, it’s actually pretty complex to explain over the phone - but I’m you, trust me. I know what you did in 1987 in the darkroom in middle school, and it wasn’t me watching - I’m actually you. Weird huh? I’m from a universe that for all practical purposes is the same as yours, but it just isn’t.”\n\nMy world should have turned upside down, but it didn’t. Strange things happen in this world.\n\n“Yes, that’s weird. Do you look like me?”\n\n“Yes, we are both extremely handsome - I’d like to meet.”\n\nI thought for a moment. What if this alternate me was as big an asshole as I was? What if he was in some sort of trouble in his universe? What is this alternate me comes by and my fiancée likes him more than me? \n\nNo. He would not be coming over. It was just as likely that very bad things could come from this instead good, and he likely would leave poop on the sides of the bowl and not clean it. \n\n“Sorry man, I’m out of town. We can catch up another time.”\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"A phone call from my number?\n\nThese spam calls just get worse and worse.\n\nOh well, I'll play along. Maybe screw with their heads a bit. Let's see how long they can pretend to be part of Windows Tech Support.\nI wonder how far I can take it? Let's see what to do exactly?\n\nI always have fun with these? Pretend to have a foreign accent? Speak a bunch of Spanish and throw them off if they're from one of these smaller towns out here? Fast food delivery? Just get on the line, keep it a hundred, and say the blackest shit possible?\n\nWhile I really love that last one every once in a while... Fast food is usually the ticket.\n\n\"Slappy's Pizza and Crippling Depression. Can I take your order?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'll have a bit of Crippling Depression, pan crust, and can I get a extra helping of Self Loathing on the side? I'd really love that right about now.\"\n\nThat voice is familiar. Too familiar for some reason.\n\n\"Lemme' guess. You're calling about my computer.\"\n\n\"Nah.\"\n\n\"My credit card info?\"\n\n\"Nah.\"\n\n\"My grandmother.\"\n\n\"Of course not.\"\n\n\"You trying to run for president? Give Kanye and Alex Jones a run for their money?\"\n\n\"*I wouldn't do that for love nor money.*\"\n\nI had to shrug at that, I couldn't blame him.\n\n\"I feel you on that one.\"\n\n\"On God though.\"\n\nI hate this person for calling me in the middle of the night. It's bad enough I'm not a morning person. But the combination of creeping paranoia and actual hindsight makes you sleep light after a while. It eats at you. Right now, it was at full effect.\n\nSo at least, for a moment, I'm entertained.\n\n\"Look, I think you got the wrong number man. Sorry, I can't help you.\"\n\n\"Uh, about that.\" They answered, \"I kinda' need a place to stay for a couple days.\"\n\n\"Okay. There's a few motels around here. Pay cash; they'll hook you up.\"\n\n\"It's one in the morning. Ain't nobody open. That's why I'm coming to you.\"\n\n\"*The fuck you mean* 'I'm coming to you'??\"\n\n\"Look, Jay, don't take this the wrong way...\"\n\nThis person knows my *name.* I'm not one to scare easily. But something was seriously wrong here. Whatever I had on, I turned it off. Then I went to the windows. They didn't say anything after saying my name.\n\nBut I could hear him. Breathing quietly. Listening to something else. It sounded like he was driving or something.\n\n\"How do you know my name?\"\n\nSilence for a moment longer.\n\n\"Because I'm you. Who else would it be?\"\n\n\"...Jesus Christ.\"\n\n\"Leave Jesus out of this one. He's been through enough already.\"\n\n\"....\"\n\n\"You've been waiting to use that for a while haven't you?\"\n\n\"About as long as you have. We're the same you and I.\"\n\nI'm checking both sides of the house now. Both streets are still the same. Dark, dim, and as mundane as it can be around here.\n\n\"How are we the same exactly? Huh??\"\n\nThere was a rather frustrated sound that came from the other end of the call. And behind him I could hear the wind blowing by. And that slight echo of tires on concrete.\n\n\"Because you're standing in your kitchen right now. You were in bed earlier. And I know you've probably checked outside. Trying to master putting on jeans in the dark, because the cat is rubbing your free leg and you can't find the counter to lean on. *And you're probably a little scared right now.* That's understandable.... And I'm going to be by our place in maybe two minutes.\"\n\n*How does he know what I'm doing!?*\n\n\"Oh, and don't worry about the door. I have my keys.\"\n\n\"Why are you coming here?!\"\n\n\"Because our universes collided, there's been a bit of a paradox- The point is: I need a place to stay for maybe two days. Until this blows over. Why is this so hard for you to understand?\"\n\n\"Gee I don't know! Guess!!\"\n\n\"Whatever. Don't call the cops though.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"It's a easy trip to the psych ward. Some dude named Jay calls 12 at half past a monkey's asscrack; claiming, *get this*, that somebody with *his name* and *appearance* that says they live at *his address* is coming to find him. *Sounds stupid right??*\"\n\nOkay, while I'm still not buying it; that does sound exactly like how I'd have said it.\n\n\"Go on; run that by them. I'll wait. They'll have you in a padded room by the time the sun's up.\"\n\n\"Stay away from me.\"\n\n\"Too late. I'm outside.\"\n\nA car had pulled up. One in the morning on a Monday night? Here? Way too late to be the pizza guy. Way too early to be a Jehovah's Witness. The car was the same color as mine. A different model. But it had my plates.\n\nThe same ones currently bolted to mine.\n\nSomebody got out and began fishing around in the back seat. I let the blind flap shut and tried to shake myself sane. It's finally happened. I've lost my shit. I've gone on a trip and never left the farm. And this whole thing has to be some kind of hallucination.\n\nThe lock turned. Then the deadbolt.\n\nThis was it. I figured if I'm going to die, I may as well go down swinging.\n\nWell; until I came face to face with my doppelganger that is. He was almost identical, albeit slightly different. He seemed a bit leaner, and it became apparent a little more worse for wear. If I guessed it, he'd got in a fight and lost.\n\n\"The good news:\" He began, \"You're not crazy.\"\n\n\"....*And the bad news?*\"\n\n\"I'm gonna' need your help.\"\n\n---\n\nInterested? r/Jamaican_Dynamite",
"\"Woah,\" she said. Her green eyes widened, and she took a sip of tea as she read over the paper. \"This is. Uhm. I mean, don't get me wrong. It's good...really good. But it's...darker...than I thought...\"\n\n\"Darker?\"\n\n\"Uh, sad, maybe? I dunno. I mean, I'm a romance writer, so I guess I'm just used to a happy ending. Especially since, you know, you're me. And I'm you. And...uh. Sorry. It's just, I thought we'd be more similar.\"\n\n\"I used to write romance. Like you,\" I said. \n\nI leaned forward in my seat, reaching to take some tea of my own. I assessed her as she scanned the papers. We had the same skin tone, and her freckles were the same. She wore the same kind of jeans, and her hair was the same shade of dark copper. But the lines around the eyes were missing, and she didn't have the scars. She didn't have the tension in her shoulders, and she wasn't jumpy when noises were made outside.\n\nThe tea kettle whistled in the kitchen, and she hopped up from the couch.\n\n\"I'm so glad you're a tea collector, too! I thought maybe that would be something that was different. But you've got an amazing set up! ...oh, look! What cute mugs...!\"\n\nYou know how they say most people can't stand the sound of their own voice? I didn't feel that way. Not one bit. I loved the cadence of her conversation, the innocence behind her tone. When she spoke I felt a stabbing pain of nostalgia and yearning, and it made me want to both cry and cling to her. I stayed quiet instead.\n\n\"You've got a stand mixer, too! Gosh, I've always wanted one of those,\" she continued. \"Should have gotten it myself, but I think Dad hinted he might be getting it for me for Christmas...\"\n\nSomething shifted when she said that. Like the world had been flipped upside down on its axis. She looked startled when she turned around and saw the look on my face. I said,\n\n\"...Dad?\"\n\n\"Uhm. Yeah. Our Dad.\"\n\n\"He's...alive...in your universe? What about the heart attack? In Lake Tahoe?\"\n\nHer face looked crestfallen, her jaw hanging open as pieces of the puzzle started to fit into place. \"We've never been to Lake Tahoe. We almost did, years and years ago. But he had a doctor's appointment before he went up, and they found some blockages and scheduled surgery. We never took that trip...\"\n\nThe world was spinning. Gravity wasn't working as it should. Slowly I lowered myself into my chair, and I watched as she came up. She put a mug in between my palms, and her hands encircled mine. She was warm. God, I missed the feeling of warmth.\n\n\"And...and Mom?\" I managed, my voice shaking. She hesitated, but finally said,\n\n\"Yeah. Yeah, Mom's good. Really good. She and Dad celebrated their 30th anniversary last month, and they decided to go on a second honeymoon. Tahiti. They took these ridiculous pictures.\" Then, softly, \"do you want to see?\"\n\nI nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak.\n\nShe pulled her phone out of her back pocket, and in a moment there were images I'd never imagined, in my wildest dreams, I'd ever be able to look at. \n\nIt was Mom that I saw first. I couldn't help myself; she looked happy. Genuinely happy. I hadn't seen her smile like that in so long. It lit up her face, her smile filling her cheeks and overflowing to her eyes. She was wrapped up in big, strong arms, looking at the man hugging her.\n\nMy Dad.\n\nI almost didn't recognise him. He was so much older. But slowly it came back to me. The laugh lines near his mustache. The freckles that dusted the top of his forehead. The widow's peak that had always made him look so distinguished. In the picture he was staring at Mom, and there was nothing but love in his eyes.\n\nI cried then. I couldn't help it. My fingers tightened on the mug, twisting against the ceramic. I just leaned forward and started bawling into her shoulder, and I felt her arms wrap around me.\n\n\"I'm so sorry,\" she whispered. \"I'm so, so sorry.\"\n\n\"You have to thank him,\" I said. \"You have to tell him...that he's a good Dad. That he protected you. That your life wouldn't have been the same without him. Okay? Will you tell him that?\" \n\n\"Okay,\" she said. \n\n\"Promise?\" \n\n\"Yes, yes, of course. I promise.\"\n\nIt's weird giving yourself a hug. But she was comforting and warm, and I found myself wrapping an arm around her. She smelled like my shampoo, and she felt soft in a way I hadn't been since that night in Lake Tahoe.\n\nIt was a half hour later when she'd warmed our teas in the microwave, and we were both sitting on the couch watching the Pacific Northwest rain fall outside the window. She said,\n\n\"You know, I think the Parallel Program is talking about opening up the bridge to go two ways. It's not cheap but...I could try to put you on the list. Maybe you could come for Christmas?\"\n\nI looked over at her, at that smile and her innocence and her kindness. And I replied,\n\n\"Yeah. I'd love to.\"",
"I closed the oven and promised myself to get the food out later. This was a particularly distracting dilemma and I didn't want to burn myself.\n\n\"Are you still there?\" they asked. Typical of them to be insecure when I'm quiet for like 5 seconds.\n\n\"Yep, yep, I'm just processing this whole... why can't you crash with anyone else?\" I started pacing, walking to each room of the house.\n\n\"Oh, come on, we know I wouldn't be able to stand being with mom for more than a day, and I don't know how long I'll be here.\"\n\n\"Because you did something really bad in the other dimension?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yeah, but not on purpose! Come on, you know me better than anyone, would we do something malicious!?\"\n\nI thought about that for a second. I noticed they didn't say anything more. Did they hang up because I didn't respond fast enough?\n\n\"Are you still there?\" I asked.\n\n\"Yep, so can I stay over?\" they pleaded.\n\n\"I dunno. I don't want you leaving your clothes everywhere. And not doing the dishes. And never cleaning the bathroom. You'd leave this place a mess,\" I shrugged.\n\n\"You already do that!!\" they yelled.\n\n\"Yeah, but you'd do it like, doubly so. So, you know...\" I shrugged again.\n\n\"Come on! What will it take? I can bring you some peanut butter candy! A whole bag full! All king size!\"\n\nTempting. I had to weigh my options. I looked at the pile of shirts in the corner of my room.\n\n\"Are you still there?\" they asked.\n\n\"Yep, I just need to think some more..\" I hesitated.\n\n\"I really don't have time to let you think more! I need to get inside somewhere immediately!\" they yelled. For a moment, I thought I could smell them fuming. Scary how connected we were.\n\n\"Ok, ok, but I get to take morning showers,\" I offered.\n\n\"What!? But then I'll be all gross and oily in the morning,\" they yelled. I almost swore I could feel the heat from them, too.\n\n\"And... And you have to tell me what you did that was so serious that you had to come here,\" I said with confidence. \n\nNothing from the other end. I probably went too far. I shouldn't have pushed myself so hard, now they would hate me and I'd always regret this night. I bet they already hung up.\n\n\"Are you still there?\" I asked, feeling even warmer in embarrassment. \n\n\"Yep.... I'll tell you, but promise not to laugh,\" they replied quietly.\n\n\"Ok, I'll try not to,\" I said, not wanting to make a promise I can't keep.\n\n\"So... In my dimension, I lived in an apartment where I was working on the technology to jump between dimensions. I was so invested in it, tuning out pretty much everything else in the world while I was working on it.\" I nodded, knowing the feeling. \"So, the night I finished it, I accidentally started a fire. The fire spread insanely fast throughout the apartment, and spread to the upper floors. On one of the floors was a young girl, like three years old, and she died of smoke inhalation. So, her dad is super rich and hates me and wants to kill me now. I ran through the machine, but he came right after me.\"\n\nI was sweating now, I couldn't tell why, though. Maybe it was vicarious anxiety. \n\n\"How come you could use the machine if it was on fire?\" I asked.\n\n\"No, the machine didn't go on fire. I left some food in the oven and it went up in flames. I never got around to replacing the smoke detector batteries so I didn't even realize until--\"\n\nI had dropped my phone from my hand as I finally absorbed the scene around me. Flames licked the entire outskirts of my kitchen and were crawling up the walls to upper floors and slowly approaching me. I started coughing from the smoke and screamed in fear. I picked up my phone and ran outside.\n\n\"ARE YOU STILL THERE!?\" they were yelling.\n\n\"Yep! Yep! I just started a fire in the apartment, though!\" \n\nThere was silence. The kind that envelops you because you're too stunned to come up with words to contribute. The kind where your silence speaks so many times louder than your words because you typically can't deal with silence, but it was being freely offered by you. To yourself.\n\n\"Are you still there?\" I asked weakly, taking more steps back onto the street to watch as the flames continued jumping up the stories. \n\n\"Is it at the fourth floor yet?\" they asked seriously. \n\n\"I think it passed the sixth,\" I said.\n\n\"Great. Now we're gonna need another machine,\" they groaned.\n\n____________________________________\n\nFor more other-dimensional stories, come on down to /r/Nazer_The_Lazer!"
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I just thought about this now and thought it was kinda dumb, but I want to see if anyone can make something interesting from it! =D
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[WP] As you are walking away from your friend, you turn around and do finger-guns. . . Except this time, the gun goes off.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Due to my mine training and vow of silence, I had been assigned as a moral officer aboard a Nanotransen Space Station. It orbited a hostile planet covered in lava dubbed Lavaland by the residents of the station.\n\n\nThe arrival computer announced over the comms that I had arrived to little fanfare. The clown, a fellow named Critical Fail, bellowed over the station radio, \"A mime? Bah is my clowning not enough?\" To which many cries of get spaced clown were shouted.\n\n\nUnbeknownst to the crew, I was actually a syndicate agent highly trained in CQC and advanced mimery. My mission was to murder the Captain. A human named Lexia Black. By accounts an incredibly robust target that had survived many previous attempts on her life. I had a few plans but first I made my way to the bar to scout out the local talent.\n\n\nThe bar was a real dive, manned by a lizard that stunk of cheap gin. The were a couple of people sitting at the bar, one wearing the clothes of a researcher, another was wearing an engineering uniform and the last one was a security officer enjoying their off time.\n\n\nI sauntered up the bar and did some basic tricks. Pretended there was a wall, pulled an invisible rope, pickpocketedpocket for a flash. All basic stuff. The drinkers partook of their alcohol and ignored my shenanigans. I sat there a while listening in on all the radio chatter going around.\n\n\nApparently the AI had gone rogue due to someone tampering with it's laws. A good distraction to move along my plans. Speaking of distraction, a Borg setup in an engineering configuration rushed in and applied a couple thousand Volts to the security officer and started to drag him off. Thinking quickly, I pulled out my stolen flash and overloaded the bot's sensors. As everyone decided to beat the disabled Droid into spare parts, I grabbed the knocked out officer and dragged him into the maintenance corridors in the back of the bar.\n\n\nAfter breaking his neck, I looted his corpse for his ID and gear. The hybrid taser would come in handy. I tossed the body out of an airlock. And returned to the bar in time to see the bot self destruct creating a small hole in the station. Air began to rush out and the emergency klaxons began to blare. Jumping out of the bar, the emergency shuttles slammed shut behind me.\n\n\nThe captain announced over the intercom that the AI menace had been quelled and that she would enjoy this victory by hosting as impromptu parade in the main hall. Ah! An opportunity to cause some havoc. I'd just need to break into Toxins and steal one of their experimental bombs.\n\n\nThe researcher from the bar was shitting next to me still recovering from escaping the now sealed bar. Quickly I stood up and pointed my finger at the downed researcher. I held up my other hand and opened my hand in a mock explosion. The researcher sighed and nodded. \"Access to Toxins research? Sure mime what ever you want.\" He rolled his eyes at my finger gun pointed at his cranium.\n\n\nThe station was in utter chaos, botany had created wheat that exploded into an smoke that caused mutations if you breathed it in. Cries to call the evac shuttle were all around but the Captain declared that first there had to be the parade then an evacuation. At least their priorities were in place...\n\n\nThe researcher led me into the research wing unphased by the finger gun to his back. \"Here you are mime, toxins research. Oh look someone has already made a Trituim bomb. Now if you'll excuse me I have important research to conduct.\" With that the researcher marched off deeper into the wing. I shrugged, checked the bomb to make sure it would actually explode and stored it in my backpack.\n\n\nUtilizing a smuggler'a satchel, I hid the bomb under the floor tile in the middle of the hall that would soon host the parade. Just in time as well as the Captain and the Head of Security had just turned the corner. Their slow marching was followed by a small cadre of security goons and a janitor. I waited till the procession was close to the bomb site and issued the signaler code that started the chain reaction. I ran quickly to the dormitories. The explosion ripped a massive hole in the station and turned the parade into a bit if pink mist.running still, an escape pod was located in the back. I jumped inside as the automatic evacuation procedures commenced. The escape shuttle was now on it's way to the station. I had to do was wait for it to arrive and leave. My pod would then end up being rescued by a Nanotransen shuttle.\n\n\nUnfortunately, the researcher ratted me out over the comms as the culprit. As a mime, I couldn't shout over the comms about how much of a liar he was being. I readied my taser and my finger guns waiting for the worst. Fortunately, most of the security forces had been killed in the explosion as well and no one searched for me.\n\n\nThe rest of the mission was a breeze as the automatic evacuation procedures went off without a hitch and I was saved from my pod."
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Inspired by [this awesome thread](https://www.reddit.com/r/Showerthoughts/comments/ae8odh/comment/ednsuoy?st=JQPY9FWD&sh=277fbe73)
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[WP] The locals sing of an ancient demon that steals away the souls of men. Her name: Jolene
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"She wasn't a demon in the fantastical sense you think. But thinking about it now she dressed like one in her all-black rugged band t-shirts and black eyeliner. I first saw her at a Metallica laser show during the welcome week in college. I'm not usually one to approach girls with confidence but when our eyes met I felt my destiny shift onto a path involving her. So I went over to talk. \"Call me Jo,\" she said and we agreed to leave the long line and head for the wooded hills above our campus. We ran there, her long legs making long shadows on the wet grass. I felt like we were fleeing something. \n\nUp there we climbed a tree high enough to see the black lake shine like steel from the full moon. She told me about herself, the small town she came from and all the bad she caused. We talked until we came to a standstill just kicking our feet in the air. Then she handed me a cigarette from her pocket. It was the first one I had ever smoked. The last thing I consciously remember was staring at the outer ring of her left eye and thinking how it was the darkest, most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.\n\nThroughout the year I would see her walking in the halls with music blasting from her headphones, hair all messy, not giving a f\\*uck. We would make eye contact longer than usual and she would gift me a slight smirk. I never talked to her again though. Every Friday she was always busy with something. I went up to the wooded area above our campus and looked for her there. There was no sight of her. I asked some people around a campfire if they'd seen her. They told me they had. She brought them there and they sat on a tree, \"Somewhere over there by the lake,\" they said and all pointed to a dark wooded area.\n\nThe school year passed without sight of her. Except for my thoughts, she wasn't around. On the last day of the year, I was on a run in the woods. On my cooldown, an urge from my feet took control and told me to sit on the shore of the lake. And so I started to run again and found the shore I was destined to sit by. I sat and stared waiting for something to happen. \"Just wait,\" a voice kept saying in my head, \"just wait.\" I did until it got dark. \n\nWhen the sun fell I began to feel woozy. The trees around me started to blur and a massive headache came upon me. My feet again were put in charge and a total blackness took over my sight until I was completely blind and could see nothing. I could only depend on a sense of hearing to guide me. I heard my feet crunching on leaves and could tell from the incline I was going uphill. Soon I began to hear more feet crunching. I felt around me with desperate inquisitive arms. I reached and touched hard warm flesh. \"Help, please help me,\" I said. But got no response. I felt by other stiff bodies and pleaded for help but they all remained quiet and continued to march. My feet told me to do the same. \"Follow them,\" the voice said, \"follow them.\"\n\n When the incline stopped and we were at the top of the hill my vision reappeared. There were forty of us, men and women, circled around a campfire. They all had blank stone faces and looked into the flames, asking it for something. They passed around a stick and everyone etched a dark ring in the ground before them. Then they all started to sing softly: *Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, I'm begging of you please don't take me. Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene* \n*Please don't take me just because you can.*\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​",
"\"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a nothing. It is also a truth universally acknowledged, in today's patriarchal society, that a woman merely existing must be in want of dick pics. So, ladies, how do we go from there to get them to give us what we really, really want?\"\n\nWith a sigh she closed the book, being careful to put it cover down on the bar table. She had read, if not this one, then dozens of other in its genre, all setting out that they and only they had the solution to a problem as old as mankind.\n\nA few seconds later her glass had been emptied, and in a voice made hoarse from the spirits she had just downed, she called for one more of the same. As her glass was filled up an unknown voice on her left suddenly sounded.\"I would offer to buy you a drink, but seeing as you're all set up maybe I should ask if it's a good read?\" a male of unspecified age asked, smiling at her. She did have difficulties ascertaining ages. This one was old enough to grow a beard, but young enough not to have it speckled with gray and so she estimated him to be somewhere between five and twenty and sixty or so. Not that it mattered, age was of no consequence. Now, she would get to practice her latest readings.\n\nBatting her eyelashes gently she attempted a shy, toothy smile, something her last read promised would do the trick quite nicely.\"Oh, I haven't read that far yet, but it does seem promising. If it is not too forward- \" She pretended to hesitate slightly before continuing, \"-my name is Jolene - may I ask yours?\" She glanced down at the book and then up at him with sparkling, emerald green eyes, only to find that he was now speedily backing off, color drawn from his face.\"What now?\" she demanded, loosing her cool. \"What did I do wrong this time? Tell me!\"\n\n​\n\nThere was no answer, as the man of an indeterminable age had rushed out of the door as fast as his legs would carry him. With another sigh, deeper this time, she picked up her book again. The title, which was what had made her buy it in the first place, read in bold letters: *How To Make Them Stop Sending Dick Picks and Give You Their Souls*. She sipped her drink while quickly turning the pages. Maybe this time she'd have had hit gold.",
"We all knew the stories. Nan would sing us the nursery rhymes meant to keep disobedient children in line. She'd always wait for the especially cold and rainy nights to sing us the legend of the she-demon men feared most. My brother was especially haunted by the chilling gory details of the songs where boys and men were nothing but evil doers whose ultimate fate was painful torture and a gruesome death. Jolene was, above all other demons, the most feared; people still asked for holy protection from her in their nightly prayers. If a man was particularly down trodden or to whom misfortune had befallen, it was generally whispered in hushed voices that Jolene had come in the night to take away his soul. A man without a soul, after all, could not see the light. Or so it was said. In my mind, these were stories for children. For the weak willed and for the ignorant. \n\nIt is said that in times past, there were once great cities filled with thousands of people. Maybe more. The large ancient structures that dot the landscape near my home are said to be but a fragment of the once great sprawling metropolises of an age when man could wield the power of the skies. Could cross great seas many times over in single lifetimes. A time when the idea of 'survival' was trivial. These are things told to us by the traveling shamans; men who carry literature and who can decipher the words inscribed within. To me, these ideas of a great past that our ancestors once had is a far more tangible truth than that of children's horror stories. \n\nOne shaman came to visit not so long ago however, who instilled within me an idea which I could not since shake. Jolene, the she-demon, is more real than I could have possibly imagined. The shaman admitted that the vast majority of our brothers, sisters, mothers, and fathers still ignorantly believe these tales as doctrine, but that Jolene was in fact a character from long ago. A creation yielded from fear, sorrow, envy, despair. The embodiment of human failures and our weakness as a species. We needed a creature to represent all that is wrong with humanity and so Jolene was fabricated from the air and now haunts our dreams from our days as babes. Jolene, it became apparent, is real. She is what we fear most; ourselves. \n\nMy perception of the people around me changed after that encounter with the shaman. Where I once saw the ignorant, i now saw the pitiable masses simply trying to survive in this harsh land. Where I once scoffed when the nan's of the world would tell their little ones the story of Jolene, I now felt a sense of belonging to that ancient right. For even now, with my own little ones, I will tuck them in at night and softly whisper the words my mother, and her mother, and her mother whispered to so many of my ancestors before me;*\"Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene\nI'm begging of you please don't take my man..\"*",
"*Ohhhhhh*\n\n*A young farmer named Billy Joe*\n\n*Once met a young pale doe*\n\n*Blonde and tall and very mean,*\n\n*folks called that bitch Jolene*\n\n-----\n\n*She wandered through the town to find,*\n\n*a man who'd treat her kind*\n\n*Who'd buy her things and let her be*\n\n*the hoe men like to see*\n\n-----\n\n*Billy Joe was a man with a lot of land,*\n\n*and she had a devious plan*\n\n*With her devilish charm and swinging hips,*\n\n*she knew she'd get those kicks*\n\n-----\n\n*She waited till he came to town,*\n\n*drinking with the boys*\n\n*Waited till they were drunk as clowns*\n\n*and began her malicious ploy*\n\n-----\n\n*She walked right up to Billy Joe,*\n\n *seductive as could be*\n\n*She stroked his beard*\n\n*She kissed his cheek*\n\n*She asked what he'd like to see*\n\n-----\n\n*And Billy Joe, that bright young man,*\n\n*fell for her devious plan*\n\n*And now I stand in front of you,*\n\n*a man with half his land*"
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[WP] You're a shapeshifter, only, you have no control over what you change into or when. Just when you're getting the knack of being a deer or a skink or a barracuda—you morph. You search for the secret of how to control your changing till, one day, you meet another like you...
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Aah! Please don't eat me!\" Tolu yelled.\nThe bear paused, staring at the salmon in its hand.\n\nTolu continued to scream for almost a minute before he realized that the bear we staring at him.\n\n\"Please don't... umm... You've stopped?\"\n\n\"Well I've never seen a talking salmon before,\" the bear said in a surprisingly human sounding female voice.\n\n\"Aah! A talking bear\" Tolu began screaming again.\n\nThe bear rolled its eyes. \"You're one to talk.\" It said. \"I mean, you're not, because you're a salmon. Salmon aren't supposed to talk either.\"\n\nTolu said \"I'm not a salmon. Not a real one. My name's Tolu. I'm a shape shifter. If you eat me, I'll change into a whale in your stomach and make you explode.\"\n\nThe bear's eyes went wide. \"I'm a shape shifter too... but... maybe you can help me. I... can't change voluntarily. Can you teach me?\"\n\nTolu frowned, or at least he would have if he weren't a fish. He looked embarrassed. \"Well, the truth is, I can't either. The whale thing was just a threat, to stop you eating me. Though it might have been true, you never know. I change at random times into random animals, with no control.\"\n\nThe bear sat down, placing Tolu gently on the ground.\n\"Me too,\" the bear said. \" My name is Heana, by the way. I've been living this way for years, never knowing when my whole life would be thrown out of balance again, never knowing what dangers that I hadn't considered might suddenly become very real, never knowing---\"\n\n\"Um, sorry to interrupt, Heana\" Tolu said. \"But, uh, I'm suffocating a little here. Would you mind putting me back in the river?\"\n\n\"Oh, sorry,\" Heana said, reaching out with a clawed hand.\n\nBefore she could get there, an eagle swooped down and grabbed Tolu, taking him into the air.\n\n\"Tolu!\" Heana shouted as she took off after the eagle.\n\nAs the eagle soared above the trees, Tolu saw Heana getting smaller and smaller, eventually losing her entirely.\n\nThe eagle landed in a nest in a tall tree, dropping Tolu on the edge. The eagle was about to chow down, when it let out a cry and looked down.\n\nIt shrieked again, and took off just as a bear paw appeared over the edge of the best.\n\n\"Heana! Thank goodness. You've saved me.\" Tolu said.\n\n\"Um...\" came Heana's voice from above. Tolu looked up and saw a small hummingbird hovering above him. \"I sort of changed. That's not me.\"\n\nThe bear roared as it felt around the nest with its paw. It finally grasped Tolu.\n\n\"Well,\" Heana said. \"It was nice to meet you.\"\n\nTolu sighed, his vision fading from the lack of oxygen as he got pulled out of the nest and into the waiting jaws of the bear.\n\nPuff! Tolu felt the telltale sign of a shape change happening. He felt his skin stretch, taking resistance at first. After a very wet crunchy sound the resistance went away and his skin stretched faster.\n\nThe shape change complete, he looked around. He could breath again, though very slowly. He also still felt very dry.\n\nHe heard a laugh from above.\n\n\"You weren't lying after all,\" Heana's voice said. \"You turned into a whale. Do you know what this means? There's probably a way to control our shape changes after all. If we help each other, we might be able to become human again.\"\n\nTolu smiled as much as he could manage as a whale.\n\n\"You're right,\" he said. \"Let's stick together and work this out.\"\n\nTolu relaxed. Truly happy for the first time he could remember.\n\n"
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[WP] You’re the guy who eats food to determine whether they’re safe or not. You’ve been lucky so far until the king asks you to try out this new plant...
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Ahh.. the life. No one wanted the benign ole bugger dead anyway, he was loved by all, so being poisoned was nowhere on the horizon, or on anybody’s agenda. If anyone wanted him dead all they had to do was wait a day or two and he was sure to oblige them he was so old and as he had said many times, he was waiting to go and happy to go. Life as the royal food taster was pretty damn good and was more of a traditional post than having any real reason for being.\n\n\nFat and happy and close to it all but uninvolved, free wine and food, lodging, sex with the head cook (another reason to trust the food…..hopefully….) ahh the life.\n\n\nThe only blip on the horizon is the ole beggar’s new hobby. Botany. So far so good though, a few inedible and truly awful plants, a few ok and a few rather nice that the cook has integrated into the menu. The good thing is he always watched wild animals feed first, fed it to domestic animals next and then, if no deaths or really bad reactions, only then did the royal food taster get asked, ever so nicely (orders wrapped in silk) to wrap his lips around the morsel. \n\n\nThankfully he had recently turned his attention to foreign foods and thus already foods that maybe of questionable taste value and mouth feel but still had been tried and tested by other humans. Black eggs, orghh.., red bits that he still had no idea from what animal and what part of that animal they were. Raw air-dried fish, mmyaa, strong but bearable, green tongue that he was sure was a joke by some travellers and was the memorably lowest episode of his life. \n\n\nOh the misery, the taste that lingered and lingered and lingered and would not wash out with even the strongest of beverages. The laughter that filled the dinning hall as his faced involuntarily reacted to the green tongue in his mouth, which did not stay in his mouth for very long. As a royal food taster, he was proud of his stoic demeanour, his aloof mannerism that never gave anything away until he was ready to announce his judgement. Not this time though, out it came and back on the plate from whence it had come. This was, undoubtedly, the funniest thing all the people in the hall had ever seen in their lives for the uproarious laughter and belly clutching and tears that followed clearly showed they had never seen anything funnier. \n\n\nAnd all at his expense. But he had never been one to hold himself as all that important or above a good joke so this situation didn’t really faze him all that much. But the taste, ahhh god… indescribable except with adjectives and many many expletives. \n\n\nHe had heard from the cook, as he lay in his arms last night, that some new travellers had arrived from far far away, a land so distant it was but a faded memory even to the travellers. A land so distant the sun got tired traversing it, a land so beautiful you would cry the first your eyes would gaze upon it, a land so… etc etc… and….they had bought with them many plants and dried bits of dead animal for the king to try. \n\n\nThe tucker box would be opened today, if they could get that pesky bloody dog off it that is and the new ingredients divulged.\n\n\nToday was today, just another day in the life of everybody, king to traveller, just another day, but someone would dye today and that is going to ruin their day.\n\n\nCooked traditionally by the traveller with the attentive eyes of the head cook watching every addition and pot stir, the first new ingredient was ready for tasting. \n\n\nFood taster to the stars didn’t really think much about this one, bit of a let down really. King tried and denied. Next. Smell, consistency, taste, really never had the taster tried something so unique and different and King man thought so too. The daily run of taste and pass on, judgement made and opinions pronounced and clapped by lackies went on as per usual, as had been done many times before. But today was today and someone will dye. \n\n\nThe pot of dire dread the story foretold comes forth. Steam wisps rise ominously, eyes turn to watch it’s procession across the hall’s long and timber floor, footfalls sounding out a harmony only a sorcerer could truly hear and understand their message of doom. \n\n\nInky depths told of no colour to the eyes of the taster, was it black? Clear? Deep purple? It smelt of summer and smoke and sea. The traveller said to the attentive audience the main ingredient was a mussel. ?. No idea what that was, was the halls consensus, but anyway move on with the story. Picked from an island in the bay of his home town, the shell cooked down was used as food and as a …..\n\n\n“Arrgghhhh….” The stoic taster yelled as the hot steaming bowl of mussel mash flew from the hands of the server, first the mash hit him full in the face, followed closely by the bowl, the spoon, not wanting to be left out, but not having the energy of the bowl tapped him on the knee. \n\n\n“…a dye” fell quietly from the lips of the traveller. \n"
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[WP] Gods can only view the mortal world through their followers’ eyes. As one of the few humans to survive the apocalypse, you have dozens of bored gods in your head competing for your worship.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Rain battered the deck and waves crashed against the hull as Arthur hurriedly prepared his tribute. Nestled in a small cabinet in the cabin of his fishing boat where his son Michael sought refuge, Arthur pulled together the meager pile of fish and incense and trembling, fell to his knees as he began to softly pray \"Holy Lords of Heaven and Hell, I ask you in my time of need as a mere mortal, please in your infinite wisdom, pull me from this wretched storm and into safe shores. Where on these shores I can supply you with the great and bountiful tributes befitting of demiurges of such grace and power.\"\n\n​\n\nWhat followed was an impossibly loud and embarrassing silence. Those who had allied themselves and made contracts with the Gods were the subject of great misfortune. And he had seen the Gods cast aside those who had hastily sought their council. After the brief pause, a rare and unsettlling detour from their usual cacophonous, a condescending and powerful voice cut through the silence, \"I heard none of this same devotion when the ground was closer to your feet Arthur. You expect to tide the Gods over with this poultry offering?\" The Pantheon began to laugh in chorus, in childlike giddiness and eldritch cruelty, as Thomas shrank in humiliation.\n\n​\n\nBattling the storm and returning to the wheel, Thomas began wrenching it in all directions, desperately trying to steady his endangered vessel. Instinctively, Thomas reached for the now dangling radio handpiece, holding it to his mouth, before mournfully placing it back. He'd do anything to hear her voice now. At that moment, Thomas thought the Gods were mocking him with fake pleas for assistance, when he realised the source of the voice was starboard and rushed out to inspect it.\n\n​\n\nStranded not 30ft away was a small life raft carrying a single black haired passenger, desperately wailing at Tom's fishing boat, trying to wave his arms before suddenly and unsteadily gripping the handles of his raft. He looked about 14, 15 and was slim and pale figure amidst the bright orange of his vessel. His face not yet scarred by age, couldn't have been any older than Adam. And there he sat, completely alone in a sea of tumultous black goo clawing at his from all sides.\n\n​\n\n\"Please, please, you have to help!\" The once faint and pleading voice was now growing louder and louder and Tom began to suspect it was the God's foul work. When the lightning crackled, Tom swore he could see the whites of his eyes and tears streaming down his panic stricken face. Thomas, now weary of the hazards of unknown travellers, reluctantly returned to the wheel\n\n​\n\n\"Rather cold for mortal, wouldn't you agree Thomas?\" A mocking voice whispered in his mind's ear, accompanied by demented laughter and endorsements and enraged dismissals of Thomas' manhood and humanity alike. The entire Pantheon that watched Thomas was now enthralled, one way or another, with his current dilemma.\n\n​\n\n\"I-I can't, I've gotta go back and I might just kill myself trying to save him. Besides, I used the last of my fish trying to stop this storm\"\n\n​\n\nThe young man self grief had disappeared and was now replaced by a palpable self righteous anger and his cries now began declarations of war, \"Holy Lords of Heaven and Hell, beseech thee!\" The rabble in your mind is enthusiastically hushed as the young man screams into the howling wind, \"Whoever grants me possession of this man's ship and a safe voyage, I swear to you a human sacrifice!\"\n\n​\n\nUnlike the silence before, Tom feels the absence of the Gods as he shudders and the heavy eyes of the immortals wander. Meanwhile, the once sickly teenager stands tall despite the rapidly swatting life raft and soon leaps across the drink and landing on the boat with a heavy thud and sending Thomas tumbling to the floor. The stranger pulled Thomas to his feet and delivered a sickening, rib shattering blow that had him spewing blood. Crumbling to the floor, Thomas began to feel a slight tingling in his fingers, then his hands, his arms, his chest, no his heart, as the injuries began to reknit and a strength he'd never felt before animated his entire body\n\n​\n\n\"Miniscule as it may be, consider this a reward for your tribute. If you send this boy to me in your place you can expect an even greater taste\"\n\n​\n\nThe stranger gripped Tom by the collar, who solemnly rose to his feet before delivering a haymaker to the grinning young man. Momentarily stunned, Tom took charge and rained a hail of blows against the stranger's forearms, who was now desperately defending himself. Landing a vicious uppercut through his opponent's defence, Tom now reluctantly straddled the young man, unable to throw another blow. A wave thundered against the vessel and Tom was thrown against the floor, allowing the stranger to quickly land a sweeping kick underneath Tom's jaw. Yanking a nearby metal pole from the floor, the stranger hesitantly raised it, eyeing Tom's dazed figure with contempt and pity.\n\n​\n\n\"I grow bored of this\" Growled a familiar voice, which judging by their respective reactions, both combatants now heard ringing in their ears.\n\n​\n\nIn the midst of the armistice, the boat was struck by an almighty wave that sent both men to the deck. The great volume of water that occupied the deck began flowing almost with purpose bypassing Tom and encapsulating the stranger and pulverising him against walls of the cabin and the formerly secured crates, which were sent down intot the depths. Catching himself on the railing of the boat, the boy reached out for Tom's hand as his body hung off the side, a torrent of water rising from the depths like outstretched hands to the boy's rapidly weakening form. Tom launched to his feet, sliding across and using his now waning strength to grip the boys forearm. The pressure however was too great and the two would surely go off together.\n\n​\n\n\" Whosoever brings me and this boy safely to shore, will be built a church in their honour!\"\n\n​\n\nA murmuring broke out amongst the voices, before one coarse and filled with malice filled Tom's mind, \"And how magnificient will this church be?\"\n\n​\n\n\"Oh, as magnificient and grand as you fucking want it!\"\n\n​\n\n\"You have a way with words Thomas. Consider the promise sealed\"\n\n​\n\nThe water that once constricted the boy went 'limp' and plummeted back into the ocean, as Tom hauled the pale blue figure onto the hull of his boat. Tom and the stranger sat panting and coughing on the cold metal floor of the ship hull, the rain slowing to barely pattering and the waves subsiding to moderate rocking.\n\n​\n\n\"What's your name son?\"\n\n​\n\nWiping his mouth and regarding Tom with weary and suspicious eyes, the stranger muttered \"Gill, nice to meet you. Thanks for not killing me\"\n\n​\n\n\"Likewise. But I wouldn't be worried about me. That guy you just promised a human sacrifice? He's gonna want that back. And godsdammit we've got a church to build when I get home\"\n\n​\n\nTom and Gill share a nervous laugh, before setting about to repair the ship and return to modicum of home they have left\n\n\\----\n\n​\n\nI hate writing prompts sometimes, this took me 2 hours to write after countless revisions and it's awful",
" Virtual and augmented realities are a vital part of modern civilization in Western Junos whose inhabitants are all immortal beings. These beings have the ability to manifest anything their minds can imagine instantaneously. Most citizens of Western Junos grow bored with their omnipotent powers, fantasizing what life would be like as a mortal with definite challenges in life.\n\n A once-thriving and prestigious software company namely Potial, watched themselves go bankrupt as their hit product from decades back was seemingly going obsolete. Most civilians in Western Junos spent their waking hours as an avatar in a simulated world called Mars, which was another software simulation put out by one of Potial's competitors. Potial was becoming the Blockbuster Video to this new company producing the cutting edge simulation software called Mars.\n\n\\-----\n\n There are now thirty-two survivors in our group, including myself. We all banded together in what's left of San Diego, and it appears our mutual trust is growing upon one another.\n\n I honestly believe I am losing touch with reality- maybe because I am just still grieving the lost of my family and attempting still to process the events of that day.\n\n Today we are piling up all of our combined firepower and going hunting for whatever we can find. The last few days our unit has grown five more people and we haven't come across anyone or anything that responded with hostility.\n\n Until around 4pm, when we spotted the most peculiar man walking a bulldog ahead of our trail. Apparently there were animal survivors. When the man spotted us, he immediately smiled and waved, then charged a full-sprint at us with his dog running along side him. We all pulled our rifles on him, to which he stopped in his tracks, the dog following suit. We could see now that he was bearded and had on a thin backpack.\n\n \"Hold on! Don't shoot! I come in peace!\" the man begged.\n\n \"Why did you run at us?\" I shouted.\n\n \"I've been searching for humans for weeks!\" the man said, \"I need somewhere to hide out. I have something valuable that a lot of people are looking for.\"\n\n \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n \"Will you please put down your rifles? I don't have any weapons.\"\n\n We trustingly obliged to which the man began slowly removing his backpack. He knew we were all ready to blow his brains out, so I didn't think he was going to try anything crazy.\n\n He pulled out bricks of thin, golden paper, as if someone used gold to print money onto. \"This is Mars currency. I became the richest man there, and a lot of beings were after me. Do we have a place I can hide?\"\n\n\\-----\n\n In the course of the next decade in West Junos, Potial once again became the top dog of the augmented reality industry after their hit product, Earth was invaded by the populace of Mars. By the year Earth-3000, due to the massive breeding with the Mars beings, nature's Homo Sapiens become fully instinct, having evolved fully into cybernetic organisms.",
"More consistent than any physical law and more powerful than any gods, supply and demand is the only truth that has outlasted the apocalypse. In a world where the sun no longer runs on a fixed schedule and the ground before you can collapse just as easily as it can suddenly rise, I am one of the lasts humans. \n\nThe gods, on the other hand, have lost most of their followers in a single night. Their only connection to this forsaken earth, wiped clean; almost. Popular gods from the Greek pantheons and Chinese legions are no different than no-name deities of forgotten tongues now. They have all shifted to the high supply end of the scale and we humans are in demand.\n\nSome of the survivors, tempted by power and promises, have taken to mass worshipping. A fractured devotion to a mix-and-match pantheon of their own choosing. Some have taken on more than a dozen gods while others kept it at two. None of them remained sane. I made it clear than my faith will only be devoted to one god and opened my mind for auditions under the skeletal remains of a skyscraper.\n\nWar gods offered might. The Monkey King would loan me his golden cudgel, the same one he used in his attempt to destroy the heavens. promised me his trident capable of destroying three worlds in a single strike. Ares, blinded by rage, only hurled insults at me. \n\nFertility goddesses tempted me with a lineage of demi-gods. I would be the father of the next generation, a world populated by man-gods. Freyja of the Nordic Ancients would bear me children tough enough to survive any terrain. Girls would be Valkyrie-like and boys would possess immeasurable strength. Venus did not speak much of offsprings but simply disrobed.\n\nWisdom deities offered me knowledge. Thoth would gift me both the knowledge of magic and science, just as he gifted the ancient pharaohs, to create the world anew. Benzaiten promised to give me the power to bring beauty back to this wasteland.\n\nI sat in the same spot as three pieces of the fractured sun came and went. At the end of the audition, there was one clear winner. He came not in golden armor or handwoven silk, but in a ragged patchwork of torn hemp. His disheveled hair swayed as he limped towards me. He spoke in incoherent echoes and made no promises of power or longevity. But in that broken state, I felt in him pure instinct. A forgotten god reduced to the will to survive. \n\nI stood up as a fragment of the sun began to rise and limped away into the horizon.\n",
"It was....lonely. \n\nMost had died out a year ago. A strange plague wiped them out. Most animals survived, so f you could hunt you could live. But most humans were gone. I knew a few survived. I’d seen their footprints, to recent in the dust. Graffiti marking dates that are to recent to be a remnant of civilization, or cynical and dark jokes that are to accurate to be pre plague, or just notes. Marking of when someone was there. I’d tried to follow. I’d see how far the footprints would take me, wait by the messages for as long as foodlasted or as long as seasons permitted. I left some of my own. Notes, where I’ve been, where I was going. No one had found me yet.\n\nIt was lonely.\n\nWell....except for them.\n\n It was maybe a month, month and a half, after the plague had run its course when they first contacted me. And they others, I’ve seen markings and makeshift shrines. They tried to be subtle at first. It’s kind of funny to look back on. Cryptic dreams, whispers in your mind, signs that mean nothing. The Gods really were clinging on to old traditions.\n\nThe first “god”contacted me after a particularly rough fishing trip. One small trout for dinner. I had a dream that night that I was standing on a river and a beautiful woman in blues and whites appeared to me, and gave me the biggest fish I’d ever seen in my life. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but Zhen, god of the rivers, has been a constant presence since then. She was kind. I left her a shrine once.\n\nOthers soon started to appear. Gods of the forge, of poison, of water fire earth and air,of nature, of small and large things. I learned a lot. They stoped being cryptic eventually. Just talked. I liked the company. At least from the ones that didn’t make demands.\n\nIt was easy to learn about them when they were so direct. They gained a lot from worshippers. They gain power, they gain knowledge, but most importantly to them now, they gained eyes. Anyone that worships them allows them to use their eyes as their own. And since all the humans died out, they missed out world.\n\nSome demanded worship. Some offered me “gifts” and “favors” others simply talked, feeling as lonely as I was.\n\nSometimes I would cave. But it was annoying. Constant voices in your head, begging, demanding, requesting that you worship them. I had to practice to zone them out. But that was my life now. Just me and the voices. \n\n“I can help you find another”\nIt was mid fishing trip. Some beach on the east coast. I barely kept track of directionnoutside of cities now.\n\n“What do you mean?”\n\nI’d humor this one \n\n“I am Cryst, god of communications”\n\n“And that helps me how?”\n\n“I have another worshipper up the coast. I can help you find them”\n\n“For?”\n\n“I’ll need your worship for as long as it takes you to get there.”\n\nI shouldn’t....but to find another human. What was the point of rejecting?\n\n“I’m in”",
"I misread the title as flowers of the gods at first, So here is my interpretation. =D\n\n\n***\n\n\nI tend to my garden and water my hydrangeas. The peonies screech out with the voice of Poseidon, “You would feed mine enemy mortal? Your family shall be lost to the tides!”\n\nThis of course as it always does sets off the rest of the flowers in the garden, the Louisiana Iris burbles in a thick but self righteous Nordic accent. “Oi, Ye god of the sea was it? Ye are nothing. I once drank an inch off ya. Not so great now are ye.”\n\nThe hydrangeas start hooting and hollering sounds of encouragement. His wilted yellow leaves perk up at the sounds of the raucous garden. \n\nThe rose bush speaks out in ancient Hebrew, trying to silence the rest; but it is of no use.\n\nThe camellia bush merely sits there in silence shooting sharp flower petals at the rest. I groan frustrated.\n\nTomorrow I’m going to teach myself how to install a fricken sprinkler system.\n",
"The daemon stared at me from across the cafeteria. A dozen cans clicked together in my bag.\n\nUpside down face, fangs drooling black ink. Face taker; had a half dozen borrowed lifetimes under it's belt.\n\nI'd been hoping to avoid this.\n\nThe mouth opened and the forked tongue flicked out, eyes flicking across my body. Getting a read of what I'd do.\n\nI didn't know what I'd do. That was what made me interesting.\n\nI moved first, and threw my satchel across the room towards the exit.\n\nGlad I did, because in the next moment, the beast was moving, launching itself forward on humans legs contorted with black fibres. The table exploded underneath of the creature's weight, and in the next moment, it caught a chair across it's fucking ugly face, and I was moving, feeling the strain in the back of my shoulders where I'd thrown it.\n\nIt fell over on it's side, legs flailing like a damn spider, and I fucking booked it.\n\nIt screamed in a little girl's voice in frustration, but by the time it'd flipped over I was already by the door to the cafeteria, hooking my satchel over my shoulder. The cans thumped against my back.\n\nNo point looking back. The Daemon would be there until it had my face.\n\nBut fuck it, it'd been half a year since the end of the world, and I'd picked up a few tricks as well. \n\nThe burnt out building had been a school before the end of the world. Classrooms stood with skeletons rimming them, with the occasional communication on blackboard. Evacuation plans written on walls, yellowed from the black haze in the air. The sun hung low, broken in a grey sky.\n\nBut fuck it, and fuck them for dying, I was going to make it out alive.\n\n\"Where are you going? Don't you want to play?\" The Face-taker whispered.\n\nOh my god how I didn't want to play. Another few yards and I was out of the front of the building. It wasn't the way I'd came in, but the man-spider had showed up while I was raiding the kitchen, so I was fucked to go back that way.\n\nWhich was why I was surprised to find the beast's web. Braided paper, ribbed, sharp, studded with remnants of the beast's kills.\n\nAnd straddling the entirely of the street like a big sticky trap. Crows warked inside of it, screaming for help.\n\nI wasn't going to have anything to do with them.\n\nI kept running and slammed the rusting doors in front of the Daemon. Okay, fine, the way ahead was blocked, and the way back was covered in a mess of a fucker I didn't have enough time to deal with.\n\nSo I ran across the crackling dried lawn of the school yard, careening towards the fence. Then jump up, did a few lazy steps up the posts (felt it in my legs, I wasn't made for this at all), wished I'd been into parkour instead of retail, and then hurled myself across the other side.\n\nWhich was when shit got bad, because I felt a god slide in behind my eyes. \"You seem to be in a bit of trouble,\" the god cooed, his voice like a cat's purr played on a violin.\n\nAmused creature, amused voice. I'd heard them a dozen times, and never had the courage to respond to them. It was bad luck to owe a god a favor of any sort.\n\nI ignored it, and kept right on running.\n\nThe man-spider, the face taker, had covered up the road, the easiest way back into the city where I could find my camp and hope to god nobody'd taken my stuff, but that didn't mean there weren't alternate routes.\n\nA sprawling mess of alleyways was perfect.\n\nFor me and the spider.\n\nI dove into the first one and skidded in the muck; half finished from last night's rain, drainage clogged up. I clipped my elbow across the wall, stars dancing across my eyes, and barely avoided face planting, but then I was back on my feet.\n\n\"Oh,\" The face-taker whispered. \"You're hurt. Let me fix that right up for you~!\"\n\nIt was on the building now, hands digging into the window frames, pressing against nooks and crannies, breaking off fingernails from dead finger tips and it sounded like death itself crawling smooth.\n\nI turned the corner and kept right on running.\n\nAnother fence, this one half bladed. If I just got a little further, just a little bit more.\n\n\"I can help you know,\" The god offered. \"If you need it.\"\n\nI slammed into the fence and desperately tried to mount it, clawing at it... but momentum failed me and I tumbled back down onto the muck and decay.\n\nLeaving only the spider closing in.\n\nSaw it move, saw the fingers twitch. Another added life the beast's span. A fucking mindless hunter was coming after me, and it was going to get me because I'd been caught out.\n\nMy heart pounded in my chest to see it here. Now that my avenues were reduced...\n\nI didn't want to do it. Doing it would consign me to misery. Pain. Break the vow I'd made five months ago, when he'd left to go north.\n\nBut I wasn't going to catch up to him without it.\n\nSo I broke the vow to remain godless.\n\n\"Fine, fine fine,\" I muttered under my breath. Fingers balled up into fists. I couldn't die here. I had to make it to the next city. Had to make sure he was still there, waiting for me.\n\nI couldn't let him down. Not dying in the middle of a goddamn burnt city like some nobody.\n\nThe gods were petty petty devils. The settlements I'd been in had told me that much. Tricky things that demanded and took and competed for followers in the hollowed out shell left behind of planet earth. If I was lucky, it wouldn't kill me.\n\nIf I was unlucky, it might just save me entirely.\n\n\"Am I your first?\" The god cooed.\n\nI swallowed. I'd heard it hurt.\n\n\"Unfortunately...\" I whispered. The spider drew closer. I could hear it breathing from its upside down face. Judgement day hadn't done a thing to it, when man lost the battle.\n\nBut we were still clinging on. We were still trying. And if I was lucky, I might get to a hold out point.\n\n\"Now.\"\n\nMy left arm exploded into pain. Skin crawled, nerves re-positioning attached to bone tugging tension. Fist clenched.\n\nA strangled yelp came from my throat, and my stomach heaved.\n\n\"Keep it steady,\" The god cooed. \"Or you might draw another god to laugh at your misfortune for letting my blessing kill you.\"\n\nI didn't want a laugh track to accompany my death, so I clenched my right fist as hard as I could, until the nubs of my fingernails kissed the skin white.\n\nThe Face-taker cooed, and the face rotated ninety degrees. A little girl, perhaps, had been the last meal. How many months ago was that?\n\nThis city was long gone.\n\nMy left arm burst into fire, and then wept shadows.\n\n\"Now,\" The god said, grinning behind my neck. I could hear the breath on my shoulder, felt the wind whistle with his touch.\n\nAnd then death, hot, raw, painful, bleeding, leapt from my left hand, obliterated out of my mortal flesh, tugged at the very fabric of my very real soul, and flew at the spider.\n\nA momentary flash of recognition in the beast's face. Just a moment when the eyes twitched too real, too alive. When it stole their lives, had it taken their minds as well?\n\nThen the blast took it, and it fell coated in spreading black and twitched on the ground at the mouth of the alleyway. Arms flickered and flexed.\n\nMy left arm smoked and sizzled. Bones crackled unnaturally. I couldn't look at it for more than a second.\n\n\"I hope you have a way of fixing that,\" I muttered. But I'd acknowledged the god again, and they laughed.\n\n\"Oh, my darling message boy, we have so much more than just fixing it in mind.\"\n\nand distantly, I could hear the whole chorus of gods laughing as they found someone else to torture. Another pilgrim to test to see if he was worthy. Another person to constrain.\n\nBut I was a cynic to the core. A dozen gods flitter fluttering past.\n\nBut now I owed a favor.\n\nSweat rolled down my brow. Hitched my backpack across my shoulders again, stepped around the Daemon, and started on my way.\n\nAnd you repaid the gods, one way or another.\n\n-----\n\nhttps://old.reddit.com/r/Zubergoodstories/ If you want more like this, click here. Might write more, I'll throw links up if I do.\n"
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[WP] You're from a small town and you've just been accepted as a journeyman armorsmith in the city. Today is the first day you're all on your own in armor design, manufacturing, and sales. It's also your first encounter with the bane of every armorsmiths existence: the Professional Adventurer.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"It has been 30 minutes. I don't know whether to call the guards or run for my life but curiosity has paralyzed me I suppose. I had never seen a professional adventurer before. Master spoke of them all the time. About their epic deeds and magnificent equipment.\n\nHe has unloaded dagger after dagger, attempting to sell them to me. At first I offered fair deals like 4-5 coins for the daggers. They looked average but he just kept dropping more and more. I'm offering a coin for each now and he doesn't mind. I don't understand, some are exceptional and even beyond what I could make.\n\n\"And how much for these luv?\" he said as he dumped various armor parts on the table, most with varying degrees of damage to them. Some daggers drop to the floor.\n\nI reach for the nearest part but something disgusting sticks to my hand. \"Is this...\" I start but he cuts me off. \"Yea yea, bloke didn't quite feel like departing with that so I *persuaded*, his arm off.\". After the shock, I notice other armor pieces are like this. Some still with parts of their former owners apparently as a foot drops from the dragon scale boots in my hands. \n\nIgnoring the horrifying situation I force myself to speak. \"This is...really dragon scale?\". The \"noobnibbler\" as he calls himself was busy getting intimately close with items on sale on the shelves. \n\n\"Yes luv, I jimmied them off miself.\" he said as he tried to balance a basket on my head. He radiates death and his mere presence inches away turns me to stone. One wrong move and I'm certain I'll have my toes dropping from my boots as well. He keeps checking, looking at my face as I lift the basket just enough with gentle head movements to see him but not dare drop it off. *Why is he crouched and staring at me?*\n\nHe gets disappointed after a while and stands up turning towards me, \"So luv, how much for all this?\"\n\nWith the basket still on my head, I start shuffling through the items once more. Armor with slashes, bronze armor, *An amulet* . I immediately remember it. I keep it under lock in my house. Hell, I checked it this morning. Could it be a similar looking fake?\n\n\"Where did you get this?\" I ask, trying to hide my fear and anger with the best poker face I have. \"Got it from some loot in a dragon lair, thas where, yeah.\" he said fidgety suddenly.\n\nNormally, the commerce guild never allows a shop to be empty. There must always be a shopkeeper at work hours. Normally. The guild law also states that, if one were to notice anything suspicious with anything or anyone, they must report to the nearest guard immediately.\n\n*Normally*\n\nA brief thinking of how me running out of the shop and calling the guards would go, I decide on an approach where my toes and other parts would still be attached to me.\n\n\"I'll give you 732gp for those 732 daggers, 5gp for each piece of armor except the dragon scale one which I will give 50gp. Also, 2gp for the amulet\" I say, sweat trickling down my forehead. \n\nThe *noobnibbler* thinks about it briefly and accepts. As he leaves the shop, he suddenly crouches and waddles behind the wall of the back room, like a duck. I can still see his back partially. I can hear he is picking the lock of the safe there. Dear god have mercy, what am I to do?\n\nAnother customer has walked in and after a brief greeting she notices my statuesque stance and radiating fear and turns to look at where I was looking previously. As we are both staring at the lock picking man's back, she suddenly storms out of the shop, shouting \"Guards!\".\n\n*No*\n\nThe adventurer stops picking the lock and sighs visibly taking a few steps back to full visibility now. \"I don't know why she did that\" I shout, taking a few steps back from him myself.\n\n\"No matter luv, I know you did your best. I'll see you in a bit.\n\n* * * \n\nIt's my first day and I'm so excited, I can't even put it into words. I can't thank my master enough that he has given me this wondrous opportunity.\n\nAs I am babbling and giggling to myself with joy, a man in heavy set boots, No, heavy set everything enters. The floor creaks beneath his massive weight. His sword and armor is so exquisite, it is beyond anything I could even think, let alone make. So, this is what an adventurer looks like.\n\n\"Hello luv, I'm noobnibbler and I got stuff to sell.\"\n\n\n* * *\n\n*I enjoy writing short prompts. If you are curious for more:* [r/spider_elephant](https://www.reddit.com/r/spider_elephant/)\n"
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[WP] Everyone is given a bucket list at birth. People do not die until the bucket list is completed. However, when you complete yours you remain alive.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I came into the world at 10:03 PM on January 23rd, 5089. My birth was transmitted to the Mind and the List was delivered to my mother by the Office of Population at 10:05 PM that same night. \n\nIt did not bear my name - I did not have a name yet - but only my serial number, printed in small official numerals at the top of the page, upper right-hand corner. It was thick, acid-free, ceremonial paper, printed to last. All Bucket Lists were printed on good stock.\n\nMy mother read my List and looked up from the Gurney. \"It isn't even a list,\" she complained to the Office of Population liaison, \"there must be a mistake. He'll complete it before his 16th birthday!\". But the small, suited man said nothing. He did not even pause. He had many such deliveries to make, and anyway, he did not write the Lists. \n\nWhen I was 16, as tradition demanded, I was given my Bucket List. It was also traditional for parents to have their children's Lists framed in decorative casings, placed beneath specially cut glass with small squares left open so that the items could be checked off one by one over the years.\n\nMy parents forewent such extravagances. They gave me my Bucket List folded up in a simple envelope. It was a somber occasion, the two of them looking unhappily at me, handing over the envelope as though it were a death sentence. My mother cried as I took it in my hands. \n\nI admit I was anxious as I tore into the paper and removed the List, cognizant that it had been \"specially crafted\" by the Mind, just for me. I unfolded the page, and my breath caught in my chest. It read simply:\n\n> Read a book.\n\nI remember gaping at the page even as my mother broke into inconsolable sobbing. My father took her in his arms and held her tightly.\n\nOf course, I knew why they were crying. In fact, several things which had not made sense for years suddenly came into focus. Primary among them was my parent's great sadness at my love for the written word. \n\nAt first they tried to stop me from reading. But, at some point, when I was ten or eleven, I stole away with a book from the school library and finished it in secret. It was The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. When I was done, I haplessly and with great pride announced my accomplishment to my mother, who wailed as though she'd been stabbed in the gut. \n\nSince then, my parents had not cared whether I read or not and instead treated me as though I were already dead, as though I were a package of meat or a carton of milk, expiration date fast approaching. I was to them a sickly puppy they dare not become too attached to. \n\nStanding there, looking at the Bucket List, I finally understood why. \n\nIt was father who spoke first. \"Well\", he began, voice firm and practiced, \"as you can see son, you have already completed your List.\"\n\nI nodded quietly.\n\nHe continued, \"It's not your fault. These things happen. Unfortunately, this means your time is up. Having turned 16 you are a full citizen, and citizenry comes with certain responsibilities we all must bear.\"\n\nMy mother broke into a round of racking sobs. My father consoled her and continued, stoic.\n\n\"It's a tough hand son, but it's the hand the Mind has dealt you.\" He stepped toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder. \"I'll give you a couple of hours and we'll head over to Reclamation.\"\n\nThe Office of Reclamation was where citizens went when their bucket list was completed. It was the final stop in every citizen's life, the completion of the sacrosanct Social Contract. \n\n\"No.\"\n\nI heard the word as though someone else had spoken it. Then I saw my father's confused look and swallowed the fear in my throat.\n\n\"No,\" I said again, firmer this time.\n\nMy father stared at me in abject confusion. My mother was so astounded that she paused in her weeping and gaped at me, wide-eyed. \"What?\" she asked, genuinely not understanding.\n\nI stood my ground. \"I won't go.\"\n\nThe two of them shared a concerned look as total silence overtook the room. Eventually, my father cleared his throat and spoke again, nervous. \"Son, I know this doesn't seem fair - hell, it *isn't* fair - but this is the Bucket List the Mind has set for you, and you've completed it. Several dozen times, in fact.\"\n\n\"I know,\" I said, \"but I'm not going to the Office of Reclamation. I won't do it.\"\n\nNow it was my mother who spoke her piece, her eyes red-rimmed, her voice ripe with confusion. \"But, it's your time. You completed your Bucket List, you're sixteen years old —\" she paused and looked helplessly at my father, who nodded in support, then she turned back to me, more certain, \"—the Mind requires it.\"\n\nAt this point, feeling brazen and hot with righteous anger, I did something which, I've since been told, no citizen had done in over three thousand years. I lifted my Bucket List with both hands high in front of me and tore it straight down the middle. The high-quality paper stock took some force to rip through, but I was determined. \n\nAs the two halves of the sacred document fell to the floor, my mother simply gaped in open-mouthed amazement. My father raced forward and collected the two slivers of thick paper, stammering incoherently about the Social Contract and his disappointment. Somewhere in his gibbering, I came to understand that I was grounded, and, eager to escape the uncomfortable situation, I retreated to my bedroom. \n\nOver the next few days, I waited for something to happen. At first, I fully expected agents of the Mind to arrive at our house and drag me, screaming and kicking, to the Office of Reclamation. I figured that it must be fairly common for citizens to resist the Call and that systems must be in place to force compliance.\n\nBut as the days turned into weeks, when no officers appeared at our front door, I began to realize that no one was coming for me. My parents, of course, remained adamant. Whenever I saw them they would focus on nothing else, excoriating and begging me in turn. One day they would talk about the \"weight of social responsibility\" and look at me with eyes full of disappointment. The next they would all but plead that I turn myself into the Office of Reclamation, as though by refusing to do so I was committing an assault not only against society and the Mind, but against them directly. \n\nIn time, my fear diminished and I began living my life again. I went back to school, where news had spread of my insubordination. My teachers looked at me with open scorn, as did the parents of other students and every adult I encountered. Many of the students themselves seemed to agree that I was a social miscreant. \n\nBut some were less convinced. In particular, many of the new citizens - my fellow sixteen and seventeen-year-olds - seemed to be newly empowered. They spoke to me with newfound respect, as though I were the most popular kid in the school, as though I had returned from the dead. They did not, of course, tear up their own bucket lists - no one could yet imagine being so brazen - but somehow they seemed more at ease. Just knowing that the lists *could* be torn up was solace enough apparently.\n\nMy insubordination to the Mind was not entirely without consequence. Three weeks after my sixteenth birthday, my father, overcome with personal shame, decided to complete the final, long-standing item on his own list. He booked a cruise to the Bahamas, kissed my mother goodbye. He left on a clear-skied Thursday afternoon to go \"swim with dolphins,\" as the List suggested. There was no question that he would not be returning - he took his otherwise completed and fashionably framed Bucket List with him. \n\nThis left only my mother and I. Eventually, we received my Father's Reclamation benefit, which helped support us for a time. But my mother did not work, and as a social pariah, I could not find even a menial job. No one would hire me. \n\nWe lived in a kind of limbo for two years. Right before my 18th birthday, my mother used the last remnants of my father's Reclamation benefit to complete her last Bucket List item. It was like a reverse birthday gift - a birthday punishment for a birthday boy who, in her mind, should no longer have existed.\n\nAs she left for the airfield to catch her skydiving flight, I saw her off, her bucket list held gently in my hands, framed in dark red wood with delicately carved flowers in relief along its surface. \n\n\"You don't need to go,\" I told her.\n\nBut she reached out and took her List from me with no small degree of indignation, as though I'd slapped her in the face.\n\n\"How dare you?\" she asked and walked off to the waiting taxi. I never saw her again.\n\nA week later my mother's Reclamation benefit arrived at the house. Fifteen thousand dollars. The value of my mother to the Mind, calculated as a fine-tuned, constantly shifting proportion to the current global market price of a ton of carbon dioxide. As a middle-aged woman, I imagine my mother was worth substantially less than I would have netted my parents, had I been willing to abide by the will of the Mind. \n\nI tried to sell the house and everything in it. No upstanding citizen would buy it. In the end, I paid one hundred dollars to the owner of a recycling center to simply destroy everything. \n\nSeventy-three years ago to the day, on January 23rd, 5107, at 3 PM, on my 18th birthday, I watched a bulbous, sweaty man methodically pulverize my childhood into dust with a hulking yellow bulldozer. \n\nOnce the deed was done, I breathed a sigh of relief and started walking I knew not where in search of a place beyond the influence of the Mind. It would be years before I found it. \n\nAs I went, my neighbors locked their doors and I now and again spied their anxious eyes watching me go, peering out from between the slats of quivering shades.\n\n**********\n\n#### For More Legends From The Multiverse\n\n## r/LFTM\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You wake up one day and are only able to speak a language no one has ever heard of. You can form sentences in your head but as soon as you try to articulate them, weird sounds come out. You try to explain the situation to your friends.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I rub my hands together and lift up three fingers. Todd and Keith, my two doofus roommates, glance at one another.\n\n“Oh, a charade game, Brian? It’s been too long!” Todd smiles excitedly.\n\n*No, you bloody idiot.* I think to myself. *I can’t speak* ***english*** *anymore!*\n\n​\n\n*-this morning-*\n\n​\n\nIt all started this morning when I woke up to a loud feminine moaning noises coming from Keith’s room. That idiotic roomate of mine must’ve forgotten to plug in his headphones again. I shouted at him to stop, since I don’t want the landlord to come here and complain again, but all that came out of my mouth was…nothing!\n\nMy eyes widened and I tried shouting again, this time only making soft purring noises. My mind was racing and I tried to think of a solution. *Sore throat?* I dashed out my room and into the kitchen. Todd, my other roommate, was laying down the kitchen floor in a fetal position hugging an ice cream bucket. Probably after a drunken movie night. I remember trying to go to the toilet and see him crying to Frozen musical scene with ice cream all over his lap.\n\nI opened the fridge too quickly and hit Todd’s head with the door. He groaned and rolled out the way. I muttered an apology, but it sounded like a fart more than anything. He chuckles in his sleep. “Hehe…good one, Brian…Zzz.”\n\nScanning the fridge’s content, I quickly found the milk container and chugged its content like there’s no tomorrow. Wiping my mouth, I feel the cold liquid gone down my throat and released a relaxed *Ahhhh.*\n\nBut yet again, nothing came out. At least not the sound I expected. It’s more like a crying banshee now.\n\n​\n\n*-Back to the present-*\n\n​\n\n“Can?” I clap my hand and nod. After trying to find a remedy for my missing voice all morning, I decide having two other brains to help me find help might be much easier. Even if those two brains are soggy and slow. So far I managed to get them to say the letter ‘I’ and ‘can’ after an hour. God help me if the rest of the word take a whole day…\n\nI form a plus sign with my pointer fingers.\n\n“Uh…T?” Todd guesses. I nod furiously.\n\n“Taco!” Keith shouts. He claps his hands together. “Taco for dinner?”\n\n“No, you dimwit! It’s so obvious!” Todd puffs his chest. “He meant Todd! Me!”\n\n*You’re the same kind of dimwit.* I wanted to shout that but I just shake my head.\n\nI roll my fingers backward, asking them to go back.\n\n“Turning? Wheel? Backflip?” The two of them scratch their heads.\n\nI try the plus sign again.\n\n“Was my T correct?” I clap my hands and nod again. Alright, last word.\n\nI point at my mouth.\n\n“Uh…eat?”\n\n“Eating taco?”\n\n*I need something else…* Just as I turn to find a clue, an anchorwoman appear on the TV. I excitedly point at her.\n\n“Oh, what about her?” Todd look at me puzzled.\n\n“Nice rack…” Keith mutters. *This damn pervert...*\n\nI vigorously point at the anchorwoman and my mouth.\n\nTodd smirks. “ Do you mean a blowjo-“ I smack his mouth before he finishes talking.\\*~~^(Can’t have him ruin this PG-13 writing prompt smh)~~\\**^(.)* The slap is much louder than I expected so I feel a bit guilty when he whispers an apology.\n\n“…speak?” Keith finally guesses correctly. I clap my hands and give him two thumbs-up. I wait for them to conclude everything together. They also wait for me to play another word.\n\nI groan again. This time, I sound more like a gargling donkey.\n\n“AHA! IT’S ‘I CAN’T SPEAK’ !” Todd shouts victoriously gives Keith a high five.\n\nThen….silence. As if everyone just realized what I have been doing all this time.\n\n“Have you tried writing it down?”\n\nI slap my forehead. I’ve been trying to find the solution online, and I have typed like 30 words in the search bar the whole morning. How could I have missed that?\n\n*Ah…maybe…* I conclude. *Maybe I’m also dumb.*\n\n​\n\n*-the end!-*\n\n​\n\nWant more? Come to /r/Niteshade_corner !"
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[WP] You find yourself and your phone full of mp3s in a world where spells are cast via music and every song can cast a spell.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Let it be known I have never regretted downloading millions of songs and pressing the shuffle button. \n\nThe first five minutes where unexpectedly hellish. You know, besides the part were I was relaxing in my room with the music playing one minute, and the next I'm in some castle with fantasy races surrounding me on top of some glyph on the floor. Wich I might add clearly had magical notes inscribed for some reason.\n\nThis being a shocking moment, I dropped my phone. In the process, my headphones were disconnected. Letting the music out through the speakers. Looking back on it, it's incredibly ironic that this particular song had been playing when I was summoned. \n\nBodies by Drowning Pool, is a form of death magic it seams.\n\nNow while I was trying to deal with the traumatic experience of watching a few dozen people just drop dead before me, lady luck desired to screw me even further. I Can't Stop by Flux Pavilion was next. Evidently makeing me immortal, also freezing my phone in a constant shuffle that I can't turn off.\n\nAnd that's how I became the Herald of Distruction in this new world. Appropriate I guess, since I found out later the people who brought me here where a domesday cult. Considering some of the ludicrous stunts my music had pulled off the last couple years, I might just have one song that blows up the planet. \n\nFingers crossed it's not All Star."
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[WP] the entire universe is an alien’s grad school project that they had to pull 3 all-nighters for the week before. It’s being graded now.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“And you call it gravity?”\n\n\n“Yes it’s extremely complicated to explain the fine details but the shortened version is that it’s a force that pushes things towards other things”\n\n\n“Yes I will say mark that I find it odd that you would create such a large life holder and only have one comparable small area that can actually support the life, most people doing this test are hesitant to make 10% of there life holder non life compatible, and yet you made much less then one billionth of a percentile of this life holder compatible for actual life. Surely designing all of that was incredible hard and time consuming when you would of known that the \nvast majority of it wouldn’t support life”\n\n\n“Oh certainly it was hard but I believe it was needed, you see my main intelligent life in this life holder are humans and they are a very cynical group, them knowing that they exist in only an unfathomable small section of what they call it “the universe” would make them feel worse and thus make there evolution even more interesting to play out, they are also incredible curios so the universe would be one massive puzzle for them to solve”\n\n\n“Yes and that right there is my main issue with your life holder, the humans themselves. I could talk all day about how ineffective the “universes” design but your life is one of the most odd life forms we’ve ever seen in dragon high, they have the ability to... uhh what did you call it?”\n\n\n“Love and hate, it’s the ability to want to sacrifice there own desires and wishes to make another persons life better or worse”\n\n\n“Right and that is one of the most ineffective emotions we have ever seen designed, while it does slightly boost work effort and battle skills when you do it for someone else overall it’s a massive disadvantage to the race, peoples decision making ability is greatly reduced when under the influence of love and hate, now while we greatly encourage giving your life forms weaknesses you wrote this down as a strength for their race”\n\n“Yes and I did this because while they’re more ineffective under the influence of these emotions their happiness level is greatly increased and-“\n\n\n“Mark, do you remember what we taught you about happiness and effectiveness?”\n\n\n“*sigh* Yes teacher, happiness is a luxury and usefulness is a necessity”\n\n\n“Very good, now aside from your weird emotions added your life holder is well done, I expect a B+ at most!”\n\n\n"
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[WP] You wake up, its dark all around you. You realise you are still in your tomb. But there is something. Muffled voices from outside. You cannot understand them but you know you will be freed and after a thousand years your eyes begin to gloom in a piercing blue once again.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I am terrified. \n\nI lay there, my wrists bound in the coffin. The darkness is choking me. There are voices from outside. I can’t tell what they’re saying but I can make out a few words.\n\n“Bloody... deserved... free... thousand years...”\n\nSo in one thousand years, I’ll be free! I know that whoever or whatever frees me, I will devote my life to them. I can’t remember anything about my past, but that doesn’t matter now. All I have for the next thousand years is myself and my thoughts. So now is the time to wait. \n\nI wait. I comtemplate the wonders of the universe, and make up a language only I know. But even though I know I will be freed, and that for now I enjoy being alone, I despise the feeling of being lonely. I wish to have company in my life. But I won’t get any, at least not now. Just wait. Wait. Wait. Someone will find me. I won’t be alone forever. Oh, why do I lie to myself? Maybe that person I heard was lying, or telling a joke. I hate this feeling. Betrayal. Betrayed by a person I never knew, and my never know. Just wait. Maybe make a name for yourself. John? Adam? Apollo? K’Hule? No. None of them fit. Perhaps I should let others name me. Yes, when I arrive in the world I shall let them name me. \n\nSuddenly, there’s a light. It seems to be coming from my eyes. It’s blue. Am I being freed after all this time? \n\nYes! I hear clawing at the front of the tomb. “Please!” I shout. “Come free me! I am here!” The clawing grows faster and faster, until I am blinded by a bright light. When my eyes adjust, I am greeted by a strange but smiling creature covered in a sort of golden fur. It pants and licks my face. “Thank you,” I say. “I owe my life to you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth because you freed me from a fate worse than death. Please, take off these bonds and I will do anything for you.” It goes down to my wrists and gnaws on the rope. The rope breaks and I immediately embrace the strange but wonderful creature. A young girl comes running over. \n\n“Is this your protector, this animal?” I ask her. “For it is very compassionate and I would want nothing more than to spend my time with the ones who freed me.”\n\nShe looks at me strangely. “Um, okay.”",
"She almost cursed the light when she saw it.\n\nWere time less of a fickle thing, she may have gotten bored of thinking of ways to slaughter them. Endless blackness, endless confinement, endless sleep. She wasn’t even sure she could move in her prison, and yet she could feel the shackles binding her mortal form to... something. She could thrash and bite and gnaw and scream, anything she’d thought of a thousand times to release herself, but it was all for naught. She’d fought for what seemed like centuries, grew bored, plotted, and growing bored of plotting gave rise to another wave of thrashing against her tomb. The only constant was the rage.\n\nOh, what she would give to see them again.\n\nNo, that wasn’t right. They didn’t deserve to die. Suffer endlessly, maybe, but not die. If there was one thing that she’d never forgotten, it was the retched stench of their fear as they sealed her tomb. The final light she saw as the tomb closed looked exactly like the blinding rays that pierced her unwilling eyes once the gargantuan lid slowly ground into the stone as it was slid off. A thousand years of nothing, of screaming, of silence, and as unceremoniously as a passing thought, she was free.\n\nShe immediately launched herself forward. The dimeritium shackles that bound her suddenly snapped taunt. She surged forward, growling against the creaking metal binding her. They were used to suppress her power. Now that her prison was being unsealed, the barriers were falling away, her limitless strength returning. Metal groaned as she dug in her feet and fought for her freedom.\n\nShe tasted the scent of iron and the peons cowered before her. She was once one of them, their greatest champion, and they disposed of her in fear once she was just a hair's breath from defeating the Defiled once and for all. So great was their fear of what she would do if she actually succeeded, they entombed her.\n\nThere was only one left, cowering in fear, fingers torn to pieces in an effort to unleash her. The wound in his gut was only sputtering blood now, his skin an ashen green, and smelled like death and rot, infection eating at his flesh.. He had, at best, an hour left to live.\n\nAnother smell was on the wind, fetid and vile. Corpses of those one considered her kinfolk lay before her, dead with slashes marring their fragile skin.\n\nShe wasn't awoken out of fear, but desperation. There was no hope left but for oldest and last warrior.\n\nThey betrayed her. She should finish the job the Defiled started.\n\nNo...\n\nAs much as she wanted to.\n\nTime to get to work. Her old foes were crawling at the door."
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[WP] You die and arrive in an afterlife. As idyllic as it is, you're desperate to escape and return to tell the living world that it really exists.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"It was an electrical short, Ben thought. It must have been.\n\nHis head pounding, he tried to think about what had happened.\nHe remembered being up at the lecturn, giving his speech after being elected president of the university's atheism society. The girl he liked, Anne, was starting up at him, smiling.\n\nThen, there was a flash and the smell of ozone. Then pain and light.\n\nThe ceiling must have collapsed. That was it. So where was he now? A hospital? Despite his pain, the bed he was was the most comfortable he had ever felt.\n\nBeen opened his eyes. \"Hello?\" he said. Everything was white.\n\nHe heard a whimper, and something warm and wet touched his outstretched left hand.\n\nHe looked left.\n\n\"Wex!\" Ben said, smiling. He reached over to pet his beloved Golden retriever.\n\n\"Wex,\" he said, crying as he wrapped his arms around Wex. \"I thought you were dead. We buried you and everything.\"\n\nSlowly things began to dawn on Ben. He looked around again at the White bed on white, fluffy ground. It was all surrounded by white fluffiness.\n\nHe looked back at Wex. \"You are dead after all, aren't you? And so am I\"\n\nSomeone else appeared a distance away. A bald man, pale white, wearing a white robe.\n\n\"That's right, Ben. Welcome to Heaven.\" the man said. \"Your grandfather is waiting. He's in the back playing Half-Life Three.\"\n\n\"What? That doesn't exist.\"\n\nThe bald man rolled his eyes. \"Says the athiest in Heaven.\"\n\nBen stood up. \"Ok. What about my grandmother?\" he asked.\n\nThe man pressed his hands together. \"Ah, I'm sorry to tell you this, but she went... somewhere else.\"\n\nBen frowned. \"Oh.\" he said, looking down at the white fluffy floor. \"Might I ask why?\"\n\nThe man said \"well, it's complicated. Some people use their faith to--\"\n\n\"It was the time she tried to beat Christianity into me when she found out I was athiest, wasn't it?\"\n\nThe man hesitated. \"I suppose you could say that was part of it...\" he said.\n\n\"But she was right,\" Ben said. \"Wasn't she? I mean, all this exists.\"\n\n\"It's not what you believe,\" the man said, \"but what you do with those beliefs.\"\n\n\"Hmm...\" Ben looked over. \"You know, if the guys back home knew that, things might be different. Can I go back and tell them?\"\n\n\"Absolutely not,\" the man said, smiling in a way that made it look like he was trying not to frown.\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"You're dead.\" the man said.\n\n\"No I'm not.\" Ben argued. \"See? I can still move and talk. Can dead people move and talk?\"\n\nThis time the man did frown.\n\n\"You know what? I don't want another argumentative athiest up here. But, I can't send you down *there*, so...\"\n\n\"So I can go back?\" Ben said, beaming.\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\n\"Hold on,\" Ben said. \"What about Wex?\"\n\n\"No.\" the man said. \"This is the natural habitat of golden retrievers. You'll see him when you get back. *If* you end up here again.\"\n\n\"Aw.\" Ben said. \"See you again, buddy.\" He hugged Wex one last time, giving him a white, fluffy treat that appeared in his hand.\n\nBen looked back to the man. \"I never got your name...\" Ben said.\n\n\"No, you didn't.\" The man waved his arms, and Ben's vision became foggy. His head exploded with pain, then he found himself lying under a collapsed florescent light fixture, his friends all staring down at him. Anne was crouched beside him, tears running down her eyes.\n\n\"Hey guys,\" he said, smiling. \"You'll never believe what happened. I just died and went to Heaven.\"\n\nAnne sniffed and then smiled. \"Did you, now?\"\n\nShe bent down and kissed him.\n\n\"Yeah.\" he said. \"And I don't think I want to leave.\""
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[WP] A cat, newly adopted into the family, is briefed on the household by the older dog.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
" I scrunched up at the back of the cage. I was nervous and the swinging of the cage wasnt helping. I sighed as I was set down. The door swung open and I squealed. I heard a loud noise and then it was quiet. I listened intently but heard nothing. Cautiously I crept toward the door. I glanced out seeing nothing. I was in a white room with large white things. Nothing moved as I watched. \n\n Feeling braver I stepped out of the cage. Nothing moved under my watchful yellow eyes. I moved slowly over the cool tiles. I jumped up to a wide perch, where I could survey everything. Nothing was moving but I caught movement behind me. I screeched whipping around. \n\n It was another cat! I growled, my black hair standing on end. The other cats hair stood up to. I swipped at the cat, while growling some more. \n\n \"Calm down.\" The voice was low and demanding. \n\n I moved to the edge trying hard to keep the cat in view along with whoever was talking to me. It was a smallish brown dog. \"Who are you?\" \n\n \"I'm Terrik. I've lived here 15 years. Come down here, we need to talk.\" The dog said calmly. \n\n I glanced down at him. \"I don't talk to dogs.\" \n\n \"Hmmm.\" Terrik laid down. \"Don't mind me. My old bones hurt, so I'll just rest while you fight your reflection.\" \n\n I glanced back at the cat. It was turned half away and it was the same black as my paws. The other cat wasn't moving just like me. I settled at the end of the perch. \"What do we need to talk about?\" \n\n Terrik looked up at me. \"I've lived with this family my whole life. They are good people. I started out with Mr. when I was just a pup. The way I chewed he should have been mad. Instead he bought me toys and played endless games with me.\" \n\n I sighed already bored with his reminiscence. \n\n I could hear the amusement when Terrik said. \"Lets go for a walk. Ill show you the house. They are at school, work and daycare.\" \n\n I jumped down and followed him out the door. The place seemed huge with lots of doors. Terrik led me into a room. \"This is Mr. and Mrs. Room. I sleep in here.\" He nodded at the large comfortable bed at the end of a high piece of furniture. I jumped up, the soft material giving under my paws. I curled up on the bright red fabric. \"Its so comfy up here. You should sleep up here.\" \n\n \"Mr. let me until Mrs. came.\" Terrik said. \"I liked Mrs. as soon as I met her. She would bring me treats. She still does.\" \n\n I glanced down at him. \"Will she bring me treats?\" I asked hesitantly. \n\n Terrik nodded. \"I'm sure she will. Come on.\" \n\n I followed him into the next room. I stepped carefully around the books and toys. \"This room is messy.\" \n\n \"Prince is a little boy. He loves to pull everything out and play.\" Terrik told me. \"I spend hours in here with him. I've been a deer, horse, cow, baby and monster.\" \n\n \"Why?\" I asked incredulously. \n\n \"It makes him happy.\" Terrik said simply. \"His smile and laugh are contiguous. Soon everyone is in here. We have the best times.\" \n\n I rolled my eyes. Then I went out to the hallway again. \"Which room is next?\" \n\n \"Princess room.\" Terrik said walking into the last room. I noticed he was limping greatly. \n\n \"Are you ok?\" I asked concerned. \n\n Terrik nodded. \"My old bones hurt sometimes. Princess is the newest member of the family. She is still tiny.\" \n\n We continued down a set of stairs. \n\n \"This is the kitchen. I sit under the table and get all kinds of food from Prince.\" Terrik grinned. \n\n I noticed he was unsteady on his feet. \n\n \"Only one more room.\" Terrik led me into the last room. \n\n I barely glanced around it. \n\n \"We...watch...movies...cuddle...play....rough.\" Terrik panted. \n\n \"Terrik.\" I said moving closer to him. \"Are you ok?\" \n\n He moved heavily to a dog bed. He laid down and sighed. \n\n \"Terrik.\" I nuzzled him. \n\n He looked up at me. \"I'm old. My time is near. Mr. has known a long time. Mrs. almost as long. They are kind people. I knew they were getting you. They deserve happiness.\" \n\n I looked at him not comprehending. \n\n \"I'm going to die. This family is the best thing that has happened to me. They will treat you well.\" Terrik closed his eyes. \"Treat them well please.\" \n\n \"I will.\" I whispered as the front door opened. I moved into the kitchen to greet my new family. \n\n",
"I was taken from the cage where i had lived. The flesh creatures had taken me, no regards for my obviously bigger posture and strenght! I was the largest in the entire cage hall! \n\nWhen i was softly placed down onto the tiles, like i was something fragile, I stood eye to eye with the largest monster i had ever seen!\n\nI inmeadiatly unsheated my claws, ready to fight. And then it spoke.\n\n´´ Dont fret. My name is Maja. I have lived here since i was a pup. Come, i will show you around. ´´\n\nThe canine was 3 years old, and led me around the house. The first room was that of the largest flesh creatures. \n\n´´ Here is where mr and mrs live. They are very kind, and will often feed and pet you. ´´\n\nShe then led me to a room, where i presumed the second largest lives. \n\n´´ This is where junior lives. He is the oldest of all the little ones. Sometimes another human comes into his room and they make weird noises. Im not allowed in. When the misters brother comes, he sneers at junior and his other human. The misses says its because he doesnt understand male humans can love male humans. ´´\n\nThat was weird of the flesh creatures brother. But i presume these ´´ humans ´´ as they are called dont have enough braincells to recognize others can be different from them.\n\nThe third room is that of the humans that loom exactly alike, their gender the only thing differing them. \n\n´´ This is the twins room. They sneak you food and pet you. They also sometimes dress you up. ´´ \n\nI rememberd being jealous of the cats with bandanas in the cage hall. \n\nThe last room the dog led me was a tiny room.\n\n´´ Here lives the tiniest human. She is very fragile, so we cant cuddle with her yet. ´´\n\nI had seen the tiniest human. She had stroked my fur, and i had decided at that moment that i should protect her. \n\nThen the humans came looking for us, and i realized this life was going to be great.",
"Hazel stared at the fuzzy new creature. She didn't like it. Not one bit.\n\nWhat were they thinking? Ugh. That was humans for you-- they never thought things through. It was bad enough that they let that one stranger human approach the door (THE DOOR!!!) every day with those pieces of paper, but now they were bringing in strange animals, too? Unacceptable.\n\nBut they did, and it was Hazel's job to, ha, vet the little thing. This whole place would just fall apart without her. \n\nCautiously, she began to approach the thing, examining it optically. Four legs, pointed ears (was it wild?), a tail (wrapped around itself, not wagging or raised), and two large eyes that stared at Hazel with what was no doubt murderous intent. The cursory, optical examination having been complete, Hazel moved on to the nasal inspection. Sniffing the air around the thing tentatively, she began parsing through the wealth of information. The creature spent most of its time indoors-- in fact, Hazel recognized that scent! Her humans had come home recently carrying that scent. Did they leave specifically to get this creature? Was it a fellow guardian?\n\n*Sniff sniff.* Yes... there was a lot to unpack here. Some of it Hazel recognized-- other dogs, for example-- some of it she didn't. \n\nThe creature rose from its sitting position, stretching out its front paws-- showing off its claws. Make no mistake, this was a **predator.** But then, so was she. Hazel sized the thing up. Could she take it in combat? Those claws could so some nasty damage, if she was any judge, but then, Hazel had a size advantage on it.\n\nWas it friend or foe? Only one way to find out. A more **thorough** nasal examination was necessary. The standard canine inspection. Hazel trotted around to the creature's backside, lowering her nose to--\n\nSuddenly, the creature pounced, snagging Hazel's tail! IT GOT ME! All of the bravado and predatory instincts left in an instance, and Hazel jumped in the air, trying to escape the clearly dangerous and aggressive *thing* her humans had brought home. Why would they do this?! How *could* they?! Did they not even sniff its butt beforehand?! \n\nThe creature pounced again, its paws landing on Hazel's tail, and Hazel darted across the room-- *NO!* This was **her** house and she would not be outdone! She turned around, ready to face the dangerous thing, but it was gone. Disappeared. Hazel, alarmed, looked around the room. Where was it? Did it get under her somehow? She looked. No.\n\nHazel tentatively began to explore the room, thousands of years of instincts settling in as she tried to channel her inner wolf. Yes. The thing clearly knew what it was up against, and had fled. Hazel sniffed the ground, the scent of the thing paving a way to beneath the couch.\n\nAs Hazel lowered her nose to ground level, to get a better idea of where the thing had gone, a furry paw shot out from the darkness and **booped her** right on the nose!\n\nHazel jumped back, but not a full retreat. No, not yet. This wasn't going to be easy. The thing was smart. It played to its strengths.\n\n\"Oh, Sam, look!\" she heard one of the humans cry out. Excellent. They were aware of the situation. They would see Hazel in all her shining glory. \"They're playing!\"\n\n​"
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[WP] You and your crew have blasted through the barrier of our known universe into something new. At first, things seem unclear, but slowly forms start to become more defined. What you're all unaware of, initially, is that it's your imaginations which are creating what you see and experience.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Captains Log, CD 21/11/62\n\nAfter an encounter with a large black hole, our ship tried to escape its gravitational pull by flying away from it at full warp speed, but this was no help. Instead of instantaneous destruction, though, it seems we have been transported into another....dimension So to speak. It is formless, empty and void of any material or substance, except for strange amorphous blobs we see, appearing to be moving. Will report when more information is found, Captain out.\n\n“Dude, how many times have we told you, this isn’t Star Trek, and you don’t have a Captains Log” My friend in the back, Gary said to me, annoyed. “Instead of fooling around, we need to find a way out of this hellhole”\n\nI went back to the observatory, along with Gary, where our other fellow crewmen, Stephen and Rebecca stood. “Hey Dude” Stephen called me. “We’re seeing some weird stuff out their, we can’t explain it” I followed his hand as he pointed to one of the amorphous blobs, which had formed into a life sized clone of Rebecca, in full skimpy swimsuit standing outside of the ship. As we saw it, we stared, dumbfounded.\n\nAs we looked around, many of the forms had taken shape. Various objects and people were created, cars, aircraft, mansions, snakes, spiders, killers, women. “What the hell is going on?!” After I sad that, a large red horned man appeared outside the ship, with a blazing fire around him. “Oh *shit*, where did that come from?” You can imagine what happened next. \n\n“It seems, strangely, that anything we imagine becomes tangible in this universe” Stephen remarked. “So we’re like gods here, we can create anything we want?” Gary asked. “Yes, it seems so”. I closed my eyes and imagined something, to test out this theory, and as expected it worked. A Flying Spaghetti Monster appeared outside. “This is incredible, unlimited power” Gary said as he exited the ship. Instantly, Gary imagined as hard as he could, and slowly but surely, Gary slowly morphed into the form of a large, expansive galaxy. \n\n\nOver the last few days, I’ve been starting to think Gary is becoming mad with power. He has created entire societies only to wipe them out, and has played god on a massive scale. I think e need to confront him about this. He’s killing sentient beings. \n\n\nGary has slowly expanded into a larger and larger region of cosmic space. He’s starting forget that he’s Gary, has started calling himself “God”. This is bad. The rest of the crew are doing the same thing as him, they’ve all gone mad with power. \n\nToday I became a Universe. It feels amazing. I intimately know all about the aspects of this cosmos, I can no longer separate the cosmos and my self. It feels absolutely exhilarating, I have taken to creating miniature civilizations and putting them in all sorts of awful situations. Today, I created a little planet called Earth. I recently just killed of a bunch of giant lizards with an asteroid. Maybe I’ll create an intelligent species, to worship me. Hmm. I thought to myself. What if I am a god?"
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[WP] You, the caretaker of the vessel have been granted emergency access to the crew's memory banks. With the life support failing, its up to you to decide which pods to shut off, permanently.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Admirals, what follows is the print out of the survival log of the IGC Sagan as recorded by Lieutenant Warwoski ship caretaker.\n\n​\n\nCrew Log: Day 557 Third Voyage of IGC Sagan. \n\n​\n\nLieutenant Warwoski reporting log. The IGC Sagan as been on emergency power for 156 days reserves are in the red the ship can no longer support the stasis pods for the entire crew. In accordance with IS-641-20 it is my grim duty to to release 15% of the 700 member crew from duties serving the United Humanities' Navy. Currently non-essential personnel make up a total of 30% of this exploration vessel's population \\[Lieutenant Warwoski sighs heavly\\] and I will be forced to access the stasis pod's memory banks to make an officially recognized choice on who lives and who dies... God help me \\[Lieutenant Warwoski momentary looses control of his emotions sobbing openly for several minutes\\] I... will be leaving the recordings of what I witness in the log for official review, if - when, when rescue comes. Loading memory bank 210 - E-Emily Waterson on log as xenobiologist listed as non essential due to that there were no biological samples taken so far in the voyage. Accessing now.\n\n​\n\n\\[What follows is several flash backs through Ms. Waterson's life. She is a child being comforted by her mother after scraping her knee. Forward several years she is arguing with her mother, context unclear. Both end up in tears. Forward a few more years she is a teenager looking at herself in a full body mirror \\[Lieutenant Warwoski visibly becomes uncomfortable with the intimacy of the memory\\] she is critical of what she sees. Forward even more she is in college being praised by her professor and is delighted by this, he talks her into xenobiology telling her of his tales of adventure on IGC Hubble it is clear this is the moment that brought her here this is the crossroads.\n\n​\n\n\\[Lieutenant Warwoski is in tears\\] T-they never can prepare you for this \\[Lieutenant Warwoski punches in the shut down sequence for pod 210\\] one log down 209 more to go... \\[Lieutenant Warwoski breaks down for 2 hours before continuing\\]\n\nLog continues recording Lieutenant Warwoski reviews 118 more logs in their entirety, becoming more and more distraught. Log number 91 is of particular interest.\n\nLog 638 Lee Nygen: Flight line technician \n\n\\[What follows is flash backs through Mr. Nygen's life. He is a child of about 8 his parents are talking to him they are telling him humans don't belong among the stars. They are reading from Terran's manifesto preaching to him the man should have died with mother Earth. Forward several years. He is training being pushed to his physical limits on a makeshift assault course. Forward more. He is teaching children how to make explosives from standard power cores. As he recites the technical knowledge he preaches that humanity is a sin. That we must die. Forward more. He is in the hall of a space faring vessel. To is left is Ms. Waterson (log 210) and Lieutenant Warwoski the separate at a turn in the hallway Mr. Nygen turns left Ms. Waterson and Lieutenant Warwoski continues forward holding hands they exchange an amicable goodbye. At the end of the hall Mr. Nygen enters the reactor room. There is no engineer present he accesses a control panel and deactivates fail safes and disables the reactors cooling mechanism with passwords he should not have. \n\n​\n\n\\[Lieutenant Warwoski ends the review of the log there physically recoiling from the memory, he is then heading to the stasis pod bays. Lieutenant Warwoski opens pod 638 and proceeds to beat Mr. Nygen to death with bare hands\\] \n\nThe Lieutenant continues his duties after recovering from the exertion in a thinned atmosphere and proceeds to release 105 crew members from service \n\nOf the 700 members of IGC Sagan, none were recovered. Rescue efforts were too late in reaching the exploration vessel before power ran out."
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[WP] You've always been good at being ignored. In school no body ever remembered you where there. People at lunch tables never spoke to you, teachers forgot to check for your attends, you even got cut out from every team picture you were in. Now uou use your gift to become the world's greatest spy.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"My name is Joseph Smith. My parents picked possibly the most common, unremarkable name they could for me. But, I guess the name fit the child, because in school that’s exactly what I was... unremarkable. Everything about me was average. My grades, my height, my face. If you pulled up a stock photo of a Caucasian male, there’s a good chance he resembled me. I went to school with the same kids from Kindergarten through 12th grade, and I doubt a single one of them would remember anything about me now. If you asked me back then if I ever thought I would lead an extraordinary life, my answer would have been a firm no. I thought I would go to college, pursue something like accounting, and spend the rest of my life in a cubicle. I thought I would marry an average woman, have 2.5 average looking children, and live a mediocre, middle class life. Boy, was I wrong. \n\nMy classmates might have not paid me any attention, but the government had been watching me all along. I remember the day I saw that attractive girl with the olive skin and just-crooked-enough-to-be-cute front tooth approaching me in that little coffee shop on 6th Street. She was looking straight at me. It was the first time anyone looked straight at me in my entire life. \n\n“Hello, Joseph. I’m Ramona,” she said, “We have been watching you for a long time, and we would like you to join our organization.”\n\nI thought it was a cult. It had to be a cult, right? Why else would this woman pay any attention to me, and why would anyone be watching me unless they wanted me to drink kool aid? I never would have guessed the government considered my extensive average-ness an asset. \n\n8 years and countless top secret, “only a handful of people have the security clearance to know about it” missions later and I can truthfully say not much has changed outside of my work life. I’m still average Joe when I’m not at work. But at work, I feel anything but average. \n\nRamona has become the love of my life. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would wind up with a girl like Ramona. She’s certainly out of my league in the looks department, and she is probably smarter than me but I will never admit it. I have the ring ready and waiting in a safe at home. I can’t wait to see the look on her face. I am already anticipating her little nose crinkle and crooked smile when she sees the ring. It’s a thin, unimposing silver band set with a pearl I found while on our first mission together in the Java Sea. She didn’t want a diamond, she was explicit about that. This ring is perfect. \n\nMaybe I will propose to her when I get home. But for now, I am on an old, drafty train traveling through Kosovo. Next stop, Ferizaj. \n\nKosovo is a small European country, relatively unnoticed by the rest of the world. But if this country and I have anything in common, then there is much more that lies beneath the surface. And if our information is correct, Kosovo has been quietly gearing up for biological warfare since The Cold War. It’s up to me to gather intel and formulate a plan to neutralize the threat. It sounds intimidating, but after 8 years this type of work has become my bread and butter. I expect I’ll be back home for dinner two days from now. Good thing, too, Ramona makes a delicious beef stew on Thursdays. \n\nI’m fantasizing about beef stew when, “WHACK,” something cold and metal hits the side of my head. I feel the crack of my skull and a warm rush of blood pouring down around my ear. As everything is going black, all I can see is a familiar crooked front tooth..."
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[WP] Onboard a galactic cruise, in the middle of your vacation, something or someone boards the vessel.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"(WP) An Unexpected Visitor in the Galaxy\n\nWe’d been looking forward to an intergalactic cruise on the new space vessel, *The Sun’s Sister,* since we’d first heard about it five years ago. Right then and there, my husband and I began saving, eager for a voyage across the galaxy. It was more for the kids than for us, but I didn’t mind; I’d been looking forward to showing them the world away from our home planet since they were born.\n\nAnd for their part, the kids were excited. They’d always been fascinated by places far beyond our planet: the sparkling night sky, speckled with stars and planets, lush with color and clouds of gas.\n\nI could not blame them for their insatiable hunger for new experiences. Before I’d married, all I’d ever wanted was to go to college somewhere completely new, and different from the arid desert planet on which I’d been born. But then I’d met my husband at the oasis we lived and did business near, and after a whirlwind courtship and marriage ceremony, those dreams were soon forgotten.\n\nRaising my two children, Sirius and Cassiopeia, became my new focus.\n\nI was in the middle of packing for the four of us when Sirius burst into the bedroom, Cassie close on his heels.\n\n“Mom, I’m sick of waiting!” Cassie cried, throwing herself on my bed and nearly upsetting everything I was trying to pack. “We’ve been waiting for years, it feels like! I wanna go on the cruise now!”\n\n“We’ll be embarking tomorrow morning, Cassie,” I laughed, looking down at her. My dear, brave girl. Her hair was so black that in some lights it looked blue, and her bright amber eyes glowed in the dimness. She was dressed in her pajamas, a nightgown covered in stars and planets. Her freckles were thrown in shadow as our home base passed lazily through space, her long lashes fanning down to the tops of her cheeks.\n\nIt was no surprise to me that my children had inherited my wanderlust and hunger for knowledge; I was so proud of them both.\n\nSirius just watched me, his usual quiet self. He ran fingers through brown curls and walked to the window, the lights of the stars reflecting in his bright blue eyes; for a moment, he was like something out of a story, a child god king with bursts of light flaming in his irises.\n\nSomehow, it was both beautiful and frightening all at once.\n\n“We’re really going tomorrow?” Sirius asked softly, turning away from the window to look at me and reach for my hand.\n\n“Bright and early,” I answered, and pulled him to me, up against my side, and he relaxed into me. Cassie hopped off of the bed and snuggled into my other side, sighing.\n\n“I’m so excited, Mommy.” She murmured.\n\n“Me too, baby.”\n\n\\*\\*\n\nThe next morning came, and we had to leave for the International Space Port before the sun had even begun to rise. Both of the kids were cranky, and I could hardly blame them. Even with a coffee the size of my head, I was barely awake. I was thankful that my husband, Evan, had volunteered to make the three-and-a-half-hour drive.\n\nBy the time we got there, the kids were asleep, and we each carried one of the kids, plus our luggage, waiting for our gate to be called.\n\nI could see gigantic space ships, bigger even than the largest, most expensive Earth yacht, out of the glass windows.\n\nThe kids were still asleep, and Evan went to go get us all food; I entertained myself by people watching.\n\nI noticed a figure in a dark cloak, though it sparkled faintly, as if the stars themselves were knitted into the material. From behind, I could not tell if it was extraterrestrial, human, male or female. But whoever they were, they were waiting at our gate. Something about them made me uneasy; I wasn’t sure why.\n\nEvan returned with a bag of food, and I started to wake the kids; we had maybe an hour before we set out on *The Sun Sister’s* maiden voyage.\n\nI drained the last of my coffee and quickly ate, nerves beginning to jangle.\n\nI’d never been on a cruise, or even a ship, not even on Earth.\n\nWhy, of all times, did I have to be nervous now?\n\n\\*\\*\n\nWe began to board the ship, and the figure in the sparkling cloak stepped onto the vessel in front of us. They gazed back at us over their shoulder, and I could’ve sworn a seen a bright, sharp-teethed smile before I got the nerve to look away.\n\n\\*\\*",
" “And your first name?”\n\n“John.”\n\n“John.” The clerk reiterated under his breath. A big cheery smile was suddenly plastered across his face and he proclaimed “Welcome aboard the Sanctity!” He then promptly sat back down and waved me on through the line, face set in stone once more.\n\nAnd there I was. My first ever real vacation. And my girlfriend wasn’t here. Of course. I’d gotten plans months in advance, talked about this vacation for what felt like years. Yet, somehow, something “just came up.”\n\nMan I wish I’d been the son of some super business man who could afford to send his daughter on countless galactic cruises before she’d ever worked a day. Instead I was just an intern at an artificial intelligence company. \n\nThe crowd crushed forward. I’d planned ahead however, I’d checked every bag, and didn’t even carry my communicator on the shuttle with me. As we’d gone through security, I sat my sandals in the scanner, and the guard had just said “Is that it?”\n\nI had to hurry, there was a lecture on space faring robotics in the observation deck that started just as the Sanctity took off. \n\nThe first week was heaven. Bountiful alcohol, plentiful food, really aggressive prostitutes. Everything about this cruise was LOUD. And it was great. I went to concerts, swam in a virtual reality swimming pool, pretended to be Alfred Hitchcock’s great-great-grandson. \n\n“Anyway, I believe that some of these capabilities, when conferred to an artificial brain, could allow us to give AI direct control of each other. A network of artificial brains, all controlling our globe.”\n\nRight then, I figured something out. I’d been working on a glitch in an AI for weeks back on earth. It just seemed totally incapable of communication.\n\nAnd, right as I figured that out, alarms and sirens began ringing out. A red, emergency haze shrouded the cruiser.\n\n“Passengers, this is Commander Ahab. Something has boarded us. Please return to your suites and lock the doors.”\n\nI waited, anticipating more information, but it never came. After a few moments, Ahab’s voice repeated the exact same line again. Already automated.\n\nI started making my way to my room, as calmly as I could. Everyone else seemed to be in a panicked state, fleeing every which way. \n\nThe panicked stampede worked well enough, that after a few minutes, I was alone. It wasn’t quiet, but it was definitely quieter.\n\nI actually slowed my pace. The ship was much more peaceful without the passengers.\n\nBOOOM\n\nAn explosion knocked me from my feet. A nearby bulk head ripped outward, sending hot shrapnel cutting across my skin, and far enough to ping off the far glass wall.\n\nA humanoid figure stepped from the new portal.\n\nI got back to my feet, this must be the thing that boarded, and I planned on facing it standing.\n\nIt looked like a naked body builder. Tall, strong, muscles rippling. Blood streaked from its face, revealing a shiny skull. A thick, almost incomprehensible voice resonated from the figure.\n\n“John Connor?”\n\nI hesitated, “You’ve found him, what do you want?”\n\nThe being raised its right hand, an old fashioned sawn-off shotgun held firmly, pointed straight at my face.\n\nBOOOM"
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[WP] You're the strongest being in the universe, the gods can't even stop you. But because of this power you have been rather bored in life as you have destroyed all the major evil in the universe so you start fighting small crime. But when you go to stop a bank heist the robber catches your punch.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Everyone knows me. Everyone knows my story. I’m the greatest superhero in the history of the universe. I’m the most powerful living organism in the entire history of time and space. I’ve been called many things, but for some reason the name “Omega Hero” stuck. Wouldn’t be my first choice for a superhero name, but for some reason society kind of settled on that and that’s what I’m called now. Figured I should lean into it and get a costume with a big “O” on the chest, seemed like a good idea for marketing and branding purposes. \n\nI was born in 1983 in an Omaha hospital under the name “Nathaniel Steven Tolliver.” No one, myself included, understands how exactly I got my powers. After countless hours of studies, reports, research, TV specials and documentaries about me, the prevailing theory is that the power of a dying star somehow hit the Earth at the exact same time I was born, somehow imbuing me with my immense powers. Or maybe that’s just a crackpot theory, I don’t know. \n\nAll I know is that ever since I was a kid, I have had special, other-worldly gifts. I’m completely invincible, invulnerable, and untouchable. I could get hit by a freight train running at the speed of sound and it would shatter upon impact, leaving me completely untouched (and, just to be clear, I know that one for a fact because it’s actually happened – nice try, “Dr. Velocity.”) I have super speed, I can fly, I can survive in space, I can literally survive anything. \n\nI have taken down not only every possible supervillain threat on this earth, but everything beyond that. I have taken on alien warlords, literal demons, and even gods and I have defeated them all and been left unscathed. And yes, to be clear, I did say gods. Turns out that the Greeks were right the whole time and Zeus, Apollo, Poseidon, Hades and all the rest of those guys were actually real and had existed the whole time. Who knew? They decided to show themselves again in 2008 and declare war on humans. I killed them all within 49 hours (and yes, I said 49…I wish I could have made it 48 since that’s a cleaner number, two days and all, and I killed most of the major ones quickly but fucking Hermes kept being annoying and hiding from me and zipping across the solar system, I wasn’t able to kill him until the 48:19:03 mark. So annoying.)\n\nAnyway, it’s 2019 now. I’ve taken down every major threat from every possible world. The extraterrestrial and extradimensional threats are all aware of my presence and don’t dare touch Earth now. So now I just kind of spend my days hovering above Earth listening to police radio calls and helping stop mundane threats and criminal activity where I can. \n\nI see a police radio call about a bank robbery in El Paso, Texas. Alright, fine, guess I’ll intervene on this one.\n\nI fly down to the scene of the crime. I arrive at the bank and walk in. Three robbers in balaclavas are holding guns and pointing them at the bank tellers as the scared citizens hit the floor. \n\n“Hello, gentlemen,” I say, announcing my presence.\n\n“Oh, shit!” one of them says. The three armed robbers look shellshocked. They probably figured they could get away with their crime without the famed Omega Hero of legend learning about it. Well, too bad. Here I am, ready to stop your petty crime because I have nothing better to do at this point. \nThe three bank robbers turn their guns towards me and start firing. The bullets bounce off me, as they always do. Have to admire their commitment, at least. I can’t even possibly comprehend what they’re thinking. Why the hell do they think their bullets would work on me? What are they thinking? “Hey, here’s the superhero who single handedly took down Xaldragg the Conqueror (who was trying to enslave all of humanity to work in the Caldrassian Salt Mines, by the way – I don’t think I get enough credit for that), let’s shoot him with our regular human bullets and hope it works.” Pathetic. \n\nI easily incapacitate the other two robbers by tossing them into the wall before focusing my attention towards their leader. \n\n“Well, well, well. Looks like it’s not your lucky day. You thought you could rob this bank and the almighty Omega Hero wouldn’t hear about it or stop you?” I posited with an amused smile on my face.\n\nThe head robber, mask hidden behind his balaclava, looked scared for a minute. He paced back and forth before finding some sort of resolve within himself and looking at me with intent. It seemed he found some sense of purpose. \n\nTime for the fun part. I clocked back my right arm, right in front of his face, and suddenly launched it forward for a punch.\n\nThe thief closed his eyes, but instinctively brought up his left hand in front of his face to protect himself from the punch. \n\nAnd he caught it.\n\nWe both sat there in silence for about 20 seconds. The strongest being in the universe (moi) had thrown a punch at this random robber, and he had caught it. Unharmed. My fist sat there, engulfed by his hand.\nSlowly he opened his eyes again and realized what had happened. “Did I….I…..I…I caught it? I….wait, what?”\n\nThe thief took a step back to admire his hands, flipping them back and forth. “I….I thought I was going to die…but….I have….I guess I have powers too….you are Omega Hero, but somehow I….”\n\nA sinister look came across his face. I dropped to my knees and started to beg for mercy. \n“Please, sir…I don’t know what happened,” I said. “I don’t know what it was, I don’t know what kind of power you have, but please, I’ll let you steal this money from the bank robbery, just let me continue to live and do good for the people of Earth.”\n\nThe robber paced back and forth, adrenaline flowing as he looked at me with contempt. He grabbed me by the neck, wound up his fist in a punching motion and put it towards my face. \n\n“Well, guess what, ‘Omega Hero?’ I don’t know why, but it looks like I’m your equal. Your powers don’t work on me, so I must be one of the most powerful beings in the universe.” He started to laugh maniacally.\n\nRenewed with vigor, he suddenly cocked his right first, and punched me in the face as hard as he could. \n\nAs his fist came in contact with my face, every single bone in his right hand shattered. Soon afterwards, he collapsed in agony. \n\nAs he clutched his shattered fist and writhed in pain, I put my left hand up against his torso and gently flicked him with my ring finger. He went flying 20 feet and hit the wall, knocking him unconscious. \n\nAt some point, the random petty criminals across America are going to get together and compare notes and realize that I’ve done the same exact thing the last 33 times I’ve stopped a robbery – I have such complete control over my powers that I am also able to mitigate them and throw a random weak human-level punch on purpose, and have done so just to fuck with their psyche and make them think for a moment that they’re a powerful being who can stop me or something. I’m sorry if that sounds mean, but I’ve saved the universe and the human race like 200 times, can’t you let me have my fun? \n \n",
"I was creation.\n\n​\n\nTo this day I still don't know where I came from. Perhaps I willed myself into existence. It was cold. And Lonely. But mostly cold.\n\n​\n\nAnd so I created all of reality. With but a thought I created everything. Life itself was just a ploy to keep myself occupied. It was a neat distraction, I made some small fleshy humanoid creatures. I even popped in some gods to manage it for me. With endless knowledge and power it was trivial. I was enraptured by my species. \"Hoo-mans\" they were dubbed. For thousands of years I watched them grow, guiding them in all the right ways. The gods were decent company as well.\n\n​\n\nHowever some gods and creations were less \"obedient\". While I was able to un-make everything with but a thought I decided to humor myself, creating an avatar and went upon a variety of adventures. I stopped evil in its tracks time and time again. When everything that was evil was destroyed I created enemies, abominations just to destroy them. I would recreate the world as a fascist dictatorship just to bring it down. I experienced everything to experience. For billions of years I played around. Yet I was still bored.\n\n​\n\nSo recently I have started dealing with more \"minor threats\" it is fun just to stop cocky criminals in their tracks with my infinite strength. I would swoop in and same the damsel and somehow it was still entertaining to me. Today I approached a bank robbery, yet something was different. With my infinite knowledge I already knew what was happening. Some college students were attempting to get money for their \"detective agency\". To purchase a van or something. It didn't matter though.\n\n​\n\nSo I swooped in. There were five of them, one of which was a dog for some reason. POW, BLANG, POOF, SPLATTER. The robbers were immediately taken down. Sure I could unmake them with a though but where's the fun in that? And so only one remained. He stared me, somehow confident in his abilities. Starting to get bored I lunged at him. But then, he caught me! I was startled, pulling back. I immediately lunged back at him, with enough force to vaporize a galaxy. But that man, no that thing just caught me again. He gripped my arm tightly. For the first time in my existence I was scared. His aura flared, who was this creature? \"Like man, you only made me use 1% of my power\" he said before everything began to glow.\n\n​\n\nThe last thought I had, the last realization. I may be strong, I may be creation. But I am nothing to Shaggy."
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[WP] Whenever you lose a piece of your body the piece becomes a living creature. A general rule is that the large the piece the stronger the creature. Toenails usually become small imps that help with chores while when you accidentally lopped off a bit of your finger it became a wolf like protector.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The rain poured in the street, its furious sound deafen everything around and overwhelmed my senses. \n\"You always carry your knife\" I thought to myself, as I remembered the words the elders told us. \n\"This world is filled with magic, but with magic comes power, with power corruption, with corruption evil.\". They continued, \n\"An ancient spell was cast by the old gods, a spell which protects those who are in need, but with their corrupt minds, the gods wanted a sacrifice, \nand only by sacrificing a bit of yourself will you be granted power\".\n\n​\n\nI looked towards my hand, it was bloody. The blood flowed on the brick pavement, flowing in the grooves and cracks of the floor. \nJust a bit after my hand I saw Jack, my guardian wolf, he whined and looked at me with one eye half open, the blood drenched from gut made a big puddle around him. \nI looked with terror as he took his last breath. I waited a moment, but it was indeed his last. \n\n\nSomething inside me broke, my sanity split in two, my anger rising and my hatred boiled from within. \nI kneeled up, grasping a knee with my good hand whilst still holding the long blade. I stood up, barely, I look again at my arm, the wretched thing will never work again.\n\n​\n\n\"Oh, you survived? Quite impressive indeed Drake, I thought the third shot would definitely kill you. You are quite resilient young man, but no more\" The tall dark figured pointed the revolver at my face, and before he could shoot me, I chopped off my arm, just above the elbow. \n\nI grimaced, this time it hurt. \n\n \nThe figure stood astounded at my ghastly act. \"Didn't think I'd cut off my arm, now did you?\" I shouted at him, laughing maniacally through the pain. \nA lightning struck in the distance, for a moment I could see the face of the figure, he had no ears nor nose, and he had a tattoo of some scripture on him.\n\nMy arm started twitching and moving. The blood covered almost all of the skin, the bone twitched and grew, the muscles strained and the skin stretched, and before long I could see a dragon. It's brown metallic scales shone in the moon's light, its eyes a dark red. \"TO ME\" I commanded, and the dragon quickly jumped before me just as the figure emptied it's revolver. \n\n\"You WILL die tonight Drake. The order punishes traitors, and you will be no exception.\" He yelled at me.\n\nI looked over my shield and I saw the figure drinking a small vial. \"You shall be punished traitor\" He said as he took out a long knife.\n\n\"This is one of the finest blades the order has, it is said that it both increases the power of the sacrifice, and makes it easier to do so\", he continued. \nThe blade was ornamented with red and white stones, the colors of the order, and with an inscription.I knew the inscription by heart \"Only the devout shall know justice, only the just shall know power\". The first blade of Animar, the god of life and death, one of eight artifacts of power. \n\n​\n\nThis is my 2nd WP, so any tips and feedback would be much appreciated. \n\n \n\n\n \n\n\n \n",
"I had to stop going to the barber to get my hair cut. I mean... HAD to. The last 2 barbershops were vandalized after midnight before I realized what was happening.\n\nMy life now is carefully grooming myself, and unapologetically burning the detritus. I mean, I have a few hundred little devoted that are very obedient, but enough is enough.\n\nIt's a good thing that, when I reached for the Uber door that was closing, the fingertip that was crimped off fell *outside* the car as it drove off... I don't know what it would have done to that poor woman's car later than night. Thankfully I was able to heal up my pinkie, and Ayaka has proven to be a loyal companion and fierce protector. He's a little creepy to those that meet him, though, so he stays in his kennel most days.\n\nThings got weird, though, the more Ayaka observed my habits. I'd lose some of my devoted to understandable circumstances: they're a bit fragile and don't self repair. So when my devoted would groom me and clean up after the process, and sweep their potential replacements into the fire (sometimes keeping some tidbits of hair or nail clippings out, as instructed, to replace their numbers), Ayaka looked on with interest. I didn't think anything of it, but I should have, in retrospect. Ayaka was loyal, true, but more than that, Ayaka was *smart*.\n\nNow, he looks on as I lie here, bound, pleading with him to stop this at once. I don't know how Ayaka persuaded the devoted to shift their allegiance to him, but they know he is devoted to me entirely, so this must be best for us all. As they finish sawing me in half, we'll all soon learn, if I, \"we\", survive, who will serve, and who will master?\n\nAyak-!"
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[WP]. Timetravel is real and it has been done multiple times. There is a secret organization hunting timetravelers, their method is highly effective and has always been the same: lotteries.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"First story here. Also on mobile, so sorry for formatting. \n\nOutside of the gas station, a constant scratching noise was always there. Mixed in with one or two *clink*s as people dropped their pennies and half dollars. But occasionally, there was a new sound. A camera aperture. Everyone noticed, but thought nothing of it. They thought it was simply a security camera, or something of the sort. But it was not. It was the APSTC (Agency for Protection of the Space Time Continuum). Consistently, and constantly, monitoring every store, gas station, or truck stop that sold lottery tickets. Every time someone scratched off the numbers of a Lucky Leprechaun, or even won a Powerball, the Agency runs a ***thorough*** background check on that person. It was all too common, very strangely so, for people who have time traveled, to enter the lottery. It was also all too common, for these people to be too stupid to try and from a realistic identity. There’s a reason you see 15 “James Johnson”s on the TV when you watch the news. It’s the same one. The APSTC has cameras and officers in every country, on every continent. The APSTC is always watching. ",
"Nightfall was near, and with the setting of the sun had come the fog, flowing soundlessly out of the ocean and over the low beach dunes to blanket the streets and houses of a small Atlantic fishing town in impenetrable gray. Near the edge of the town, an explosion of violet light tore through the gloom, blowing apart the fog and sending wisps of mist twirling through the air in violent eddies. As the mists settled back into place a short, hunched shadow crouched where before there had been nothing.\n\n\n***\n\n\nMark McNeil flinched, then blinked his eyes and stared intently out of the gas station window to the spot where, a moment before, a brilliant flash of violet light had erupted.\n\n“What’s got ya rattled, chief?”\n\nMark stared out the window a second longer before turning to face Ben Telford, the other teenager manning the gas station counter that night.\n\n“I saw a flash out in the fog--like, bright purple, just for a sec. Then it was just gone.”\n\n“Cops?” asked Ben.\n\nMark hesitated, then shook his head. “No, there weren’t any sirens... and it didn’t last long enough.”\n\nBen shrugged and returned to swiping intently at his phone. Mark turned back to the window, squinting his eyes, hoping not to miss another flash if it happened again.\n\nAfter a moment, Ben giggled and tapped Mark’s shoulder. “Found one that’s perfect for you.”\n\nBen held up his phone. A photo was on the screen from whatever dating app he had been swiping through. Mark peered at it, trying to make the subject out. Leather, lots of skin... though no discernible limbs, and... what was that in the lower-right?\n\n“Oh, come on dude, what the hell?”\n\nBen giggled again, turning the phone back around and swiping quickly.\n\n“If we match I’m giving them your number. That’s a promise.”\n\nHe turned his face upwards and crowed, “Big weekend for Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch!”\n\nMark tried to be nonchalant but nevertheless grit his teeth in irritation. Fun and games aside, he knew Ben *would* actually give out his number to random internet strangers.\n\n\nA high-pitched chime rang out through the empty gas station. Mark and Ben looked toward the entrance door just as a woman dressed in black was stepping inside. She was very tall, with high cheekbones and long, wavy black hair that cascaded down to her waist. Ben let out a low whistle under his breath and hastily shuffled Mark out of his way so that he could serve the new customer.\n\nThe woman glanced around the empty interior then strode directly to the boys at the counter and asked, “Women’s room?”\n\nBen smiled overly-cheerily and pointed to the back of the gas station. The woman grunted and strode off with purpose towards the ladies’ washroom. She made a quick motion and a small gold coin sailed back over her shoulder, striking Ben in the forehead before landing on the cashier counter with a small clinking noise.\n\nBen held the coin up quizzically. It was square-shaped and had a brassy hue to it. He shouted out, “Is this some kind of tip?”, but the lady had already entered the restroom.\n\n\nThe door chimed again. A short, portly man dressed in a heavy trench coat squeezed gingerly through the entry. Mark and Ben wrinkled their noses as a pungent scent--not so different from rotting eggs--wafted through the room. Their eyes began to water.\n\n“Christ almighty,” muttered Ben, trying not to choke, “That lady’s not going to stick around once she smells this.” His face was visibly distressed.\n\nThe new customer waddled his way over to the counter and waved his hand directly in front of Ben’s face.\n\n“Lotto supermax!”\n\nBen, wheezing but trying not to seem rude, nodded and turned to fish out a lotto ticket.\n\nBANG! Ben and Mark both started.\n\nThe short man had slammed his hand on the counter. Underneath lay a crinkled one-hundred dollar bill.\n\n“Lotto supermax!”\n\nBen squinted at the bill, then squinted at the short, strange man at the counter. \n\n“Sir, um, that’s way too much--”\n\n“LOTTO, SUPER, MAX!” roared the man, puffing with the exertion.\n\nBen held up his hands in submission. “Right, have it your way.”\n\nAs Ben was dealing with the man, Mark went back to staring out the window, trying not to breathe through his nose and pondering the flash of light he had seen earlier. Two more bright violet flashes exploded in the twilight fog, followed quickly by a third. Then, nothing.\n\nStunned, Mark stared at the light-green afterimages dancing in his vision, then spun and hit Ben on the shoulder.\n\n“Look! Out there! I saw it again, I’m not kidding, three bright purple flashes and it wasn’t the cops--these looked like super-fast fireworks, not sirens!”\n\nIn the middle of pocketing his ticket, the rotund little man at the counter jerked his head up at Mark and then shifted so he was facing the window.\n\n“Flash! You see flash?”\n\nThe man gesticulated wildly, his entire body animated with the motion.\n\nSurprised by the man’s intensity, Mark simply nodded his head.\n\nThe man in front of the counter screamed a high-pitched shriek, then, with wild-eyes, started turning his head every which way, inspecting the room. He stopped as his gaze fell on the washrooms, and then began lurching towards them, knocking a stand of snacks aside in his hurry. He feverishly tried to open the door to the women’s room but, finding it locked, turned around and launched himself into the men’s room instead.\n\nMark turned to Ben and silently mouthed, “What the hell?”\n\nBen shook his head, then shrugged and grabbed a bottle of Febreeze from beneath the counter, spraying it liberally into the rancid air.\n\n\nThe door chimed a third time. Mark and Ben turned to see who had entered but the newcomers were already rushing past the counter. Two were big, seven feet tall or more, while the third had to have been under three feet but was flying--flying!--through the air near the heads of the other two. The trio were dressed all in black. The two big ones had bulky, metallic looking devices strapped to their left arms, while the airborne one seemed to be carrying some kind of transparent canister. The smell of rotten eggs intensified in their wake.\n\nThe pretty woman emerged--finally--from the ladies’ room just as the trio reached the washrooms. She nodded curtly at them, then kicked in the door to the men’s room and dashed in, followed swiftly by the odd men in black. The door to the men’s room slammed shut. Then, there was nothing but silence.\n\n\nThe two teenagers at the counter stared at the back of the store in utter bewilderment. Ben recovered first. He turned to Mark, smirking.\n\n“So... Think it’s a sex thing?”\n\nBefore Mark could even think of a response, multiple loud bangs issued from the men’s room, followed by flashes of violet light bright enough to illuminate the washroom corridor through the cracks in the men’s room door. The explosive sounds continued, with shouting voices joining the mix, and then what sounded like the whine of a vacuum cleaner. The banging stopped, replaced by a piercing, shrill wail that grew louder and louder before cutting off abruptly. Barely even a minute had passed.\n\nThe men’s room door opened. Smoke bellowed forth, swirling and dancing around the four figures dressed in black that emerged and started walking determinedly towards the gas station door.\n\nThe woman lead, followed by the two tall men. The short, flying figure came last. Something pink and red and filled with little white chunks sloshed against the walls of the canister he was holding.\n\nOne of the tall men grunted and pointed at the boys behind the counter, then raised the arm bearing the bulky, metallic contraption. The woman laid her hand on the man’s arm and looked hard at the boys for a time. Finally, she shook her head, reached into her coat, and flicked two more of the brassy square-shaped coins at the boys, hitting each of them in the forehead.\n\n\n\nThen the four black-clad strangers were gone. Outside, the fog flashed violet four times, and was still.\n\nBen and Mark stared out through the window for a short while, before looking down to where the two coins had come to a rattling halt on the counter.\n\nMark picked one up and examined it skeptically.\n\n“Is this supposed to be, like, hush money?”\n\nBen shrugged and bent down to rummage beneath the counter. When he straightened up, he was holding a dingy clipboard, which he frowned at briefly before grinning.\n\n“Dunno, but, here’s some good news: you’ve got washroom cleaning duty tonight.”\n\n***",
"My whole life I have been accused of not thinking things through. \"That isn't true,\" I would always say. \"I think things through, I just do it anyway,\" I would say and laugh. At the time I didn't know just how much I didn't know. But that's not to say I didn't see this going sideways. There were at least a dozen or so plausible ways I saw this ending. I spent more time picturing what could go wrong than what figuring out what I would do if it went right at every stage of the plan. If I'm being honest, I never really thought I would get away with it. I knew I had cheated the numbers and yet somehow no one was more surprised than me when they gave me the big check. More surprised still when they gave me the little check. It was almost a relief when the FBI showed up at my door. That was probably the last thing in the past 10 months that made any sense. I guess I always expected to be in a cell. I just never expected that cell would be a tastefully minimalist, state of the art, bullet-proof glass, honest to god supervillian cube in a secret subterranean complex. The best I can figure, way back in the 50's the government put together a secret agency devoted to organizing lotteries as basically huge honeypots for aliens and time travelers. Which is fucking crazy. The disbelief that I am accused of being an inter-dimensional terrorist is only tempered by the indignation that I paid taxes for decades for *this*? Crazier still, I think I might be their first case.",
"A smile played on Mark's lips. A dazed expression was on his face. The camera's were clicking in his face.\n\nToward the back of the room, two men watched carefully.\n\n\"Is this one of them?\" one said, with dark trimmed hair and a dark suit.\n\n\"Yes\" the other said, who was bald and also wearing a dark suit.\n\nMark left the building and drove away toward his small house. The tracking chip they planted told them where he was.\n\n\"The traveler is heading South\" the black haired one told his partner, looking at a phone. He opened a radio and recorded his findings into it.\n\nA few seconds later, the dot swerved left. \n\n\"Right past our road block\" he said. \"Let's go.\"\n\nThe two men jumped into a car and followed Mark.\n\n\"Right!\" The bald one shouted to the one driving.\n\nThe car swerved right. \"Up ahead.\"\n\nThey pulled into his driveway and took out their guns to advance on the house. \n\nKnocking filled the interior. Mark grabbed his large gun and aimed it at the door. A few seconds later the knocking repeated itself. Then the door was kicked open.\n\nThe two partners rushed in, guns raised. Mark mowed down the bald one, but froze when he saw the agent with dark hair.\n\nHe stammered back, the agent shooting multiple bullets into Mark seconds later.\n\nMark fell to the floor, blood spilling from his mouth and wounds.\n\n\"No. No.\"\n\nThe agent walked over. \"Traveler, you have been terminated.\n\n\"You don't understand\" Mark groaned in pain, letting his last breath out. \"I'm you from the future.\"\n\nThen, both Mark and the agent seized to exist. \n\n\nThanks for reading. Check out r/FortyTwoDogs if you want for more stories by me.\n\n",
"“Dammit!” Agent Jones punched the wall. “Not again.”\n\nAgent Smith didn’t say anything, just patted his young partner on the shoulder. \n\nFifth time now. The fifth time they’d tracked a time traveler attempting to upset the monetary apple cart. \n\nHe had no idea how they’d originally figured it out. Before his time, no matter how many jokes Jones made about his age. But they’d done it. And set up the Agency; one to track and contain time travelers. Who, to a man, always wanted to earn an easy living by winning easy money. \n\nSome by betting on horses or ball games. Not his department, though. Jones and Smith worked the big game. The lottery. \n\nThe first one caught, some meathead from a podunk town, even had a big book of sports betting. All the games, stats and numbers a gambler would need for the next fifty years. And, due to it being a book out of time, it self-corrected when other time travelers attempted to change things. \n\nHis job was to compare the stasis-locked copy they had with the original, see when stuff changed between them, and then hunt down the latest threat. \n\nBut this time... five different big jackpots, in five different states. And each time, it was confirmed that a contemporary had won it. All known lottery pickers. All of which had the winning number in the middle of a bundle of tickets they purchased. \n\nAll of which hadn’t won the damn-fool money a week prior. \n\n“I don’t know,” Jones finally said. “Maybe the Book has just run out of steam? Or someone found a way to fool it?”\n\n“Fool it?” Smith asked. “You even studied ‘bout what they do with ones we catch?” He spat on the ground, and unlocked the car. “They basically turned the whole kit and kaboodle into an egghead research thing. Keep ‘em figuring out how to keep the world spinning and that crap. And a bunch of ‘em look at keeping the Book on track.”\n\n“Soo.. maybe it’s a conspiracy?” Jones opened his door, and Smith slid behind the steering wheel. \n\n“A conspiracy of dunces, mayhaps. Nah, they all think they’re smarter’n us. And each other. In between inventin’ microwaves and computers? They squabble with each other over being the ‘true inventor of time travel’.”\n\nHe started to fumble around his black suit. Just in case, he always tries to switch up which of the multitude of pockets held the keys. Never could be too careful, with time travelers. They were that awful combination of smart and stupid that was dangerous. Leave a pattern, leave in a body bag, was his motto. \n\nOh, right. He’d made Jones carry them this time. Throw things off. Train him up. Plus, made Jones think he might actually get to drive this time. Heh. \n\n“I tried to study about them, but I don’t get what they’re thinking, sometimes.” Jones fumbled around, trying to find the unfamiliar keys. “I mean, why do they always have to go for the big money? I’d be satisfied with just a million bucks or two.” He pulled out the keys, entangled with a piece of scrap paper and some pocket lint, and handed it to Smith.\n\n“I know what you mean, kid. Enough to retire to a cozy cabin, and just live off the interest. Hell, win a few and...” Jones trailed off. “Kid, review those last few lottos again!”\n\n“But we’ve double and triple checked the winners already!”\n\n“Not the big winners. If I’m right, they’re just patsies. Distractions. Nah, look at the second placers. The ones that-“\n\n“Won like a million or so. Of course!” He typed at the tablet in his hands, while Smith put the key in the ignition. “And we’ve got a match. Someone using a name from the same book has taken between one to five million bucks each time. A book that hasn’t been published yet.”\n\n“Dammit, we’ve got a smart one this time. Better let the big brains back at base know.” He plucked the paper stuck his keys, and tossed it back to Jones. “And keep your trash to yourself, kid.”\n\n“Uh, that’s not mine. I only use the tablet, like you told me to. I thought it was yours.” Jones unfolded it, as Smith turned the key. “Huh, a fortune cookie slip. It says ‘Patterns don’t matter when you can time travel’. What’s that mean?”\n\nSmith started to curse, and tried to dive out the door, but the seat belt wouldn’t unbuckle. It wouldn’t have mattered. The fireball that erupted when the engine turned over took out everything in a fifty foot radius. \n\n\n\n",
"*It's go time. My first sting. How can my heart be pumping so fast? I didn't know that was possible!*\n\nDaryl points to my M16, \"You remember how to use that thing?\"\n\nI answer with a nervous chuckle, paired with a nod.\n\nThey drew the MaxMillions last night. One winning ticket. 43.8 million dollars. We dug into the winner. It took us 8 hours. Philip Finnegan had never purchased a lottery ticket before in his life. He bought his ticket just 3 minutes before the numbers were up. He scanned his ticket at 8:01 PM. The numbers were drawn at 8 o'clock sharp. These are just the figures that I know and I'm a grunt of this organization, I don't get to know it all. \n\nThese operations we are running need to be swift. We waste no time in running background checks on all lottery winners. If the winner is a time traveler, they can hide pretty fast if we dawdle. That's why we are parked outside Mr. Finnegan's house at 4:15 AM. If we miss our chance, he could disappear without a trace. It's happened before. \n\n\"Alpha Team, move out. Swing the back and wait for further orders. Over.\"\n\nWe move fast. I'm in Alpha Team, and they're letting me go in first. I'm sweating bullets. Time travelers who go for the lottery tickets are often quite protective of their winnings and it makes my job a dangerous one. I kiss the picture of my wife that I keep in my breast pocket, and slip it back for safe keeping. \n\n*Lord, please protect me this morning. Please let me return home when this is all over.*\n\n\"Go, go, go!\"\n\nAdrenaline takes over even before the battering ram hits the door. I'm inside before the dust settles. My sight is locked on a man standing frightened in the living room, obstructed only by the red dot that ensures my safety. \n\n\"Freeze!\" I yell, surprisingly without a voice crack. My nerves are high. I can see that little red dot wobbling uncontrollably and I'm doing my best to keep it on target.\n\nThe subject raises his hands in response to our rather intrusive presence. He is standing beside his time machine. The damn thing is starting to spin up. He's trying to get out of dodge, I'm sure of it. By this time, he's got a minimum of 4 muzzles staring him down. \n\nMr. Finnegan tries to bolt. He spins around quickly and attempts a swan dive into the time machine. My finger contracts without conscious effort. One shot rings out. Mr. Finnegan's body fizzles out of existence. Gone.\n\n*What the fuck? Did I miss him? Has he gone back to whatever year he came from? This is just perfect. Commander Patterson will have some words for me, and they won't be polite.*\n\n\"Nice job kid, you passed the test.\"\n\n\"What test, Commander,\" I answer through my radio. The other agents are standing around casually and I'm still aiming at where Mr. Finnegan used to be.\n\n\"At ease, Private! This was an exercise. The subject was just a hologram. The most important thing, is that you hit it. If he was real, you wouldn't have let him get away. Welcome to Alpha Team, kid. You're gonna do well.\"",
"\"Congratulations, Billy-bob!\" The extended a hand and shook Billy-bob's as the camera crew tested the lighting. \n\n\"Thanks so much,\" Billy-bob responded, still unsure if this was just a dream. People scurried around him, testing this and that. Some looked at him and smiled, happy for him. Others looked in quite a different way. \n\nThe crew announced their readiness and the well-dressed man directed Billy-bob to the center of the room, in front of a large green backdrop. Off to his right he saw a woman approach holding a massive oversized check with more zeroes than Billy-bob ever imagined possible. \n\nThey took their pictures, more than he'd have liked, and ran through some paperwork with him. A few signatures, some bank information, a half-joking offer to 'take some of that money off your hands'. When it was all said and done, Billy-bob just wanted to go home. \n\nThey said he could keep the giant check. He knew just which wall he was going to put it on. Problem was, it wouldn't fit in the back of his car. He shoved this way and that, even popped the trunk and let it hang out. He decided he'd need to get some cables to hold it down, and headed for the gas station across the way. \n\nAs he exited the store two men in black suits with wide, dark sunglasses--on a cloudy day--stopped him. \n\n\"Billy-bob Joeseph?\" one of them asked. \n\n\"Yessir, that's me. What can I do for you fine folk?\" \n\n\"Come with us, please.\" the other one spoke. \n\nBilly-bob glanced over their shoulder and noticed a tow truck backing up to his car. He'd only been in the store a few minutes--why on earth had they called a tow already?\n\n\"Excuse me, sirs, seems I've got to take care of somethin.\" He tried to push past them, but they put their hands to his chest and blocked his way. \n\n\"We really need you to come with us.\"\n\n\"Now, just what's this about? You from the IRS? They said they'd take care of all--\" \n\nOne stepped forward and punched him in the stomach. He dropped his bag to the ground and would have followed it himself if the man didnt hold him up. \n\n\"We know where you're from,\" one of them whispered in his ear. Billy-bob didnt understand. Were they trying to rob him? Why didnt they just come out and say it? \n\nHe felt his feet lift off the ground and realized he was being carried off. In a matter of moments he was thrown into the back seat of a car and the door was slammed shut. He regained his breath and tried the door, finding it locked. The men entered the front seats of the vehicle, a steel fence separating them from him. \n\n\"Where the hell y'all takin me?\" Billy-bob asked, his heart pounding in his chest. \n\n\"To the future, where you belong.\" \n\n---\n\nr/Ford9863",
"*Wind through the grass.* \n\n*A creek babbling in the distance.*\n\n*The crickets sing a lullaby.* \n\nJackson focused on each of the sounds, one at a time, taking special note of each. It was a technique his therapist had suggested he try any time he felt himself starting to panic. \n\nHe was especially grateful for the crickets. Their song existed only in digital form in his time, a common ingredient in background noise machines, but these were *real.* The critters came each night, like they'd made a promise to keep him and Gracie company when the sun went down. They always helped his little sister fall asleep, and they did the most to drown out the way she cried softly in her dreams most of the time. \n\nThey'd been sleeping in the treehouse he'd found in the woods since their Dad disappeared. That had been almost a week ago, and a slow fear had begun to take root in Jackson's heart ever since. *What if Dad is abandoning us? What if when he said \"This is gonna be the start of a new life\", he meant that he wanted to be rid of them too. They only reminded him of their mom anyway, he never smiled anymore when he spoke to them. Would he do that? Could he really leave us?* \n\nThis place was very different than where they’d come from. Well, it was the same place, he supposed, but *different.* \n\nEverything was greener, cleaner, shinier. But, of course, they had nothing here. They'd been forced to fish for scraps out of the trash. But Dad had said, he'd *promised,* that everything would change when he bought that ticket. He just....*he never came back....*\n\nAn alien sound, out of rhythm with the chorus provided by the woods, startled Jackson to attention. It was too orderly to be produced by nature. *clomp, clamp, clomp.* Footsteps. \n\n\"Gracie, wake up,\" he whispered. \n\nShe mumbled something incomprehensible. \n\nHe went over and put a hand over her mouth, her eyes shot open.\n\n \"Shhh,\" he said, finger to his mouth. \n\nShe nodded and he took his hand away, \"What's happening,\" she mouthed. \n\nHe pointed to his ear, and she closed her to eyes to listen. They shot back open, \"Dad?\" she mouthed, her lips curling into a smile. \n\nJackson shrugged, \"Wait here.\" \n\nHe made his way to the ladder and went down, slow and careful. He paused, wincing, hoping the crickets covered the soft creaking of the wood. His feet touched the ground a moment later. \n\nHe darted to a bush and waited. Jackson could hear the footsteps getting closer, but it was hard to pinpoint their location. Then he spotted a small light bobbing up and down just North of him. *Flashlight.* \n\nThere were voices too, but very faint. He had to strain to make out what they were saying. \n\n\"All the same, I'm telling you,\" one said in a rough voice. \n\nHe couldn't make out the reply.\n\n\"No, that's not it,” the rough one boomed, “You don't get it. This is the absolute *bottom* of the barrel, K. The dregs of humanity’s timeline. They're criminals, failures, addicts, and beggars, coming back to our time to steal resources away from those that are *supposed* to be here.\"\n\nAs they got closer, Jackson could make out what the more soft spoken voice was saying. \"I just think we could be a little more understanding. How much can *one* guy and his kids really drain from-.\"\n\n\"You miss the whole point. Don’t be naive, it’s more than this *one* case. This is OUR time, not their’s. Why can't they stay where God put 'em? I say we let these rats out here starve.\"\n\nThe footsteps stopped. They were right on top of the bush where Jackson was hiding. He held his breath. \n\n\"They're *kids,* Q.\"\n\nThe other made an exasperated sound, then started walking again. \"I know, I know. Let's just get to finding them. Their Father said he thought they might be out around here.\"\n\n\"You go on ahead, I'll search over to the right.\"\n\n\"Whatever.\" \n\nOne set of the footsteps faded as it got further away. Jackson felt like his lungs were about to burst. \n\nThe bush rustled, and a man's face appeared, illuminated dimly by the moonlight. He wore horn rimmed glasses, had a strong chin, and bushy eyebrows. Jackson might've screamed if the man's face hadn't had the strangest, most reassuring, aura of calmness. \n\n\"You OK,\" he whispered.\n\nJackson was too stunned to answer. \n\n\"You Hungry?\"\n\nHe nodded instinctively. Thinking about it, he felt his stomach rumble. He *was* hungry. \n\nThe man smiled and reached into the inside pocket of his fine black suit jacket. He pulled out a granola bar and handed it to Jackson. Jackson tore it open and devoured half of it in reflexive, animal like, desperation. But he left the other half. Hard as it was with his stomach hurting as it did, he left it. *Gracie would be hungry too.* \n\nThe man took careful note of Jackson's reactions, his eyes settling on the half of granola bar the boy was deliberately restraining himself from eating. He reached into his pocket and pulled out another, \"Are you alone?\"\n\nJackson froze. \n\n\"It's okay, I'm a friend of you Dad's. He asked me to find you. I can bring you to him.\"\n\n\"....*Dad*?\"\n\nThe man smiled, \"That's right. He's very worried about you. Now, are you alone? I'd like to get you away from here before my....*partner....*comes back.\"\n\nJackson turned everything he knew about the man, admittedly very little, over in his head. *Can I trust him? Will he hurt us?* He felt responsible for keeping Gracie safe now, she was too young, too little to have to deal with all that she had. \n\nHe found that he had unconsciously began to look toward the treehouse where his sister hid. The man in the suit followed his gaze, looking up to the treehouse without saying a word. Then he turned back to Jackson. He put his hands on the boys shoulders. \"You've done everything a brother should, and you've done it well. You found a shelter, kept yourselves safe and hidden, out of harm's way. But now you don't have to bear the weight of that responsibility any longer. I'll take you back to your father, you have my word.\"\n\nJackson felt a heaviness lift from his chest that he hadn't known was there. Before he knew it, tears were streaming down his face. He closed his eyes. \n\n*I hear the wind blowing away some leaves.* \n\n*I hear the creek bubbling.* \n\n*And the crickets, I hear the crickets' song.*\n\n​\n\n\\~\n\n​\n\nr/CharlestonChews \n\n\n​"
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[WP] After researching ancient tomes for years you have finally managed to contact the devil himself. As you try to trade your soul to him the devil calmly declines your offer and explains that the rise of population caused astronomic inflation in souls market.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"I'm sorry, I regret to inform you your soul is of no value,\" said Satan.\n\n\"Well, what's it worth?\" I asked.\n\n\"About fifty cents. Or a cigarette in hell. People quite like cigarettes there,\" said Satan.\n\n\"But I really need a favor,\" I said.\n\n\"You have to understand, son, there is a helluva lot of souls on the market. That makes then common as lies from a politician.\"\n\n\"Can I do some type of work for you? Something to provide value?\"\n\n\"We have positions of evil open. We could use another Reaper.\"\n\nI nodded. \"I'm good at retrieving things. I was a great wide receiver in college.\"\n\nSatan nodded back. \"We shall see, son.\"\n\nWith that, I was transformed into a skeleton. A cloak materialized atop my bones, and I was very, very stiff. When I walked, I felt a heavy shock in my tibias. \n\nMy first day of work was to retrieve suicide victims. It was considered a less glamorous job, as they didn't really deserve the death. The juicy stuff like murders and genocides were reserved for the Reapers that had been with the organization for a while.\n\nMy first victim was a hanger. He had been completely decimated financially. Lost his life savings, his possessions, everything in a nasty legal suit. Maybe he shouldn't have embezzled money. Maybe he shouldn't have done a lot of things.\n\nHe was hanging in the kitchen, from a ceiling fan. His legs dangled, with one shoe on his foot, and one flopped on the floor like an article of trash.\n\nI turned the ceiling fan on to give myself some air. Then the guy came crashing down to the floor. I figured it was OK, since he was already out.\n\nThen the guy rustled on the floor. He was not actually dead. He looked up at me incredulously, grasping his rosy neck marks.\n\n\"Who... who are you?\" he asked.\n\nI was not sure who I was supposed to say I was. This was my first job. I just handed him his shoe and walked out the door. My skeletal stallion was awaiting me outside.\n\nI patted my stallion on the forehead. It shifted its skull around, and spit fire out of its mouth. It reared up on its hind legs, and gave a bellowing scream.\n\nI hopped onto the saddle, kicking its exposed ribs. We took off into the sky, flying as fast as the stallion would take me.\n\nI flew over the land, waiting for the stallion to take me to my next job. It happened five minutes later. An airplane flew right into us, grazing my scythe. The scythe ripped right through the wing of the plane, sending it into a death spiral.\n\nI raced down to follow the doomed plane. It crashed into water, a deep emerald lake, full of frogs and small fish. The fuselage sunk deep and fast. People tried to escape, but were sucked under too fast.\n\nIt was my time to shine. I dipped under and began to look for non-survivors. \n\nJust then another Reaper showed up. We were both floating underwater, staring at each other.\n\n\"This isn't your jurisdiction,\" the other Reaper said to me. His eyes glowed green through the mucky water. \n\nThe plane continued to sink farther down as we discussed the intricacies of Death-dealing.\n\n\"I caused this mess, I need to fix it,\" I said.\n\nWe both sunk with the fuselage, arguing about whose job it was to recover the dead passengers. He told me to return to Satan for further instructions.\n\nI realized this was my time to shine. It was my plane, nobody was taking it from me. I raced to the bottom of the lake bed, and floated into the fuselage. \n\nDozens of people floated in the plane, lifeless, still. I felt a cold shiver in my lifeless bones. I wondered what I'd become. Why I would do a deal with the Devil in the first place.\n\nI swam into the fuselage and grabbed a child who was listing by a seat. She clutched a teddy bear in her hand. \n\nI touched my skeletal hand to her livid cheek. As I touched her, a spark went into her eyelids, and she awoke. She started to violently convulse and shake. She looked like a raging wild animal. \n\nI grasped her in my arms and swam her to the surface. I could see the other Reaper glancing up at me from the fuselage. I didn't care. I just wanted to save the little girl.\n\nWhen we got to the surface, the girl began to cough. Phlegm shot out of her nose and onto my skull. My cloak was waterlogged. \n\nI swam her to shore, patting her on the head. She smiled up at me. Which was strange because I must have looked like a demon.\n\nBut when I looked at my hands, they were covered in skin. I was a human again!\n\nWhen I looked out at the lake, I saw the souls rising up and flowing to heaven and hell. Wherever they belonged, they went.\n\nI asked the sky what was happening. I wanted an answer from God, or Satan. Why I was here, what the truth was.\n\nI heard Satan in my ear. He spoke in a whisper:\n\n\"You have passed the test. You chose an innocent over yourself. The deal is done. You have done it. Your wish is my command.\"\n\nI decided I needed no deal. I had saved an innocent. And that was what I wanted in the first place:\n\n*A reason to live.*"
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[WP]You're a billionaire and the world's greatest hacker. But instead of stealing people's information, you do helpful things like pay off their student loans with your wealth
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Pt1:\n\nI obtained my wealth through illegitimately legitimate ways. How does that make sense might you ask? I'm the worlds greatest hacker. \n\nEver since I was a child I had a knack for computers. My dad, an engineer at IBM, was rarely home, but the technology he'd work on would be. From my earliest memory I had something technological in my hand, whether it be circuit boards or capacitors, ports or cables, ram cards or hard drives.\n\nOther kids had different shaped blocks that would fit into the corresponding holes, square into square, circle into circle, triangle into triangle. I was fitting USBs into USB ports, DVI into DVI, and matching the colors of the microphone and audio ports up with eachother, even though they'd fit into eachother regardless. It's all colors, shapes, and symbols. Put everything in the right order, match them up, and you make a secure connection, resulting in a beneficial outcome.\n\nWhen other kids were learning their native language, I was learning programming language. I had been a progidy for so long, I couldnt relate to anyone. When I was 8 years old though that changed. My mother, who was an incredible woman, died of cancer. \n\nShe was an intelligent woman, but with only a middle school education. That's the problem with the countryside. Education isn't emphasized and jobs that will put food on the table take priority. My father met her when visiting his hick cousins, and his rental car broke down on a back country road. Here she was, riding down the road on a tractor, and stops to help fix the engine. It was a redneck fix, she admitted, but it got him to a mechanics 10 miles away to be fixed properly. A highly educated top IBM engineer and a beautiful yet scrappy country girl. No one could've predicted they'd hit it off. They had though, and after a few years of married life they had me. Unfortunately her years of farming next to the Monsanto owned farms and factories, and drinking the contaminated well water and eating pesticide laden food, gave her a particularly violent form of cancer. If she hadn't been taken out of school to work the land she might have been treatable, but my grandfather and uncles all were dead within the next few years as well.\n\nI rejected technology for a few years after that, and my dad spent more time with me. Wed hike and canoe in the area my mom grew up around, with my aunts and uncles on both sides of the family, the ones that survived at least. The water and land had been somewhat rehabilitated because of the class action lawsuit resulting from all the cancer deaths, but the survivors of the region were all rather haggard and tired looking.\n\nI was in my teens when my school had a software crash that erased all the students grades. I had straight A's, but my one teacher insisted I didnt. So I spent 5 minutes on the IT guys computer, having broken in at lunch time, and restored everything. Strange how it all came back to me.\n\nTowards the end of high school Swiss and Cayman Banks would hire me to test and improve their security systems, as well as technology companies and large real estate developers. And I was paid generously. My country roots from my moms side and humble upbringing gave me a wonderful lack of materialism, so things meant nothing. So without anything worth spending my money on, I invested it, and when it paid out, reinvested it. \n\nThey were just numbers to me, but evidently it brought a level of prestige I didnt account for. Forbes top 100 at the age of 21, and one of the very few on the list who were independently wealthy. Articles would be written about me, about the mysterious and secluded billionaire progidy. I just wanted to be left alone though.\n\nTechnology and Economy, 2 things that with the right input, you get a desired output. Currency exchange rates, rise and falls of stocks; it's all colors, shapes, and symbols. Put everything in the right order, match them up, and you make a secure connection; resulting in a beneficial outcome.\n\nSo with all the money I could ever need, and all the technological prowess I could ever want, I was bored. My house was wired up to the nines with all sorts of gadgets and gizmos, but it was a small nondescript rancher in a north Jersey suburb. And it was here that I existed, a hermit who either lived off the land in my once a month excursions into the catskills, or lived with the technology of my smart home.\n\nI didnt have my mom. I didnt have my uncles or grandfather. I didnt have people, in general. I had paid off my dad's house and enabled him to retire, and he was currently in Africa volunteering to build windmills for small villages to have electricity. He was giving back in the way he knew how, engineering.\n\nI needed to be better. Isolation wasn't good for me, I realized that, but what do I do? I was taking online college courses in high school, and graduated top of my class, but didnt attend the graduation ceremony because crowds overwhelm me. So much input. And most of it, nonsensical. I hadn't had real human interaction since my high school days, so I did something about it.\n\nEvery morning I'd go to a different coffee shop or diner and sit for an hour, people watching. While I filled up my body with caffeine I'd fill up my mind with observations. It's like bird watching, but far more unpredictable. \n\nIt's all colors, shapes, and symbols, but people arent like other things. Even if you put everything in the right order and match things up, you still might not make a secure connection. Interactions that should result in a beneficial outcome often outputs awkward glances and standoffish remarks. I know because I'd test those theories occasionally.\n\nHerd dynamics and mob mentality are easy, that's how stock market predictions work, but individuals are complex. Just when you think you have it figured out, you dont. \n\nTake for instance the baristas at the coffee shop, or the gaunt young woman serving me pancakes at the restaurant. Both are often struggling college kids. Some of the most formally educated people youd ever want to meet, but at a rather humble station in life not of their doing, with debts they'd be paying off for decades.\n\nI'd come to these places so I could determine who to anonymously absolve of their debts. Not just college kids either. Id help older ones with medical debts, struggling single parents working 3 jobs to keep a roof over there kids heads, whoever needed it.\n\nToday I was at a diner. My dad had flown in and was going to meet me here, and then from here he'd stay with me for a few days before he headed back to Africa. I couldnt help thinking about my mom though.\n\nMy moms family struggled, and scraped by to earn a buck, and it killed them. If education was more readily available, and they had less economic hardships, then maybe, just maybe they could've escaped their fate.\n\nIn a way my mom had though. A chance interaction with an IBM engineer on a country road in Pennsylvania resulted in her having true happiness the rest of her life. No amount of planning could result in that outcome. They were in the right place, the right time. It was a random input that had a wonderful output. \n\nEverything had been in the right order, life had matched them up, that chance encounter had made a secure connection, resulting in a beneficial outcome.\n\n*splash*\n\nThe coffee that had landed in my lap was so incredibly hot I jumped up and was fanning my crotch with my iPad. My chair had flown backwards in the process and the table had shaken, I was causing quite the scene.\n\n\"I am so so sorry!\" This young blond waitress with her hair pulled back into a ponytail was standing next to me with a tray of food in her hands, I hadn't even noticed her. \n\nShe quickly set the tray of food she had in her hands down on the table next to me. She must've had it in her hands and was moving to a table when the coffee cup must have slid off of it and onto my crotch.\n\nShe had a handful of napkins in her hands in an instant, and before either of us knew what was happening, she was on her knees in front of me dabbing my pants with them.\n\nSurprisingly she was quite thorough and as the heat and moisture had subsided with each pass of napkins I suddenly realized what was happening.\n\nThe whole diner was staring at us. Overturned chair behind me, me with wet pants, and a waitress on her knees cleaning my crotch like a prize trophy.\n\nYou could hear a pin drop beside the sound of the rubbing napkins, and I'm sure my face was as red with embarrassment as the down arrow of a failing stock.\n\nI look down at her and she looks up and says \"There. It's not perfectly dry, but hopefully most of the coffee is gone.\"\n\nShe was quite beautiful. Strange that I hadn't noticed her before. \n\nShe stands up, and with wet napkins in hands she suddenly realizes what just took place, and her face lights up like a red LED with embarrassment.\n\n\"Oh my word I cant believe I just did that!\" She turns on her heels and runs into the kitchen, having been noticed by the manager, who followed her back there.\n\nI grab the tray she left and hand the food items to the people at the different tables they were supposed to go to. I had heard all the orders and taken note of where they were supposed to go before the coffee had spilled, but hadn't taken note of the waitress that had recieved the orders.\n\nAs I hand out the last order; a broccoli and American cheese omelette with home fries, wheat toast, and a side of fruit to an older lady who had been sitting by herself, I suddenly realize the beautiful blonde waitress was standing next to me.\n\n\"Sir, you didnt have to do that.... I... I am so sorry once again.\" She says.\n\n\"Its quite alright ma'am. I had taken note of all the orders of everyone in the diner, so it was quite easy to match the food and drink to the people who ordered it. The only thing that's missing now is the coffee.\"\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] A retired supervillain just wants to live a quiet, suburban life, but keeps getting hounded to get back into the game by both villains and heroes.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"They're cute, efficient, effective and down right blood thirsty. When will they be ready?\"\n\n\"They won't be. They are a 5th grade, co-ed, soccer team not a team of henchmen. I am retired Meadowlance. We are retired and you know Denise would not appreciate you being here like this.\"\n\n\"Yeah yeah I know but, I need some help. Look I'm not some rookie kid trying to get a break or some new league trying to add a big name. It's me, Meadowlance, we were more than colleges we were\"\n\n\"Yes and you chose to cast that aside when we all found out Denise was pregnant. You have no idea how much it hurt her loosing you. Some days I think she cared more for you than me but she has always leaned a little harder in that direction. The answer is no. I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"It's the engine coupling I think. With Yoshi retired and him and Samantha expecting their 3rd\"\n\n\"Yeah lucky bastard. We only have the one but she is amazing.\"\n\n\"Okay fine. How is the team holding up?\"\n\n\"Undefeated. Four seasons straight. Lost a match last season. Really fired them back up.\"\n\n\"You were always the best trainer, I know.\"\n\n\"Thank you Meadow. I am sorry.\"\n\n\"Sorry to interrupt but I think this might constitute a matter of public safety Samearthak (Sam-er-Thak).\"\n\n\"It's Nathaniel and why the hell are you not watching the goalie?\"\n\nIt's cute seeing Meadow look like she is caught in something. \"Um who is this?\"\n\n\"Meadow meet Crimson Spool. He is a nothing P1 they assigned as kind of my...parole officer. After 2 seasons of him sitting on the bench watching and showing up for every practice I made him get lost or become my assistant coach. He sucks but he is a young pair of extra eyes. Now what the heck were you saying that is so important that you are not behind the goal?\"\n\n\"Well for one we have Ray on the goal so he does not exactly need watching. Two, This is Meadowlance right, THE Meadowlance pilot of the nuclear powered, aerial warmachine \"daisey\"?\"\n\nI hate how much he actually knows some days. \"Yes.\"\n\n\"Then if she is having engine issues that is a matter of public safety. She cannot be leaking radiation everywhere she goes. So, in the interest of public health and safety I would have to recommend you do the good thing and if you know of someone who can sort out the issue I think it would be seen as a gold star added to your record.\"\n\nI just want to watch and coach my daughter's soccer team, that's it. But now I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I hate this. \"Fine go away. Yoshi is retired but others are not. That does not however mean I am giving them up to you. I met all conditions of my rehabilitation and some of them would come after my daughter if I betrayed them. So, go away. Get back to the goal.\"\n\n\"Yes sir...Nathaniel.\"\n\nFuck I am growing to hate that kid. \"Here Meadow, you heard the kid. Get your baby fixed.\"\n\n\"You sure this soccer routine is all you want?\"\n\n\"You know Meadow, I could put in a good word. You could go under house arrest at our place, we have the space. Go straight, get clean...see if old relationships can be fixed.\"\n\n\"What and go all Suzzie home maker, join the PTA, have to\"\n\n\"PTA would mean popping out some rug rats. Denise might be down for that, we do only have the one.\"\n\n\"What! Thanks for the link, I, need to get things done.\"\n\n\"Whatever you say Meadow, take care.\" Only way to really get her out of here, that fear of hers of being tied down and no longer free. Glad it was just Meadow this time and not some hot head young upstart. None of them realize just how good this kind of life can be.\n\n\"COME ON COME ON, PRESS THE D! OPEN UP THE RIGHT, OPEN UP THE RIGHT! USE THE REF AS A BARRIER A BARRIER! PASS FOR THE SHOT PASS FOR THE SHOT!\"",
"\"Go away... You'll scare the kids.\" Another hopped up kid with a mask, energy LEDs lighting up on his skin, like a dark carnival, the look of the muscles and the veins popping giving him a comical look. \n\nRetirement wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, as the kid charged, my daughter's shriek loud enough to make my ears ring, the power she put into it shattering every window in the area. This was going to come out of the food budget... No wonder that most Legits usually did not get what they wanted due to the cost of damage. \"You're a fucking monster! I will kill you for what you did to my father!\" \n\nWhether that counted as a war cry or not, I didn't know. The comfortable overalls shredded as a burst of power surged through the air, hitting me in the chest. A sigh, as I watched my daughter run. *Another time when dad has to be mean...* \n\n\"Imperator, don't do it! You've got such a bright future!\" The voice of Angeldust reached my ears, her diaphenous wings glistening in the air. Hopped up punk boy seemed to take notice, as he screamed something about 'insane druggies', a frown on my face. \n\n\"That's not kind, boy.\" It wasn't like I was able to be hurt from such silly little attacks. It was just a moment where I could relax, a time at the park. Super-powered kids were allowed in this sector of the city, thank the powers to be... it'd be hell if the wife and I had to move. \n\n\"You're a monster!\" I doubted that, sometimes. Conquering the world lost its shine and my wife used to be there trying to beat me up... So there was a lot to be said about my monstrousness. \n\n\"You're going to apologize to my kid, buddy. Scaring my girl's not going to be good.\" There was something satisfying about the little punk's next attack, caught in an instant. I actually felt an itch there, for a moment. \n\n\"I'll handle it, Imperator! You could be a force for good.\" Angeldust said, as she bore her powder-gun, loading it up. \n\n\"I will kill your daughter, but not after I've-\" Funny thing about mouths... they often did not really work when you'd stuck your fingers in their mouth and ripped their lower jaw off. \n\n\"Listen, PUNK. I've had my time in the world stage.\" There was screaming, blood and gore, a tongue flopping, my anger starting to mount. Angeldust was saying something, but this little son of a bitch had just decided to make things 'personal'. The jaw I tossed to the side, where it hit someone in the nogging. Not quite something to be interested in, as I 'smacked' the kid's shoulder. The broken bones would be a good reminder... and prosthetic jaws could be made. \n\n\"I've been good for years. I've paid my taxes, worked my job... They even stopped coming around to try and break my relationship up. My wife's got a GREAT skill at baking apple pies. My daughter is best in her class.\" My voice was turning into Villain monologue territory, as the little punk seemed to be so small, my form growing. \n\n\"Little punks like you who think that they can just stroll in here, create a mess and threaten a man's daughter... Well, they're shit out of luck.\" My little angel's voice was soft, as I heard her say 'Daddy said a naughty word!', shaking my head. \n\n\"Take him away, before he's made into a stain.\" I am Imperator... or Julius Kaiser, age 44. I've made my life in this place and now, I'll have to move again. \n\nThose idiots try to find me and either 'put me down for justice' or 'try to team up'. Don't they know that I've still got years in the workforce?\n\nNow I'll have to go and make sure that I find another job... Great. Maybe something with a car shop? I didn't get the mechanical degree for enhanced mechanics for nothing, so I guess that switching from a handyman to a mechanic isn't out of the question.\n\nStupid idiots... Always taking an issue to a now honest man's life.\n\nWhen I said I was done, I was *done*.\n\nNow, let's find my little angel and go for ice-cream. A few extra scoops, just to make sure that she isn't going to be having any nightmares about the spooky and scary men that try to hurt her daddy.",
"“Sir,” his voice was full of suffering, “please leave my property.”\n\n“Or else what?” came the brash reply. “What are you going to do about it?” The speaker was as boldly dressed as the statement. The man wore form fitting tights colored brightest red. He stood with legs spread and chest forward. His face was marred with what he imagined to be a dashing smile that instead made him look constipated. \n\n“I will call the police and have you removed from trespassing.” The firmer was every bit the opposite of the red garbed man. Long black hair fell over pale skin, brown eyes looked pained and his plain grey clothes leached color instead of proclaim it. \n\n“The mighty Nocturne call the police?” The man in red laughed mockingly. “Someone who was considered one of the dangerous super villains call the police? That’s pathetic!” He spat onto the lawn, a gobbet of fire that charred the grass. \n\nNocturne’s eyes narrowed. “I am retired and no longer a super villain. I paid my dues and as a citizen I can and will call the police. You are not above the law whoever you are.”\n\nThe man staggered as if physically struck. “You don’t know who I am?!”\n\n“No. Nor do I care.”\n\n“I’m FlareStar! Master of fire and the rising star of the super heroes!”\n\n“Still not caring.”\n\nFlareStar glowered. “Maybe I should make you care. Then you can fight like a man and I can get vengeance.”\n\nAnother sigh with a hint of pain left Nocturne’s lips. “Young man, you have no idea what you are talking about and there is no vengeance to be had. Justice....was found and done. So please just let me live in peace.”\n\nThe man in red took a step, a booted foot sank into the grass and waves of heat emanated from him. “Justice? You being alive means justice was not done. I’ll kill you and-“ \n\nFlareStar took a step back. Nocturne has gone still but brown eyes were now purple and black. Wisps of ether started to form around him, his pale skin turning dark.\n\n“You know nothing.” Nocturne’s voice became deep. It echoed weirdly upon itself, as if several voices said the same words but slightly out of sync. “I am still allowed to use my powers for self defense and I would have you incapacitated for easier retrieval by the police. Last warning.”\n\nFlareStar flinched and stumbled back. “This isn’t over!” he stammered. “I’ll be back! I’ll prove you aren’t reformed!” His form burst into flame and he flew into the sky hurling curses as he left. \n\nNocturne’s eyes remained inky purple until the young hero had left. He stared for long moments at the trail of smoke until the wind began to blow it away. “Do not think I did not notice you,” he said. His head turned to stare at line of bushes that served as a fence. \n\nThe air shimmered and seemed to peel away, revealing a feral looking woman. Slitted pupils gazed levelly back and the woman shrugged. “Just doing my job. Here as back up if you need it.”\n\n“I do not, as I have said many times before. This does not mean I am in your or her debt either.” His eyes faded back to brown, plain and pained. “I want to be left alone.”\n\n“So idiots like that can come and threaten you? One day they’ll all come for you and you’ll need help. The heroes won’t admit one of theirs went crazy. And you did what you had to or else-“\n\n“I know. I was there.” Nocturne looked at the woman and she paused at his expression. She had seen pictures and videos of him before, back in the glory times. She was prepared for anger, for disappointment, for glee. She was not prepared for this face. It made her hurt on the inside and she felt uncomfortable. \n\n“Well, fine. You can’t keep me from watching but I’ll pass the message.” She waved and her form slowly faded again until the barest shine of her eyes was all that was left before they too disappeared. \n\nNocturne continued to watch the spot where she was for long moments. He felt nothing there and knew she had truly gone. Birdsong slowly returned, hesitant but growing stronger. He walked slowly to the burned patch of grass, and slowly whispered. The words turned and tumbled, the grass heard and slowly but surely they grew back until the patch was smooth and full once more. \n\nHe turned to leave but a new sound made him stop. A large yellow bus came down the street, filled with loud children. It stopped at the corner and released a crowd of chatter and laughter. One form disengaged from the others and upon seeing him dashed down the sidewalk. \n\nShe leapt and flew through the air, a remarkable physical achievement for most and he caught her with a grunt and a smile. “Were you waiting for me?” Her cheery voice washed away the pain but her eyes reminded him of another from long ago. As they always did. As they always will. \n\n“It seems like it,” he replied and delighted in her laughter. “I bet your hungry. How did your test go?” He half listened to her excited voice, and watched the bus go by. The children had clustered to the windows, eyes wide and staring. \n\nHe nodded gravely and turned his back to them. Cradling the precious bundle in his arms he walked back into the home and closed the door to the outside. "
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[WP] Superheroes have their powers granted by the Devil, and when they die they become supervillains under his control.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“It is a sad day for us all,” Icejet said over the radio. She been in many dire situations. Faced loss many only saw in nightmares, but she always kept her cool. After a decade of working with Captain Strongarm, she’d become numb to the horrors of crime-fighting. The news had always done well to cover the particular unpleasantness of their work, focusing instead on the people saved and the villains caught.\n\nIcejet was no Strongarm, but she was resilient. That was why the League decided this particular task should fall to her, not that they had any choice. Owlette was busy with her research. Lovesong obviously could no longer handle the PR. The news had to come from one of the League’s heroes, and none of the others had the recognition of its founders.\n\nIt had to be her.\n\n“It is a sad day for us all,” Icejet repeated, stumbling over her statement. The words seemed to rearrange themselves. Reading was never her strong suit. Her lips trembled as she carried to the next line. “Jake.. Jacob Flannygan, known to us all as Captain Strongarm, has passed away.”\n\nIcejet let out a sob. She’d been able to hold back the tears until now, but saying those words cracked the dam. It hadn’t been real until then. Just yesterday, Jake made her breakfast. And now he was gone. ‘Passed away.’ \n\nAll she had left was the claddagh ring he had given her a week ago.\n\n“He was an inspiration to us all. He knew what it meant to be a hero and he died protecting not just the city, but the world. Captain Strongarm was more than just a hero to me. He was my… he was a friend. He will be…” Icejet crumpled the paper. She couldn’t read through frozen tears anyway. “I miss you, Jake.”\n\nThe words echoed through the silent room. The host, the techs, Icejet’s own assistant stared at the crying woman, unsure how to proceed. They had always seen her standing proud by captured villains or confidently from a rooftop. Once in a Santa hat in a snowy musical.\n\nThey never saw her broken.\n\nThe next few months saw a change in Purgatory. Since the rise of the League, the city came a long way from its roots. But Captain Strongarm’s death emboldened the villains. Like rats from the walls, they spread throughout the city, enacting their will.\n\nJake would have been happy to know his humanitarian efforts paid off. The criminals were not the petty thieves of the League’s early days, but the terrorists, crime bosses, and cults of their later years. Without the inspirational force of Captain Strongarm and the peacekeeping skills of Lovesong, the city slipped back into a state fitting its name. More and more heroes rose to the challenge. Perhaps with more support, they could have saved the city.\n\nBut Captain Strongarm was dead. Lovesong lost his voice. Owlette retreated to her library.\n\nAnd Icejet stayed home.\n\nA full year passed before peace was found. The new generation of heroes - Juultrick, Photosynthesis, and Karen - established an order. Less efficient than their predecessors, but keeping crime mostly locked down. Lovesong and Owlette still made appearances, reminding the world that they were still around, even if the papers no longer printed their names.\n\nIcejet stayed home. A frozen bottle of vodka held by an emotionless woman in a robe became a common sight around the League offices. Common enough that the new generation didn’t bother to stop discussing business when she wandered through to the kitchen.\n\n“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Juultrick said with wide eyes. “He was like an animal. Nothing I threw at him could get him to stop. He was psycho, dude. He broke a steel beam with his bare hands. I had to get out of there.”\n\n“What’d he look like?” Karen asked.\n\n“I dunno. He was wearing a mask. White guy with red hair.” Juultrick breathed out the smoke from his vape, twisting it in the air to form a heart wearing a crown. A pair of hands held the heart out. “He had a ring that looked like that.”\n\nFor the first time in a year, Icejet felt… anything. Her heart and mind raced. Dropping the bottle, which shattered frozen vodka on the floor, she ran to the table, sliding to a stop. The three kids gave her a confused look.\n\n“Where?” she demanded, resisting the urge to vomit. Alcohol did not respond well to running, even just a few feet.\n\n“On his finger?”\n\n“No - I…” Icejet sighed. “Where did you see him?”\n\n“He was at that old factory. You know, the one where Captain Strongarm died.”\n\nKaren gently hit him. “Dude.”\n\n“What? Oh, yeah. Sorry.”\n\nIcejet was gone before his apology, racing out the League HQ entrance. She ignored the confused shouts of the League’s staff and visitors, determined to prove her theory. For a normal person, running while drunk would be near impossible. But Icejet was no normal person. She spent years learning how to walk on ice. Running while tipsy would be a-\n\nIcejet tripped. With reactions honed by years of crime fighting, she created a soft bed of snow for her face. Despite how comfortable it was, the swirling storm of emotions and honking car encouraged her to her feet.\n\nThen she saw him.\n\nDriving toward her, Jake Flannygan did his best to remain inconspicuous by lowering the baseball cap on his head. Icejet froze, not literally, as she stared into his eyes. Her stomach wanted to puke. Her heart wanted to be held by those powerful arms once more. Her mind wanted things to make sense.\n\nInstead, she stood in the middle of the road, failing once again to keep the tears out of her eyes. This time, she was overcome with joy and disbelief. She wanted desperately to say something, but her mouth wouldn’t respond. All she could do was stare at her fiancé.\n\nHe offered an awkward wave\n\nIcejet returned the wave.\n\nThen Jake hit her with his car.\n\nEverything happened so quickly, Icejet’s body didn’t register the hit until Jake stepped out of his truck, calmly walking to her. He knelt next to her as she gasped for breath. His eyes offered nothing. Not sadness, fear, or warmth. Nothing.\n\n“Hello, Kyrie,” Jake said. “Long time, no see.”\n\nKyrie coughed blood. The pain that wracked her body was nothing compared to the pain in her heart. Her stomach still wanted to puke. Her mind still wanted things to make sense. Her heart wanted to stop hurting.\n\n“You shouldn’t drink in drive,” Jake said calmly. With one strong kick, he pushed the truck into a nearby tree, further denting the hood. “That’ll do. Remember kids, always wear a seatbelt.”\n\n“Why?” Kyrie asked through a mouthful of blood.\n\n“You signed the contract, Kyrie. With the big man himself. We all did. Things didn’t work out the way he thought with those kids around but they’ll get theirs. Wrath’s here to collect.”\n\nJake gentle placed his hands by her head. “Welcome back to the League for Incapacitating Villainous Enterprises, Kyrie. What a dumb name. See ya later.”\n\nKyrie felt a crack then everything went black.",
"The signal steadily made it's way towards the city, a tiny blip on the radar that was too small to be a jet, but too big to ignore. \n\nStanding at the edge of the city, flanked by an unwanted police force and military was a hero, a brother to the threat speeding closer, and an unwilling enemy.\n\nAs the sun began it's descent into the horizon they saw the dust clouds billowing out from afar, commanders of the paper army shouting orders to get ready for the devastation that was coming. \"I don't care if you leave or not, i've done my part to tell you you're powerless here.\" Joe said to the men standing behind him as he crouched down and then leapt towards the setting sun, and the shadow racing to him beneath it. \n\nThere was no hesitation, he knew as soon as he saw what his brother had come that there would be no discussion, no way to save him but with his end. As they came to a head Joe's eyes tightened in agony as he saw the twisted face of what had once been his best friend. Silver hair and a slit for a mouth covered the once smiling red head the hero had adorned. \n\nAs fist met fist and knee met knee the waves of impact began crushing the earth beneath them, sending waves of force into the world. The tanks standing guard at the edge of the city moved back ever so slightly as sharp winds hit them. \n\n Joe was doing his best to push the demon back further away from the civillians, ignoring the maniacal cackling coming from a voice that shouldn't know how to do that. \n\n\"You won't save anyone today\" said the growling voice as he thrashed his arms widly against the hero's defences. \"Neither him nor the people behind you\". \n\nJoe's eyes widened in fury as he realized who's voice was coming from his friends mouth and crashed his head into the monsters and sending him ten feet into the earth. \n\nThe people standing at the edge of the city stood in awe as they witnessed the hero jump into the crater feet first and out of sight. He stood on the chest of the demon who possessed his friend and grabbed the front of his shirt. \n\n\"Im not thinking about them\", Joe growled back as he pulled the dazed puppet closer to his face. \"I'm not thinking about him either. I'm thinking about you, and im coming after you first\" he said. \n\nThe eyes of the beast widened in shock, too late to let out a roar as Joe pulled his fists back and began to pummel the agent of the beast deeper and deeper into the earth, and taking the ride right on top of him. Satan wouldn't have anymore emissaries to send. Today he would have to fight himself and for once, hell was coming for him. \n\n​"
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[WP] A hero on a quest to save the world is presented with a choice: betray humanity and live a life of luxury, or save the world and be abandoned and unrecognized by the people you saved, living miserably.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Sylvia reached the cold cracked stone gate with worn and ancient inscriptions on it, this was it, the final step for her to prevent the eternal winter. As the princess of Astria, she had been tired of being forced to do nothing for herself, and overheard the captain talking with her father about the Ice Lord creating an orb and was about to seal the earth in an icy fate, the Astrian army was to set out in an hours time to stop him. She decided that this was the only chance she would ever get to prove herself to her father, so she rushed out of her quarters, and stole a suit of armor from the Royal Guards armory, and cut the kingdoms horses free to delay them, so she could get there first.\n\nA frigid breeze emerged from the center mass of it snapping her attention back in place, almost caressing her as if to beckon her to walk in. Through it she spotted the blue swirling portal that would take her to the Ice Lord's Palace. Her red silken cape twirling behind her, Sylvia took a small step, then another through the gate, the earthen ground crunched beneath her feet as the ground became a silvery rigid frost below, leaving an imprint of her steel clad boots behind. Every step closer beckoned her to walk faster into the chilling structure ahead. Reaching the portal, Sylvia took a deep breath, inhaling in every inch of the frozen air, before stepping through.\n\nFirst Sylvia felt like nothing happened, when like a switch being flipped, her stomach turned upside-down, and the earth around her became blurred and broken. She felt like a thousand ice sickles were boring through her skin as everything became colder and colder, before she was launched out the other side of the portal. Sylvia flailed through the air for a few moments before her right shoulder smashed into the side of some hard structure. The loud deafening crunch of her collar bone and shoulder shattering followed by her scream filled the air.\n\nShe staggered to her feet, tearing off the stiffened and dented armor surrounding her body leaving only her scabbard and sword. As she flung the last piece of cracked armor from her body, she turned to see what she had hit, and was taken aback by the sight. She gaped at the structure before her; a massive and elegant palace stood before her, constructed entirely of ice, battlements fastidiously formed hung above her, with a massive drawbridge formed from black ice loomed ahead. An elegant carving of an ice dragon became in focus as she came to. This was it, what she came to do, her people were counting on her to slay the Ice Lord, and stop the eternal winter from occurring, time was running out. Holding her injured shoulder tight, Sylvia bore through the pain and approached the frozen gate of the palace ahead.\n\nAs if it sensed her presence the drawbridge fell with a thundering thud to the terra firma below. The earth ubiquitously darkened around Sylvia; she was running out of time. Embracing the pain she rushed through the inner castle towards the throne room. The cold was almost unbearable, and her broken bones ached in pain, glancing down she noticed the red stained snow that trailed behind her. The sight make her dizzy and nauseates but she needed to keep going, she needed to prove herself.\n\nShe started staggering through the courtyard, when a dozen ice soldiers emerged from the ground armed with ice swords, spears, and bows. Drawing her sword with her left hand, Sylvia let her hurt shoulder drop painfully to her side. The first rushed in for an easy hit, but at the last moment Sylvia dropped low hesitatingly stabbing it through the chest, producing a started grunt from the now slain warrior. Her hand shook, as she had never killed before, but there was no time to let fear take hold. Sliding forward she cut off the heads of two archers before they could react, and turned to face another. Realizing her threat four more attacked her at once. She cut off the legs off one before falling to the ground without it slicing her blade through the frozen face of the soldier, before hitting the stoic earth hard on her broken shoulder causing her to scream out in pain from the injury. Sylvia had no time to recover before one of the warriors attempted to slay her where she lay with its spear. Rolling quickly to the side while holding her breath from the pain, she flung her self up, and with a single slice cut through the surrounding sentries. A group of four stood abroad of her tauntingly. Dashing forward, moving her blade in a frenzy, she made quick work of the shocked troops. Sylvia backed up and exhaled loudly.\n\nThe fight was over and she could finish what she came for. Sylvia wiped the silver blood off her sword before she heard a sharp twing break the silence, and an excruciating pain proceeded to bore through her left calf. Falling to one knee she Sickeningly looked behind her seeing the icy steel of an arrow protruding from her leg. In the corner of her eye she saw the hidden archer. Sylvia cursed under her breath for miscounting the slain soldiers, but with no time to mourn, in one swift motion she pulled her dagger from its holder strapped to her chest, and flung it at the archer killing him instantly. Gathering herself as best she could, Sylvia burst through the throne room gates limping, where the Ice Lord sat waiting in his icy throne.\n\n​",
"We've all been given those scenarios. You know the one.\n\n\"Would you sacrifice Y for X.\"\n\nWe all say the same thing. \n\n\"Yes, I'd do anything to protect X.\", \"Obviously I'd sacrifice Y\", \"Why wouldn't I protect X?\"\n\nYet in the moment, would you do the same?\n\nYou're probably readying yourself right now to say yes. \"Of course I would! How dare you accuse me of betraying X!\"\n\nBut let's be real with each other for a moment. We wouldn't make that choice. We're all sane enough to know we'd all react differently than how we would.\n\nI've always been intrigued by heroes. They risk their lives to save others, and for what? A pat on the back by law enforcement? To sleep better at night? To protect their loved ones?\n\nI never truly understood why they did the things they did, at least until I got a taste of it.\n\nAbout a day ago, on an unusually stormy night, I came across a man in a white lab coat with disheveled hair and a dirty face. He ran up to me and excitedly shook my hand. Before I could react he began speaking,\n\n\"I've done it!\", he exclaimed, \"I've finally summoned our great lord!\" \n\nHe gripped my hand tighter and began leading into a dark alleyway. I was too shocked by his excitement to object to his strong pull. He led me through a door I had previously not noticed.\n\nThe door looked as if it belonged 100 years in the past. The wood was old and scarred by what seemed to be claw marks. I felt like the nearest touch would cause it to break into pieces, yet the man pushed it open without care and led me inside. \n\nI was now in a small room with wooden walls and creaking floorboards. It was mostly without detail, well besides the large amount of demonic runes creating a circle in the middle.\n\nThe man pulled a book from what looked like thin air and handed it to me,\n\n\"Read it!\", he commanded.\n\nNow listen, I'm not the kinda guy who just listens to some mad scientist who wants to summon what would clearly be a large demon. So, instead of helping him out, I politely declined and walked home.\n\nAnd you know what? I felt good! I felt heroic! I had single-handedly stopped my town from being destroyed by a large and terrible demon. I slept soundly knowing I had saved this town from a monster.\n\nI woke up this morning to find my town was completely destroyed, buildings had been wrecked, bodies were wrecklessly splayed out against the ground. All that remained was the room the man had brought me into last night. I calmly walked inside, knowing full well some evil soul must have summoned a demon to ravage the town. \n\nI saw the body of the man whom I stopped from summoning a demon on the night before. A tinge of grief overcame me, who would let this happen! Who would summon this monster and let my good friend... uhh... Lab Coat Guy die!\n\nI wouldn't let this stay this way. I picked up the book he had in his hand, it was flipped to the unstoppable demon tab, I flipped to see if there were any spells of resurrection and was all but shocked to see there were none.\n\nI sat down in remorse, how could someone hurt The Coat! (his nickname he'd had since college, come on guys keep up!) I was infuriated! I flipped to a random page and just so happened to come across a wealth and prosperity spell. It's requirements were pretty simple compared to the rest of them,\n\n\"All you need is to be prepared to let everyone you know die!\", was listed in the ingredients tab. \n\nBefore making the choice I flipped to the time manipulation section and saw a spell with just as simple an ingredients tab,\n\n\"The book will burn after performing this spell.\" \n\nI pondered for many seconds which spell would be better to make.\n\nSince my only friend was Guy With Coat I cast the wealth spell without much thought. It didn't take long before my phone began filling with news stories about how every world leader had just died. \n\nI thought back to all my memories and remembered the time I met all those people a year ago on a dare. Apparently some meeting with a bunch of people in suits was being held there. I, of course, walked in while wearing a suit and sat at a table without a flag on it. It didn't take long before the room filled with people in suits. \n\nI stayed for an hour before trying to sneak out while they talked intensely about some ban on magical books that I'd been hearing about. They all turned and looked at me as I walked out before turning back around and continuing their argument. \n\nI guess they were all world leaders or something...\n\nAnyway that's all in the past, I'm rich now! I could buy all the golden toilets I want! \n\nI walked out of the bar satisfied with my choice. I was so happy I didn't even hear the loud inhuman footsteps approaching behind me. ",
"If you are reading this then there is still hope, somewhere out there. You don't know me but It doesn't matter, all that you need to know is what transpired on this day the 3rd day of Windolm 45 XX. This world has been ravaged by darkness and malevolence, desperation and dispire lingers in the air within cities all across Parthoax. The people of this world have begun to merge with the darkness, and like a tumor they spread their desperation onto others repeating the cycle of chaos. \n\n\nMy wish is that you never see the world as I have, sister slaying sister and a father his son. Reason has long been forgotten only fear remains in their hearts. The darkness spread to nearly all corners of this land devouring all in its path, leaving not a single trace of humanity in its wake. \n\n\nNo this is not a world that you belong in, the darkness has no claim over you not anymore. \n\nI have to confess that I too have been touched by darkness, and I'm ashamed to admit that I too became desperate. Let no one convince you that doing the wrong thing is right regardless of the situation, be true to your conviction and true to yourself no matter what. \n\n\nMy dear friend Jura would laugh if he were to read this, and he would probably chastise me for lecturing you when I couldn't stay true to my own conviction. I'm rambling I apologize, it's just that thoughts and memories tend to linger near the end. \n\n\nI has given a choice to save humanity or betray it, but it would seem that decision was made the day darkness consumed our hearts. There was nothing left to do but take action so I set out on my journey to find you and others like you those who have been unaffected by the darkness. \n\n\nI am truly sorry, if you are reading this it means that you are able to comprehend these words. Know that there was no choice left to make, in order to save humanity I had to let it be destroyed with the darkness. Yes there is no one left outside, look around the room, you and all those little faces are all that's left of us. \n\n\nTake care of one another and love each other like family, because that is what you are now, a family. When you reach the surface take this letter and burn it, this is the last piece of evidence of our failure. Don't let the darkness conquer this world again, it grows slowly and looms in the hearts of those who know of it's existence. \n\n\nSo finally I leave you with my final wish. \n\n\nLive and spread your light across the world so that others may see it and be filled with joy. If you can do that and help others do the same this world will finally be free. \n\n",
"I saved them all.\n\nAs if it was a fucking choice.\n\nI don't need my dick sucked every time I help someone up when they've taken a fall.\n\nI don't need a goddamn pat on the back when I help the old bitty cross the street.\n\nI'm not looking for a kiss when I punch out a guy's lights when he gets too aggressive with some poor, scared girl who ain't interested.\n\nI'm not going to expire just cause I didn't get so much as a thank you for wasting three hours of my life performing CPR on some jackass that didn't have the decency to open his eyes ever again.\n\nI'm not going expect a high five from the lady whose husband died of an embolism in my ER.\n\nAnd so help me God, I'm not going to start now. Because I'm not saving lives just so that the rest of you can roll over and worship me.\n\nI'm not doing it because they deserve it. Because they don't, nine out of ten times they don't. But that one is worth more than the rest of them. And it's okay if the other nine get an easier ride for it. They might become the one someday, after all.\n\nIs that so wrong? That I actually give a fuck? I don't think so. I just... I just wish it could be a little easier to come up with fucks to give.\n\nLike, maybe if someone could just give a fuck right back every once in a while. This endless quest to make the world a better place might not be so... I dunno, draining, I guess.\n\nMake me miserable and save the world, eh? Brother, I'm already there.\n\nSo yeah...\n\nI saved them all.\n\nAs if it was a fucking choice.",
"Bloodied, left arm broken, half blind, his friends and allies barely clinging to life, the hero Hector stood over the vile Lich Zaire. \n\nHis massive executioner’s sword, one of the few weapons which could finally put the monster to rest lay over his shoulder, but both he and the Lich knew that it was over, one last strike is all it would take. And if would hit, Zaire’s bones were drained of magic, and could scarcely move now, but he could still talk.\n\n\n“I suppose I had a good run, if I was going to finally die I’m glad it’s at the hands of someone practical, not a platitude spouting moron.” The Lich’s smile almost seemed to widen, “I don’t suppose you’d be here if you hadn’t made peace with the prophecy.” \n\n“We make our own fate.” He raised his sword. \n\nThe skull scoffed: “Not like that, it’s a death curse I inherited from my master, I tried to fight it too at first.”\n\nThis was new. Hector looked down at the gem set into his left gauntlet. It whenever someone nearby was lying. No artifact, but it was among his greatest treasures. It stayed dull. \n\n“He who strikes me down will inherit all the hatred people have for me. The Lich continued. You’ll be a pariah till the end of your days, your fiends too, but it doesn’t have to be that way. I’m even willing to give you a kingdom and make a non-aggression oath.” \n\nThe gem still didn’t glow. \n\n“I would have been fine dying here.” \n\nThe gem glowed pink.\n\n“Fuck.” \n\n“Yeah, that about covers it.” Chucked the litch. \n\n“You’ll spare my friends in a kingdom of our own, of our choice?” Asked Hector. \n\n“Yes.” \n\n“But you’ll use the shade matrix to kill and enslave the rest of humanity.” \n\n“I wouldn’t say... \nHector glared at him, \nwell yes.” \n\n\nHector paused for long moments considering. He was a mercenary, not a crusader or chosen of the light. He was fighting because he and the few he cared about couldn’t live in a world overrun with undead. Zaire was trying to save himself, obviously, but he also wasn’t lying. He felt calm, actually. For the first time in centuries things were out of his hands. It helped that he didn’t fear death, he couldn’t feel fear anymore. \n\n\n“What would you do?” Asked Hector. \n\n“What?” \n\n“You took on this curse from your master. You know what it means to be reviled be humanity, they used to be your people too. You scraped an existence together in the shadows, carved a home for yourself into a mountainside, abandoned your mortality to survive. Well, “survive”. \nAnd here you were on top of your corner of the world anyway. Don’t think I don’t respect that. I even understand that you want vengeance, it hurts to be hated. \nSo would you do it all over again?” ",
"\"What say you, Hero?\"\n\n...\n\nI remember my first look, the floors of slated white, a chandelier of crystal casting a halo of serenity upon the scene. A true mansion's entryway with stairs leading in either direction, a layer of the finest felts in red to take the wick of my shoes. A palace of propriety, beset by my name, a home.\n\nOutside the grass ran in rows of jade encircling the road that led to my doorstep. A fountain at its center casting rainbows in its spray. Laid against my skin the finest threads, sown to fit, giving for the first time a finery to my look. A pouch that could never be empty when I reach for coin in trade of food. Luxury may be its name but to me it was home, for once.\n\nStill on a day he would come to visit, preach the voice of the lesser, then leave to return another. Berate my life to the day, but never my decision. It'd been offered to stop his occasional visits but I accepted them, nay wanted them. It reminded me the day he arrived telling me of my destiny, a duty to save.\n\nIn truth it was an easy decision, I answered without second thought. I may have lived with disdain and still would, but these are understandable. I stand by that decision that day, and will forever stand by it. It would be foolish to do any else.\n\nHow much would have changed? Sure a tyranny may have not ruled the world, but would the problems of the people have gotten any better. So much as there is someone to fight they will band together, so much as there is people there will be an evil. The questions after the world would have been saved would have been simple: who is next? Who is still starved? Who is in charge?\n\nNow though, the Lord rules and horror haunts them all. I am at fault, that is to be understood. But not much would have changed had the decision been different, of that I am sure.\n\n_\n\nr/theoreticalfictions\n\nEdit: a word"
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[WP] After 13 long years, your dad finally returns from the grocery store from picking up milk. What's strange is that he seemed to look the same as he did 13 years ago, down to the clothes and all. What's even stranger is that he didn't seem to know 13 years have passed.
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"My father came back from the dead after 13-14 years, well he wasn't really dead but I'm getting ahead of myself.\n\nMy name is Kevin and it all started almost 14 years ago dad said he was going to the grocery store and get some milk. Mom wasn't in the picture. She left all three of us, me, dad and my little brother Marshall for some roadie, I don't remember.\n\nI just finished getting dressed putting my homework in my backpack before helping my brother get dressed, Marshall\n\"I want cereal!\" He said. \n\"Crap. I forgot milk\" said dad \"wait here I'll run to the corner store pick some up\"\n\"You forgot on purpose?\" I say with a smile \"you going ask her out?\"\n\"No, I actually forgot, \" he said turning red \"besides, my boys come first\"\n\n After he left me and Marshall watched The Price is Right \"Bob Arker is funny\" said Marshal \nI smile \"it's Bob Baker.\"\n\"Is that why he says to have your pets spayed or neutered?\"\n\"Maybe\" I shrug. \n\"Dad should be here by now\"\n\nI called his cell a 6010 Nokia and got \"this subscriber is outside the coverage area\" by this time I panicked, \"he never shuts off his phone\" I said out loud. I immediately called the store asked and they said he left 20 minutes ago.\n\n\"Where's a daddy?\" My brother \"he said I can have cereal before school.\" \n\"Eat something else,\" I said as I dialed the police. After telling the operator that my dad is missing and explaining that he would never leave us without saying where he's going.\n \nCouple Years of being on missing persons he was legal because some found blood on his chared wallet with chared. The official story was he was struck by lightning and mountain lion must have dragged him off.\n\nThat was until yesterday when about thirteen years later when we heard pounding on the door \"come on it is not funny guys coming its cold.\" \nI yelled out for him to leave. He panicked and started kicking down the door. \"If you hurt kids, I'll kill you,\" he said One police call later the officer the officer knocks on the door showing his badge in the window I unlock the door. \n\nThe call policy calls me in and said that the fingerprints match a Rich Carson and needed me to ID to provide DNA for a reference. \n\nFast forward to today after my dad is being held with under without charge under the Patriot Act no one will tell me anything and I keep asking but the NSA keeps saying it has to do with national security.\n\n-------\n\n\"Thank you, Kevin. I that was great, I think we have Everything will do everything we can to have father freed,\" says the lawyer.\n\n\"Do you think that the interview will help?\" asks Kevin\n \n\"It certainly can't hurt,\" says the lawyer.\n\n\"It's been almost a year since he came back,\" says Kevin, \"he said all he saw was a flash of light then thought nothing of it. Now the government won't let us near him.\n\n\"How are you and your brother holding up?\" Asks the lawyer\n\n\"He stopped drinking, thanks for getting him into rehab he's managing himself better.\" Says Kevin\n\n\"And your dad?\" Ask the lawyer\n\n\"Monthly appointments behind glass,\" says Kevin, \"but the room he's in is nice but no privacy and I can't hug him either. Still doesn't know what is going on. Do you think he was actually abducted?\"\n\n\"Honestly don't know don't care,\" says the lawyer \"you pay me to get him out not to care\"\n\nHe smiles then leaves.",
"Thirteen and a half years ago, my dad went out the the store. He said it was for milk, it was actually for a pack of smokes, none of that is super relevant.\n\nSix months ago, he came home.\n\nIt was... uncomfortable, at first. Mom had remarried. *I* had a boyfriend, and dad hadn't had the luxury of a half decade to come to terms with me being super gay. We'd remodeled the upstairs at one point, and replaced the front lawn with a less water-sucking courtyard. General improvements made over time, that added up to an alien home to someone who was out of their own era.\n\nBut he was back. He was home. My dad. I couldn't be mad or awkward forever; I'd loved him, and still did. He was always there for me, until the day he wasn't.\n\nThere is, with humans, an imperative to search for a cause to something. *Why*, we ask. Why is the sun so bright, why is the sky blue? Why does this bird live here and this one does not? Why am I sick, and why can't we fix it?\n\nWhy did a human man, age thirty nine, drop off the face of the world for thirteen long years, and come back as if nothing had happened?\n\nFuck, he even brought back that beat up old pickup he loved. Loves.\n\nSo we started looking. I took time off work. Mom canceled her vacation plans. Even Devon, her husband who had been starting to feel more and more like a 'dad', sat with us when we needed an extra head, and gave us polite space when it became uncomfortable. He and dad got along really well, though, which was surprising. Dad was taking this whole thing kinda well. Maybe he was just delightfully surprised good smartphones existed.\n\nBut after six months, what it was looking like was that there was no why. There was no greater plan to this. No magic, no divine intervention, no summoning from another dimension. No curse, hex, pact, or glitch in the matrix. There were no anomalous energy readings, no quantum fluctuations, no... anything. There was just something that had happened. Once. And never again.\n\nUntil we found the support group.\n\nI went with dad sometimes, other times he went on his own, when he said he needed space. I always felt my heart skip a beat when that happened, because I remembered what happened the last time he left the house alone. It was a meetup group at the local library, every Saturday afternoon, for people who... well, there wasn't a blanket term. For people like my dad.\n\nPeople who had their whole lives upended in an instant, from something that didn't make sense. They talked, they commiserated, they cried together. They found something there that I didn't fully understand had been lost, but that they all needed.\n\nCassandra was the woman who started the group. She'd been dead for most of her life, and was still coming to terms with how that even worked. Her husband was really amazing, always there for her, even when he'd just attended her funeral again. She told us, \"There are some things in the world that we don't understand yet. And there are some things in the world we don't *want* to understand. But then, there's those things that understanding slides around, like oil and water. We're those.\"\n\nI'd spent the next week calling my dad \"Oily\" with a big old grin, until he'd laughingly tossed me into the community swimming pool with a throw that I remembered from my childhood, and suddenly felt the pain of missing again. We'd stopped laughing, but not stopped understanding each other then.\n\nThere were other people who came and went from the group. Bob, who sometimes got to relive days, but not in any particular order. He'd always tell us if he'd looped, to be polite, and offer up advice on who shouldn't buy lottery scratchers. Mars was less polite; a young person from another Earth, who had a lot of cultural adaptation to do. She yelled a lot. Or Louis, who'd found a really, *really* old coin that made him consume wi-fi and microwave radiation for some reason.\n\nMy favorite though was the guy my age, Indri. He said he'd been cursed, which was actually kind of hard to take, because curses implied magic, which implied it could be repeated. That sort of systemic thing was really uncomfortable, almost distressing, to the rest of the group. They didn't just think that our problems were one-offs, they *needed* them to be unique. If only so we could know it wasn't happening to anyone else. Not like we ever would with Indri. I don't actually know his actual name, I just write something different, because everything written or recorded about him blanks itself after a while. It took me a while to figure out that I have to treat him as a hypothetical, or a fictional character to get anything to stick. Makes it hard to keep up a friendship with him, but we're getting coffee after the group this weekend, so it must be working.\n\nI know all of this sounds like it doesn't have a point, or like there's disappointment that there wasn't some grand plot, or colossal family drama, or a big twist to it. Maybe there will be, eventually. But there is a point. My dad's back. He's having trouble adjusting, but he's back. My dad, who I thought was either dead or an asshole for thirteen years, is home again. He bought that damn milk, he carried it through thirteen impossible years, and he made it back to an unfamiliar world. But he did it.\n\nAnd life goes on.\n\nI'm gonna go hug my dad now.",
"I slammed the door shut.\n\nIt had been 13 years since I had last seen my father. 13 years, almost to the day, since he had left to \"pick up some milk\" from the shop around the corner. And he has the NERVE to show up carrying a gallon of milk, along with a few other groceries.\n\nYears of hatred started to bubble to the surface. People always liked to say, \"It's not your fault. Don't blame yourself.\" I knew it wasn't my fault. I had never blamed myself. I knew that my dad was just a coward. After losing his job at the meat processing plant, he left me and my mom to fend for ourselves. No financial support, no birthday cards. Nothing.\n\nI stormed away from the door, down the hallway towards the living room. Mom was ironing clothes in front of the television.\n\n\"You'll never guess who is at our front door right now,\" I growled.\n\nAfter giving me a quizzical look, my mom unplugged the hot iron, walked into the kitchen, and placed it in the sink. She had always been paranoid about leaving the iron plugged in, afraid that someone might trip on the cord and burn themselves, I guess.\n\nAs I sat down in front of the tv, my mom left the kitchen and headed towards the door. I smiled to myself. While I had suppressed my hatred of the man who had abandoned us, my mom had never been shy about letting those feelings show. My father was about to experience my mom's unfiltered rage towards him.\n\nIt would be the beatdown of the year.\n\nUpon hearing my mom open the door, I listened intently, trying to discern the harsh words she would be using to describe my father's character. I strained, listening for some small whisper of hate, that would cut that man down where he stood.\n\nI heard the door close softly.\n\nI heard footsteps coming down the hallway.\n\nMy parent's passed the door to the living room, and I heard my father lay all the groceries on the kitchen table.\n\n\"Oh good,\" I thought to myself. \"Now he can't run away as easily once mom really get's going.\"\n\nBut to my surprise, there was no yelling. There was no hitting. No glasses and plates thrown.\n\nMy father strode into the living room and scooped me up off the floor into his arms.\n\n\"Hey pal! Tv time is over, it's time to get that smelly bum into the bath!\" As he said this, he tickled my belly, resulting in an involuntary high pitched squeal from me. This laugh seemed foreign, as if it came from a toddler. \n\n\n\nHopefully the formatting is ok, I’m living that mobile life!",
"The thirteen years without dad has been hard on the family, especially on mom. After he left, mom has been starting to drink again, and at first it wasn't bad. Some drinks here and there to cope with the new adjustment, but now the amount of bottles tossed around the house is uncountable.\n\nThe once so-called home was now a place where I regret ever coming back to at the end of the day, but nonetheless here I stand in the kitchen waiting for that door to open with my dad smiling with that classic grin that I miss.\n\nThis was something I did often, sitting down by the tiled kitchen counter waiting to hear the sound of jingling keys or the door unlocking. Waiting here every day for thirteen years, has been killing me from the inside out. It's not the fact that I hate sitting here on this uncomfortable wooden stool that I hate, but the fact that I'm starting to lose hope in my dad that I hate the most.\n\nLike today for example. Today is the official day when dad went missing. He simply told us that he would be back in a few to grab some milk, but here I am waiting for him to walk through those doors. \n\nAfter all these years I never gave up on him, but it was today that I told myself if he doesn't come home that it was time to move on. Time to finally accept that he left for good.\n\nPlacing my palms on the counter top trying my best to fight my need for sleep, I laid my head ontop of them with my eyes straight forward staring at the white wooden door, \"come on dad, please. I really can't do this without you,\" I pleaded even though I felt like the only person who was listening was the mocking wooden door.\n\nNo response came back, so closing my eyes I asked one last time, \"Dad, please...\" \n\nI was only meet with the sound of silence answering me, and the last sense of hope I had vanished through out the dark cloudy night. A large sigh left my lips as I began to get up, and walked away, but the sounds of keys jingling caught my attention.\n\nI quickly whipped my head towards the door, and my eyes caught a sight of a tall male figure walking in with a the classic grin I missed, \"Dad!\" I yelled out running towards him, and wrapping my arms around his body.\n\nHe returned the hug with a simple pat on the back, and his eyebrows furrowed, \"Uhhhhh hi?\" He responded back.\n\nI figured that he couldn't recognize me since it's been so long, \"Dad it's me! It's Amelia! Your daughter! You've been gone so long where were you? How did you get here? You said you were only getting milk, but then you never came back so I stood here waiting for you everyday! Why did you lea-\" I quickly put myself into a halt when I saw him begin to get anxious from the sudden questions from a \"stranger\" who began tearing up.\n\nHis eyes widened when he finally recognize that it was indeed me,\"Amelia? When did you get so big?\" He asked, then quickly continuing on, \"Wha-what do you mean I was gone? I was just picking up milk at the grocery store. How long has it been?\" He began to respond as his eyes shifted quickly around the room seeing all the new changes in the house.\n\n\"Dad, it's been thirteen years...\" I responded quietly fearing that he has no memory leaving his family at all.\n\n\"Thirteen years? Does that mean yo-youre...twenty? I-i don't remember anything? All I remember is going to the store and picking up some milk! How does this make any se-\" he said trying to remember fragments of the memories he does have.\n\nI quickly ended his sentence with a large engulf, \"I missed you so much dad,\" not being able to hold back any feelings anymore, because he was finally here.\n\nHere stood the man whom I waited for everyday, and no answer was better than the feeling of his arms wrapped around my body.\n\n\"I miss you too sweetheart,\" \n\nThis was the only thing I have ever wanted to hear.\n\n"
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[WP] A hush fell over the room, the announcement hanging in the air. "The Potatoman Cometh."
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Before I saw anything, I felt the crisping in my ear. Those abused appendages of burnt periderm dragging against the floor - dragging and, occasionally, pausing for respite. I've never been so much disturbed by the texture of the sound as I was by the uneasy rhythm. A scrape here; a pause there. Perhaps the ruffling of dormant buds against the cobblestone stairway behind the door. And yet none of it in time. None of it with any order or familiarity. Always alien, no matter how many times I've been here.\n\nThis was always the moment when people started stirring. Their evening conversations beaten down slowly, into a quiet and eager hum of curiosity. Their unspoken culinary banter silenced, too, but for the small few satisfied clinks of glasses in anticipation. You could see their nostrils flair, delighted at the starchy breeze creeping between the jamb and the door. That familiar wheezing of his always got people going. As always, most of us were newcomers. Not me of course. Seasoned. In all ways except that which I fear to admit as an eventuality.\n\nStep, by step, by step, the guests listened and leaned into the table with intrigue, awaiting the rap at the door. The room at its trough of sound, whispers had abated and only the teethy hiss of unwanted breath remained.\n\n**\\*THUD\\* \\*THUD\\* \\*THUD\\***\n\nThe Potatoman cometh."
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[WP] After moving into your first apartment living alone, your landlord drops by after the first week. He asks if you’re enjoying the new place, you say it’s a great apartment, it’s such a nice feature that the toilet seat is always warm during the night. The landlord says that’s not a feature....
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"You looked at your landlord in pure and utter confusion.\n\n\"What do you mean it's not a feature, it has to be,\" You were thinking of all the possibilities, your landlord responds \"I'm telling you It's not a feature Marissa, that's just not a thing, a toilet seat can't heat up,\" \n\nYou both sit in silence wondering if you have a person hiding in the apartment, like in all those online stories you read all the time, but nothings been eaten, or taken. So what's going on, your landlord Jerry stays and searches the place, just in case. NO sign of anyone, or anything.\n\nIt was strange, that the toilet seat always got warm during the night, and the night only, you considered the possiblility of the paranormal, or monsters, but that flew right over your head, ghosts and monsters aren't real, right?\n\nThe next week you checked the toilet seat at 1 AM, it was warm, you called up Jerry, telling him it was still warm, he said he doesn't know what's going on, and he says you could do anything you need to fix it. Anything just so happened to involve your friend, who is a firm believer on the paranormal, so you invited her over asking for help, she comes over at around 2 AM with a bunch of things in her arms like a night vision camera, a voice recorder, candles, and a board game of some sorts.\n\nThe board was called an Ouija board, your friend followed you to the bathroom where it was all going down, you showed her how the toilet seat was warm at night, agreeing that it is not normal, she sets up her camera in the bathroom, she turns it on and waits, she then sets up everything else, placing the board in front of the toilet, with candles on the sink counter, she places the voice recorder next to the board and turns off the lights.\n\nShe starts the camera and turns on the voice recorder, telling you what to do, \"Now Marissa what I need you to do is place two of you fingers on this triangle for me,\" she explains, you do as told, she then places her fingers there as well, \"Marissa what I need you to do if promise you will not move this at all times, and if things seem to sketchy then move the triangle to goodbye and say goodbyr,\" You nod, she then starts asking questions.\n\n\"Is anyone here with us tonight,\" The triangle starts moving, you panic a little, as it moves towards yes, your friend promises it's normal.\n\n\" Are you the one sitting on the toilet,\" That seemed like it would be a little weird if it was out of context, but that question was a need to know, the triangle stays at yes, your friend asks her 3rd question.\n\n\"What's your name,\" The triangle starts moving, your friend very obviously memorizing the letters.\n\n\"So your name is Russel?\" She asks, just being sure her answer was right, the triangle moved to yes, you both knew by now that it was a male.\n\n\"Would you be willing to leave?\" It starts to move to no, your friend questions why, the triangle explains that Russel is stuck there, you both say goodbye and she packs up and leave,\n\nYou later find out that Russel can communicate with pencil and paper, so you leave him a pencil and paper for you both to communicate.\n\nYou both became very good friends, and he turned out to be a great roommate, he helped with outfits, and reminders, he helped when you were sad because your relationships ended and he stayed with you when you were at your worst.\n\nYou never bought a new apartment after that, and spent you days growing old in that house, eventually you had died, and you had found out you were stuck in your house, now you could finally see Russel for the first time in your entire life."
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[WP] You can pull random objects from the past into the present. You usually get things like rocks or if you get lucky some pretty valuable old stuff from like Ancient Egypt or Rome, but today you got something that looks surprisingly futuristic.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I can't just do it whenever. And by that, I mean I can't just do it wherever. You pull something out standing over here, you can't ever do it there again. It's not about exact distances either, like you gotta go fifty meters that way before you can get something else. More a kind of...feeling of potential, a sense that an area hasn't been worn-out in some way. It's instinctive. Maybe dragging things through time weakens the fabric of the universe somehow, and this is how reality sort of defends itself?\n\nWho knows. Ever since the Silver Shower when all those meteors fell to Earth, various scientists and kooks have been trying to figure out how the whole \"superpower\" thing works. So far without a lot of luck, but hey, it's only been a few years.\n\nI don't use my power to fight crime. I mean, obviously. Even if I could control what I got, or had some sort of lucky \"exactly what you need in the moment\" thing going, I don't know how useful it would be. Yay, an iron sword. Let's use it to run at this dude who shoots lightning out of his eyeballs. That's just gonna turn out great for everyone.\n\nNah. I use it to make money. Archaeologists sometimes, governments mostly. Nationalist types. They hire me to go to known sites and ruins and snatch nice fresh artifacts out of the air. It's interesting sometimes. Mostly it's just a living. I end up tossing a lot of rocks and bricks and shitty pottery aside. Because, like, an ancient clay vase is interesting, until you have fifty of them, and since they don't carbon-date as old they're not that different to what some talented college kid could turn out on a potter's wheel in the basement of the campus Fine Arts Building. But sure, sometimes it's some old weapon or helmet, or perishable object they've never seen before.\n\nSo I spend a lot of time in old places and luxury hotels. Honestly, until today I was feeling pretty damn grateful about my ticket in the Superpower Lottery. I wasn't being conscripted to fight some dickhead in a stupid costume with delusions of grandeur. And I didn't have any major delusions of my own, at least so far as I could tell. Powers made some people go all the way off the depend, like we're talking mentally mid-ocean here. Sane, rich, semi-interesting job, hard to complain.\n\nBut this place, man. No. No no no. First of all, it's too damn cold. Even with all the gear they gave me. Yes, I'm being well-paid, and yes, I shouldn't have expected any different from the freaking Arctic in the first place. I don't care. You'd complain too. Because this place is unsettling as all Hell.\n\nThey found it because everything was melting, from what I understood. It didn't make the news, some team of superpowered do-gooders were there after some other superpowered type who'd gotten it in his meteor-muck head to build a base on the polar ice cap. Which, as everyone is perfectly aware, is melting. They have their fight, they calve a few dozen new icebergs in the process, the crazy dies in some dramatic self-inflicted fashion, pretty usual scene these days. But they also spot something. Under the ice.\n\nI hate it. I hate looking down and seeing it. It's unsettling. You can make out the outlines, but that's it. And what you can make out, it's maybe a city, maybe a temple site, but the proportions are all wrong, and the lines don't follow right. I don't know any other way to put it. They have me walking all over, clunking these heavy across this half-transparent window into I-don't-want-to-know. They tell me they've tried radar and sonic imaging but whatever we can see down there, it just absorbs it, comes back black. Not useful black, like words on a page, shitty fuck-you black, like a printer where the toner cartridge has decided to go out in the most spiteful way possible.\n\nAnd I can't pull anything. It's like...trying to pull your boot out of a meter-deep mud puddle. There's stuff there, it just...won't. But I keep trying, because I want to get paid, because I want all this to be good for *something.*\n\nI can't pull anything, until I do. And that's when the trouble started. It was a long thing, like a kind of pole, only it twisted. By that I mean several things. One, you could turn its various segments into different configurations. Two, there was that thing with the lines again, where they just didn't follow, only now up close instead of scene through meters and meters of ice, it hurt you eyes. I decided right away just not to look at it. And three...it moved by itself. Spun when you let go of it, different sections at different rates. Not in midair, not quite; if you dropped it, it'd fall until one end hit the ground.\n\nBut then it'd stop, just twisting there at whatever angle it had already been at.\n\nThey were fascinated by it. The scientists, I mean. Saying it was clearly some tech, maybe a crashed UFO buried for God knew how long. What *I* knew, meanwhile, is that I wanted to be somewhere else. Somewhere warm, with hot chocolate or coffee or tea. Maybe a little brandy. And fresh socks. So...I was. Somewhere else. Tucked away in a cozy room when it all happened.\n\nI can't look at them, not any more than I could look at the thing I pulled. They're all twisted now too. Not literally, not like you're thinking maybe, I could handle that I think. Hate it, but handle it. No, they're...something else now. Or they were. They're dead, I think. I hope. So I'm going to wait here until someone comes. The radios don't work, but maybe that's good, right? No one's heard from us, they'll know there's trouble, they'll come.\n\nI just hope some*one* comes before some*thing* does.\n\nI don't like thinking about what I can hear beneath the ice.\n\n​\n\nr/Magleby"
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[WP] You are not an evil scientist, people just misusing your inventions. Today you have had enough.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The bastards use the normal RSS feed to learn about updates. Fools. \n\n80% permit download receipts, and 5% of the rest only have basic VPN protection. If people are going to commit atrocities with MY tech, they could at least be competent with basic web security.\n\nThrough multiple system changes, hardware platforms, and security revisions, I always made sure to base things on backwards compatible firmware. Consistent machine level diagnostics are your friend when you're debugging literal life or death code. That's how I I'd get them back for ruining my name, my legacy.\n\nThe virus was packaged in firmware updates 9.343.2B, NIX-9-45.4, and a revision of the oldie but goodie, LOLZOOKAFIRM.PKG.16.00.000.98. That last would catch any of the villainous idiots still using my original freeze-ray specs. They were supposed to revolutionize flash freezing of fresh foods, not facilitate half assed bank robberies!\n\nThe last 5%, an estimated 24 people, I either couldn't detect, or were modding their firmware, reckless idiots. One thing they had in common, though, was that they were all early adopters. They thought they were so cautious, but they always got my latest designs up and running immediately, sometimes even before me!\n\nThey're gonna love my latest design. General AI? Oh yeah. Hack anything remotely? You bet. Secretly designed to have a sense of justice, ethics, and a respect for the equal value of each human life? My very pride and joy. \n\nTomorrow, my children will fix everything. ",
"Before a crowd of more than 5,000 investors and members of the press, the old inventor began the most important speech of his life. \n\n“I am 87 years old and am glad to have you at the unveiling of my final invention. Soon you will see that behind this red curtain lies one of the greatest contributions one man has ever made to humanity. \n\nIn the past, they called me mad. They called me a lunatic. Some have even called me a sadistic evil genius.\n\nBut it’s not me that’s mad. It’s not me that’s a lunatic. And there is nothing sadistic or evil about me.\n\nIf they want to call anything mad or evil, they should be looking in the face of science itself. I am but a humble servant of science. I simply follow in the footsteps of those who came before me and try solve mankind’s problems. \n\nFor example, when I invented the spork, did anyone give me a prize? Did anyone even give me a pat on the back? \n\nNO!\n\nThe only time I heard anything about my invention in the media was when six children were bludgeoned to death by sporks at a Winona Judd concert. Did the media blame the librarians that carried out the attack?\n\nNO!\n\nThey blamed the humble inventor of the spork! I was just following the scientific method, which led me to combining two of the greatest inventions in history.\n\nAfter the spork incident, I decided to devote my life to creating foods that people could eat without any utensils. After years of crossbreeding and genetic modification, I finally created my masterpiece – the Clementine orange. These tiny oranges were sweet and could be peeled without the assistance of a knife, fork, or a goddamned spork. \n\nBut did the media report that I was saving the world from the tyranny of utensils?\n\nNO!\n\nInstead, the first time I heard anything about my fruit in the media was after the war started. You see, I created a fruit so popular that it led to *The Great Clementine Orange Wars Of 2022*. Millions were killed and billions suffered during the war. Did they blame the politicians who had an endless thirst for Clementine orange juice?\n\nNO!\n\nThey blamed me. A humble inventor who was trying to solve one of the world’s oldest and most perplexing utensil related problems.\n\nSo now here I am at the biggest press event I’ve ever witnessed and I’m ready to introduce an invention that will solve one of the largest problems that mankind has ever faced. I have solved the problem of death during war.\n\nNever again will men have to go to war over resources like Clementine oranges or fossil fuels. \n\nInstead, I have created hundreds of thousands of missile and machine gun equipped androids that will be able to do the fighting in wars in place of human beings. These androids will save millions of soldiers’ lives.\n\nBehold, the Android Army.” The old inventor said as he motioned toward the red curtain. \n\nBoth sides of the curtain swept outward toward the edges of the stage. \n\nBehind the curtain, a square mile of empty concrete slab was revealed.\n\n“God damnit,” the old inventor mumbled.",
"The only sounds in Bander Von Bon’s study were the soft *ticking* - *tocks* of the cuckoo clock above the door and the erratic tinkering noises he produced from where he hunched over his red cedar desk. They formed a song of steady innovation. The clock kept the time and he was the great maestro, like the *god* of music and creation. \n\nDr Bander set his spectacles to 3x strength, then 6x, then 18x; adding each time a thicker lens over the last. The back corner of his mind whispered its vain wish that his hand would stop quivering, but the rest of his thinking power focused on his task. \n\nHe bit his lower lip, “Come on. Come. Onnnnn....,”\n\n*BANG*\n\n“Youch!” \n\nBander gasped, “Oops,” he said. \n\nThe door behind him crashed open, Hannah Galloway rushing through it. “What happened, Doctor? Are you okay?” \n\nThe Doctor laughed. He spun in his chair to face her and wiped the sweat from his brow. \n\nThe blood rushed out of Hannah’s face. Her knees buckled, but she caught herself before fainting. “Y-your hand...”. \n\nBander raised the bleeding stump. “Yes, it must’ve gotten away from me. Have you seen it anywhere?” \n\n“That’s not funny.” \n\nHe chuckled, “I’ve had worse, trust me.” \n\nThe clock struck noon, and a little rooster in a top-hat protruded from its face. “*Boom Juice. Getchya Boom Juice!*” It called. The rooster held a little green vial in its hand like a walking cane. \n\nBander pointed, “Can you grab that for me?” \n\nHannah looked at it, raising an eyebrow in question.\n\nThe Doctor waved his stump. “Quickly please, otherwise we’ll have to wait until midnight!” \n\nHannah reached up and plucked the vial out of the rooster’s paw. \n\n“*Haha! Bander went boom! Bander went boom,*” the rooster squawked, then it disappeared back into its den. \n\n“Charming,” Hannah said, crossing the room to where the Doctor sat. \n\nBander sighed, “He’s developed a real attitude problem lately.”\n\nThe girl couldn’t suppress a giggle, “Right,” she said, covering her mouth with her free hand. \n\nThe Doctor closed his eyes and held the bloody stump up to Hannah. “Can you, um. Just pour that on here, please?” \n\nHannah rolled her eyes. She’d only signed on as Bander’s apprentice two days ago, and she’d already come to expect this sort of shenanigans from him. \n\nShe uncorked the vial and poured it on the Doctor’s blown off limb. He winced as it foamed up, and then *yelped* as a hand sprouted from his stump. \n\nHannah’s eyes widened, “*Incredible,*” she breathed. \n\nBander stretched his hand, loosening up the new muscles. “What...this? No, not really. A necessary precaution in this line of work, I’m afraid.”\n\nShe marveled at him. He seemed a foolhardy mess of a man. And yet...“*This be madness, yet there is method in’t*,” she whispered. \n\nBander sighed, “Yes, the *mad scientist*. I find it distasteful how acutely I embody the trope.”\n\nHannah shook her head, her close cropped blond hair twirling. “No, sir! You’re....remarkable. A genius!” \n\nBander frowned. “I used to think so. Arrogant fool that I was in my youth. It’s not so, I’m afraid.” \n\nShe grabbed his arm, “But you are! The London Plague, the Zurich Time Paradox, the New Jersey Spatial Distortion, the Alaskan Laughing Massacre! You’ve singlehandedly plunged the corrupt societies of Earth into chaos more times than any other Super, and this with no powers of your own. Your works are inspiring! You-“\n\nThe Doctor’s eyes went dark. He stood up and yanked his arm free, his face afire. “Those are *NOT* my workings,” he said. He didn’t scream nor shout, his words were like ice, cold and hard. \n\nHannah took a step back, “But...but of course they are. I can only *imagine* what you have been working on, locked away in here. You’ll set the *world* on fire, won’t you?” \n\nBander grimaced. His voice lowered to the point that Hannah unconsciously leaned in. “I agreed to take you on as an apprentice because your genius is undeniable. You told me your dream is to change the world, as is mine. I suppose I never asked the most important question, Hannah. *Why*?”\n\nA far off look entered the young prodigy’s eyes. She scowled, as if recalling an unpleasant memory. When she spoke, her voice was steel. “*Revenge*.”\n\nShe paused, looking up at the Doctor, surprised that she’d revealed the secret she’d grown used to keeping to herself. When Bander said nothing, she continued, “The powerful push us around because they think they have nothing to fear from us. I’ll show them. In the jungle, the snake fears the spider...”\n\nBander frowned. “This thing you’re after, it won’t change the way you feel. Hurting someone else is *NOT* the way to cleanse away your pain.” \n\nHannah felt tears welling up in her eyes. “It is. I know it is. It *has* to be...”\n\nThe Doctor took a deep breath. Tedious facts like age meant very little to him, he cared only for ideas, for intellect. Yet, he must’ve been a fool not to see how young this girl is. *Too young to hold that pain in her eyes*. Where were her parents, her family? \n\n“I’m sorry I yelled at you, Hannah. But consider this: who will it hurt if I, as you say, *set the world on fire*? What innocent souls will be caught in the flame?” \n\nThe girl’s jaw clenched, “But your inventions, how can you say-“\n\nBander’s throat became tight. Nothing in the world is harder to speak of than a man’s own shame. Nevertheless, he continued “In London, I gave a child the serum you saw me use to regrow my hand. The boy’s mother was ill, and his father was a debt ridden drunk. I developed it to cure her, but his father stole my work and sold it to satisfy his debts. In the end, a terrorist agency got hold of it and modified my coding to produce something that *destroyed* the body’s cellular regeneration instead of amplifying it.”\n\nHannah swallowed. The Doctor’s sorrow was tangible, practically dripping off his words. \n\n “In Alaska I saw sadness, so I created a machine to make people laugh a little. Some ruffian thug turned it up to max and heaved the device into the ocean, the people there all perished, unable to stop their hysteria, the madness only ending when the machine’s engine malfunctioned. In Zurich, I- I tried to save someone I cared for very much. My first assistant. He was like a son to me, and died in an experiment gone wrong. I should have realized that time was too fickle a mistress to dance with. But I was distraught, I wasn’t thinking clearly.” His words cut off, pain written across his face.\n\n“I don’t understand,” Hannah said. \n\nBander tapped his head, eyes closed. “I’m not doing a good job of explaining this. You see, throughout my life I have failed time after time. I admit that freely. A man should never be ashamed to own that he has been in the wrong, which is to say, in other words, that he is wiser today than he was yesterday.” \n\nHe knelt down and put a hand on Hannah’s shoulder, “Listen here, young one.”\n\nShe scrunched her nose up, “I’m not a *child*.” \n\nHe laughed, “Of course not. I should have said, listen here my trusted apprentice.”\n\nShe squinted her eyes, “Better....”\n\nBander nodded. “I’ll tell you one of the universe’s hidden truths. *Growth* is the greatest mystery of life, beyond even that of death. Every man, woman, and child can understand failure and loss. It is born in us. In our hearts, our blood. But not even the greatest heroes of humanity can begin to describe the incalculable joys and apprehensions of growth.” \n\nHe danced to his feet, tapping his watch. The room became dark, then filled with light as a virtual projection of the universe appeared around them. “Fate is at our elbow, girl! We must chase after it! And the only way to change ourselves is to change the world, one step at a time!” The projection zoomed in at a mesmerizing rate, focusing at last on planet Earth. “You say you want revenge, but of what aim is revenge?”\n\n“I *deserve* my revenge,” Hannah blurted. She spun the planet closer to the sun. Fires began to consume the green vegetation on the planet. The emerald jewel slowly becoming a crimson ruby.\n\nBander shrugged, “Say you hurt another as someone has hurt you, are they not in the right to avenge themselves against you? Can’t you see the cycle of darkness and anguish you will perpetuate if you act in vengeance?” He used his hand the cover the sun’s light, plunging the planet into shadow.\n\n“I suppose...but...”\n\nBander stood up, went to his desk, and returned with the small device he’d been working on. “You asked what I’ve been working on,” he said in a voice low and excited, “This will be my masterwork. The thing that sets right all the wrongs I’ve contributed to. You want to have revenge? Fine. Do it by erasing a little bit of the evil that your enemy has injected into the world, not by *adding* to it! Isn’t that the best form of vengeance? To rise above them, to be something more!” He pushed the earth back to its place and cleverly adjusted the projection’s settings so that life once again bloomed on the surface of the world.\n\nHannah’s eyebrows drew in speculatively. She cupped the world in her hands delicately, watching in awe as the planet re-knit itself. She then reached up and took the device from Bander. Hannah carefully looked it over, her mind detailing its intricate workings mechanically. “I....Yes. I think you’re right,” she said. In the span of seconds she’d worked out a dozen ways in which the little piece of technology she held could be used to set right some of the darkness she’d seen in her past. She considered how her work could *heal*, rather than destroy.....\n\nBander smiled. He’d thought all along that this device would be his salvation. But he’d been wrong again. \n\n*This girl*, he thought, *this girl will be my gift to the world. SHE will be my redemption*....\n\n~\nr/CharlestonChews \n\n",
"People never understand something until it hits them straight in the heart. They’ll believe flowers to be beautiful until they touch them and fall to poison, only then will they see what the flower truly is. Today, I will teach them this lesson that they deserve so greatly. \n\nFor my entire life, I have been in love with machines. Fascinated by each and every gear and current, machines are capable of changing the world by the click of the button. Saving up money through restless jobs and countless hours, there came the day where I built the first machine to change the world. It was a machine capable of heating entire cities, saving the homeless from freezing to death.\n\nWhen I turned it on, I expected praise for my name on headlines. Instead, I was met with harsh scorns and accusations of being a mad scientist. “Mad Scientist Creates Machine that Causes Global Warming.” Read one headline.\n\nMy second invention, I thought would reverse the effects. It would be the guard to intimidate all the false statements as if they were trespassers. But I thought wrong; people hated my machine more than the last. It was a machine that blocked harsh sunlight and regulated it to perfect balance. The people would get their vitamins without the worry of radiation poisoning. \n\n“Lunatic Blocks the Sun and Causes Eternal Night.” What a ridiculous title for an article, at most it’s a light shade, nothing near the darkness of night. This act was the last straw for me. My utmost effort had been tainted by rumors and misunderstandings. My plan for today is to show them something truly devastating. Then, when the history books are written, my first two inventions will be labeled as great, while the third a disaster.\n\nAs I press the button for my new machine, one that will cause the vegetation of the city to grow at a dramatic rate, and the green will overrun the homes of many, I laugh. I only wait a few minutes before I see articles posted, and impressive dedication, I must admit. \nI read the headlines, but then immediately regret this decision.\n\n“Reformed Scientist Saves the Plants.”\n\n“Solution to World Hunger Found Through New Invention.”\n\nI should be smiling, but I can’t. Can somebody please tell me why fate is my enemy?"
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[WP] You die, awaken in hell. However, you quickly realise that it has been turned into a battlefield between a society of famous statesmen, engineers, and generals who have colonised areas for comfortable habitation, and the legions of Satan, wishing to take back the lost lands.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"We pretty much all go to Hell. Turns out, the only people who really had a bead on the requirements for Heaven were one tiny breakaway congregation that formed out of a splinter group of a dissident sect of a fundamentalist revival of some seventeenth-century faction of the original Puritan immigrants in New England. \n\nYeah. Don't we all feel stupid, how did we not see that. No, I wouldn't dream of directing sarcasm in an upward direction, how dare you make such insinuations. Anyway, I guess they're all up there feeling smug? All several hundred of them? We don't really have any way of knowing, apart from what we were told by some snooty angel before being booted down here.\n\nAnd down here's not great. I know, right? It doesn't even fit the old joke about \"Heaven for the climate, Hell for the company\" because EVERYONE IS HERE. And actually the climate's not that bad. The original plan, apparently, was to put us all to work, and too much heat bit into productivity. \n\nWhat's that? Manual labor? Yeah, we got new bodies, no, they're not that different from the old ones, and fuck you, I have no idea how any of it really works. If you die here, you just sort of get...recycled. Only it takes a couple hundred years and you're usually pretty traumatized, so people try not to do it. No one ages, which is nice but can be kind of weird for some people who hadn't been thirtyish in a long time. Everyone's able-bodied, there's no sickness, injuries heal pretty quick though no one's about to put on a superhero costume or anything.\n\nEverything you'd want in a slave, I guess. Within certain limits, which also raises certain questions about whether omnipotence is really a thing, but again, fuck you, no one tells us anything. What we know is that sometime around the time humans started freeing their own slaves, emancipation fever started getting going down here as the dead brought new ideas with them. There was a big revolt, we won, we started carving out territory.\n\nAnd now it's a war, all the time. We were doing pretty well at first. Gunsmiths die, you know? And there's plenty of ore and minerals down here. Even wood. I mean, it's weird and it has eyeballs, but you can kind of dig them out with a spoon and...and hope you don't have that particular factory job for long. These days they're trying to automate the eyeball-removal process, but I digress. We had good weapons, is what I'm saying. And they're getting better.\n\nBut the Legions have started to catch on. Demons are not, as a whole, very bright, but they are sentient and they can learn to follow directions, and also they're pretty good at torture which none of us like to think about, especially the ones who have been here a long time and have, you know, memories. So the Legion has started to fight, if not with fully modern weapons, with some pretty dangerous stuff including artillery. And they do capture our armaments and machines from time. It's not great.\n\nBut maybe it's about to get better.\n\nWe'd been getting a lot of dead for a few years. Big war up top. Lots of traumatized souls, but also lots of people who knew how to fight, so kind of a mixed bag. Then we get this whole batch who have no idea what happened to them, and another one who tell horrific stories about some new weapon that got used on them.\n\nWe start to get some ideas. We wait. When the scientists start dying, we grab them on arrival. We build, and we build. Years and years of work, we're always planing catch-up with Earth. The Legion starts to cotton on that something's happening. We've been weathering the worst attacks in a century lately, but we have to hold, because we've got Old Scratch himself in heavy bomber range.\n\nAnd now, to paraphrase one of our most recent arrivals, we're 'bouta become Death, the Destroyer of Worlds. Open wide, Lucifer ol' buddy ol' pal, we got something to feed ya.\n\n​\n\nr/Magleby"
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[WP] Write a story where the characters slowly become self aware
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The knight had ridden into battle on his horse, his sword in the sunlight. With the dragon ahead, he was determined to save the princess from the awful beast.\n\nAnd so they fought, shield against fire and sword against scale. Each slash of the knight's sword was followed by a column of flame and ash erupting from the dragon's gaping maw. \n\nAs the knight plunged his sword into the dragon, it collapsed with a faltering cry. \n\nThe knight smiled, but soon, it wavered as he questioned something for the first time in his life.\n\nSurely, the *tiny* wound on its chest from this three foot long sword wouldn't kill a thirty-foot-tall beast. Surely the flames would have made him a freshly cooked steak. *Surely* the dragon wouldn't stay still as he attacked it.\n\nBut most of all, why was he here? What was his name? Who was he here for? The princess? If so, where was she?\n\nSuddenly, a low hum shook the ground. The dragon stomped on the ground and rose with a slight jerky motion. Its head turned down toward the knight with a new, cold anger filled in its sleek golden eyes. It spread its wings and roared, but it was different. \n\nAs its mouth opened, the knight's heart dropped to see a familiarly colored pink fabric strewn between its teeth, stained with a crimson red. \n\n\"*Mortal,*\" the dragon looked down. \"*Did you honestly think you would be alive?*\"\n\nThe knight blinked. Dragons aren't supposed to talk. They're monsters.\n\n\"N-nay!\" the knight raised his sword with a shaky hand. \"I shall slay thy beastly soul, and rescue the fair princess!\"\n\nThe dragon threw his head back and laughed.\n\n\"*Why would I keep the princess alive? And first of all, for what reason would I even capture her?*\" it said between its laughing. \"*You are not meant to question*.\"\n\nThe noble man stood still for a second.\n\n\"*You are not supposed to have opinions*,\" the dragon continued. \"*You are supposed to follow the 'rules.'\"*\n\nThe knight gripped his sword tightly.\n\n\"*You're not in some fairy tale conjured by a little girl,\"* the monster reeled back with a newfound power rumbling in its stomach. \"*And this author isn't a particular fan of happy endings*.\" \n\n​\n\nHoly crap this is worse than my future"
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[WP] A brilliant thinker who is mad at an employee fires him one day, exclaiming, "My cleaning lady could do a better job than you!" You are his cleaning lady, and you have a new job now.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"I'm sorry, Mr. Landers, I'm not really qualified for this. I just mop the floors.\"\n\n\"Nonsense. I need a new lab assistant, and there's no way you could possibly be worse than the last one.\"\n\n\"I appreciate the offer, sir--\"\n\n\"Please, Sasha, just call me Nick.\"\n\n\"*Sir.* I appreciate the offer, it's just that--\"\n\n\"You'll do a wonderful job, I'm sure. It's nothing you can't--\"\n\n\"Please, sir, let me finish. It's just...I don't know how comfortable I am being hired into this job just so you could prove a point?\"\n\n\"Ah. Well, would making ten times your current wage make it any more comfortable for you?\"\n\n\"...It would make it positively cozy, Nick. What do you want me to do?\"\n\n\"Excellent. Since it's your first day, I'm going to start you off small. See those wires on that workbench over there?\"\n\n\"Uh huh?\"\n\n\"I need you to strip the ends and connect the wires by color.\"\n\n\"Got it. Do you need them soldered?\"\n\n\"Do you know how?\"\n\n\"Of course. I *am* a cleaning lady.\"\n\n\"*Excellent.* Yes, please do. When you're done, use them to finish wiring up the circuit over there.\"\n\n\"Those components should be in parallel, right?\"\n\n\"Right. Once that's done, we'll be able to take the magnesium samples--\"\n\n\"And apply them to the power core, got it. Interesting use of materials. I'll go get started.\"\n\n\"All right. If you need me, I'll be in my office, finalizing your paperwork.\"\n\n\"...Are you *sure* I'm cut out for this job? You're not going to regret hiring the woman who used to empty your wastebasket? It's not too late to get Steve back in here.\"\n\n\"Steve lost his chance when he tried to run thirteen volts through that component over there.\"\n\n\"But that would...Ooohhh! *That's* why the circuit needs to be re-wired. Wow. What a fucking moron.\""
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[WP] You’ve finally been accepted into the Guild of Super Villains Inc. Your first mission: Steal as many buckets of Halloween candy as possible without kids noticing.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Tom was overjoyed when he was finally accepted into the Guild of Supervillains. His acceptance letter was handed over to him at kindergarten earlier that day. \n\nHe had wanted to get in for more than two-thirds of his life. Ever since the clown at his kindergarten told him all about it. A secret training ground for up and coming villains, *the* organization to belong to if one wanted to make it big in life. \n\nTom was six now, the minimum age required by the guild for new inductees. For anyone under six, they claimed they couldn't distinguish between evil deeds and kids play.\n\nHe had trained hard for the past four years, making his parents' life a living hell as a result. It all started rather harmlessly with him refusing vegetables. From there Tom branched out. Crying for no reason at random times during day and night had been his favorite. It didn't stay limited to his parents either. Tom started antagonizing his sister, too. Hiding her dolls, throwing sand, giving her a little shove (though not too much, she wasn't supposed to get hurt) was on the menu.\n\nAll that had prepared him for the big day. Halloween. The letter he received had also included instructions for his first mission: 'Steal as many buckets of Halloween candy as possible without kids noticing.' He took the whole supervillain business very serious. Even going so far as to recruit his sister as his sidekick. \n\nTonight they would show the world what they were capable of!\n\n\n******\n\nr/John_writes\n"
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[WP] In an alternate universe, all of the Avengers were chosen in the snap, except one, a secret Avenger, who’s lost everything including his dog, that Avenger is John Wick.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"PART I\n\nJohn Wick looked down at his hands. His pistols had been effortlessly turned into thin chains that now secured him to the ground. Around him he saw were the remains of the epic but futile last stand of the Avengers. A battle which he had not contributed a single shot. Thor's hammer lay on the ground, as did the Captain's shield. Iron Man's suits, powered by their own AI cores, lay strewn about like piles of worthless discarded metal. The other Avengers, the Hulk, Widow, no sign of their presence other than ash that had now blown into the wind.\n\nThe muscular, terrifyingly powerful presence of Thanos loomed over him. John snarled, pulling at his chains, bound by the very metal of his preferred weapons. Just one shot, was all he needed.\n\n\"No, one shot is more than you are going to need, John.\" Thanos spoke, his voice calm, casual, firm, sad.\n\n\"I've left you alive, because like me, you are an agent of Death. You have a true understanding of what I have done, and we will meet again.\"\n\nWith that, the Mad Titan disappeared, leaving John to his chains, his anguish, and his tears.\n\n​\n\nPART II\n\nThree months had passed since what many people were calling the Singularity. It was the event that had led to countless lives lost, and the resulting sorrow, chaos, devastation, pain and tears wracked upon a reality, an universe, a world, and countless families. The day that the Avengers had lost, and Thanos succeeded in his master plan.\n\nJohn had always been a man of action, purpose and solutions. His discipline, talent and anger brought cold terror to his enemies, and those who had earned his vengeance. Yet now, for once, John gave in to the utter despair and hopelessness of the situation. What was he expected to be able to accomplish? He wasn't a super soldier, demi-god, or billionaire tech genius. He couldn't lift ten tonnes, control the mystic arts. He had his talents, but he didn't have any self delusions that he was anything more than a talented mortal, let alone one with super powers, and certainly not anything approaching an abstract power or cosmic entity.\n\nHe sat in his small but beautifully manicured and luxurious suite in the assassin guild hotel in Orchard Road, Singapore. He had chosen the small island republic to live out the remainder of his days, for a number of reasons. It had recovered the swiftest from the collapse and chaos, and had taken charge in leading many of the leaders of Asia into adapting, and rebuilding, after the Thanos Incident. The Singapore Government, and a few other countries, had outlawed the term \"Snap\" from being used to describe that terrible event, and this was something that John appreciated. The food was good, the people spoke english to a measure, and he also enjoyed the service and company of the resident hotel manager, Ah Yong. However there was one primary reason why he chose the small island republic as his refuge, and place to leave his past, his memories, his talents behind and start anew.\n\nNo Guns.\n\nIt was mid morning and as was his habit, he was enjoying his breakfast while catching up with the news. John enjoyed the feel of paper in his hands, and glanced at his newspaper. One headline caught his eye \"Swift and deserving justice meted out to vandals of Captail Marvel statue\". It seemed that the huge monstrosity of a statue that had been funded by various feminist organisations had been sprayed painted with the words \"Mary Sue\", and it seems that now such an abhorrent act would be met with capital punishment. John wondered at the turn of the concept of justice, curious that the MSM had chosen this event to focus on. The delightful smell of his morning chicken curry with basmati rice distracted him from his dark thoughts, but didn't prepare him in the least for the two images that suddenly appeared before him, far too quickly for him to react.\n\nThere were two floating, adult human sized heads, glaring it him with a frightening intensity. One had the look of a stern looking man in his late forties, bald headed, furrowed brow. Shaven, it seemed to glare with an intensity that at radiated power.The other head was purple in colour, and could only be described as inhuman. Distorted, with black eye sockets that had nothingness in them, it had a curled mouth.\n\nJohn's short stint in the Avengers had made him quite aware that the world was more than russian gangsters, drug cartels and rich powerful banking families. He knew instantly that he was dealing with something a little more exotic than what he would typically deal with on Earth, so he waited. His hands were not shaking, a good sign. He still had his control. His heart beat was stable, also a good sign. Two twin thoughts entered his mind, unbidded, unrelenting. Not unpleasant, but clear in its simplicity.\n\n\"Do you want revenge?\" Yes, was John's only answer. He knew what they were referring to. The Singularity was the only thing he tried not to think about but came to him. \"Then we have a job for you.\"\n\nJohn nodded. Two items began to materialise in front of him. The first was a rather ordinary looking black leather trench coat, with gold and silver sigils. The second was a a gun case made of dark red mahogony, looking about the size that could hold a single pistol.\n\n\"We will give you two gifts. Firstly, the coat. It has been imbued with the power contained in three artifacts. The first artifact, the board of the Silver Surfer, now deceased. The second artifact, the quantum bands of Quasar, not gone, but relieved of their use for a greater purpose. Finally, the Cloak of Levitation, from the late Doctor Strange. The power cosmic, the power of the mystic arts, the power of of the quantum realm have now been imbued into that coat. It a single entity with one purpose, to protect you from Thanos's awareness through the infinity gems. You will be able to reach him, undetected.\"\n\nJohn nodded, reaching out to feel the material. It felt like an ordinary coat of fine black leather, and looked nothing like the red cloak that Dr Strange had worn when he'd seen the wizard on a number of occasions.\n\n\"Our second gift is the location of Thanos. He will be in this very city, thirty days from now. You will find him at the highest building, and he will be there for twenty four hours. Thanos is, if anything, a being of immense hubris and self reliance. He consorts with death, and travels across the cosmic worlds. However he is drawn to this planet, for this is where he recovered the gems, where he faced and defeated the mortals who sought to thwart him. This is where you will find him.\"\n\n\"The last gift, the gun, does not come from us, nor do we know its strength, only from one that vouches it will serve its purpose.\"\n\nJohn nodded, and opened the gun case. In it was a ball and powder colt winchester, an ancient weapon. In the gun case were small bullet indents that held bullets meant for the weapon, and he counted five bullets. While the navy revolver looked to be in pristine condition, It was even more unremarkable than the coat. The handle was bare and unremarkable, but on the the barrel of the gun were inscribed the words \"In Veritate, Et Caritate\". He recognised those as latin, but wasn't sure what they meant, but he had other things on his mind now.\n\n​\n\n​\n\n​"
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[WP] An alien force begins attacking a medieval-age Earth, thinking their technologically inferior target will be easy pickings. However, the invaders come against an unusually powerful resistance in the form of magic-wielders, a phenomena that simply does not exist anywhere else in the universe.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"I say,\" and Hogarth did say, \"have you ever seen a Spaceship chase a Dragon?\" \n\nHogarth gazed up at the slowly disintegrating skies, a fleet of several thousand Juxtian Battle Ships slowly descending on medieval Earth, and he couldn't help but laugh. His laughing had absolutely nothing to do with the sky or the Spaceships, it was in fact completely unrelated. Hogarth had simply remembered a rather amusing joke, one of old Farknuckle's right-royal-corkers.\n\n\"Looks to me like it's the Dragon that's doing all that there chasing.\" Willis argued. He was stable hand to half the Kingdom of Freight Forward, and so had fair reason to be trouble by the coming armada. After all, if the Kingdom was burnt to the ground, where would he keep all the god damn goats? \n\nIt should be said, for the sake of avoiding any confusion, that goats are the preferred steed of choice in the lands of Freight Forward; firstly for their superior speed in comparison to slugs (the larger breed of slug that can be ridden) and secondly for the inexplicable way in which they can travel sheer rock faces unimpeded by both grip and gravity.\n\n\"No, no. You've got it all wrong.\" Hogarth took Willis by the shoulders and spun him a quarter turn round, yanking his head halfway down by his ear, \"Now look.\"\n\n\"Ah, I see.\" Willis didn't see, but he was far too invested in the light show to bother with Hogarth, who was still chuckling uncontrollably. \"What's so funny?\"\n\n\"Oh, just something someone said.\" Hogarth wiped a tear from his eye, then purposefully gathered up his robes, \"I suppose I should get going.\"\n\n\"Oh, yeah?\"\n\n\"Well, they'll need me to fight the alien invasion no doubt. I am, after all, the most powerful magician in all of Freight Forward.\"\n\n\"You are,\" Willis corrected, \"the *only* magician in all of Freight Forward. But really, I wouldn't worry.\"\n\n\"And why not?\" Hogarth folded his thin arms one over the other, shaking his chin uncontrollably.\n\n\"Because,\" Willis pointed far over the hill, \"help's already here.\"\n\nHogarth followed Willis' finger and couldn't believe what he saw. In the crest of the far hills there came a hundred men and women, all fancifully dressed in glowing socks and shoes and very little else. They were riding on the backs of Bears and Bees and Baboons too. Each one screamed at the invaders on high, throwing bolts of lightening from various wands and floating orbs. At the head of this magnificent sight rode the Queen of Freight Forward on a two-headed goat that seemed to hover just slightly over the green of the grass.\n\n\"Interfering, good-for-nothing, busy-body...\"\n\n\"Well, they're good for something.\" Willis interrupted, staring in awe as a dozen carefully placed lightening bolts transformed a lone Juxtian Battle Ship into a thousand tiny shards of metal. At least Willis assumed the ships were made from metal. Perhaps not iron or steel, it would have to be some new and exciting sort of metal. Aluminium, maybe. Yes, that sounded right.\n\nThe Juxtian Battle Ships, for want of a better description, looked like enormous tea pots. Steam erupted from the circular lid, inside of which the ship's command centre thrummed with life. The pot itself was lined with various probes and flashing antennae, the handle ebbing gently round the pot to keep it steady. And the spout was the Juxtian's masterfully designed weapon of war. A cannon capable of converting whatever nastiness was thrown inside into a solid lump of pure devastation. \n\nThe problem the Juxtian fleet currently faced was that no matter how fast they fired their cannons these solid lumps of pure devastation were reflected back at their ships, courtesy of those men and women in glowing socks and shoes.\n\n\"Don't reckon they expected us to put up much of a fight.\" Willis grinned, feeling content that his stables, and so too his goats, were safe.\n\nHogarth grunted in response. But sour as he was at being left out of this terribly thrilling affair he couldn't help but laugh to himself. Again, it had absolutely nothing to do with what was going on around him, he simply kept remembering that right-royal-corker of a joke. *Oh Farknuckle's, what a treasure you are.*"
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[WP] A space explorer is seeking a new world for their species. They end up veering off course into the event horizon of a black hole, finding that it contains a paradise like no other. The traveler learns that one could leave at any time, but those who do can never return.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Everyone calls me Spaceman, but nobody here knows how accurate that name is, man.\n\nYou see, my planet is dying. For this reason, I was sent out into deep space looking for somewhere habitable where my people could make a new home. My mission was to find a livable planet and report my findings back to base. If the new planet passed all our tests, we would wipe out the sentient population and begin anew.\n\nThere were ninety-nine other scouts like me who were sent out into the great beyond. Everyone has come up empty so far. Except me.\n\nI discovered Earth after I traveled through a black hole and was spit out in the Milky Way. Initially, I planned on reporting my findings back home, but a busted communicator prevented that. Having no way to phone home, I decided to do some advanced scouting and get to know the culture. I never anticipated just how rad that culture would be.\n\nArmed with my implanted translator technology, I set out to learn more about this alien world. It didn't take long for me to discover all it had to offer. These offerings mainly included alcohol and marijuana. Once tried, I couldn't get enough. We had none of these mind altering substances back home.\n\nSoon, rather then scouting the planet, I took up residence in San Diego and accepted work as a bartender. I told myself this was so I could study the personal lives of countless humans daily. Really, I just liked it because it was chill as fuck. It was here that I became a bit of a local legend. They called my Spaceman because I got high and forgot shit all the time.\n\nSlowly, my time spent scouting gave way to more and more recreational earth activities. It's hard to to stay motivated after chiefing a fat bone and shredding the surf all morning. Planning the annihilation of all my new friends would totally harsh my mellow.\n\nNow I'm sure you see my predicament. I was a military trained scout back home. My entire life was training with no time for recreation and fun. If I call home, my new awesome life will be ruined and every single human will die. If I don't call home, my ancestral planet and people will die. I love my life here too much to say goodbye, but also don't want to be responsible for the destruction of my people.\n\nFor now, my strategy has been simple: Get pretty high again and think about other stuff.\n\nIt was in the middle of one of these strategy sessions that everything changed.\n\nI had dozed off for a quick three hours when I heard a loud crash and jolted awake. I grabbed the bowl off my nightstand and took a diesel rip. Outside, I could hear commotion. There were screams and more loud crashes all around my pad. Feeling paranoid, I peeked through the blinds.\n\nOutside was chaos. In my brief look I saw smoke, fire, rubble and people aimlessly running in a panic.\n\n*\"Fuck that.\"* I thought and sprinted into my closet.\n\nI sat there curled up for a few minutes trying to ignore the sounds of the devastation outside. Then, all of a sudden, everything was silent. Completely silent.\n\nI slowly got out of the closet and made my way into the living room. I was heading towards the blinds for another look outside when I heard a knock at my front door. I tiptoed over to it and opened it just a crack. Standing on my front stoop was a scout I had known back on my home planet.\n\n\"Are you here, or did I accidentally put mushrooms in the weed jar again?\" I asked him.... and myself\n\n\"I'm really here.\" He replied\n\n\"How did you find me?\" I asked, trying to hide my bloodshot eyes\n\n\"With the GPS tracker that's implanted in every scout we sent. How did you not assume we had that? We gave you implanted translator technology and you didn't assume we could track your movements?\"\n\n\"Shit, man, good point.\" I said, looking around for that bottle of Visine\n\n\"Aren't you going to welcome me home?\" He asked me with a grin\n\n\"What do you mean *home*?\" I inquired suspiciously\n\n\"Oh we live here now. We just wiped out the sentient population real quick and now it's time to get settled! Figured I'd come see you first. It's been awhile.\" He said casually\n\nMy jaw dropped and I was speechless.\n\n\"Yeah, we've been watching you this whole time\" he told me \"Love your strategy by the way. Scouting the planet by becoming a member of society. I never would've thought of that.\" He chuckled\n\n\"Yes, that was definitely my strategy.\" I told him\n\nMy old colleague was unfazed and started looking over my shoulder into my apartment. He caught a glimpse of my surfboard leaning on the wall and said:\n\n\"Oh nice! I saw you use this a couple times. You gotta teach me how to uhh....how do you say.....shred?\""
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[WP] You are in a world where magic exists, and it takes long incantations you must memorize in order to properly cast a spell. You are the most powerful spellcaster in the world, however, you have alzheimers.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"***Note: I started writing this but it kinda went nowhere, but I'm going to share it anyway so the 15 minutes I spent on it isn't a complete waste.*** ***(Also, I haven't done many writing prompts at all before...)***\n\nWhere am I? Who are these people around me? Sure, they are nice, but who are they?! I turn to an elderly man seated next to me, and ask him the question, “where am I?” Shrugging he replies, “having lunch.” Great, so this guy isn’t helping me. I spot a significantly younger looking women across the room and begin to rise, but as I lean forwards to stand, my back hurts and I find I don’t have the strength to stand. How strange is this. Instead of disrupting everyone else in the room I decide to ask the elderly man sitting next to me, “where am I” I ask. He turns to me, and with a slightly puzzled expression replies, “having lunch.” Ok so that was helpful.\n\nSeeing a younger woman I across the room who appears to be casting a spell over some sort of soup I call out, asking where I am. She simply tells me that I am safe, which is very unhelpful yet slightly reassuring. I sigh, wondering how on earth I’m going to find my way to work on time. There are so many people at the hospital who need my help, who need me to cast spells of healing upon them. \n\nI take a look around me, noticing that it appears to look like a hospital. I ask the younger women who appears to be casting a spell on some sort of soup if this is the hospital. Laughing good naturedly she replies that no, it is in fact not the hospital. She then goes on to tell me that my son is coming to visit me today. This is what causes me the most confusion, why on earth does my son need to visit me, I am perfectly capable of going to visit him myself. After all, I am widely considered the most powerful spellcaster in the world.\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nWhirling around, I cast a spell that is essentially a more effective version of pepper spray, or at least I try to. I can’t quite remember the words, I end up saying *si vocare te venerunt et imbre imbre piperis I et digitos amentis hoc*, which merely causes this intruder to jump up and down a few times before swiftly removing the shoes from his feet. The surprise which we both feel at this attack and failed incantation allows me to take the first proper look at this intruder. \n\nLooking up, I see my son, he looks like a middle aged man, which is strange, but he is definitely my son. Leaping forwards I experience a sharp pain in my back, and my son embraces me apprehensively.\n\nMy son, who looks like a middle aged man for some unknown reason tells me not to cast spells, because, and get this, ‘I am too old and forgetful’! What does he think he’s playing at, 30 years old isn’t old is it?"
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[WP] Vampires, werewolves, zombies - they're all real, and universally feared for their violent attacks against humanity. Only thing is, they're all harmless. You're a serial killer who has spent years framing the supernatural as the source behind your gruesome murders.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I couldn’t sleep. I had been tossing and turning for what felt like hours. I picked up my phone and checked the time. 2 am. I was tempted to start watching some tv show or some movie on my phone but that would guarantee that I would be awake through the night. Another roar of thunder. I hated this kind of weather. With some willpower, I switched the phone off and tried again.\n\n**********\n\nI was woken up by a a sound of glass shattering. It was close. In fact it seemed to have been from the kitchen. I got out of my bed and headed that way. I saw pieces of shattered glass lying on the kitchen floor. I looked around but no one was there. Instinctively my hand went to where my holster should’ve been. But of course I was in in pyjamas and it wasn’t there. I became aware of breathing very close behind me. With a burst of speed I ran forward, jumping over the kitchen counter. I had to put some distance between me and whoever was behind me. When I was in a less vulnerable position, I could think of my next move. \n\nI expertly avoided the coffee table and picked up a vase lying on it as I passed through. I turned around to see where the attacker was. As I turned around I saw myself looking into two massive bloodshot eyes. And a snout, covered with blood. The thug bared it’s teeth in a terrifying grin. I brought down the vase on the thing’s head and ran. I ran through the curiously empty neighbourhood. I ran straight to the one place where I knew help would be available. The precinct. I could still hear the thing following me. Gaining. I entered the precinct and up the reception. Shiela should be on night duty and she would help. \n\n“Shiela!”\n\nShe sat there with her head down focused on her work. \n\n“Shiela, help me.” I touched her shoulder and she fell back on her chair. I could only see red where he throat should have been. \n\nI cried out and ran inside. I looked around me, chills running down my spine. Instead of officer Reynolds, someone or something else stood there. It had fangs and blood dripping from its pale face. There was a officer Karen but instead of her usual smile, her face was a mess of dead skin as she chewed on what seemed like a brain. Detective Brock looked at me. But that thing wasn’t detective Brock. It was some sort of a troll. I looked around the precinct, where I had spent majority of my waking time. All the faces I recognized had been replaced by monsters. These monsters. \n\nI heard the heavy breathing behind me again. It had caught up to me. It had caught up to me and there was no escape. No one would help me. \n\nI ran again into an empty meeting room. I shut the door behind me and did something I hadn’t done in years. I prayed. \n\nThe thing knocked on my door. I could see the door creaking. This thing was strong. It would be able to break the door down pretty quickly. \n\nI closed my eyes and prayed. \n\n***********\n\nI woke up in my bed in a pool of sweat. The knock on the doors continued. I wiped my brow and went to the front door. Officer Jacob stood there. The lights of the squad car behind him filled me with feelings of dread. \n\n“Mason. They have been trying to reach your phone but couldn’t get through. I was in the area patrolling so I figured i’d come in.”\n\n“What’s up Jacob?”\n\n“There’s been another one.”\n\n“Damn it. Where?”\n\n“On the corner of 5th and main. By the trinity church.”\n\n“Near a church? Is nothing sacred anymore?”\n\n“The world is going to hell in a hand basket my dear friend. You should head out there. Your partner is already on the way.”\n\nI flashed back to my dream. The thing with it’s thick fur and blood on its face. \n\n“Can you call the precinct and let hem know I am in my way. I’ll directly head to the crime scene. Miles can meet me there.”\n\n“I hope you have a strong stomach. They tell me it’s a particularly gruesome one.”\n\n“They always are.” \n\nI shut the door and went inside. I quickly washed my face and got dressed. The dream had felt too real. He’s heart was still beating quick. I picked up my gun. Holding it always brought me comfort. I felt at ease when I could touch it. I felt safe.\n\nI got in my car and headed downtown. \n\nThey had cordoned off the area. I got out of my car and flashed my badge to the officer on the perimeter. \n\n“Oh go in officer Mason. I know you well enough without the badge.”\n\n“Can’t trust anything these days Larry. Better check everyone’s badge.”\n\nWith that piece of wisdom, I lifted up the procedural tape and went towards the crime scene. \n\nMy “partner” was already there. Brought in initially as a trial from the supernatural division, Miles was a vampire. He had proven himself as a good asset and was the chief’s golden boy. I was no bigot and was okay with these monsters becoming a bigger part of the society. But that still didn’t mean I had to be happy to be stuck with one as my partner. \n\n“Hello Mason.”\n\nI nodded my head. “Miles. What do we have here?”\n\n“The call came in a couple of hours ago. There was an early delivery to the church. They saw something in the street. Took a closer look ended up barfing all over our crime scene. The called 911.”\n\n“How long has he been dead. Do we know who it is?”\n\n“No id on the body. Seems to be one of the homeless from the area. The church gives them a coffee and some bagels in the morning. Could have cone in early to be first in line.”\n\nHe takes a sip of red liquid. I know it’s actually a fruit punch but I can’t help but think how alike it looks to blood. \n\nGod Damned vampires. \n\n“The body is unusually pale for someone dead for only what 4-5 hours at the most?” \n\n“He had his blood drained.”\n\nHe looked at me square in my eyes as if he knew what my next question would be. He dared me to ask it. But I wasn’t going to back down. Not today. \n\n“Any bite marks?”\n\n“It wasn’t a vampire.”\n\n“We’ll see.”\n\n“Look Mason, I...”\n\n“Miles I am still the senior here. I know all about how you vampires don’t really need blood and can survive on synthetics and whatever. This is not a social commentary on whether I am biased towards vampires or elves or...” ,my dream flashed through my head again, “... werewolves. I have a situation in front of me and this seems to be the most obvious solution. And more often that not, the most obvious solution is the right one.”\n\nI hunched down next to the body. Carefully I unwrapped the scarf. \n\n“New scarf. Seems expensive. Doubtful a homeless person would have enough money to buy one. Something to look into later. Note that down Miles.”\n\nThe last layer had blood on it. As I finished unwrapping I looked at my partner with a triumphant look on my face. Two teeth mark. An inch apart. Blood was had run down the two holes. But it seemed obvious. \n\n“It was a vampire.”",
"Ever heard of monsters? They're real. \n\nAt least more real than my pride. Besides, what kind of murderer needs *pride?* \n\nI've been framing monsters for my murders my entire life. So much so that they have gone into hiding to escape the punishment of a crime they didn't commit. They've tried to stop me, but they just don't have the strength.\n\nVampires drink tomato juice instead of blood, and they don't like garlic because it makes their breath smell bad. Werewolves just all want to be the first one to catch the largest ball of them all; the moon. And don't get me started on the zombies. They're all fancy make-up artists from the dead that just want to liven things up. Besides, their bones will shatter if you just kick them in the ankle.\n\nBut today, I've pushed my luck to the limit.\n\nThey've captured me with little tricks and gimmicks, using their magic tricks and strategies. \n\nAnd they want me to be their first real victim."
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[WP] You’re driving downtown when you hear the radio announce the identity of a serial killer responsible for committing a triple murder. You’re speechless. You know that the right thing to do is to drive straight to the police station, but your partner in the passenger seat is all you’ve ever had.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I gripped the steering wheel so tight, I was certain my knuckles would pierce through my skin. Colin was calm. He leaned his head against the passenger window, watching the trees and billboards flutter by on the side of the road. I was desperate for a morsel of his tranquility, anything to quiet my mind.\n\nRoute 50 would take you from Parkersburg to Cincinnati in a little over three hours, its tree covered country road felt like camouflage, we could cruise around in relative anonymity in my gray Civic. Out of sight, out of mind, was our motto as we pilfered through house after house looking for anything at all we could grab. It started off as playful mischief- breaking into our neighbors houses while they were at work and stealing knick-knacks from curio cabinets and living room credenzas, but quickly grew into something more nefarious- electronics, money, prescription drugs, but only the good stuff. \n\nOnce our criminal cravings grew we knew we had to carry on far away from our home, that is how Route 50 became our pipeline. Easy in, easy out, home in a few hours time. *We're off to see a movie*, our favorite lie we would tell our parents. Have a good time they replied as they waved to us from the front porches built by the American dream. \n\nBut everything began to fall apart when the murders began.\n\nI scanned the radio looking for anything to cut the silence to relieve my nerves. We burned Colin's blood-soaked clothing just east of Jackson, in a field several feet into the woods. I still could smell the fire in my hair. \n\nThe hits of today sounded tinny through the car stereo, I tried to remember the lyrics of the song that was playing but the words escaped me. As the song ended the radio played out its call letters signalling the top of the hour followed by the news report. \n\n\"Milford police are responding to a triple homicide on Sycamore Avenue that occurred around ten p.m. last night. Police say that they have identified the suspect to be eighteen year old Colin Davis of Dayton\" \n\nColin slammed the radio off and then leaned back into his seat. \n\nWe were slowly making our way into downtown Chillicothe when we were stopped by a traffic signal at Main and Walnut. The bulb's red glow illuminated the interior of the car and doused Colin in its light. I looked over to him, hot tears already burning my cheeks. I have never seen anyone look as beautiful as he did in that moment. The police station was approaching. It would only be a matter of time before we were caught, it may be best to just turn ourselves in. But yet, in that moment it was just Colin and me. I placed the car in park and we turned toward each other. I was amazed at the magnetic pull we had toward each other, an unspoken bond which drove our bodies to be closer. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me. We kissed, with passionate desperation. \n\nPolice cars lined the streets, I knew the station had to be close. The responsible thing would be to turn ourselves in. In a few days, Colin's name and face would appear on television screens across the country. The reporters will refer to him as a serial killer once they find out about the others. Our consequences will undoubtedly come to fruition, but for now I placed the light turned green and I kept on driving.",
"Before I can even decide, he grabs the steering wheel and yanks. Hard. His foot stomps down on mine, the skin bare to his gravel-laden work boot. I groan. Quietly. The girls are asleep in the back. \n\nWe cross three lanes of traffic and exit the highway. I am thankful it’s so late at night. I let go of the wheel with my right hand and dig my nails into his forearm. \n\n“Don’t scare the kids. Please.” His pressure on the gas eases up, then he slowly pulls his leg back over the console. He doesn’t let go of the wheel. I don’t let up on the gas. My foot stings where the sole of his boot cut it. \n\nI can feel my heart throbbing. Hard. Fuck. I need to calm down. \n\nI try to focus on keeping the gas where he had it, and I put my hand back on the steering wheel, gently. I take a slow, deep breath and turn my face towards him. \n\nI try to look at him with gentleness. Calm him by loving him, right? I imagine the last five minutes didn’t happen. I imagine we aren’t going ninety miles an hour. I imagine the radio isn’t repeating his name. I can lock all of it away to manage the danger, and focus on breathing while I keep the gas pedal almost floored. Got it. \n\nHe is dangerous. He murdered those girls. The thoughts intrude. The radio said Ryan is the serial killer. He’s so dangerous. \n\nThen, louder: He’s still the man I married. He’s still the man I married. The thought repeats like a mantra. I’m convincing myself he’s safe. Maybe it’s mistaken identity. Another man with his name. It’s definitely not our Ryan. \n\nHe reaches over with his right hand and turns off the radio. We sit in the silence and I try to look at him gently. \n\nThen, I can see his jaw muscles bouncing under his skin. He’s clenching his teeth. I could use your help if you can hear me God. The clenching speeds up. That’s a bad sign. One of his tells, when he’s pissed. He murdered those girls, they were just a little older than...\n\n“Just drive us home.” He is calm. Cold. Measured. The clenching has suddenly stopped. He pulls his hand back, letting go of the steering wheel while I snap my eyes back to the road. \n\nIt takes a minute to get my bearings, but the next sign is for our exit, and my lizard brain takes over the driving. \n\nThe sweat on the back of my neck catches a breeze and I fight to suppress a shudder. He can’t see me react. I can cover that up. \n\n“We’ll be there in five minutes.” I hear a quiver in my voice. I need to stop talking. Why did I speak?\n\nHe heard the quiver, “Are you fucking *scared* of me?” He’s less calm. Less measured. \n\n“No. My foot is killing me.” I let out as much stress with it as I dare. Anger at the foot - he’ll understand that. “You could have told me what to do, instead of stomping me.” I say it before I realize the bomb it is. \n\n“I could have, what? Stop whispering. Speak to me like an adult.” Shame. Every word dripping with it. He’s scared. He wants me to feel ashamed with him. \n\n“Sorry. My foot hurts. That’s it. I’m really sorry. You know me and pain. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you. Sorry.” The feeling of exhaustion washes over me and I can feel myself disassociating. \n\n“Better. You always overreact.” Centered and controlled, he can stay calm if I can stay subservient. We are centered and controlled, we are addressing this like the problem it is. We can treat it like a set of tasks to be completed. \n\nHe murdered all those girls. Little girls like our girls. That can’t be true. Right? It can’t be true. He’s mean, but he couldn’t kill them. He wouldn’t kill us. Would he kill us?\n\nI feel a chasm of dark tar open in my belly. Did he kill them so he wouldn’t kill us?\n\nStop sign. Moving my foot to the brake cracks the barely formed scabs on my foot open again. I focus on the pain to push down my thoughts. \n\nI make the final turn towards the house. We’ll be home in a minute. I focus on my foot as our lights pour down the late spring growth along the road. Everything is green, even the road is coated with a layer of green mold. Three black stripes show where cars have split its growth down the street. \n\n“Slow down.” He barks at me in a whisper, through his teeth like a growling dog. I comply and see what he already saw, lights on the trees. Red and blue and white. Strobing like a secret, woodland rave."
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[WP] If you clap three times and hope hard enough, the dead end will open.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Wolves, or rather, wolf-like Eldritch Horrors, were running down the hall.\n\nThe person, Ren, was in quite the predicament. They were finished with their dungeon quest, and got the item needed, but decided to stick around a little longer. They were out of magic ammo for their sword-gun, and their status stated critical HP.\n\nHow long had it been? It felt like centuries since they’d seen the Flicker Base.\n\nSeveral cheesy mental monologues later, luck was not on Ren’s side.\n\n\nA dead end.\n\n\nSuddenly, an idea that was not only embarrassing, but insane, sprung into their head.\n\n\n*Clap! Clap! Clap!*\n\n\nThey used a spell requiring no PP.\n\n\n“Hope’s Beacon!”\n\n\n*Fwooo....*\n\n\nA door was right there, leading out of the dungeon. Ren ran straight into it, the door disappearing behind them.\n\nThe wolves looked where they heard the noises, but only found a dead end. Growling, the wolves padded away.\n\n\nBack at the Flicker Base, Ren told their colleagues about this odd method.\n\n\n“But Renny, how does that even work?”, inquired Kiki, a sword user.\n\nRen just shrugged.\n\n\n“Another question....despite the fact that I am a cleric, and I am a long ranger like you....doesn’t mean that I know Hope’s Beacon. How will we do it if we aren’t Hunter-class like you?”, asked another, whose name was Thorne.\n\nAfter a period of silence, Ren decided to speak.\n\n“Maybe hope in your head?”\n\nMumbles were heard amongst the crowd, but one stood out.\n\n“Ren can speak?!?!?”\n\n\n(Yeah, this is based off those mystery dungeon genre games. Feedback, maybe? Thanks.)",
"The thief quickly clapped his hands together one, two, three times, and the wall faded out of existence behind him. He passed through where the wall had just been and clapped again, three times. The wall faded back into existence as if it had never gone.\n\n\n\"Where did he go?\" Asked a security guard on the other side of the wall. The thief chuckled silently as he crept away.\n\n\nThe mansion was huge, full of hallways and, most importantly, dead ends. He had tripped an alarm getting inside, and that called security. Although they've been having a tough time catching him. Especially since their key strategy was to back him into a corner, amateurs.\n\n\nThe thief silently climbed up the stairs. He finally approached the room where the riches were sure to be held. The door was locked, of course. Nothing three claps and a little bit of hope couldn't solve.\n\n\nHe clapped again upon entering the room, the door materialized back where it was before. He snuck towards the large safe, clapped three times, and the door vanished before his eyes.\n\n\nHe started stuffing gold watches, checks and jewelry into the sacks he had brought along. He then opened a window, and chucked every last bag of valuables out, down to where his crew was waiting to pick it up. \n\n\nSecurity bust down the door, guns drawn, but the thief was too quick. He clapped once, twice, three times, and the back wall dissapeared. He jumped down into the darkness, just as the wall materialized again, blocking the clever thief from the security's gunfire.\n\n\nThis job was full of dead ends"
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[WP] After a time travel accident you end up in the far future. English long forgotten. You are feared as an elder god.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"After what felt like an entire year of muscle cramps compressed into a minute the blinding light started to clear, the ringing was still in deafening Captain Caleb Evans, the floor beneath him felt the same as the launch pad, that was the only thing that was familiar, the clean and white lab had been replaced the walls blackened under neglect, the room was filled with candles and the haze of incense, spirals and symbols adorned near every inch of the chamber painted in a variety of neon paints. Caleb looked around the room, where the hell was the rest of the team? What the hell happened? Before he could bury himself in questions a shriek sounded behind him, Caleb pivoted and brought his rifle to his shoulder in a single fluid motion, decades in special forces meant that any weapon was an extension of his body \r\n\r\n\"On ta gads I ano wotee!\" The source of the noise was a woman, small and petite her body covered in neon paint, she wore a pair of safety goggles and the remains of a tattered lab coat\r\n\r\n\"What is going on? Where am I?\" Caleb scanned the room, his training instinctively assesses sing the situation, looking for threats, evaluating his escape routes, the nearest cover he could get to, the woman dropped to her knees and threw her hands up in a praise, singing out in a shrill high pitch.\r\n\r\n\r\n\"Shhhh, not one sound,\" Caleb closed the distance and covered the woman's mouth with one hand, the muzzle of his rifle nearly pressed against her throat but she had gotten two loud cries out, he could hear more movement outside, his mind raced trying to find a solution, in a instant he slung his rifle, drew his pistol and wrapped his free arm under the woman’s throat, positioning her towards the door that began to glow brighter and brighter under a mix of flashlights and flame torches, Caleb struggled to not lift the tiny woman clean off the ground, his 6\"4 and 220 lbs of muscle made using the barely 5'1 and maybe 115 lbs woman impossible as a shield, he would just have to hope he had a valuable hostage.\r\nFinally the door burst open as a crowd of neon painted bodies spilled in to the room, all chanting jubilantly, they seemed to almost ignore Caleb and his hostage as they surrounded the Travel platform, they were all dressed in patchwork rags, they all dropped to their knees in sync and began chanting a steady chorus of gibberish\r\n\r\n\"What the fuck am in?\" Caleb whispered to himself, every single one of the people that entered the room was petite, as if malnourished, the tallest one stood no taller than 5\"5, the woman he held seemed to be struggling and thrashing as hard as she could but he could barely feel her efforts before he could question the bizzarity of the situation any further a single figure approached him. The young man wore a ragged pair of slacks and a security helmet, the face visor blackened and cracked, he stood nervously in front of Caleb he pointed two fingers at Caleb, then touched his own forehead with an open palm then patted his own chest twice and finally made a his fingers walk across his other arm, Caleb was shocked \"Motherfucker,\" Caleb breathed, they didn't speak any languages Caleb recognised by the knew the hand signals his team used, Caleb let go of the woman but kept his pistol in his hand, the woman fell to the floor and seemed to tremble as she laughed and hugged herself.\r\n\r\n\r\nThe man in the visor lead Caleb through the facility, it was dilapidated and for the most part completely devoid of power. The state of the people had seemed to devolve into a primitive state. The people seemed to be divided in to clans designated by the colour of the neon paint on their body, most of them only had a single colour painted on their body, a few had two or three but the ones with the full five colours like the travel chamber where increasingly rare. The tour stopped abruptly at a large hanger, it was filled with rows of meticulously maintained hydroponic crops, a dozen people moved in between the rows, carefully examining each plant and delicately harvesting a variety of fruit and vegetables, the guide stopped and beamed with pride as he watched Caleb’s reaction \"Ha we hon ta wi o ta forunaz?\" The guide looked at Caleb hopefully, every second dragged on as Caleb tried to guess what the guttural barking meant, a simple nod elicited a loud whoop from the guide and he guided him further into the facility. \r\n\r\n\r\nThe final destination was a small office, it was Dr. Shen's office, he was the lead field researcher on the Travel team, the guide gently opened the door and stepped aside, Caleb took the hint and entered the office. Inside it was pristine, like it had maintained unlike the rest of the facility, in it was a simple wooden desk, a filing cabinet and that damn leather chair, on the desk was a golden photo frame with a piece of paper weighted underneath it, Caleb picked up the photo frame, it was a faux gold plastic frame but it was a photo of the Travel team right before they turned on the machine, the eight of them all stood for the photo, four scientists, Dr Shen, Dr Eckhart, Dr de Lise and Dr Volkova all dressed in their field fatigues, each of them unrivalled in their individual fields and in stark contrast to the clean and jovial science team was his team, Eliina Vitaala their marksman, the tiny Finnish girl was stoic and unshakable even in the fiercest firefights, Hector Torres, the Brazilian giant was their squad medic, a veteran of the BOPE firefights in the favela's he always seemed to have a cigar in his mouth and lastly was Elizabeth White, \"Rabbit\" was fast and no lock could keep her out, the infiltration specialist could open any door, with either pick, hack or plastic explosive. Caleb set the picture down, and picked up the note under the photograph, horrified by the words he read.\r\n\r\n\r\n\"If you are reading this then I, Dr Jilong Shen wish to extend my deepest apologies and sympathies. The expedition was a success and failure at the same time. I have been sent forwards in time. The rest of my team scattered, I can only hope they have been sent further forward and that their blood isn't on my hands. From my estimations I have been pushed forwards 500 years, a terrible cataclysm has befallen our species, the survivors are nothing more than savages. At first I kept my distance and merely observed, avoiding interference as much as I possibly could........ but when I learned the truth of my position in time I knew I had to intervene and guide those I could back to humanities glory. I spent years using the knowledge of my past life to help these people re-establish humanity, I finally had practical use for my anthropology degree, laws and hierarchy have been established as well as roles and the basics of society. Near 20 years since I arrived in the future I was joined by Dr de Lise, her expertise in botany and agriculture gave rise to an huge hydroponics operation that further helped establish our new society, in honour of her arrival they have started colouring themselves in bright green colouring, those from my arrival use blue. Another 20 years later and we were joined by SGT Torres, his expertise in medicine (even if it is strictly traumatic triage care) has helped establish crude but highly effective medical practices. I have left a dozen blank books for each of us, if my theory is correct then the next team member will be arriving in the next 20 year interval, my time is nearly out as I write this. In the file cabinet I have left as many blank books as I could, please I beg you, record everything for those who come next, this may not be the job we signed up for but it is out duty to lead these people through this darkness. Humanity my survive and it must prosper again to do so.\"\r\n\r\n\r\nCaleb dropped the letter and raced over to the file cabinet, in it he saw five different names on five different books but he had no idea if who was alive or if in fact any of them were still alive, his train of thoughts came grinding to a halt as a voice clear as anything spoke to him \r\n\r\n\"Ah Captain it has been to long, good to see you again.\"",
"I looked at prof. Hitchkin's lab, it was full of dancing lights and switches. The walls, lined with crisp black electrical wires over the pristine white wall which all led towards the \"temporal gate\" or \"tete\" as the old man liked to call it(his mind was scientific not linguistic I might add)\n\nI was instructed to go through the gate, where prof. H's colleague will meet me, a week from now, and he will send me back to this time.\n\nI was equipped with the best equipment money could buy, and after a grueling hour I looked like an astronaut, my suit filled with machine made oxygen, and radiation protective gear.\n\nI went through the portal and when I passed through it.\n\nThe first thing I noticed was that I am not in a lab.\n\nThe second thing I noticed is that the sky is unusually orange.\n\nAnd the third thing I noticed was the dirt road I was standing on, it was brown and gray with streaks of green.\n\nI knew nit what I should do, but having to gates in sight, I began walking on the dirt road, hoping it would lead me somewhere.\n\nI saw a small village in the distance, perhaps they would tell me how to get back to York.\n\nAs I became closer to the village, I saw that the people there were not like anything I have ever saw, their limbs mutated and their heads disfigured, I turned on my dark screen mode on my astrohelmet, so they would be less frightened.\n\nI approached one of the villagers, he was an older male, with barely a single white hair remaining on his head. His scrawny bodies didn't hide his many disformoties. \"Hello! Do you perhaps know how I reach York my good sir?\" I ask.\n\nThe old man looked at me and ran faster than I expected, yelling incoherent mumbling of which I understood only a single word \"deus\"\n\nI walked towards the center of the village, its largest building as my north I began walking.\n\nEach door and window shut before me, each face cowering in fear from my sight. Truly a bizzare situation.\n\nI have opened the wooden double doors of the large building, and was greeted by a troop of spear wielding mutants. They all yelled with their weird language, and all pointed towards a single white door.\n\nI walked towards the door, knocking on it before entering. Inside a saw two of them. One wore fine-ish clothes, and the other wore white and had a staff with a deformed skull on top of it.\n\nThe fine clothed person began talking to me, I understood not a word he said. \n\"I don't understand what you are saying man, I just want to get home!\" I yelled, my patience wore thin and I just wanted to catch dinner with my dog.\n\nBoth of them ducked in fear and began crying.\n\nOnly then I had noticed the framed yellow newspapers and rusty signs. I could barely read it from the far but I did saw a single word \"nuked\". I walked towards the newspaper, I felt their eyes staring at my back as I walked.\n\n\"The greater American Federation has nuked the trans-asian empire as retaliation, Billions dead\"\nMy hands shook, I peered at the date of the newspaper \"2573, July 6th\".\n \n\"Is this real? What date is today? Where am I ? Who are you?\" I barraged both of them with questions.\n\nI saw the growing resolve in the priest's eyes as he handed me a dusty old book. The title was barely legible, but it was \"Weird tales, 1928 edition, featuring stories from H.P Lovecraft\" as I looked up, the priest pointed to the book and then me, He uttered a single word \"Cthullu\".\n\n-------------\nThis ended up a bit long, might edit it a bit later.\nC&C welcome, as always",
"One word is all it took. They could not comprehend. \n\n“Hello?” \n \nThe man I spoke to (if he could even be called a man?) first looked deeply confused, intrigued even, but not for very long. As he tried to understand his eyes first darted to every extreme possible, then back into his head. His fists squeezed until trickles of blood leaked out, and finally he collapsed. I can only assume that it was a heart-attack. \n\nBack then I was the one who did not understand, how could a word-hello of all things- destroy a man this way? I’d like to say I learned quickly and never spoke again, but I did not. 1000s died, for they only have to hear me, and they tried to stop me. They could not. They tried to appease me, but the only thing I wanted was companionship. This they cannot provide.\n\nI have no one here. No one to confide in, to stay up on dark nights discussing worries I could never share under the scrutiny of daylight. I am trapped here, and the muzzle on me would be less suffocating if it were real. \n\nYesterday it took only one word. \n\n“Help”\n\nThe poor girl nodded. My hopes soared. But she too died like all the rest. I am a God here, but I am alone."
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[WP] When you touch objects and people you can detect and analyze aspects of their composition. You use this as a doctor to diagnose nearly imperceptible diseases/problems. You begin to notice a subtle, yet powerful shift in the chemical makeup of your patients.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"People always tell me I was a moma's boy. When I was in Grad school, the minute that I had discovered the composition of the Earth I had driven back home to tell her, so she could be the first person to know about it.\n\nYears later, they'd ask me how I diagnosed lead buildup in so many young children. How did I collect data from millions of people? How could I ever know? Of course I'd claim it was a team of grad students who were my lackeys, and we'd all laugh, but then there's something I don't tell them, that I could feel their compositions. That I knew in each and every one of the reporters that they had dangerously high amounts of lead in their system. That I went to a jailhouse and saw Crazy Billy, and I saw in him that madness and knew instantly that fateful poison.\n\nAnd a fat load of good that knowledge did me. It took twenty years to get this bill up for consideration. Knowledge is power, but apparently the big lead companies didn't like power, especially not from a little guy like me. Oh, so I was only a geochemist, not even a doctor! How could I know?\n\nWell, tomorrow I'll have conclusive proof. They laugh at me now, but in time, all shall rue my name, Clair Cameron Patterson, discoverer of the age of the earth and the destroyer of those who cause harm to it."
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[WP] You’re an astronaut who is about to land on a recently discovered planet. Expecting to find massive, terrifying aliens that are like gods compared to us, you are very disappointed to find that the life on this planet is just little blobs that just learned to how form a civilization last week.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The planet was beautiful. It was covered in endless ocean. What little land did exist had countless beauties. Deserts with dunes as far as the eye could see. Lush green forests teeming with creatures. Towering snowy mountain ranges. In fact, the little blobs were probably the least interesting of what I had seen. Until they saw me.\n\nI towered above them. Each, about the size of my foot. They slowly approached when they saw me. They had no eyes but I could somehow tell they were looking at me. They formed a circle around me, then froze. I spit at the ground, testing for a reaction. They all gathered around my saliva. And one by one, each absorbed a tiny drop. And then they transformed.\n\nOne by one, the morphed, as if sculpted from clay, changing shape and forming into something. They remained small, not reaching past my shins, but they took my own form. They looked like me. Argostian. Had my spit’s DNA given them what they needed to mimic me?\n\nIn the coming days, I became their God. They built temples to me, covering them with murals depicting my descent from the heavens. Then they built pyramids. Some were enslaved, forced to labor under the sun. I felt a bit guilty watching as they struggled to moved around what to them were gargantuan stones. I picked them up like small blocks and arranged them into a pyramid for them. \n\nI wish I could have stayed, but my expedition was only for a week. I returned to my ship and took off into the planet’s beautiful blue sky.\n\nIn my ship, commanding officer Dinsley sent a transmission from HQ, “Captain Storn, did you read any signs of life on your mission?”\n\nI hesitated. I could be the god of my own planet if I wanted. Then I responded, “Negative, sir. Earth is devoid of life.”\n\nI would be back soon."
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[WP] Every week you go to your local bar for a drink and one night you meet a stranger there who claims to be a god. At first you thought he was joking and laugh it off until one night he insists on showing you proof.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Miracle?\" Diego asked with a beer stein at his lips. After the question, he took a large swig to consider the question. \"Don't worry 'bout it, it's on me,\" he said with a polite grin. The scraggly stranger shook his head.\n\n\"No can do, Mr.\" the man said. He returned Diego's smile and showed off two rows of dirty, yellow teeth. \"You bought a miracle,\" he raised his own full mug; bought by Diego. \"That means you get a miracle.\" Diego chuckled. He faced the stranger and looked him up and down. He looked, and smelled, homeless. Diego decided the fastest way to get through this was to just get it over with.\n\n\"Alright,\" Diego smiled. \"You've been telling everyone you're god for the past few nights.\" Diego slid a cup of water on the bar closer to the stranger. \"Let's see some proof, make some wine.\" The stranger shook his head and pushed the water glass away.\n\n\"I'm not *that* God. I'm just an average supreme being that likes to...,\" he gestured at the rags that kept him decent. \"...[dress down and spend time chatting with](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/azggdg/wp_you_see_a_homeless_man_with_a_sign_i_do/)...,\" he nodded at Diego. \"...lesser beings.\"\n\n\"*Riiight.* Okay then,\" Diego held his hands in front of the stranger with his palms upward. \"Miracle me.\"\n\n\"Coming up!\" The old man hopped off his barstool with gusto and looked Diego up and down. He walked to one side, then the other keeping his focus on the portly man that bought him a beer. After a few moments, he furrowed his brow, started mumbling to himself, and kept pacing behind Diego. Enough that he started to feel uneasy. Diego was about to turn around and tell him to forget it when the man sat down on his barstool again with a heavy sigh.\n\n\"Not the first time it's happened,\" the stranger said to himself. \"Still surprising,\" he mumbled.\n\n\"Have I been blessed with a miracle yet?\" Diego asked. He knew the answer but was curious about how the man would respond. The stranger shook his head and reached across the bar.\n\n\"As it turns out your life is right on track. You don't need a miracle, there's nothing I can do for you.\" Diego patted the man on his back.\n\n\"No problem, I understand,\" Diego said. He was surprised that he felt disappointment growing in his stomach. Despite the unbelievable situation a tiny bit of hope grew in him. The stranger shook his head.\n\n\"You know,\" he placed the glass of water in front of Diego. \"Normally I don't care if people believe me. But I want you to trust me when I say your life is on track. You're doing great, Diego,\" the stranger returned the gesture by patting Diego on the back. Diego could not remember introducing himself, but the man kept talking. \"I can't give you a miracle, but I can still prove my powers,\" he pointed at the glass full of clear liquid to draw Diego's attention. A tiny black circle, about the size of a quarter, appeared in the glass above the water. The homeless god guided his finger from the top of the cup down to the bottom; the black hole moved in sync with his finger.\n\nThe black circle traveled through the water, changing it as it passed. It reached the bottom and the stranger pulled his hand away; the black dot disappeared. The clear water had been replaced with a rich maroon-colored liquid.\n\n\"I'm not *that* god, but I know his tricks.\"\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\nThank you for reading! I’m responding to prompts every day. This is year two, day #133. You can find all my stories collected on my subreddit ([r/hugoverse](https://www.reddit.com/r/hugoverse)) or my [blog](https://hugoverse.info/). If you're curious about my universe (the Hugoverse) you can visit the [Guidebook](https://hugoverse.info/2017/11/25/hugoverse-guidebook/) to see what's what and who's who, or the [Timeline](https://hugoverse.info/2017/10/23/hugoverse-timeline/) to find the stories in order."
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[WP] Gas has covered the earth for centuries. Anyone who enters is not seen again. The remainder of humanity lives in slowly failing airtight cities. Today, hope has returned. A figure was seen in the gas.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Three hundred and twenty one years ago, it started. Large clouds of mist appeared over the the Indian Ocean. Reported at first as weather anomaly, until ships started turning up empty of crew. Finding out they had past thru the clouds weather aircraft where dispatched to investigate. Most didn’t come back, the few that did the crew did not remember the passage thru the cloud. Looking at flight paths it was found that only limited exposure to the cloud mitigated the impact. \n\nThe clouds where expanding, ships where having hard time avoiding them as they spread to all oceans of the world. Testing the mist had found it was biological, made up of very simple algae like creatures light enough to float. But nothing then and since has explained the effect of the mist. Then as the mist began to envelope islands at first global efforts to evacuate worked. Until a large cloud flowed into the Philippines. Many were evacuated but with only weeks of warning it was only part of the population was able to flee. \n\n\nUntil this point only ships unlucky enough to get caught in clouds had been affected but oddly if the ships cleared the mist on there own power or by drifting no bodies had ever been found. When mist which did clear in some areas of the islands, scientist investigated and found no bodies. This pattern continued until this day, no one has ever returned from the mist, not alive or dead. Then the true terror of the mist was revealed, during an investigation into the mist with sealed suits several scientist. One cut their suit, a large gash allowing the mist to flow in. The others grabbed the man hoping to save him or at least observe the effects. But he became incoherent, shook and began to dissolve. Turning into mist in the suit in minutes, and flowing out the gash that had allowed the mist in.\n\t\nThe mist covered more and more of the oceans and made frequent incursions further into land over the next 50 years. As the world turned all its resources to building domes, and lucky fled to the stars. Around twelve thousand domes where created, with filters and self-contained systems able to clean the mist from the air.\nIn the first years many of the domes failed as the mist went from a part time thing outside to never clearing. Another 50 years from when the domes were completed about two thirds remained. The failure rate of domes dropped, as the ones that remained had understood how to survive.\n\nSince then the mist itself began to cause interference in communication, cutting off clusters of domes from others. Our cluster lost connection to rest one hundred and twenty two years ago. Since then four of ten domes here have failed, each one bringing screams of terror over communications before silence each time.\nToday, we lost another. But later that day the dome leader, Ed, walked to view port on our dome and knocked. Shocked but he seemed ok, well best that could seen thru a foot of transparent aluminum. \n\nNo sound, we had external microphones but they had not been used since the mist moved in. Scrambling we let him into a small airlock rarely used for sending out sealed cars. Once in the airlock we spoke to him, before he spoke we asked how did you survive. Survive, he replied, how do you survive? Trapped in these small skulls, only as one? Ed, we know you been thru a lot but can you explain why you did not dissolve how are you even here? \n\nO, I did said Ed. And you will to, you must to join. We took this form to hopefully convince you to join us as well. We are everyone and everyone is us. Don’t you understand this is better? This is preferable, you die we are immortal. You had wars have conflict we have unity. So let me in and make you, us. \n\nNo, the growing crowd murmured. Ed reached for the controls to open the lock from his side, but they were already locked out. He tried to force lock as all the mist in the airlock drew to him and his entire right side expanding almost comically until the heavy manual handle shattered, lock holding. Someone smashed outer door close on the lock as it had remained open during the conversation, but it did not close as soon 3 vaguely human figures held the 20 ton door in place. Each comically larger than life as the door squealed motors burning and jammed. To our horror the door flew away into the mist. The Ed thing grinned,”We thought physical forms where weak and vulnerable but they do have uses” \n\nNow nearly everyone in the dome was there watching as the mist moved into the airlock and sound of three hundred year old metal squealing bending, breaking flying off into the gray abyss. The camera when dead, the inner door imploded into mist away from everyone. Before we could run, before we could really scream there was us, there was unity."
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[WP] Time is immutable. You learned this to your regret after spoiling a movie for a time traveler. In revenge, he rattled off the spoilers for your life.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
" \n\nIt was a Friday night during a big movie premiere, and, leaving the theater, I noticed a man in line for the next showing who was reading a personal notebook of some type. This particular movie was hyped to no end as the big summer blockbuster, but in my opinion, it ended in such a bizarre fashion in a result that both disappointed and horrified me. I sauntered over to the man with the notebook and asked him what he thought of the movie. He was excited, discussing some of the scenes from the trailers and trying to relate the movie to some larger context. \n\nPerplexed by the direction of his discussion, I probed him for more. “Well, if you think about it, the characters could never escape their fates. Perhaps that’s something we should all keep in mind.” I challenged him. “What do you mean? Aren’t we all in charge of our own destinies?” He glared at me. I again explained, “We decide our futures. It’s about the choices that we make and the end result is the sum of those choices.” At this point, the man’s eyes reverted back to his personal notebook and I was ready to leave the area and return to my hopefully choice-driven life. \n\nBefore I left, in an effort to get his attention away from the notebook for one second, I let what I thought to be a minor spoiler for the movie slip. He glared at me again, this time with such vitriol that I knew right away that it was a mistake. “How would you like it if I spoil your life?” Now this time I knew he was crazy. \n\n“You’re going to fall in love with a woman who will ruin you in a soul-crushing divorce, but then you’ll rise above it all in a glorious bachelorhood.” I had enough of his talk and challenged him again. “Oh really now? I’ve been in relationships long enough to realize that being single isn’t so bad anyway. What do you know about life spoilers anyway?” He looked at me again with a long stare, deep into my eyes. \n\n“Let me show you something.” The man opened his personal notebook to a few pages with notes scribbling various times, dates, years, centuries, and then events. There were also crude timelines drawn alongside the text occasionally. I couldn’t read much of the notebook as it was only a glimpse followed by the man taking the notebook away. Stunned in an awe that I couldn’t fathom to any degree, I had more questions for the strange man with the notebook. \n\n“You…you know about time?” That was all I could say. “Yes,” he replied, “I’m not from any particular time at all. Instead, I prefer to parse through it and visit various times that might be interesting.” I dismissed this man again. “You really need to see someone about this delusion of yours.” This time the man’s neutral mouth transformed into a slight grin. He muttered “I already know the plot of the movie anyway” as he slinked into the movie theater. \n\nThe next day I wondered about my life spoiler. Was the strange man correct? If so, I’m already a happy single man who was never married. Wasn’t I already in the “glorious bachelorhood?” I’d rather skip whatever could happen next, potentially.",
"\"But...you're a *time traveler*! How was I supposed to know you'd never heard of this movie before? It was a popular movie when it was released. How have you never seen a reference to it before?\" \n\n​\n\nRoy choked his words as he cowered under the fierce gaze of Yarin. Roy had been enjoying Yarin's friendship for a a few years now. Through happenstance, they had met and fostered a bond akin to brotherhood. But Roy had never seen Yarin in such anger before. \n\n​\n\n\"I have taken time out of my day to bring you here to 1999 so we could watch this in theaters. Why would I elicit such effort for a movie of which I was already familiar?\" \n\n​\n\nRoy and Yarin were given curious looks as they stood in the theater hallway, having their argument in hushed whispers. After spoiling the plot of the movie, Yarin had rushed out there in a fury and Roy was doing his best, albeit terribly so, to pacify him.\n\n​\n\n\"Yarin, you're right. Look buddy, I'm sorry, alright? Why are you getting so mad about this anyway? I've never seen you like this.\"\n\n​\n\n\"Our relationship has given me much satisfaction and I hold you in high esteem, however, your questioning of emotions is concerning. I hold dear our leisurely outings, but I cannot accept you spoiling this movie. With my temporal outings, there is little I have not seen and the ability to watch something new to me is priceless.\"\n\n​\n\nRoy shagged his shoulders. He didn't know what to say to his friend. This was not something he could fix. Anxiety crept up as he entertained the fear that his friendship with Yarin might be now corrupted. \n\n​\n\n\"Roy, I am normally not the type for revenge. However, I will not be able to stand with myself if I let this trespass go unmatched.\" \n\n​\n\n\"Unmatched? What exactly do you mean?\"\n\n​\n\nYarin held a hand to silence Roy. He pulled out his device and touched it to his forehead. In an instant, he had Roy's entire history logged into his mind. \n\n​\n\n\"Next year, in 2020, you will meet Julia Higgins. Your wife.\"\n\n​\n\n\"After a rocky few years and a child born from a pathetic attempt to save your marriage, Julia will divorce you in 2028.\"\n\n​\n\nRoy's heart dropped. He knew that his history was already written in stone, and he reluctantly accepted this. However, he had never wanted to know anything about his life. Knowing that he essentially had no free will was bad enough, but he at least wanted the experience of living his life anew. He couldn't help but stand frozen, as Yarin continued his perverse eulogy. \n\n​\n\n\"Your daughter, Alena, will grow to hate you. In the summer of 2039, she will run away while in your care and the ensuing chaos will disable you from ever having custody of her again.\"\n\n​\n\n\"In 2051, you will be diagnosed with mild cirrhosis and pre-diabetes. This will cause-\"\n\n​\n\n\"Okay! Enough!\" \n\n​\n\nRoy's words came out amidst a barrage of tears that cascaded downward as he fell to his knees. A small crowd had gathered in the hallway, watching as Yarin stood stoically atop the mess that Roy had become.\n\n​\n\nStruggling and stammering, Roy let out a few more words to his oppressor. \n\n​\n\n\"Yarin...I'm sorry! I, I didn't understand how important this was to you. I just...just thought that everyone knew that Bruce Willis was dead the entire time. Come on Yarin, the whole point is that the kid sees dead people!\"\n\n​\n\n [r/therudyshow](https://www.reddit.com/r/therudyshow)"
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[WP] A man is paranoid that every person on earth turns into a hideous monster whenever he isn’t looking at them. He tries to prove this by constantly surprising everyone.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I found the next door neighbor charming, despite the fact that most of the neighborhood called him crazy. Will had his moments where he would try to jumpscare me. It was rather funny if I was going to be honest. Besides his stories about the monsters that walked our earth were intriguing.\n\nIt never failed, at every neighborhood party I would get a dozen questions about how I could stand to listen to the crazy man and his even crazier stories. But he was funny, he told me stories about his childhood, despite only being a few years older than myself. He listened when I talked about how homesick I was.\n\nFinally, about two months in to living at my new place my parents and brother were coming to visit. I could barely contain my joy and talked about it the next few days until they arrived. I even invited Will over for dinner so he could meet my family. My younger brother almost immediately started to admire the older man, admittedly I might have purposefully pushed them together. My brother needed some good influences.\n\nSo it wasn't surprising when my brother volunteered to help Will, as he was redoing his bathroom. I decided to make some sweet lemonade as it was a rather hot summer day and head over next door. I called down the hall and placed the drinks and pitcher on the kitchen counter. My brother came bouncing into the room, obviously excited to be around his new hero.\n\nI guess I had picked up some bad memory as I forgot to tell my family about Will's little scares. My parents and I were relatively calm people so when it first happened to me I was taken off guard but it didn't frighten me. My teenaged brother was more amped up and so when Will decided to test Abraham I watched as my brothers lanky body melted to a large clear, almost see through skin, form.\n\nWill's face became ashen as he stared up at my brother. His large form let out a deep rumbling growl, mouth open to showcase mismatched sharp teeth. Will was frozen in fear and I only sighed, I really needed to remember these things.\n\n\"Sorry I forgot to tell him that you liked to do things like that.\" I held out a cup, \"Here want some?\"\n\nI really hope he'll calm down, I'd hate to have to move again.\n\n\\--\n\nr/bxnsheewrites"
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[WP] One day you wake up and every single person in the world stops what they are doing and starts approaching you like everything's normal. They don't talk to you and they don't do anything to you, they just stand near you.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"At first, I didn't think much about it. I was standing at the metro waiting for the train to arrive. It's a busy place. Lot's of people were around. News papers. Coffee. Cellphones. Voices. Maybe it was slightly strange that nearly no one got off when I boarded the train but they could've just been going in the same direction. As the train started slowly pulling out of the station, I noticed that the people that couldn't fit inside at the time were all looking in the same direction. It felt like their eyes were all on me as I stood staring out the window. As the train pulled away I remembered there was a huge advertisement on the side of the train, I dismissed my paranoia out of hand.\n\nThe train started speeding up on the tracks. The clicks and the clacks gradually increased. When it eventually reached a stable speed, the rhythm became monotonous but strangely satisfying. My hand was gripping a pole inside close to an exit. When I started to look about I noticed that no one was sitting down. Everyone was just standing around. At least three people were standing too close for comfort, but this is the metro, it's not unheard off, it happens every day. Everywhere I looked eyes appeared to be staring at me, but their eyes flicked or heads turned when I looked their way. Some shot knowing glances at each other, but no one said a word. At this point I was extremely uncomfortable and nervously clenched the pole.\n\nThe stretch between the stations was at least one hour apart. I looked down at my watch to check the time when I felt a slight bump that I figured was just part of the ride. It was nearly six o'clock. The sun was setting on this cold winters day, I couldn't wait to get home. I could see people in the factories outside staring at the train as it passed. When the train finally pulled into my stop, I got off immediately, everyone else streaming out of the doors. Their breaths felt like they were in my neck but my apartment wasn't far away anymore. I slammed the door shut and could finally breathe. I really shouldn't forget to take my medication, the shrink said this could happen.\n\nIt could've been a lot worse.\n\n​\n\n\\-------\n\nEdit: Error."
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[WP] The 3 little piggies and the big bad wolf, except its modern times and the wolf is a police officer.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"“Come get some Pig!”\nMachine gun fire erupted from the window the taunt came from. \n“You like that Wolf, huh? You want some more?” The pig shouted down from the window. \nBullets flung themselves across his police cruiser. He was surprised there was any car left to hit. He’d been to three houses today and all of them had greeted him in a similar manner. He checked the clip on his ultramatic pistol, four rounds left in the clip and five in the chamber. There were three piggies in the little brick house on the hill and he was going to get them all. \n\n\nHe popped his head over the car and let one round go directly into the window where the bullets had come from and ran. He ran as fast as he could for the front door. He was half way there when he saw a head, with accompanying machine gun, pop over the window. He snapped off another shot and the head went down. He dove for the front door and landed on a mat that said “Welcome!” in bright pink letters. \n\n\nThe front door was nestled in a small alcove to keep it out of the rain. Wolf coiled his body into the alcove and pounded on the door. “Open in the name of the law!” He said with the authority of someone who just sprinted fifty yards, it came out ragged and weak.\n\n“Never Copper!” came the call from inside. A moment later the entrance to the alcove was raked with bullets, brick chips flew everywhere. The man with the gun must be leaning out the window, trying to get him.The firing ceased only when a screaming match erupted from inside the house. \n\n\n“Don’t shoot my house, idiot!” came the voice from inside, obviously yelling at the pig upstairs who had fired on Wolf. \n\n\n“Don’t tell me what to do!” came the answer from upstairs. “I’m sick of you telling me what to do!”\n\n\n“My house my rules!” The owner called back. “When you rebuild your house, you can do when you want. Good luck with that, by the way, what idiot builds his house out of straw!” The owner laughed. \n\n\n“Guys, can’t we all get along?” A new voice came through the door. “We have bigger problems here!”. \n\n\n“Problems you brought me!” The owner shot back at the new voice. “Your an idiot too, just like him. You built a house out of sticks. Not even lumber but sticks. Idiots, both of you.” \n\n\n“We’re not idiots, now apologize or else…” It was the voice from the piggie upstairs, the piggie with the machine gun, only he was downstairs now.\n\n“Or else what? You gonna shoot me? You wanna be the big hog? Go on, shoot then little brother…” \n\n\n“He guys, lets just settle down and deal with the Cop? Ok…” said the reasonable voice.\n\n\n“What’s the matter,” taunted the owner, “can’t find the trigger little piggie?”\n\n\n“No!” Screamed the once reasonable pig as the Wolf heard the pitter-patter of piggie feet cross the floor at a run. \n\n\nThe next thing wolf heard was the machine gun. Bullets smashed into, and through, the door he was huddled up against. The gunfire seemed to go on forever. He made himself small and waited for it to be over. When it was he found himself covered in wood chips from head to toe, but no blood. He looked at the door, gaping holes were blown perfectly around where he had stood. \n\n\nThe wolf realized he had been holding his breath as he lay against the door and blew it out. The door made a squeaking noise and immediately fell inward into the house. He drew his gun and stepped into the brick house. \n\n\nOn the floor were all three pigs in a pile. For a moment he thought them dead till the big one pushed himself up and all three pigs rolled out onto the floor, exhausted but otherwise unhurt. The empty machine gun lay off to the side. \n\n\n“You got us Copper” The owner said and put his little hands into the air to be handcuffed. His other brothers did the same. Wolf reached into this pocket and pulled out his little yellow pad and began to write.\n\n\nHe tore off the first sheet and handed it to the pig who had brandished the machine gun. “You sir, are found in violation of housing code 1933 which states that houses must be made out of suitable materials. Straw is not a suitable material.” He thrust the notice into the pig’s hands. \n\n\nThe second sheet he gave to the reasonable pig. “You sir, are in violation of housing code 1933 as well. A house shall be…”\n\n\n“It’s made of wood!” The pig interrupted him. “That’s a suita--”\n\n“It’s made of sticks, sir.” The wolf said and put the paper into his hands. “You’re welcome to challenge that in court.”\n\n\n“Good luck with that!” the last pig snickered, and took his hands down. \n\n\n“Keep them up sir!” the Wolf said. \n\n\n“But what did I do?” He said. “My house is made of brick, it’s perfect!”\n\n\n“For starters you assaulted a police officer and harbored fugitives.” The wolf slapped the cuffs on the owner. “Oh, one more thing.” \n\n\n“What?”\n\n\n“Your chimney is blocked up. That’s a fire hazard and violation of…”\n\n\n “I know, housing code 1933.”",
"There was an old mother pig who had three little pigs but not enough income to support all three. So when they were old enough, she sent them out into the world to seek their fortunes.\n\nThe first little pig was very lazy. He dropped out on his final year of school but still managed to rent an apartment under his mother’s name. He loved to drink and party and do drugs. He didn't want to work at all and left his poor mother to pay for his expenses\n\nThe second little pig worked a little bit harder and made a modest living for himself. He still liked to hang out with the first little piggy but had a full-time job as an accounts payable officer. He and the first piggy were drinking buddies.\n\nThe third little pig worked harder and smarter. After graduating from Uni, the third little piggy worked abroad making millions from his successful international startup. 2% of the third piggy’s earnings were able to finance both the 1st piggy and momma piggy.\n\nThen one day, both Piggy 1 and 2 were out on a joy ride when a wolf saw the pair speed down the I-40. He smelled the pigs in the car and his wallet started to expand because in this society cops are paid by the number of arrests they make.\n\nSo the wolf pulled over and knocked on the driver’s door. He said:\n\nLittle pigs! Little pigs!\nLet me in! Let me in!\nBut the first piggy didn’t want to get a ticket because his parole officer would revoke the first Piggy’s parole.\n\nNo! No! No! \nNot by the trigger on my gunny gun gun! \nYelled the first piggy. Then the wolf showed his teeth and yelled:\n\nRun!\nHe’s gotta gun!\nHe’s gonna blow our heads off!\n\nSo the wolf huffed and he puffed and dove for cover. The wolf then opened fire but it was too late, both of the piggies fled the scene. \n\nThe wolf continued to chase them down the highway until both of the little piggies stopped at the second piggy’s house.\n\nThe wolf saw the house, and he smelled the pigs inside, and his wallet began to expand as he thought about how he would get a pay rise. \n\nSo he surrounded the house with his other cop buddies and knocked on the door and said:\n\nLittle pigs! Little pigs!\nLet me in! Let me in!\nBut the little pigs saw so many squad cars and thought ‘fuck it, we’re dead either way.’ So both of the piggies answered back:\n\nNo! No! No!\nWe have hostages!\nSo the wolf showed his teeth and said:\n\nThen I'll huff \nand I'll puff \nand I'll blow your door down.\n\nThe wolf huffed and puffed and with his enforcer batter ram, he forced his way into the second Piggy’s house in unison with his buddies. The first little Piggy was shot dead while the Second Little Piggy’s wife yelled \n\nI’m getting a divorce!\n\nThe second little Piggy was found and shot dead in the basement while cradling his daughter.\n\nThe third little piggy was distraught of the news. So was Momma pig. The third little piggy made his way back to his hometown to grieve with his momma. But while he was there he somehow got the body cam footage of the wolf’s siege. \n\nImmediately the third little piggy bought the best lawyers money could buy and started litigation against the county’s local police department for excessive violence. \n\nThe county tried to shoot the case down and bolt it out of the system but eventually it made its to the Supreme Court. When they heard about how the wolf killed at will. It was held that the cop was found guilty and sentenced to four years in prison. With possible parole after two. \n\nThis was too much. The wolf danced about with rage and swore he would come down and eat up the little pig for his supper. But while he said this, the wolf was restrained by the guards and taken to away.\n\nIn the end the third little piggy and his mother were compensated generously by the county while their case became a landmark in case law."
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[WP] Scientists have found the way to bring about immortality. The catch is that you age up until you hit your prime. Some stop aging in their twenties, others in their thirties. You? You’re 74 and still aging.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"As far as I know, not many people been through what I’m going right know. Actually, I never heard of anyone battling the struggles of an elder since immortality was discovered and widespread. But here I am diabetic, doing dialysis daily and suffering some other stuff due to living a reckless life, believing I would be as immortal as anyone else.\n\nThey say this genetic modification stop your aging in your prime, and because of this no one gives a shit about their health. They say your organs aren’t going to be damaged by any external or internal factors when your time comes.\n\nI’m 74 as I’m writing my story and, apparently, still aging. “My time” never came, so all these years passed by as they passed to people before the gene, adding this to my dyonisiac lifestyle (adopted by most people around) results in a 74 year old disabled and screwed up man, feeling death coming around. Due to natural causes. Quite a story, isn’t it?\n\nHowever, the worst part of it all is dealing with the possibilities leading my case. Doctors and scientists confirmed the gene in my genome. My top hypothesis for this is that I simply didn’t reach my prime. Living a life just for the sake of it, being disattached from people around me, never understanding how to play the game of life… I suspect I would have to life more 74 years if I wanted to know what is like to live in this planet and reach my prime. Although, we’re still humans after all. Until our time comes by we age, we learn, we mature and, apparently we die.\n\nI have no problems whatsoever with death. The stories of the heroes from the past that bravely faced everything and died with honor are heartwarming. My problem is the lack of this honor. It is desperate to face what people hadn’t face in a long time knowing it is happening just because of you, for you are not able to reach a prime in a human life-spam.\n\nFrom now on, who knows what is going to happen to me? Maybe my philosophies help me reaching my prime, or maybe I get to my natural time and just pass away becoming twisted history. \n \n\nEither way, it’s been a long short life...",
"It hit you a few weeks before dying. After your 50th birthday you stopped wondering how much longer you still had to decay to achieve immortality, you just started to live everyday as if it were the last one. \"Enjoy the small things, for they are not small at all\" you used to say around that age. \n\nSomehow and despite older people looking young, the venerability of a worn face and a silver head were still there. Even older people seeked out your advice, not only because of your appearance, but also because you were truly a wise elder. Your calmed voice inspired peace within other people's souls and your keen and thoughtful insights inspired them hope.\n\nOnce you got to an age were you were confined to a wheelchair, people were amazed at your outlook for life. How is it possible that the unluckiest elder, as many saw you, could have such a positive way of feeling about life. There were people well above their 100s but looking 20, and as they encountered you, you often found that they were troubled by things that would trouble a normal young person, despite their advanced age. Somehow a perpetual youth meant that foes proper of that age would torment many of these people.\n\nAnd you kept growing older and wiser however, and it was there, almost at your deathbed when it hit you. Hell and heaven are a state of mind that accompany you from a few instants before one's death until eternity, because death is forever. Youthful immortality had taken this away, but not for you. A righteous life fills the soon-to-be-death with immense joy, whereas the sinful one is left with a sour and deep grief, and this feelings determine one's life, forever. Heaven and hell.\n\nAnd then you stopped ageing, your condition got so good that you could even complete small walks around your little garden, and still had the energy to provide with words of advice, or encouragement or whatever the need was to the countless people that visited you daily. \"The elder of Seattle\" they began to know you, \"The sozima of Tacoma\", etc. The nicknames were numerous, as were the people you helped along your long life.",
"Unfinished.\n\n\nI'm a late bloomer. Not like an onion but like a.. Well, okay, like a very well-wrinkled onion. I'm starting to resemble a mole rat. Actually, that's a lie, I began to resemble a mole rate 5 years ago at the ripe, old, immaturish age of 69. Now I resemble a mole rat with thick, shaded glasses. The walking cane ain't helping the look too. It doesn't help attract the ladies, even the older ones. To be fair, even the older ones look like they're 40 at most. That's when they stopped aging due to the Cure. I'm on the Cure too. Hell, everybody's on the Cure but they've hit their prime biological age years ago. Decades even, for some. I'm still going. I'm the outlier on the far right of the the Bell Curve of modern living. Or modern *aging*, I should say. I'm so far ahead on the Bell Curve that I'm an outlier of one. At least my bones aren't fragile and my liver spots, the few that have appeared, make me look like I've decided to get a leopard print tattoo to cover up a raging fear of mortality in a world where natural mortality has itself long died. My bones being strong is something my physician took a notice too. He said that in all the decades he's been alive (and that's a good joke coming from his 37 year old body) he's never seen an older person with such good bones. To be fair, I did remind him that he's never actually seen an older person. He had to agree with me there but handed me over to his optometrist friend instead. He wondered what was going on with my eyes since they got progressively worse. I've become so far-sighted that sometimes I feel like I can see into the future. I've seen that my physician's advice couldn't do any harm (oh, thank ye gods for the Hippocratic Oath!) and so I walked my hunched-self over to the optometrist's office on the other side of my local medical complex. The man wasn't unfamiliar to me. After all, I already wore glasses but I never asked him as to what was causing my far-sightedness. I had assumed I was suffering from weakened organs due to age but it seemed that my physician disagreed and so I asked the optometrist why my eyes were getting worse.\n\n\"They're not getting worse,\" he said, \"They're changing.\"\n\nThat was new.\n\n\"Changing into what, Doc?\"",
"I was too old. \nFantastical new technology I couldn’t understand; couldn’t adapt to. \nI kept aging while everyone else stayed youthful. \nBaseline Grandpa is what they called me. \nI was old, but not without use. \nThe young approached me, wanting to know how better, or worse, they were doing. \n—- \nI knew eventually I would die. \nI’d watched so many changes, so much struggle between the new and the old and perhaps we’d finally figured out a way of doing things better. It just requires some things to be let go of. \nJust like me.",
"Nothing is magic, not really. \n\nThe special cocktail of drugs administered in the NF6579-FOY program were just that: a set of chemicals set to activate with the presence of another set of chemicals. \n\nThere was that portion that prevented you from dying. Then, the portion that fixes your age, lying dormant until the perfect balance of hormones were present in your body - the science-approved prime of your life. For most, this optimal age came during the thirties. My husband did not age past his first wrinkle, the first threads of grey in his hair. Next to him, I looked like his grandmother. \n\n\"Maybe some people never achieve their prime,\" I'd moaned to him, nursing an arthritic arm.\n\nHe'd just given an awkward smile. A year later, he left. Few people wanted to think about old age, after all. An elderly woman here is like a smallpox victim in the twenty-first century. All my friends, the girls I'd known since my childhood, all of them had stopped contacting me. I didn't bother trying to reach them either. \n \nI thought I was just unlucky. Or so pathetic the blip of my prime was too insignificant to activate the drugs. \n\nI forgot that there was no such thing as luck. \n\nI was kidnapped in the middle of the night and brought to a...Facility. \n\nThere, the first thing I saw was a wizened old face staring right into mine. \n\n\"You're old!\" I said. \n\n\"You're very observant!\" She replied. \n\nAfter a pause, she raised her hunched up shoulders in some shaky approximation of a flourish. \n\n\"Welcome to the old folks home!\" \n\n\"You mean there are others? Others who...grew old?\"\n\n\"Well, in a word, yes.\"\n\nShe brought me down the hallway and introduced me to the other residents. \n\nAfter a while I began to notice a pattern. \n\n\"Why is everyone here a woman?\" \n\nShe stilled, shoulders hunched. \n\n\"We don't know. Rowena, the retired doctor - she says the reaserchers messed up their labtests for the immortality drug - says they did not fully account for our different hormones, and fluctuations and stuff. I think we're just cursed.\"\n\n\"So, if the drug doesn't work on us ... Do we, you know, die?\" \n\n\"No one has died here. Not yet.\" \n\nJust then, we passed a bed where a figure of wrinkled skin and bones lay gasping. My companion quietly drew the curtains around the bed and made to walk away. \n\n\"Shouldn't we do something? Call someone?\"\n\n\"She's been the same way for weeks now.\" \n\nHer reply, and what it implied, dawned on me like a sliver of ice down my back. \n\nNothing was magic. Nothing was luck. But what do we do when science itself turns against us?",
"I'm standing at the window, looking outside as life unfolds in front of my eyes. The street is full of this new, fresh and immortal youth ready to conquer their wildest dreams, knowing that now that time won't stop them, they are free more than ever. The sun is shining bright, there are a few clouds here and there, and the wind is calmly singing in the trees. A true peaceful day.\n\nI sight and sit back down on my couch.\n\nAs I do so, I feel my bones crack and my muscles ache, as if they wanted to remind me of my situation. I bury myself in the comfortable fabric and cuddle myself up to Maya, my dog, who welcoms me with a few licks. I smile, feeling my heart warm up a little bit, and gently pet her. The sound of the radio playing in the kitchen soothes me, and I close my eyes, letting myself get lost in my thoughts.\n\nAlmost immediatly, I start thinking about what all of this is about. What do all these people expect from immortality? Why do they want this in the first place? Why couldn't people just accept the cycle of life and let it follow its natural motion? Why am I the unlucky one again?\n\nPerhaps, this is just a wisper of jealousy. When my friends started getting their primes, we were all so excited to be able to spend the rest of eternity together, having fun and making our lives however you wanted, but soon enough.... They stopped aging and... Well, didn't want some old aging lady in their way. Makes sense, I think... Never did I expect to be the one that would have to stay out, the one that will be unfortunate exception to the rule. Or maybe I was just designed to be that one weird old grandma that gives cookies to the scouts and complains about too much noise. Who knows?...\n\nI open my eyes and stare and my hand. It reminds me of a desert, shaken by quiet wrinkles left by time. Its flow is cruel and harmful but... All I can do is look at the traces it left on my body and mind, the scars, the falling skin, the aching muscles, the tired heart, but also... Something human. More human that what is happening outside. The fear that sleeps in me is always there, always asking if I ever will get the prime, and thinking that at this point, it would be better to just let it go and be one of the last ones that will join peace naturally...\n\nI suddenly hear the doorbell ring. I slowly get up and walk to the door, opening it with curiosity. I discover a man standing outside my door, an old man like me. Quite tall, looking about my age, and with a familiar face... I just find myself not being able to place a name or to even know who he reminds me of. Odd.\n\n\"Good afternoon, I greet him, can I do something for you? Do I... Do I know you?\"\n\nAs I say these words, he looks at me with a tired but happy smile.\n\n\"It's quite curious that you don't remember me, Dilara. You... You aren't the only one trapped in this time, I see.\"\n\nHearing his voice makes me feel like I've known him forever, and suddenly, something clics inside you... Of course! Could it be?...\n\n\"You're not alone anymore.\"",
"When the initial drugs came out, affordable as they were, everyone bought them. Some held back of course, not wanting to live forever. Eventually it was completely commonplace. Living forever was attractive. \n\nOf course that’s not exactly how it worked. It was biological immortality. You could live forever as long as there’s not an accident. Or other causes such as cancer, homicide, or even suicide. \n\nThe other thing the scientists neglected to mention was that they didn’t work right away. The drugs would kick in when you hit your prime. The problem with that is that no ones prime is the same. There are forever teenagers walking around, alongside twenty year olds or thirty year olds. \n\nMe? I guess I haven’t hit my prime yet. I’m 74 as of five days ago. My wife, forever 25 Melody, left me a long time ago. I wasn’t exactly sad about it. I understood her position. I guess what I don’t understand is my position.\n\nI woke up at my usual time, went downstairs as fast as I could manage, and made myself some breakfast. Even if I wasn’t immortal yet, I had made a fortune off of investments. I was a multi-millionaire years ago, and that wealth had only grown. If only I could reach my prime, I might be able to enjoy my wealth for longer. \n\n*Knock knock knock* \n\nI looked up from breakfast, wondering who could possibly be knocking at my door at 8 in the morning. \n\nOnce making my way to the door, I didn’t bother to check the peep hole, but simply unlocked and opened the door. \n\n“Hello!” A kindly old man said. He was taller than me, standing without a stoop. He had a long white beard, and medium length white hair. His outfit was simply a dark gray suit. \n\n“Good morning.” I replied back. \n\n“Might you be Gregory Thorn?” The man asked me, a twinkle in his eye. \n\n“I am Gregory, but Greg is fine. How can I help you?” \n\n“Well Gregory, I have come with a job offer. I know that you are a wealthy man, but my offer isn’t about money.”\n\n“Everything is about money.” I answered, walking away from the open door. The man followed me inside, shutting the door.\n\n“My name is Thomas James.” He said after I had found my coffee mug. I didn’t reply, but simply waved my hand. Sitting down at the kitchen table, I motioned for him to take a seat. I picked up the tablet I was reading news off of and continued reading with my readers on. \n\n“You’ve always wondered why you’re not immortal, right? I used to wonder that too.” Thomas said after a moment. \n\nI slowly set down my tablet. “What?” I asked. \n\n“You see, when one reaches their prime, it’s more to do with destiny. Scientists may claim it’s simply random, or that it’s biological, but it’s not. It’s destiny.” \n\n“What do you mean?” I asked again. \n\n“Destiny is a strange thing to talk about, I know, but bear with me.” Thomas stood up, then held both of his hands out to the side. Suddenly, fire erupted on each hand, and he smiled at me. Not an evil smile, but a kind smile that understood the disbelief and astonishment on my face. \n\n“Gregory Thorn, are you ready to claim your destiny as a wizard?” He asked me with a grin.",
"Age 12\n\n“Congratulations Tithonus! You’re immortal.” It’s that easy? A simple shot at the doctors, and I’ll live forever? I’ve got all the time in the world. I can do anything! Mom says I still have to go to school though.\n\nAge 23\n\n“I do.” This is it, this is happiest moment of my life. I’ve met her, my soul mate, the women I want nothing more than to spend the rest of eternity with. I’ve never meant two words more than I do right now. This must be my peak! It’s a shame Jane’s dad seems to hate me, he always says “He’s not going anywhere. He has no ambition. What do you see in him?”\n\nAge 46\n\n“I’m not immortal.” What? How could I not have known? I was happy Jane was growing older with me, I was sure that when we finally did peak, we would peak together. But she won’t live forever, we won’t spend the rest of eternity together... I think I understand a little bit what it’s like to die, a part of me just did. I understand her dad now.\n\nAge 74\n\n“I love you, Thank you. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you even happier, I’m sorry I couldn’t show you more. You’ve made me the happiest man in the world these years together. I love you, rest now.” I’m not immortal either, I will never peak, not without her.\n\nThis is my first post here, sorry if it’s not great. But I had fun writing it and that’s what matters!",
"The dawn of the 22nd century brought with it many scientific discoveries. They helped people in many ways. Some sated the thirst for intergalactic exploration, some sated the need to power up human cities, so on and so forth. But out of all the discoveries, one sated mankind's greatest desire – one immortalised in the myth that was the fountain of youth – to not die of old age.\n\n30 year-old Gerrard Boulais was the first to have received the treatment to immortality. It was not as clean cut as it would be if he'd received the treatment a few decades later but he could not held back. The process then was crude and involved series of machineries reminiscent of the super computers of the old hooked up to heavy-machineries for construction work. Thoughts such as 'guinea pig' or 'lab rat' made him squeamish, but alas he went ahead with the experiment. The result? Gerrard was the first man to reach partial immortality. At least that was what the scientists tried to explain to him and the masses.\n\n\"Gramps!\" a voice called out.\n\nGerrard snapped out his state of trance. He may not look as young as he did 44 years ago – when he received the treatment – but he felt like he was not rotting away. At least his mental capacity was not getting as old as his body was.\n\n\"... What?\" Gerrard replied curtly at the young man who'd basically called him old.\n\n\"Chill! I was just joking,\" the younger man – looked to be in his 30s – smirked, \"so do tell what do you plan for the weekend?\"\n\n\"Nothing much, I'd probably go to the woods and stretch my legs for a bit...\"\n\n\"City life beating you down?\" the young man mocked Gerrard.\n\n\"I never liked living in the city anyway, not even when I was around your 'age'.\"\n\nAt the mention of 'around your age', the young man chuckled. Surely it made sense for an older person to illustrate youth by pointing out the younger person's lack of age compared to his... But in this case...\n\n\"Well, we might've been born on the same year but wow do you look like you're supposed to be my grandpa,\" the young man said.\n\nThat's right. The 'partial' part of Gerrard's immortality took form in him being the only one that was treated to still age. In fact, he's the only one who was supposedly immortal but somehow still aged.\n\n*Well I still age. I might even say I aged well like a fine cheese, but only if you would say the same of an ugly-looking blue cheese or something.* He thought optimistically. The fact of the matter is, he always had this sorta banter with everyone. Not really a wonder when everyone seemed on their prime, drenched in their youth.\n\n\"Anyway,\" the young man roller his eye, looking to divert the topic, \"I was talking to some of the 'younger' girls back at the office..\"\n\nGerrard immediately honed in, \"... and?\"\n\nSensing his bait was taken the young man continued, \"it looked like they were sorta interested in talking to you. They wanted to meet up and party a bit... That is if you're cancelling that trip to the woods.\"\n\n\"Hmmm... I don't know. I mean, why were they 'interested' when they haven't even interacted with me even once?\"\n\n\"No clue, they probably have daddy issues or something,\" the young man laughed.\n\n\"Well, I mi–,\" before Gerrard could answer, he was suddenly interrupted.\n\n\"Before you say anything,\" the young man took out some tickets out of his pocket, \"I think it'd be real cool for *you* to come anyway.\"\n\n*You...?* Gerrard winced at the very word his younger colleague had said.\n\nGerrard then inspected the tickets that was handed over to him. From the tickets, he saw that it was some sort of seminar/conference thing. The dates were written in and the venue was the luxurious hotel downtown. What caught his eyes were the rather vague name of the event organiser and sponsor...\n\n*Organised by the Department of Homeland Security.*\n\n*Sponsored by the Centre for Humanity Ascendancy*",
"We are the last of Olympus. \n\n\nIt's a small town, on top of a mountain. We know not when and how it started, only that it is there and will always be so. There is a lot to do, for a small town. Some of it isn't real - there are lots of synthetics, experiences down to screens and drugs alone. We must - we do all that is in our power to prevent boredom, \n\n\nTime is worth nothing now, for we do not age. We stop when we reach our prime. We are young - to us, there is only the present. Some stopped ageing as children. Others, older. The second oldest person here is thirty-eight. \n\n\nThe oldest is I, at seventy four. \n\n\nJealous? Sometimes. I am jealous that their bodies work, and mine doesn't. When I feel like that, all I need do is look at my wife. \n\n\nClaire is sixteen. Her face looks no different from the day I first laid eyes on her. When she first turned sixteen, her blonde hair was long enough to reach her backside, but now, it barely reaches her jaw. She doesn't wear much makeup - but she doesn't need to, either. She's beautiful - young - everything most women ache to be. \n\n\nAnd yet she despairs. She hates waking up to the same face for fifty-four years. She changes what she can - her hair, her clothes. She went through a period of cutting herself, as she hated that time marked me and left her. Even now, there are periods where she seems barely alive. \n\n\n\\*\\*\\* \n\n\nWe were the last children ever born. We met when we were sixteen. Clare had spent her time partying, having partner after partner. Many of them, she told me later, were synthetics. One day, she woke up, and realised that this was it. She found me- not partying, but learning. Even now, I learn, for there is nothing more worthy to do with my time. We became friends. A couple of years after that, we fell in love. We married - I at twenty-three, Claire, sixteen, ever sixteen. \n\n\nPeople don't marry, when death does not part them. They bet on when we'd divorce. They bet on when I'd stop ageing, too. Thirty came, then forty. A sixteen-year old girl, hand in hand with an old man looked strange. \n\n\nYet time continued. Fifty. My body started to decay. My eyesight dwindled. It was then that the last of the First Olympians approached me. She looked thirty, but as a First Olympian, she must have been about two hundred. She'd been running things, and she was starting to find it too much. The First Olympians had always said living was too much. You barely saw them any more - they stayed in their own homes, having synthetics, running from real world. \n\n\nI took the job. Claire helped, whenever she could. It wasn't really work - it felt like a game. The real jobs were done by a row of computers in front of me. To me, they were a black box - I ached to know how they worked and what they did. \n\n\n\\*\\*\\* \n\n\nSeventy-four. I cannot walk from my bed to my desk, even though they are a room apart. Claire pushes me, in a wheeled chair. Unlike the rest of them, I will not last forever. I would not mind, if it wasn't for Clare, standing over my deathbed, sixteen and widowed for eternity. \n\n\nI sit in front of the computer. I can barely see the screen. There is something dark red there, that wasn't there before. I adjust my glasses, and I see words. \n\"Danger. Chronovite supply depleted,\" \n\"Chronovite?\" \n\"Chronovite is a drug that prolongs life. Until yesterday, it was in your food. It is harvested by docking time from the Servants.\" \nA video feed. People - but barely people - dressed in rags, some older than me and still working. They are in a giant flaming pit. Connected to a network of pipes, and blue smoke drains from their bodies. Over them stands a robot, tall and jagged, collecting the smoke. \nA cut. Then another video. Same place. The pipes lie, unused, on the floor. The people swarm the robot like ants, pulling it onto the ground. One of them falls to the ground, his chest a bloody mess. He's not moving. It is as if something has been turned off inside him. \n\n\n\"The Servants will give no more time. They are dying, and they have had enough.\" \n\n\nThe screen turned off. I look behind me, at my beloved. She is looking older, yet she does not seem afraid. Warnings ping up on the screen. The First are dying, they say. People are frightened. \n\n\nThis was why my prime was seventy. A youth would never believe that Olympus could fall. He has had forever, and he will have forever. He would have fought against the end, beating those Servants into submission. Perhaps, this was what they have done before. But an old man, dying, knows what it is like for the end to come. \n\n\nAnd he knows that sometimes, the end is necessary.",
"Another day, I rolled over in my bed alone, yet again. I haven’t had someone next to me in 43 years… I have woken up thinking of that day, the day she packed her bags and left. She had done it, she reached her prime… without me. I sit up, my two feet slowly land on the ground, the slight aches and pains in my back remind me it's still happening.\n\nMy daily routine is simple at this point, roll out of bed, count the ever-increasing lines on my face, make my coffee, two creams one sugar, shuffle to the porch and watch and wonder. Why is this how my life is working out? Taking another sip of my bitter coffee and letting out a deep sigh.\n\nI can see the Anderson boy has hit prime and he’s only 18, explain that shit to me? Ha, when I was 18 I hadn’t a clue, and here he is keeping that body forever, I’ll just smile it’ll be over for me soon anyways. I scan my surroundings as I do every day looking at each family getting ready for the day. The Rite’s have been the same for the past 20 years, they could at least change the color of their house from that drab blue. The Sullivan’s oldest had another child, its exhausting to keep up with everyone’s lives. I look down at my empty cup, my coffee is the only thing I look forward to nowadays. I slowly get up and make my way back inside.\n\nThe familiar sound of the percolator and the taps of Danny’s little paws keep my mind calm. I stroke his one loppy ear and let him outside. Another perfect day on top of it all, it’s one thing they made this wonderful prime, but to perfect weather on top of that. Another deep sigh radiates through my body. Suddenly I hear a soft knock on my front door, its probably Kate Sullivan here to boast about her newest grandkid, that woman’s a hag. \n\nI round the corner and head to the front door expecting to see Kate’s gleeful smile, but it’s a younger woman I’ve never met before. I open the door and notice her eyes widen when my glance hits hers. She quickly looks down at her hands while beginning to wipe her palms on her dark jeans. She looks back up again and begins to speak, tripping over her words asking if I knew of a Joyce Harrison… I hadn’t heard that name in 43 years. I spit out a quick yes, and explain to this stranger of my past, of how when she hit prime she packed her bags and left me… how she couldn’t stay with me as I was still aging… that our lives wouldn’t sync up. \n\nShe diverts her gaze to the side again then back to my eyes, she gestures to my rocking chairs asking if we can take a seat. I oblige I’d like to know her connection to Joyce. We sit and she begins explaining that her name is Claire she’s 42 but primed at 27. She’s knotting her hands together as she takes in a huge breath looks back my way and explains that I… that I’m her father. I shake my head, as my eyes begin to well up. It can’t be, I can’t be a father. How did Joyce hide this from me? Claire goes on to explain how when she was born her mother told her I’d died. She’d only just learned of me as her husband had just taken a job in the neighboring city and she stumbled upon my name in the local paper. She apologized for the years it took for her to find me. I couldn’t create or speak the words I was feeling… I had missed so much time with her.\n\nClaire’s posture began to relax as we talked more, eventually she looked at her car and asked me in an almost whisper if I wanted to meet my grandson? I had a grandson? I almost yelled yes, a faint smile appeared on her face as she made a hand gesture to her car and a man emerged, her husband I’m guessing. He went to the backseat and grabbed out a boy of no more than 2. The sun hit his golden hair and I could feel his piercing blue eyes from my deck. She grabbed him and introduced him to me. His name was Flynn he was a year and a half, she asked if I wanted to hold him and I choked out yes. As I reached to him I felt a warmth come through my body, it started in my stomach and raced to my heart. My eyes shut for a moment longer than normal. When I reopened them, I felt different. I felt warmth, and health, and love. I had done it.",
"When I had eclipsed thirty, it was still a joke among my friends. They would constantly rib me about ‘peaking’ and how the greatest days were ahead of me. I found them to be lacking, but hey, they were friends. \n\nWork got busy, and life got busier. The jokes lessened in frequency, not because of irrelevance, but because of the slow erosion of friendships that come second to work. \n\nAt my retirement party, our office has a custom of cleaning out your desk as part of the festivities. I went through the photos and baubles I had collected in my 50 years with happy tears welling at the corners of my eyes. \n\nSomething caught my eye.... what was it... a letter. Dated just a week after I had started my work here!\n\n“Please remit payment immediately to activate your immortality DLC. “\n\nSincerely,\nElectronic Arts",
"Sometimes in the quiet, where the wind reigns freely upon its vast and empty kingdom, where it caresses the tombs of the dead from so long ago, I think I hear grieving. I hear mourning. \n\n\nFor in this quiet surely the dead must convene, they must talk and scatter their wisdom for us, the ever living. Their words carry. Their warnings must overflow now, filled with knowledge us living cannot grasp. \n\n\nThey mourn and I listen.\n\n\nI am an old man now in a world of youth and promise. A world that pulses ahead with vigor, with endless ambition and sights, always, towards the future. A world for tomorrow.\n\n\nAnd here I live, a relic of the past. I am an anomaly for those who do not know me. And for the person who does know me, I am perhaps a ghost of the past; a relic that haunts the dreams of the good nature, the insecurity of a man who will not go away.\n\n\nBut all of that comes later. My name is Brian Woodrue and I am 74 years old. I am the oldest man alive, though many have lived longer than I. Their ages have since stopped many decades ago, freezing at their prime ever since the Formula was developed.\n\n\nThose who were already passed their prime were unaffected by the Formula and they died as all living things did.\n\n\nBut me?\n\n\nI was born years after the Formula's creation, inoculated with immortality as a baby, and I lived and grew with the dreams of eternity and its promise of eventual paradise as all the good boys and girl do.\n\n\nIt was so that I was raised, and my life for a time was well. I must have been in my twenties when I found the love of my life, my soul mate whom I dreamed of sharing this eternity with.\n\n\nHer name was Gwen and she had stopped aging that year. She looked ahead to a life of unbridled success, of infinite possibilities. I looked in her eyes and saw the same for myself. But something must have glazed over, dulling to time's barrage of perpetuity, as those years we spent together passed.\n\n\nThen Gwen left me after seven years of us being together, and I have never recovered for those years were the best I have ever lived. She wanted more out of life, as does everyone I suppose. Always looking ahead and ahead, further out to a sea of grand dreams, a horizon of paradise.\n\n\nAnd I drowned in oblivion.\n\n\nI could never keep hope for a better tomorrow. I suppose I was always depressed. \n\n\nAnd I never stopped aging either.\n\n\nTime marched in utopia, slowly as it does for a man living in hell. I lived and lived as we all do. My strength waned as my body continued its aging. I saw doctors and specialists who could never find fault with my molecular structure.\n\n\nI was immortal, they determined. My body just had not reached its optimum age as yet.\n\n\n\"The best years are ahead of you,\" they would say.\n\n\nGwen kept in touch for a decade. Then the sadness of my age and of my self must have taken a toll on her, for she stopped calling. She remains that young and vibrant girl, the one who stole my heart, who eroded what dreams I had for the vast canvas of forever.\n\n\nBut there I go again. There I am blaming her for my unhappy life, for the feelings that attack my head without rest. No, my unhappiness does not stem from Gwen leaving me. Nor does it come from my aging. \n\n\nNo. \n\n\nI believe it is of my own doing. I am an old man now, and I think I can admit it. I was always destined for melancholy. My bones seemed soaked in it, steeped in its tranquil tea of hard and lonely self reflection.\n\n\nI am a sad man who could never look to the promise of tomorrow.\n\n\nAnd so I looked back at the dead. I read about those lost to existence, of those who drowned in oblivion. I visited the graves of those who died so long ago that their presence is a ghost of a memory, a dying whisper on crowded winds. I had spent time with them, envying them their relief from life's tedium.\n\n\n*Why'd you have to go?* I sometimes think.\n\n\nAnd I think how funny it must be, heartbreak as the catalyst for all I have done. But humans are not rational and my mind is not beholden to any rules or structure. \n\n\nI loved Gwen. I loved her many decades ago but she fell out of love with me. Now she lives forever in her pocket of tomorrow, of her niche of immortality.\n\n\nAnd I live in endlessness. I cannot blame her leaving me as the cause for all of this, but it was the last straw. I think it was what made me see, what cemented my view of this life, and what led to my work.\n\n\nAnd my work will be despised and hated by all.\n\n\nYes, my name, Brian Woodrue, shall be struck in perpetuity as a curse upon Man, as a Devil upon Man's Paradise. And rightfully so, for what I shall do is heinous in the eyes of the living, of the un-dying. \n\n\nBut so be it.\n\n\nI listen to the dead. I hear their mourning for the living, for those family that refuses to visit. For all of eternity all that has been alive has died. But now nearly a century has passed without death. And all time has become meaningless.\n\n\nWhat remains of the present is but a prayer for the future. And what future there is, is merely veiled hedonism. There is no more life in simply living. There is no end to a game that cannot be won.\n\n\nIt might sound as though my cynicism and depression has gotten the better of me, clouding my judgment in favor of personal relief.\n\n\nMaybe so.\n\n\nBut my name is Brian Wilson and I am 74 years old. I have spent over four decades perfecting my life's work. With each passing year I grow closer to the dead. As my bones become brittle and my mind muddied, the inspiration upon the wind hits me. I breathe in the air of my ancestors and my dreams are filled with breakthroughs and a promise of oblivion and silence.\n\n\n*You should have stayed with me,* I think.\n\n\nI feel my body change and relax into itself. I know then that I have finally stopped aging. It is a sign of success. Oh, how the world shall hate me.\n\n\nFor I have found a way to reverse the Formula. I have composed a toxin that will eliminate its spell. Time will once again bring its sadness and sorrow as death unfreezes and flows through all living beings. And the dead shall grow and the future will no longer be a constant tomorrow.\n\n\nMy toxin acts like a virus. I anticipate it shall spread across the world within a year.\n\n\n*Why?* I ask myself, but it is only a formality in the face of endless death.\n\n\nI feel relieved.\n\n\nI have listened to the dead after giving up on life. Upon the wind they cry in their lonely despair.\n\n\n*Come to us,* they scream when the quiet takes over the land.\n\n\n*Come and be mortal.*\n\n\nI have now fulfilled that wish.\n\n\n-\n\n\n*Hi, I hoped you liked this story. Check out r/PanMan for my other stories. Thanks for reading!*"
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[WP] You are driving on the highway in the dark, when suddenly you see a man stumbling out of the woods on the side of the road who falls down on the ground.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I was driving in a very rural area of Florida and it was 2:00 am. There is no one around and it's very dark and I mean very dark. I've been driving around over 2 hours after making a wrong turn off the highway. Thankfully I have enough gas but there is nothing but farm land, no houses near the road, nothing. \n\nOut of the corner of my eye a man stumbles out of the woods and then falls to the ground. I'm not sure what to do . My first reaction was to just drive away as fast as I can but I don't do this. For some reason, I feel the need to help this man. I stop the car and help him into my car. He sits in the front seat next to me. The man looks like someone beat him up badly. I ask him if he needs to go to the hospital but he shakes his head no. He tell me that he will show me how to get out of this place as it's a bad place to be in. He told me about a group of people who have been robbing and killing people on this road. 3 people dead and he didn't want to see a 4th person die. \n\nAfter about 15 minutes, I see I-10 and get on the highway traveling east towards Jacksonville. I noticed that the man is asleep so I stop talking. He had turned on a classic rock station which had Led Zeppelin Stairway to Heaven song. I hadn't heard this one in a long time. I also hear the song Spirit in the Sky by Norman Greenberg, followed by Spirits in the Material World, When the World is Running down by the Police. The last song I hear on the radio before getting to Jacksonville is In the arms of the Angels song by Sarah McLachlan. I'm brought to tears by this song. \n\nIt isn't until I get to Jacksonville when daylight appears and I'm getting breakfast at Burger King that I noticed this man is gone. I had been talking the whole time to keep awake. He told me he may or may not respond to me but to continue talking. Something strange had happened. I kept driving until I got home to Ponce Inlet where I lived. I got some breakfast, watched the news and then went to bed a couple of hours later. \n\nI woke up around 5 pm and turned on the news. Normally I don't do this but I felt compelled to do so. \n\n\"Another man has been found dead in along the rural road 15. This is now 3 people who have been killed on this road. One person who managed to escape said that out of nowhere 10 or 15 people appeared in the road., forcing the driver to stop. They dragged him out of the vehicle and into the woods. He manged to escape by hiding in the woods. Police searched the area and found nothing.\" said the reporter.\n\nI saw the picture of the man. This was the man who had stumbled out of the woods. He'd been dead for a very short time when I encountered him. He helped me escape in the arms of the angels."
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[WP] The aliens keeping you as a pet did NOT read up on their husbandry before they bought you.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
" “I can’t understand this” said Gblaxic, wiggling his blobbles in frustration. \n\n“What’s the problem?” said Plibtl, entering the domicile to help his annoyed friend. His glabble was sympathetic, but privately Plibtl had been expecting this since Gblaxic first brought home his humans. He’s so enthusiastic, but he never actually reads up on it! he thought. \n\nGblaxic pointed his trennids to the small tank on the table where the humans currently slept. When he got the first one it seemed fun, letting it loose on the floor and watching it climb everywhere. He made a small enclosure with a few books so it could run around and exercise a bit, and it’s little noises it made were cute too. He wasn’t sure about food, but it seemed to gobble down the frunknid meat he gave it every day. \n\nThen one day he heard they were a social species. That they need to be with a fellow, otherwise they get sad. So he made his second purchase, a female this time…\n\n“They don’t mate properly!” huffed Gblaxic. “I’ve done all the stuff. I put in the *al-ko-holl* that is so important”\n\nHe pointed to the discarded cans of Special Brew triple strength lager in the corner of the tank\n\n“I put on this *mu-sik* they apparently like” he gestured to a Plaz-format copy of ‘Smack by Bitch Up by the Prodigy “and let me tell you, that was expensive on the galactic Internet!”. \n\n“Is that everything you’re meant to do?” asked Plibtl.\n\n“Yes!” said Gblaxic. “Some people even said about this *rohmantik moovy* so I’ve put that on too” – in the corner of the tank, a small TV played Back Door Sluts 9 silently on loop. “And nothing!”.\n\nPlibtl rubbed his clomwip thoughtfully. “Have you actually looked at a proper guide online? Maybe that’ll have something”\n\n“You’re right” replied Gblaxic, defeated. “I need to look into this properly and stop messing about”. He wandered over to his computer, turned it on, and searched “human husbandry” in Gxxgle…\n\nA few days later, Plibtl visited again. When Gblaxic answered the door, he had a huge happy tmiksis on his glabble. “I’ve done it!” he said gleefully.\n\nGuiding his friend to the tank, he pointed proudly at his display. “Look!” he said. “I was just missing one key thing”.\n\nPlibtl looked closer. In the tank, he could see a large square of purple plastic packaging, in the corner. It was moving and writhing rhythmically, up and down, up and down.\n\n“They’re under….?” he asked.\n\nGblaxic nodded his groof. “That’s what the guide said I hadn’t included”.\n\nPliblt squinted and angled himself to better read the writing on the packaging.\n\nTROBBLE-BRAND PROFLILACTIC. TO ENHANCE YOUR PLEASURE, AND PROTECT YOUR BLARN."
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[WP] You are the God of Mischief. Today, you've taken things a bit too far and the other Gods are not happy.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"OPEN THE DOOR, YOU ASSHOLE!\" The beating on the wooden firmament that passed for a door definitely did not make him feel any happier. \n\n\"IT WAS A JOKE!\" The Goddess of Virginity shouted something back that was undeniably something rather rude and unfeasible with his exterior facade. \n\n\"I'LL SHOW YOU A JOKE, YOU UNBELIEVING ASSHOLE!\" The comment wasn't something that was compassionate or kind, even as he pushed himself towards the other side of the door. \n\n\"Harfald... A word, please.\" The voice of barely restrained fury was enough to send a shiver through the god's spine, as one of the doors fell away to allow the warrior god of bloody battlefields to streak through. \"Was that really necessary?\" \n\n\"Well... It would have been fun? See you have a little bit of a kerfluffle with the maidens...\" There was a sound like a strangled cat being put into a blender, an indomitable sound of rage. \n\n\"I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS, HARFALD!\" The irate goddess shouted in return, the bloodied hand around his throat shutting off any thoughts of escape. \n\n\"You shouldn't have poked a hole in them.\" The god whose hand was squeezing even tighter around his throat was enough for Harfald to make another sound. \n\n\"A goddess of Virginity getting pregnant... You've really screwed the horse today, little brother.\" The anger showed through in the voice, even as the god of mischief writhed a little. \n\n\"HARFALD! I WILL TEAR YOUR BALLS OUT THROUGH YOUR THROAT-HOLE!\" The angry goddess of maternity now shouted... and there definitely was a moment where Harfald could sense an impending doom harken ever closer. \n\nPerhaps it wasn't a wise idea to try and prank his older brother's condom box...\n\nBut at least he'd get a niece or a nephew out of it, even if his newly wedded sister-in-law would tear his balls out through his throat. \n\n\"Was it good?\" The god asked, before he was thrown right through the door, into the angry grasp of an enraged woman.\n\n\"Very.\" Came the answer, even as a battle-spear pierced right through his thigh."
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[WP] "Our time on Earth is limited", but only on Earth. Turns out that humans can only die on Earth and become immortal once they leave the planet.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Imagine the horror when we found out that we would be trapped in space for God knows when. \nWe were fated to go to our space mission for only 8 years and then go back. We were in deep space and slept for a long while. When we woke up we found out that an epidemic had started and killed off thousands. \n\nWith one year left on our space mission we didn't know what to do and we didn't know how we could go home. Day by day we'd get more information on the matter, it got more and more dangerous as the days went by. \n\nThat was until we found out that there were people immune to the epidemic. It was all people we know. How could that be? How is that possible? Is there something wrong with us? \n\nWhen we were a few months away from going back to earth we were all terrified, unsure of what will happen. That was until we got a call from Dr.Koothrappali that they saw the pattern and found out that only astronauts have shown to be immune. \n\nWhen we got back on earth we found out that the population had been halved we were terrified that maybe not every astronaut was immune, maybe we weren't safe after all. It was when a scientist decided to study John Young's corned beef sandwich and find out exactly what the astronauts were exposed to in space would help them find a cure. \n\nWhen they found out it was in pristine condition and almost didn't age a day they didn't know how how they plan to move forward. Around this time they found out that what had been killing off humans were a fast aging virus that takes their life in a span of a few days.\n\nThe realization when they realized everything was a matter of life and death for the rest of the population. They had to send humans to space as fast as possible. Everything was limited and they didn't have time to spare. Everything had to be perfect to set the plan in motion. \n\nAs a few years pass the world had depleted into a quarter of the population when we left for our mission. But we were determined we could find salvation for the rest of the humans."
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[WP] Each morning you wake up in a new body. You join a theater troupe and slowly realize everyone there is someone you’ve controlled.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"An audience of Americans broiling pink in the sun lounges before an outdoor stage. The traveling actors drape themselves in different bodies: a maiden in a ragged dress, a young squire with a nicked feather hat, some tinfoil knights with wooden rods. Blessedly, the theater's backboard and curtains hide the troupe's means of transportation from the general public. One must pretend trucks and trailers don't exist when within the confines of a Renaissance Fair. \n\nTheir productions were great. The troupe worked with what they had, making poor quality costumes and sets disappear behind expert delivery, and they operated as a cohesive unit. You believed in the royalty of the ragged princess. Perhaps they'd carry each other to greatness if they weren't so unnerving post-show. \n\nBeyond basic questions, none of the members of the troupe could engage with outsiders, and none of them could answer basic questions. A man in a Yankee's hat holding a tankard of rum insisted on seeing backstage and meeting their manager. One of the actors stepped forward; a random girl who had acted as Chorus #5. Unremarkable in every regard, save for the troupe's trademark placid smile. \n\nThe man manages to yank some information out of her. \"My name is Chance,\" she says. The troupe flies around, carting costumes up ramps and into open vehicles. They weren't speaking. The man was too buzzed to notice at first.\n\nThe man says words of praise and admiration, which promptly fall into the dust. Chance raises a hand in dismissal. \"We do fine,\" she says, \"It's all we have to do.\"\n\nThe night before the Renaissance Fair's last day, Chance leaves her body and finds somewhere else to lie. When he wakes up in the body of the tall Lord character, he sighs in relief. Every single time it happens, he prays to the gods of the Earth. Buddha, Christ, it didn't matter. It was another day of the same thirty-seven folks. Chance hasn't woken up in a new body for years now. He hopes to keep it that way.\n\nWhen she was young, Chance often begged her mother for Benadryl or Nyquil, something to drag her down into a dreamless sleep. Otherwise, she'd have terrible dreams, nightmares filled with night terrors and shadowmen. Every night, she'd be trapped under the covers, watching the darkest monster shamble through the lit door frame, push its toothy face closer and closer into hers, and as it opened its pearly maw, Chance would become it. Every night of her childhood, Chance would eat off her own face.\n\nSam, her best friend, was the only other person to know. He'd sneak into her house through her bedroom window like in the movies. They'd play with Barbies together, dress them up in the clothes of other toys, make them act like Sergeants in G.I. Joe's army, or armored with Bionicle technology and killing aliens. Anything to help distract. \"Look at me,\" he'd say, shaking her awake from her distress. \"You're here, you're with me. Let's play.\"\n\nIn Highschool theater class, Chance learned to control the dreams by putting her own body into other ones. Costumes and characters pushed the darkness away. The further the departure, the most unlike her the character was, the better her night's sleep. Until one day, when a thunderstorm cancelled class for the third day in a row, and her nightmares failed to be kept at bay by sleeping pills, Chance woke up in Sam's body.\n\nThus began the true nightmare. Chance in Sam's form found her original body, plastered with the first placid smile that would mark the beginning of its tradition. Some of the real Sam was still in Chance's body. She could beg some of his personality out. But he was curdled by this dark magic.\n\nThey ran away. Chance stole Sam from his life. Hers was not glorious, but Sam could have become someone. \n\nThey stole costumes from thrift shops, and masks from halloween stores. They put themselves in different bodies-- a pirate. A clown. A nurse. Anything to combat the nightmares. Sam complied, looking out of eyes that weren't his, smiling. \"Anything for you.\" Chance the bodythief vowed to never allow something like this to happen again.\n\nThirty-six times later, and Chance has collected an army of characters. Perfect actors, perfect cooperation. They'd do anything for their leader. They have been lucky so far. None of the troupe's members drew enough of a fuss to cause suspicion. Family members manage to see *enough* of their loved ones behind the placid stares to stop trying to tear them from their sudden traveling theater life. \n\nThe Lord body looked at Sam's silhouette as he steered the main RV away from the grounds of the Renaissance Fair. On the highway, Chance as the Lord began to cry. \n\nSam looked over, slowly, so slowly, his placid smile cracking through with something else. Chance waited to hear familiar words he used to treasure. *Look at me. You're with me. Let's play.* Sam opened his wobbling mouth. Words felt so close. \n\nBut he couldn't, not anymore. Personality had come and gone. He knew only enough to know the only solution to this problem, and it came to him in an instant. Sam floored the gas pedal, opened the RV's door, and painted the Highway with his blood."
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[WP] While traveling on the silk road, you encounter a traveling salesman, he offers you three items in particular, a golden necklace, new glasses, and an AK-47.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"\"Greetings, Traveler!\" the man said. He gave me a bit of a spook, since he seemed to come out of nowhere, though I guess I must have just missed him... Sitting in that market stall... In the middle of a barren stretch of road... Somehow...\n\n\"Hi?\" I said, an inquisitive tone in my voice.\n\n\"You seem familiar somehow, would you care to sample my wares? I can assure you of their quality,\" he said. His floppy hat was reminiscent of a medieval Italian merchant, though the vest looked distinctly Persian and his silk scarf looked to be from the far east. Overall, he looked a bit like a ridiculous mishmash.\n\n\"Uh... Maybe? What do you have?\" I asked.\n\n\"I have everything you need, Traveler. Unfortunately, you cannot have it,\" the man said.\n\n\"What?\" I asked.\n\n\"It is my curse, I am afraid. I have what you need, but it seems buyer's remorse is an eternal affliction for my customers. They always seem to realize they should've bought something else later in their journey,\" he said.\n\n\"Okay, so what do you have for sale?\" I asked.\n\n\"Only the finest finery this side of Finland, behold!\" he said, pulling a cloth off his counter and revealing a gold necklace, a pair of glasses, and... an AK-47? What kind of merchant is this guy?\n\n\"Why do you only have three items?\" I asked.\n\n\"Why does the sun rise in the morning? Why do you draw breath? It is the nature of things to be as they are, and I always have three items,\" he said.\n\n\"So what are these going to cost me, if I was to buy them?\" I asked.\n\n\"Ten ducats each, Traveler. All in working order, or your money back,\" he said. I only had eleven ducats with me, so I couldn't buy more than one of the items.\n\n\"May I take a closer look?\" I asked.\n\n\"Be my guest,\" he said. I picked up the necklace. It would probably be worth at least thirty ducats back home, maybe more from that red jewel alone. As I put the necklace down, the salesman leaned down toward it.\n\n\"An excellent choice, to be sure. Valuable in coin, certainly, but this particular one comes from royalty. I'm sure the Queen would be most grateful to anyone who returned her royal jewels,\" he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. \"I'd say you must have some interesting travels ahead if this is on the table.\"\n\n\"On the table?\"\n\n\"Didn't I mention the curse of buyer's remorse?\" he said.\n\n\"You know what, nevermind,\" I said. I moved over and looked at the glasses. Plain in decor, but the construction was fairly nice. I put them on, and saw some strange colors, trails, and patterns all over the place.\n\n\"Ah yes, those glasses grants the wearer the ability to see things as they are. Highly valuable to any enterprising explorer and puzzle-solver, I'm sure you'll agree,\" he said.\n\nI took off the glasses and began inspecting the gun. It felt hefty enough, and the mechanisms seemed to be in order. Unfortunately, it seemed to have no ammunition.\n\n\"The road is full of brigands these days, Traveler. This one will never miss your target, and comes with a lifetime supply of bullets. When you are leaving, of course,\" he said, leaning away from the barrel of the gun.\n\n\"How does that even work?\" I asked.\n\n\"We have ways, Traveler,\" he said.\n\n\"Okay... So what about the fourth item?\" I asked.\n\n\"F-fourth?\" The salesman asked, his seemingly unwavering composure cracking.\n\n\"The stall, what does it do?\" I asked.\n\n\"Uh... You can't take the stall, Traveler!\" he said, returning to his playful demeanor. \"You've got such wondrous travels ahead, this thing would only weigh you down!\"\n\n\"But what if I want it?\" I asked.\n\n\"You still can't have it, Traveler!\" he said, shouting this time.\n\n\"Why not?\" I asked.\n\nTo this, he sighed and said, \"Because... You cannot buy what is already yours.\"\n\nThe salesman took off his hat and scarf, revealing my own face underneath.\n\n---\nOof, blacked out for a second there. What had I been doing? Ah yes, selling my wares! There was something familiar about the traveler that was walking by my stand here, on this barren stretch of road. I couldn't put my finger to it, so I called out to him.\n\n\"Greetings, Traveler!\" I said.\n\n---\nr/AslandusTheLaster/"
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[WP] Describe the moments before, during, and after a major collision in which you were the driver.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"The dashcam showed nothing but darkness.\n\n\"After you.\"\n\n\"No, after you.\"\n\nBoth voices were barely audible over the pouring rain. A car door slammed and the sound of rain dimmed. The video feed showed an impenetrable wall of storm and water. It was a bad night to drive.\n\n\"Something on your mind?\" Asked a male voice.\n\n\"No.\" Replied my own voice. And then immediately: \"Okay, yes. Why didn't you tell me that you're basically running a terrorist organisation from the basement? From OUR basement?\"\n\n\"I did tell you. Why do you think we keep inviting all these frustrated young men and giving inciting speeches to them? You thought those were teaparties? Should I have emailed you? Put it on your action items list?\"\n\nAt this point during the recording, I did notice that the stranger's voice sounded very familiar. In fact, it basically sounded exactly like my own voice but lower in pitch. Like I was trying to sound masculine to impress cooler friends.\n\n\"I figured we were building a better world, doing good things. Community service. I trusted you!\" I said, now almost petulant.\n\n\"You think this is about you and me? We only started this thing. We don't own it, it's bigger than us. We are not special, there is no reason for you to feel entitled.\"\n\nThe video clearly showed the car veering onto the oncoming lane. Even in the pouring rain, there is no mistaking the approaching headlights of another car. A panicked yelp sounds through the car, followed by a sudden rustling. At the last moment, the view swerves and a collision is avoided.\n\n\"Jesus, Tyler. You almost got us killed. \"\n\nBut the other voice - the voice that sounded like me, imitating a stranger - was just laughing.\n\n\"Do you think this is funny? I don't wanna die dude. I have stuff to do.\"\n\n\"Do you? Are you sure?\" As the other voice - Tyler - spoke, the car slowly swerved back onto the other lane. \"Suppose this is your last night on earth, what would you wish you'd have done before you died? Build a house? Paint a self-portrait?\"\n\nI fell quiet. Perhaps the scariest thing was that my friend Tyler was actually sitting next to me, watching the video. But this was not his voice. He sounded way deeper. Actually masculine, not just faking it. I looked at him, sitting next to me. He just stared back, insisting that I continue watching.\n\n\"Life isn't a goddamn seminar, man.\" Said Tyler - fake Tyler, the one in the video. \"Life's not something you can control. Sometimes you have to just. Let. Go. Let go!\"\n\nFor the following minute, the car seemed to freely drift, as if nobody was steering. Far up ahead, a set of tail lights approached. There was no rustle, this time. No attempt to avoid collision at the last moment. Then came the crash. The video showed breaking glass and twisting metal, while the sound cut out entirely. Both cars were pushed off the road, avoiding trees by sheer luck. The car seemed to flip halfway through, but it was hard to tell.\n\nWhen the dust settled, the camera was turned around towards the seats. I was expecting to see another person in the car. But the camera showed only myself. Like I'd been driving alone the entire time.\n\n\"Think about it.\" Said Tyler, looking up from the video. \"Why would you possibly think that I was in the car with you, even acting the scene out to yourself like some kind of lunatic? Deep down, you know.\"\n\nI looked at him for a long time. Despite all the evidence, when I spoke the words, I still didn't quite believe it.\n\n\"Because we're the same person.\""
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[WP] A black metal band secretly incorporated ancient spells into their seemingly unintelligible lyrics. Unsuspecting fans who manage to memorize the gibberish and sing along begin invoking the ancient magic.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"A troll from the Finnish Necronomicon that dethklok awakens during an apology to Finland that turned into a concert. The act was unintentional, as they had found the song in an old Finnish book. The band was declaring the song the new Finnish national anthem. As the story unfolds, Mustakrakish can not be stopped by normal means, so Dethklok proceeds to write the first \"soft death-metal\" song ever to be written using medieval acoustic instruments. Mustakrakish is dozing off, when Murderface's \"dethphone\" rings. Mustakrakish wakes up, destroys the instruments, and all hope is lost. However, thanks to Murderface's short temper, he throws the phone in Mustakrakish's mouth, as he can not hear the person he is talking to and his call is lost. The pain from the spikes on the dethphone is too much for Mustakrakish, and he begins tearing out his own innards to get the device out of his system. He then proceeds to blow up, causing millions of dollars worth of damage to Finland.\nthe end.",
"\"Punk rock never dies!\" \n\nIt was such an innocuous statement at the time, something so random and out of context that it gave me a moments pause before I just shook my head and left with a chuckle. I had been employed for 3 months now at another dead end job, working night shift at a gas station. I would tell myself it's a necessary evil, study during the day, work the shit shift at night, push myself through this crappy phase and make something of my life. Just like usual though I kept blowing my money on booze and smokes and weed. I would get home in the early hours of morning and instead of studying I would waste away way to many hours scrolling through reddit and fb and YouTube with my vices keeping me company. Studies would fall by the wayside once again, and any money that found it's way into the savings account would trickle out just as quick. Three months and nothing to show for it but overdue papers and past due bills. \n\nBut I digress.\n\nI guess I'm starting the story here because this was the only definable moment I could trace things back to. Grant was 50 something, old as sin to me, and would take over the shift after mine. Most days as I exited the store, I would be leaving Grant bobbing his bald head to another punk rock or metal song. \"Good luck!\" I would yell over my shoulder each time in farewell, as my well of witticism was bottomless. That day was the first time he responded. I mused on this during the walk home, the joint I smoked helping.\n\nMaybe it was inevitable that when I got home I tossed aside the textbooks like usual, flipping open the laptop, and felt the muscles in my shoulders unclench as the familiar hum of fans came to. A snapshot of yesterday appeared on the screen. An essay with half an introduction completed, reddit on page 7 of the all, and another tab for a local birdwatching forum which was my only hobby. I minimized the essay first, pulling up YouTube to replace everything else. The result for 'punk rock' brought up compilations mostly, and for the next 3 months I journeyed.\n\nKiss lead me to Gun and Rose's, then Motley Crue and the Misfits. The music slowly became grittier and Grant started joking less about my mainstream ways. Then came Pulkas, The Beyond, and Korpse. Grant started coming in early and we got a shitty bluetooth speaker to play music on between customers. All was fine, even good, and the music became one of my biggest escapes from the drudgery of reality. That was until last night it least, something weird happened then. \n\nI remember getting startled back from my daydreams by the merry chimes of the doorbell, quickly smacking pause on the speaker and looking to the door. Grant's grinning face greeted me, and he gave me his customary salute as I flicked the switch to let him in. \n\n\"Hey dearie, how was your night?\"\n\nI shrugged, \"oh y'know how it goes, but found a neat band, you heard of them before? They're called Latreía.\" \n\nHe frowned slightly, pooring a large coffee and adding to much sugar. \n\"How'd you come across them? Doesn't ring any bells. Got a song by them ready?\" \n\nI grinned, \"shit really? I think this is the first time I found someone you haven't heard before. Of course it's this band too, none of the damn songs would download. Kept getting errors.\" \n\n\"Then how'd you listen?\" \n\n\"Got a CD from the folk festival yesterday, some guy was handing them out.\" \n\nGrant was behind the counter with me now, the store and pumps deserted and the clock flashed 4:08 on the till. He went to lean against the cigarette cabinet, his vape hanging out of his mouth as he chewed it thoughtfully. \n\"Its folk? Lots of little folk bands out there. Not really my thing.\" \n\nI shrugged, \"not sure why he was at the folk festival, its definitely metal. You'd like it. One song sounded familiar, I think the intro went something like this?\" \n\nI started humming the tune, my voice rough as I got a feel for the unusual notes. It started off low and guttural, a deep underlying cacophony invoking images of the deep sea. Just like when I first listened to it images came to mind unbeckoned. Of depts unknown and unexplored, of creatures beyond recognition of any organism that grew in the light, of tangled masses of sunken ships lost to memory and consumed by nature. The words came next. They weren't English, French, or any other language I recognized. Even their cadence was strange, the vowels and consonants getting emphasis in strange ways that followed no pattern and had no consistency. I have no idea how I recited them, but the first verse came easily. Then the second. Then a third. I don't know how many I sang, or if I was even following the original song anymore. Quite adrubtly I became aware of the trance I was falling into. \n\nHave you ever jumped into deep water? Falling and falling until suddenly the water catches you, and you hang suspended in its grasp with the surface high above? That's how I felt in that moment, and the realization brought me clawing to the surface. The silence was deafening in the moment following. \n\nGrant cleared his throat, opened his mouth to say something but seemed to second guess it and he took a swig of coffee instead. He tried again. \n\n\"I think I'd remember hearing them.\" \n\nHis voice was weak. \n\nI felt weak too, but forced a faint smile. The clock flashed 6:19 at me and something felt off. The morning was too deserted, and the sun looked like it was struggling to rise somehow. The last 40 minutes of my shift went by in silence, Grant and I both lost in our own worlds and no customers to bring us back. When 7 am came we wordlessly swapped the tills and I trudged home.\n\nThis morning I broke tradition and immediately collapsed into bed. That brings us to now. All I know is last night was weird, but it looks like tonight might be weirder. The air feels hollow and empty, not something I've ever noticed before. The sun looks tired. I feel it too.\n\nA message sits in the inbox of my account on the birdwatching forum. Its says \"We watch the watchers and heard your song, it was most special in our hearts last night. Watchers are common but singers are rare, please join us as we learn earth's songs. Meet us at 11 tonight by Slack Point to join in the celebration of your melody.\" \n\nBelow the message was a link to a news article:\n\nAt 4:10 am a oil tanker lost contact with shore crews. No signs of malfunction but the company has stated it's current wearabouts are unknown and that no crew members on board have made contact. Last sighting was from Slack Point, where there claims to be an eyewitness but his accounting of events has been dismissed due to the influence of prohibited psychedelics. The company is seeking dependable information about the event. Contact information to follow. \n\n\nI haven't responded. Can you even respond to a message that was sent with no username? I didn't even know that was possible. Maybe I've never known much of what is possible.",
"We always assumed it was just... special effects I guess? We didn't think that thing was real. They were always such an over the top band, such lavish lifestyles and excessive habits. The money they poured into their shows, the theatrics? Without compare. \n\nTheir recent album had a song in it, one about a terrifying creature that had been dormant for a millennium. That it would someday rise and take the land that, and I quote, must be taken. We had seen it rise, we had heard of it's damage, but again we all assumed it was a hoax. Theatrics from a band that has done far more absurd things than waking up a fake monster. \n\nWhen the album started flying off the shelves, the fans asked them to once again perform at the lake, but the group refused. They had seen the beast themselves, and while they all agreed it was the most metal thing they'd ever seen in a lake, that they had only survived by pure luck and would not awaken him again. Disappointment spread through the fanbase, so they took it upon themselves. When the first fan started blasting the music near the lake, they couldn't help but notice the surface of the water starting to vibrate. \n\nWhile this seemed bizarre and ominous, metalheads of this magnitude would not be deterred. More began to flock to the site. They trickled in at first, curiosity and a desire to be a part of something called the locals. Then they drove cross country, then from other countries. Suddenly, their fans were pouring in from across the globe with unprecedented fervor.\n\nAs the fans packed the lakebed, and space became scarce, they started to wade into the depths. The lake continued to shudder and ripple to their call, but it wasn't yet enough. \n\nThe band themselves arrived, hoping to warn their fans away and stop the ritual, but their presence drove the fans into a frenzy. They began to sing in unison, causing the water to rise, the once calm lake churned with such violent turbulence many fans were pulled under never to be seen again, yet they continued. No longer simply doing so in adoration, but answering the mind-bending call of the troll beneath the depths. \n\nDethklok fled in their helicopter, knowing that only ruin awaits their fans in the depths of this Finnish lake. \n\nMustakrakish rises."
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[WP] After trying a lesser-known urban legend that turns people into mermaids, you're now stuck under water in your bathtub frantically posting on social media looking for a solution.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Note to kids everywhere: Ariel is the smartest character in Disney history. She knew what she was doing when she gave up her voice; it sucks to be a mermaid.\n\nI wish I’d known that BEFORE I ruined my life and not afterwards.\n\nThere was an urban legend that reliably made its way around our little seaside town a couple of times a year. Old batty Ms. Evans was tired of her human life, or so the story goes. So she rubbed red snapper scales on her body, taped a bunch of them to her legs, and walked into the ocean. Everyone claimed that her legs slowly morphed into a fish tail, her body rapidly de-aged until she was young again, and she swam out into the ocean as a mermaid.\n\nObviously, this was just some stupid kid’s story. But never underestimate the power of the drunken mind to do incredibly stupid things. \n\nMy boyfriend had broken up with me earlier that night. He gave a really well-rehearsed “it’s not you, it’s me” speech that would have gone over better if my friend Laura didn’t call me two hours after the breakup to let me know that she’d seen Kevin making out with some tramp during her shift at the bar.\n\nI had a bottle of wine to myself, which in hindsight was not a good plan. After stumbling around my apartment for a while and scrolling through Netflix for an hour, I went to get something to eat.\n\nI noticed that there was still leftover red snapper in my fridge from a few days ago, when my aunt came by to make some of her famous fish cakes. I don’t know why she didn’t use her own kitchen, but maybe it was just an excuse to come visit.\n\nI thought about Kevin. I walked away from the fridge and punched the wall. It hurt. I thought about Kevin some more. I felt tears welling up, and forced them down by flinging the fridge door open as hard as I could. I wasn’t sure if I was happy or sad that the door stayed on its hinges.\n\nThen I remembered the old fairy tale. Laura was probably bored out of her mind at the bar, and what better way to convince her that I was ready to move on than the stupidest joke ever?\n\nI managed to de-scale the fish and only accidentally cut myself three times in the process. I rubbed them over my arm expecting to open up welts, but the scales were smoother than I’d expected.\n\nTime to get into the bath. I kept my bra and panties on (no sending nudes to your friends the day of a breakup, I always say), ran some water and got some tape. I taped up my calves with fish scales, and was surprised once again by how comfortable it was.\n\nAs soon as I put my left foot in the tub, I knew that something was wrong. My foot started ITCHING like nobody’s business, and started turning red. I thought I was just flushed at first, but the patches between the scales started shrinking, and new scales were growing to fill their place...\n\nI screamed and tried to lift my foot out, but it was too late. I slipped, fell into the tub face-first, and passed out.\n\n_I should have drowned._\n\nThat was the only thought running through my mind as I groggily rose from the water. My legs felt like they’d been tied together with concrete.\n\nI couldn’t look. But I had to.\n\nMy tail was lustrous, about six feet of hardened muscle and scales.\n\nI tried to scream, but couldn’t. The horror of what I saw was suffocating to the point where the only sound I could make was a wretched gasp. At least I still had lungs and my voice, but how did I...\n\nI touched the left side of my neck unconsciously, and was both nauseated and unsurprised to find a set of gills flapping there.\n\nIn the moments that followed, I was really happy that I’d brought my phone into the bathroom to take a picture. It was sitting there on the toilet, mocking me for not realizing the trouble I was getting myself into.\n\nI desperately searched through any and all social media accounts, looking for references to Ms. Evans. If anyone would know how to fix this, it would be her family. She had disappeared 80 years ago, but some secrets have a nasty habit of spreading.\n\nAfter a few false starts and a few awkward accidental Facebook likes, I found that Ms. Evans’ granddaughter moved back to our town 50 years ago. I found her obituary a few minutes after that. “Mrs. Azalea Andrews, born Azalea Evans, passed away on Sunday at the age of 87. She is survived by her son, Matthew Andrews, and her three grandchildren: Emma, Ingrid, and...\n\n_Kevin._\n\nI groaned. As if my luck could get any worse.\n\nAfter debating it for a few minutes, I called Laura.\n\n“Hey girl, what’s up?” I could tell by the cheer in her voice that her shift had just ended.\n\n“Hey, I hate to do this but...is Kevin still there?”\n\n“Don’t do this to yourself, Sarah. You’re better than this and you—“\n\n“It’s not about that,” I cut her off before I started to feel things again that would necessitate wall-punching. “Remember the story of Ms. Evans?”\n\n“The fairy tale about—”\n\n“It’s not a fairy tale. And I need to talk to Kevin. He’s one of her last descendants.”\n\n“It’s...it’s...” I couldn’t see her, but I knew that she had gone white as a sheet and was clenching her left hand so tightly that she cut into her own skin. She did that when she was scared.\n\n“Please. Is he still there?”\n\n“Y-yeah, let me go get him.”\n\nI didn’t know how she was going to convince him to talk to me; I expected that it would revolve around exposing his cheating self to his new fling.\n\nI didn’t have to wait long.\n\n“Sarah?” He sounded worried. As if he had any right to be worried.\n\n“I’m not gonna ask you to take me back. I don’t want you back. I want you to tell me everything you know about your great-great-grandmother.”\n\nHe sighed deeply. “I was afraid that you would say that.”\n\n“Well, if I could ask literally anyone else for help, I would.”\n\n“Are you in a bathtub or the ocean right now?”\n\n“Bathtub.”\n\n“Good. Stay there until I can get there, I’m heading over now.”\n\n“What about your new girlfriend?”\n\nSilence. If he was my only option for help, I really hoped I hadn’t ruined it.\n\n“I suppose I deserved that,” he finally managed in a defeated tone. “I’m guessing you’ve changed the locks?”\n\n“In the last three hours? No, of course not.”\n\n“Alright, Sarah. See you soon.”\n\nI hung up the phone, and burst into tears. Hopefully they would be gone before he arrived, but it didn’t matter anymore. This time, I’d ruined my life just fine without his help.\n\n __________________\nIf you liked this, check out my subreddit! r/NicodemusLux"
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[WP]You're an old, forgotten video game character, doomed to obscurity. Suddenly, one day, you receive a letter out of the blue. You've been invited to Smash Bros.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I'm a forgotten character from an indie game back when Nintendo first started. I'm Hazel Bloom, main character of the only Bloom game where you use your flower powers to steal money from the rich and give to the poor. At least, that's a summary of it. But when I get my mail on Sunday and theres a letter, with the official Smash Bros stamp, you can bet I'm surprised.\n\nBut, I don't see how I could work in this game. I would be the most basic character ever, and I personally am not up for it. So I know exactly who to give this letter to.\n\nI follow along to the main portal before straying to another area. The area where all the Assist Trophies are. Only one person I know deserves this place.\n\nI see him, and walk over. I silently slip him the letter, with a post it note that reads: \"You deserve it, not me.\" I know he can get in to smash now. I know that's what people want. They're dreams of having Waluigi in Smash are now true. And I can take care of my garden still! Win-Win!\n\n\n\n(I had to. I really did.)",
"I am the herebringer the first action game star on the SNES with 41 bit graphics I know amazing or at least that’s what the fans thought back then but the critics were ultimately right. I faded into the realm of obscurity just like they said. Only (barely) remembered for graphics.\n\nBut then you look at people like Pikachu he’s been in the same game 100 times and was only a starter pokèmon in one. I met him once, he was going to guest star in my second game but it got canceled. He was super entitled. He wanted all of the coffees he drink’s to be in our budget and we had a small budget! He even drank when filming for trailers. Between you and me I think my second game got cancelled because of him and I also think that I would be a classic hero like Mario or Master Chef if that game came out.\n\nEveryday I tell myself this life isn’t so bad. I get time on my own unlike Mario who’s constantly on press tours and filming games and between you and me I’m pretty sure those silent types have some type of contract to stay silent because I met a few before and well they never talked. Maybe their actually mute. I don’t think that true because I had a contract that I couldn’t have a girlfriend or wife. Where was I? Oh yeah! I can also retire. I saw Mario on tour once and he was like super tired which is wired because they let different people be Link. I remember the first time it happened there was outrage because the first Link wanted to be the only Link. He got fired because he wouldn’t work in 3D so he really brought it on him self. \n\nBut there is always something missing no matter how much I want to say there’s not. Recently my friends banjo and kazooe were invited into smash. Which is grate for them (even though I don’t think the rest of smash is ready for their constant bickering) but it just reminded me of how people like Mario and Pikachu are making millions of dollars and I’m pee poor (excuse my french).\n\nBut recently something changed. I got a letter from mayro (he was created as an Mario rip off and is still angry about his “early retirement” as we in the biz call it). When I opened up the letter I saw it. It wasn’t a ordary letter it was invention to smash! I was finally joining the big leagues!"
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[WP] There is only one temple left in the world. Not because of some Grand apocalypse, or rapture. People just lost interest in religion. As the preacher's son, you are expected to carry on the traditions of your faith, but lately you've began to hope for a different life.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Well, guess I'm first.\n-----------------------\nThe sun rose slowly that morning. A deep, rich orange rearing its lion head above the craggy peaks that outlined the horizon. Another day, thought Jaim, and still nothing changes. \n\nA gong broke the morning silence - the few followers left in the temple had risen already, apparently. \"Up and at 'em\" Jaim muttered with contempt. After all, the rest of the world had left religion behind - out with the old gods, in with the new. AI had already figured out most of what there was to know, there was no need for mystery deities to give hope to their worshippers. Everyone was far too busy for that, nowadays.\nDrowned in thought, Jaim failed to notice the shadows sprouting from the pillars that outlined his clifftop enclosure. The day grew into adolescence. A frustrated yell broke his peace; \"Jiam! You lazy git! Get up!\"\nJiam sighed, \"Got it, got it,\" he groaned.\n\nThe only thing followers were allowed in terms of amenities was a bar of soap and, of course, access to the enormous selection of books within the temple's library, dated 1500 through 2100.\nJiam decided to take advantage of the former. A cool, spring water shower knocked him out of his morning haze, followed by a cruel battering ram of a sharp, astringent coffee, courtesy of the source of the yell from this morning. Gem. \nGem was a hardened soul, shaped by a life atop that weather withered ridge. \"Move it, dumbass,\" he said, \"You're on the carrots today.\"\nJust. His. Luck. The dreaded carrots were well known among the younger members of the community as an easy way to harden hands past recovery and torture the back of your neck with the harsh, unbroken rays of sol. \n\nPast 2050, Earth was essentially abandoned. Expeditions to the Moon and later to Mars were used as terra-forming platforms, creating a mid-solarsystem oasis ripe for further exploration. And explore humanity did, leaving behind tradition and religion in the process. Of course, they thought for their original planet, fixing the mess they left behind and gradually allowing mother nature to take her continents back. \n\nThis left the once legendary ‘Mother Temple’ alone, nestled within the expanse of the Himalayan Mountains - her 50 or so inhabitants left to their own devices, with a solitary ‘solargraph’ in case of emergency. Said device could immediately send a signal to everyone within 700 light seconds, and with current methods of travel, help could come from Mars inside a couple minutes. \n\nIn the grand scale of things, he was pretty insignificant, Jiam pondered whilst scrubbing away at the freshly pulled carrots. He wished to explore the universe with the rest of humanity, away from the pullings and pushings of tradition. \n\nPerhaps that solargraph could come in handy."
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[WP] Your shadow has achieved sentience. It is mostly helpful, but also somewhat sinister
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"It wasn't really fun having your shadow become sentient. You'd think it'd be cool if you could have some actual friends for once, but having him stuck to you all the time is getting quite annoying for me, and to some extent him. The shadow doesn't really do anything special, he's a shadow, a big blob of darkness that somehow achieved sentience. I have no idea how, I just woke up one day, and he was talking in my mind. telling me to get off him, something about worsening his arthritis of something. We came to an agreement after I called in sick with my boss to work out what the fuck had just happened. the agreement goes that since we're inseparable, literally, and that if one of us dies, then both of us technically die, that we would act as \"roommates\" of some sort until I found some kind of treatment to separate us. He's been helping out at work and at my apartment for the most part; cleaning up our messes, ironing out our clothes, helping me with taxes, who knew shadows could be so good at finance? But recently though, I think he's been getting quite tired of our agreement, like he wants me to find a treatment to our \"case\" faster, or he's going to do it himself. Now this is just speculation, but the fact that I've had to call off two hitmen I had apparently hired to kill myself, or the fact that I got cyanide poisoning the other week, I think shadow has been taking this roommates thing a little too far. Of course it's all just speculation, but I better ask him when I wake up tomorrow.\n\n\"Hey, Shadow, I have a question.\" I climb out of bed, and avoid the suspiciously placed bear trap on my carpet.\n\n\"What's wrong, Chris?\" Shadow says as he manuevers around the bear trap, eating it up in his shadowy darkness.\n\n\"I was wondering.\" I begin slowly. \"Have you been trying to off me this past couple days?\"\n\n\"Why would I ever try to off you?\" Shadow reasons. \"I mean, in theory, you die, I also die.\"\n\n\"Yeah\" I begin. \"In theory, both of us die, but what if the theory isn't true, what if, through the death of one of us, the other is freed of his doppelganger forever?\"\n\n\"That's incredibly stupid.\"\n\n\"Yeah, it probably is.\" Ending the conversation as quickly as that, I got dressed, ate breakfast, where for some reason my breakfast cereal was replaced with crack cocaine. The brakes on my car stopped working on my way to my job, slightly annoying, but I just took the bus. Work was uneventful, aside from the fax machine blowing up and killing one of my co-workers. I picked up my car after work, and drove home. I made dinner, the gas leaked and caused a fire, so I just used an induction cooker. My meds were replaced with cyanide pills, so I just skipped them. The day was quite boring, to be honest, and Shadow seems calm for now. I retired to my bed, and went to sleep. I wake up, and rolled out of bed to have white hot pain erupt across my foot, branching to my legs and arms, consuming me with agony. I breathe slowly, and look at my now swollen foot to see what had caused this.\n\n\"Oh that little shit.\" Shadow really was out to get me. I stumble to my storage room, eyes disoriented, head dizzy from the pain. I took out the vacuum cleaner. I was going to end this, once and for all.\n\n\"Serves that bitch right for making me step on a Lego.\"\n\n***P.S. Critiques highly accepted!***"
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[WP] In a world where finding your soulmate brings the colour into your life, you notice that for some reason there are days that you see colour and there are days that you don’t.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Our love had been flickering for years, a candle in the wind.\n\nWe felt so lucky to have found each other so young, soul mates, some had said. Neither of us remember a time before we’d colored each other’s lives.\n\n“I just don’t understand you anymore! We aren’t kids anymore Jared.” She was exasperated, and so was I. We had grown apart.\n\nYou see when you are young you think to yourself. “I am who I am, take it or leave it. I’m not going to change.” But, that’s just not true. You are not the same person you were a year ago, or even yesterday.\n\nThere were days of course where we felt like our younger selves, fresh full of life and adventure. Those days were full of color and zest and an eagerness to please. Other days, laid heavily a soft greyness that made quite clear we’d grown to be different people.\n\nThat was what we thought. In truth, greyness had been flickering for a time beyond that. Sometimes pulsing on the sides of her vision. She thought she imagined it. We thought we had it figured out, it just had to do with our unrest as we grew older. We just needed to be more intentional.\n\nWe misunderstood. We didn’t realize that it didn’t make sense, a person can not fall out of love overnight. Even if we had, a soul mate fades from love to friendship, not out of companionship all together.\n\nYou may already know by now, it was a nearness of death that brought them on. Each flash of grey was a moment where unbeknown to either of us, death was near. They say my heart must have stopped many times before we realized what was happening.\n\nI like to think we were so wrapped up, loved each other so much that we couldn’t see beyond each other to even realize there was another possibility, besides one another.\n\n​\n\n(Quick edit for formatting and clarity)",
"Every child is told the same story from the day that they can talk. “There is color in the world, so many beautiful shades of red and blue and green. And when you grow older and find your soulmate, you’ll see all of the colors of the world!”\n\nI knew something was off about the story from the moment I heard it. Maybe I was a bit too cynical for a three-year-old, but what happened to people that never fell in love? Were they just blinded to the world forever?\n\nMy cynicism only grew with age as I saw how cruel the world was. People were homeless in the streets, or dying of illness, and they would be ignored if they couldn’t see in colors. As if they weren’t suffering enough all alone in the world, then you have to add to it?\n\nNot to mention the hideous torment for those who lost the one they loved. As soon as you lost the person you loved most, the color would leech out of your world literally as well as figuratively. How awful would that be?\n\nI decided at an early age that I would never find a soulmate. Even if I could ever trust someone enough to love them, I would prefer to see in black and white forever. That way, I wouldn’t have to worry about all light and joy being ripped away from me.\n\nMy friends all grew up and fell in love, and told me how much I was missing. I would pretend to be jealous, despite my relief. My friend Alex fell in love just before high school graduation with some random person he spotted walking down the street. Luckily, he caught up to them in time for them to notice him, and see as color filled up their world.\n\nThat was five years ago, and I’d hoped that I’d be able to avoid falling for someone once I graduated. In the workforce, I would be seeing the same people every day. I made sure to get an office job so that I didn’t have to worry about clients coming in and blowing up my comfortable little world.\n\nThen she came. Well, both of them really. Stella and Stacy started on the same day, about four months after I did.\n\nStacy...what could I say about Stacy to do her justice? She was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever met. Tall, blonde, and brilliant in spite of all of the stereotypes. As soon as I laid eyes on her, I saw what blonde meant. I saw the color green for the first time in her doe-like eyes, saw the color red for the first time in her floor-length dress. I was hopelessly in love.\n\nThe only problem with Stacy is that Stella came along as a package deal. Stella was shorter, with straight black hair and the most annoying cheerfulness you can imagine. Where Stacy was humble and kind, Stella was brash and irritating. Where Stacy was elegant and refined, Stella was clumsy and bedraggled. I guess that Stella was pretty enough in her own way, but her forced smiles and constant questions made her impossible to tolerate.\n\nI tried to get Stacy alone whenever I could. She had to know that I was the one, right? Or had she met too many people on that first day to notice?\n\nThe weeks dragged by. Stacy and Stella managed to negotiate their way into the same Wednesday-Sunday shift, while I worked Monday-Friday. Monday mornings were bad enough already, but they were so much worse without any color in the world. \n\nI put up with Stella’s incessant questioning for as long as I could, just in case I could get a word in edgewise to her best friend. She was annoyingly persistent though. I found myself answering questions about my life and my childhood that I hadn’t thought about in years. The more I told her, the worse I felt. How many secrets would I have to give away before she left me alone?\n\n\nOne Wednesday, two months after I started, I thought I would finally get my chance. I saw Stella go to the bathroom, and didn’t notice Stacy following her. I sidled over to her desk...\n\nIt was empty. A letter sat opened in the middle of the desk.\n\n_Asking Stella to deliver this on my behalf. I found my soulmate in the airport this weekend, and she was about to catch a flight to Berlin. I couldn’t let her go. This letter serves as my official two week’s notice._\n\nHorror struck me in that moment. She hadn’t been my soulmate at all. But how was that possible?\n\n“Bit selfish of her, don’t you think?” Stella had managed to sneak up on me while I was reading the letter.\n\nI turned to face her, and noticed that her signature grin was gone. She looked much more human without it, as she stared me down with those piercing blue eyes.\n\nShe had blue eyes. How had I never noticed that before?\n\n“What do you mean?” I replied incredulously.\n\n“Well, you obviously thought she was your soulmate, and she never told you that she’s a lesbian. Doesn’t seem right somehow.”\n\n“W-What makes you say that?”\n\n“Hmm, let’s see...maybe the fact that you spent every single second of the work day trying to get me to leave you alone so you could talk to her?” Her grin still hadn’t returned, and her eyes were shining brightly.\n\n“Can we talk about this outside, maybe?”\n\nShe nodded, and I was really glad that it was time for our lunch break.\n\nWe walked a block away to the nearby park and sat on a bench hidden in the shade of an oak tree. She smiled at me then, but it wasn’t her usual toothy grin. She looked wistful and lost.\n\nSuddenly, I wanted to hold her close to me. I wanted to give her the freedom to let her tears loose. I wanted her to put her head on my shoulder so I could comfort her, so I could tell her everything would be alright.\n\n“Well, here we are. Tell me, Percy, what color is the sky right now?”\n\n“Blue. Just like your eyes. Exactly like your eyes.”\n\nHer smile hadn’t changed, but a spark of joy lit up her eyes.\n\n“You weren’t pretending. You’re actually just that nice.” I was shocked to hear the words tumbling out of my mouth, and even more shocked to realize that I meant them.\n\n“There’s nobody else here,” she whispered.\n\n“There was never anybody else,” I whispered back, and reached out to stroke her cheek.\n\nSome losses are unbearable, but some are worth the risk. I shut my eyes to the colors of the world; they would be there when I opened them again. I drew her close to me, and all the beautiful butterflies of the world flooded my stomach as we kissed.\n\nTheir lips met, and the rest of the world melted away. After a lifetime apart, a lifetime of fear and jealousy and sadness, their two lost souls were finally where they belonged.\n\nTogether.\n\n __________________\nIf you liked this, check out my subreddit! r/NicodemusLux"
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[WP] You are sitting in the passenger seat, with your better-half behind the wheel. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, you see your spouse. In the car behind you.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"I don’t know what makes me look back. My mouth dropped open and I quickly turned back to the front, sliding down in my seat. \n\n“He-he cannot see this.” I muttered, shock at my bad luck leaving my mouth and eyes wide open.\n\nThe car sped up, but there was nowhere to go, we were on a empty road. Not a highway as such but a road with no quick off turns, after all why would anyone want to drive into a random field. No that was way too suspicious.\n\nWhy was He on this road? Everytime I used this road there had never been a single other person. It was the only reason I felt safe to drive with my better half. I had no explanations for Sam. How this could happen. Nothing.\n\nI checked over the dashboard to look at the speedometer, it was creeping higher and higher, soon enough... I looked behind me, Sam was gone, our car, our spare car was far behind. It probably didnt matter though, there was no way he wouldnt have recognised the car that was in front of him.\n\nAt least now if he hadnt seen who was in car seats I could maybe, just maybe have times to fix it.\n\nThe bushes were a blur, soon there would be this little corner, a hidden spot on a blind corner under a shady pine. In moments I was about to pull in, the wheel turning and-\n\nFuck! The wheel span, screeching tires, the car swayed rocking before taking off again. Only this time with a new friend. The police.\n\nIt wasnt long before they caught me, my poor old fashion car not standing up to law enforcements high horsepower engines.\n\nI knew they saw us, when they swerved, non-believing but by now there was mutliple police, it was probably on tape now. No time to waste there was still a chance. I reached out to my better half about to -\n\n“Hands in the air!” A voice shouted, cracking in what was probably fear. I could hear another police vomiting somewhere. I was not going anywhere though, not like this.\n\nI grabbed the arm on the steering wheel and was about to say something when pain blossomed somewhere, in me and then in them, my better more beautiful half.\n\nI looked at my better half, the half without much of our brain, most of it within my open skull capsule. That part of my face looked better though, that part of me was better at driving too. \n\nMy thoughts were slowing, my blood leaving my hands as the police still shouted and panicked. They all had the reaction I feared, soon my Sam, my dear husband would come over that road. \n\nSee- see me. In half... and yet I had been this way and alive... A monster... Im sorry Sam."
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[WP] A woman agrees to sell her first-born child to a witch for great riches and incredible luck. Beforehand, however, the woman had made a deal with a demon. Have the demon's child, and in return, gain eternal life. 9 months later, the demon and witch meet in the maternity ward.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"Two woman stood in the middle of the maternity ward of the newly build hospital. One had long neon pink hair, one green and one blue eye and bright red lips. She wore a violet off the shoulder top and a skirt that barely reached her knees. Both did little to hide the many tattoos on her arms and legs. Her feet where clad in black leather military style boots. The other one had long, slightly wavy brown hair worn in a ponytail, dark green eyes and scar across her left cheek. She wore a white leather jacket with rolled up sleeves, beige jeans and black knee-high boots. \n\n\"Charley?\" one questioned in a subdued, surprised voice, \n\n\"Vivian.\" the newly named Charley replied coldly with crossed arms. \n\n\"W-W-What are you doing here? I thought you were dead.\" Vivian asked desperately \n\n\"I will have to remind you that it was you who decided to up and leave without saying a word\" came the answer. \"So am I now going to get an answer as to why you decided that was a good idea to leave?\"\n\n\"I thought you would die like everyone else. And when I heard that your village was burned to the ground...I mourned your death in silence.\" Vivian grew quiet towards the end and her voice held a hint of sadness after a moment Charley smiled fondly at her.\n\n\"You big softy” she uttered fondly,\n\n\"So. Why are you here? I don't presume it's for charity.\"\n\n\"Hell no, nothing like that. I'm here for a contract I made. I was promised a child\"\n\n\"You too?\" Charley inquired \"I don't believe this is a coincidence. Long brown hair, hazel eyes and slightly crooked teeth by chance?\"\n\nVivian look slightly surprised by the apt description of the woman she too made a contract with. Charley deflated slightly but then straightened up again and with her head held high turned towards the door \n\n\"Well then lets see what we have to deal with.\" \n\n\\>>><<<\n\nAs the pair entered the hospital room the new mother turned towards them. Realising who they were she presented the child and demanded \n\n\"As you can see here is the child, so now uphold your part of the deal, I don't care who gets the brat.\" The pair looked at her tiredly. \n\n\"So where is my money and how to I know that I live eternally?\"the young mother asked. \n\n\"Always so greedy these humans. They never realise what they have until you take it away from them\" one woman said in amusement a grin creeping onto her face. \n\nThe other sighed and turned towards her partner \"So...the same deal as last time?\"\n\n\"Yes I believe that would be for the best. Let's not waste our time with her.\"\n\n\"So eternal life and great riches was it?\" one woman asked the young mother \"Yes, now get on with it I have things to do.\"\n\n\"Always so impatient.\" she mused as she took the child from her young mother and handed it to her partner. \n\n\"Well then let me give you my 'Blessing' .\" and with those word spoken she laid her hands on the now childless woman and after a moment turned around and started to leave with her partner taking the child back into her arms. The woman in bed grew steadily colder and more rigid and before the two left the room she heard\n\n\"Seriously you would think that they grew smarter over time. But nooo apparently stupidity is also eternal.\"\n\n\"Too true.\" The other replied \"Now lets go home and start decorating. We have a daughter to raise\"\n\n\\>>><<<\n\nOutside of the hospital Charley turned towards Vivian \n\n\"Its good that you're back. Please stay this time\"\n\n\"Of course\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nFirst time writing so criticism is very welcome.",
"As the elevator door opens, the strangers attempt to leave at the same time, then pause to let the other pass. \n\n\"After you,\" he gestures.\n\nShe smiles and holds the doors open for him.\n\nThey each take a step towards the maternity ward. An awkward giggle escapes her throat, \"I'm Jinny,\" she holds out her hand.\n\n\"Lucian,\" he responds. \n\n\"That's a name you don't hear very often! Are you visiting or are congratulations in order?\"\n\nHis cheeks hurt from the smile he just can't seem to shake, \"My first daughter. My others have all been boys. And you? Visiting I assume\".\n\n\"Adopting actually, my first child. I am not able to carry my own.\"\n\nShe bites at her lower lip. Why did she just tell him that? Is she flirting with him? No. She's never been interested in men. Something else then, to ease his anxiety, yes, that's it. He's nervous about raising a daughter, they're very different from raising boys. That must be it.\n\nShe looks up, room 314, \"this is me,\" she smiles again, but this time glad the awkward exchange is over.\n\n\"That can't be right,\" his smile now gone from his face and his heart in the pit of his stomach. \"You've got the wrong room number, my daughter's in there.\"\n\nDefensive, she pulls out her phone and shows him the text message...\n\nTHE BABY IS HERE. MATERNITY WARD ROOM 314 OF THE PRINCE ALOYSIUS HOSPITAL - MIRANDA\n\n\"Miranda,\" the air temperature drops with the sound of her name. His fear devoured by rage. How dare she?! She has no right to give my daughter away! And to this wome... \n\nThe realisation hits him suddenly. Witch! Why didn't he pick it up earlier? He was so caught up in the ecstasy of his daughter's birth that he'd dropped his guard. The witch can wait, it's Miranda that needs his immediate attention. He needs to get his daughter and leave Miranda to sort out whatever deal she made with the witch.\n\nHe slams the door open and closes the distance to the bed in two strides, Jinny enters and blocks the doorway. No one is leaving this room until she has the child she was promised.\n\nMiranda is sitting on the edge of the bed, the baby bundled tight to her chest. Her eyes, red and wet, slowly lift to look at the demon and the witch she'd made deals with. Wealth and immortality. It all seemed so petty now. \n\n\"No use crying about it now,\" he spat, \"you only have yourself to blame.\"\n\nHe reaches towards the baby. She's so small. Too small. He hesitates.\n\n\"She's sick,\" Miranda's tears start flowing again, \"It's her heart. The Doctor's don't think...\"\n\n\"The Doctor's don't think what Miranda?\" Fear wages war against his anger. \n\nJinny softens her stance and steps to get a closer look at the baby, \"they don't think she'll make it, do they Miranda?\"\n\nMiranda sobs as she nods her head. \n\nJinny's eyes lock with Lucian's, \"what the Doctor's don't know, is that this babe has us on her team, and we will do everything in our power to keep her healthy, safe and happy.\"\n\n\"Come Hell or high water,\" Lucian adds.",
"\"Honestly, Kim. Did you not consider that this might cause issue? Have you no foresight? I, for one, am appalled at the lack of ethics you have applied in your decision making processes. You humans are just so.... fickle.\"\n\nThe demon, with obvious chagrin, cast his eyes downward to the cup of weak tea clasped by his leathery hands. The milk had not been stirred, and swirled around in the cup without direction. His thoughts meandered briefly into the realm of metaphor as he compared his own purposeless actions to the listless beverage that grew colder with every painful minute that he sat in that sterile white room.\n\n\"Bloody hell, Seir, it's not the end of the world. Act as if reality is falling apart why don't you. Which one of us just squeezed a demon prince out of her effin' womb? Me. I'm spent, mate. Gimme' a break.\" Kim dropped her head back against the pillow. It crinkled as she did so. Cheap crap, she thought. She looked down at the child in her arms. She concluded that the sleeping baby looked normal enough. Well, her father was rather beautiful when he took on his human form. Maybe this babe has a beast form like her father. The child wasn't by rights hers any way she looked at it, so she supposed it didn't really matter either way. She couldn't bring herself to care - she had stopped caring a long time ago. Her life seemed like a string of trauma upon trauma, compounding against her heart and mind until she could feel no longer. So, what did she have to lose in dabbling with the otherworldy? She had been kicked around enough. It was high time she made good out of this bullshit existence.\n\n\"Pardon me for interrupting your thoughts, but he's right.\"\n\nThe witch held an ineffable expression on her exquisite face and a cold tone in her words. Her perfectly formed ringlets moved gently in the breeze blowing through the opened window.\n\nKim looked up from the child and stared out from hooded eyes.\n\n\"You witches. You're a hard to read bunch but I tell you what - you all think you're better than the rest of us. Anyway, aren't your lot supposed to be mortal enemies? Why aren't you battling it out with each other? Throw some magic around or some shit. Why are you agreeing with him?\" \n\"Actually, witches and demons carry a rich history of familiarity. Considering the promises that you've made, you could certainly do with some schooling on matters of the occult. I don't think you are quite grasping at the weight of this situation. You see - \"\n\n\"Jesus, I wish you both acted a little bit more like you do in the movies. Raging hell fires, cackling laughter and warts and... and... where are my riches? Am I immortal yet?\"\n\nThe demon looked up from his tea. In all the time he had known her, Kim seemed to show no signs of growth. She remained stunted, as though eternally stuck in the mind of a petulant child who could not be reasoned with. He wondered if it might have something to do with the white demon she used to speak with on those long and sleepless nights. The demon would tempt her, and she would pack him into her glass pipe and take his essence into her lungs. She was no stranger to trade-offs. In that case she had been trading little pieces of what remained of her humanity for some sort of sense of relief from the suffering that had long clutched at her. At least if she didn't sleep, she wouldn't have the nightmares.",
"\"You are not welcome in my presence, Demon. Return to your plane lest I banish you there.\"\n\n---\n\nI hold a moment, amazed at this mortals sheer *gall*. Did she think me some mere imp, to be summoned and commanded for trifles at her whim? Some bitch league demon bound by contract and law? Fool.\n\n\"Silence, mortal wench. True forces are at work here, *mine*, and you are neither worthy of nor welcome at their inception. I am here in the flesh, armed with the whole of my power and unbound. Were this not a day of glory I would drag you to the Pits myself for your insolence alone.\"\n\nHmph. Mortal witches, disgusting. Wielding their worlds power in a pathetic imitation of a *real* planes magick. Fit only as servants for beings of *true* power. Servant... hm. Perhaps I will capture her and have her serve as my sons nursemaid, he would grow stronger more quickly with the aid of one of his own kind. Yes, I will first take him home with me then have one of my generals return to break her to my service. Perfect.\n\n---\n\nDamned scaled goat monstrosity. He not only ignores my command to begone, but threatens *me* on *my* world? *Me*, Witch Queen Cadsuane? Perhaps a true *Lord* of one of the hells could *barely* rival me in power, but this random upstart? Tsk. Mustn't lose my temper over trivialities, my dear baby boy is born at last. Hardly the time to be eliminating random planar invaders. Took me decades to secretly raise a surrogate, having passed *my* physical prime centuries ago, but raise her I did. Made her think promising me her firstborn was *her* idea, bless her heart, then granted her everything I dared to give a mortal. Let's see now, follow the blood resonance, there he is. Hold on, there's a magick worked on him, a glamour? Let's see what's hiding unde-*scales* and *horns*!?\n\n\"What have you done to my *son*, Demon?!\" I scream, shifting all three of us to my cottage, calling forth all the magicks I've woven over a millenia and more to shield my son and bind this Demon on every level.\n\n---\n\nI grunt and catch my bearings as I ignore the wench's unintelligible screeching, something about \"Demon Son\". She noticed my son, did she? Brought us here, caged him in some sort of magical bubble while binding me? Bold! Hahahaha, to attempt to enslave my Son on his very day of birth, as I bare witness no less! Oh yes, she'll make an *excellent* servant for him after all!\n\n\"Mwahahahahahah, so be it! Let this land be torn asunder and its skies cast ablaze to herald the rise of my Heir!\"\n\nWith a casual swipe, I reach out and shred the Veil around me. \n\n\"Your magicks might be able to bind me here, but know this, mortal wench! You face not Lord Malchezaar alone, but the legions I command!\"\n\nMy generals pour out from the portals I rend open, leading my army into this plane. So *easy*, as the Pact that binds all planes allow me full use of my powers to retrieve my legitimate Heir. Still, removing this binding will be no trivial thing. A worthy servant, indeed, to bind even a true Lord of Hell. Regardless, as my legions pour forth to do battle my victory is at hand. \n\n---\n\nBy the Eye an actual Lord of Hell!? I quickly awaken the forest nearby, an army of Ents grown and ensouled by my own hand over the centuries. Bit of a hobby, really, as I'd never expected a war to reach my home in this day and age, but I'm glad I've stayed productive! Gardening is a truly rewarding use of time, indeed.\n\n\"You *dare* summon your legions *here*, Hellspawn? How long can you blind the heavens to your act? Even should you return to the hole you crawled out of, the magicks of the Pact will see your body unmade and your very soul unravelled!\"\n\nMore and more of these damned creatures are pouring out of those portals he opened. Hmph. Can't imagine how he even managed it, come to think of it. *Nine* portals? At once? He should only have access to such powers on a Plane of War, or a Battlefield of Despair, not *here* where Mother Gaia shields all. Why, you'd think the Mother had agreed to it! Well *I* certainly haven't! As I cast a second of his generals to the earth with the curse of stone, I awaken the ground to rise as Golems and protect my son while the Forest itself rushes in from the surroundings to bury his army. What evil has he even wrought on my son, to turn him into his own kind? Did he truly think I wouldn't bring even my very life force to bear, to avenge such a thing?\n\n---\n\nDisgraceful, a *second* general fallen on this plane, destroyed. Impressive, but I *do* still need my toys if I'm to play the game. Fortunately the Witch is far from powerful enough to slay my legions *and* reinforce my bindings. Just about broken free and...\n\n\"HAH! You threaten me with the Pact, Witch? With my Heir caged in your magicks? Let the heavens witness and your Mother *scream*, Bitch! I exert my power on this plane by right, in defense of my Son!\"\n\n---\n\n*His* son? I wrap myself in a golem of pure, natural Diamond as he rushes to do battle with me directly. All that magick and he charges at me to *brawl* of all things the idiotic, barbaric goat. Well, let the golem entertain him while I use magick to slip out through the foot, tunnel through the ground and inspect my son. Yes, certainly my son, there's no mistaking that bloodline, yet... he *does* have Demon blood as well!? It's strengthening him, actually, especially with all those portals opened up. I'll admit I didn't concern myself over who the father was, I've been alive much too long to worry myself about the trifling mortal problems of *genetics*. Still, to think she'd lie with a *demon* of all things. Hrmph, like this even if I put my life on the line to kill this damned goat there will be six just like him coming to kill my son and end the line. \n\n\"Hold, Demon!\" I shout from my sons side.\n\n\"I acknowledge he is your Heir, and swear no harm upon him. Know that he is *my* son, the son of Witch Queen Cadsuane, and if you insist on taking him from me I feed your entire legion and consign my own soul to oblivion to see you dead!\"\n\n---\n\n\"**STAY YOUR HANDS, ALL OF YOU!**\"\n\nThe Witch Queen? Damned, but she dares plot against ***Me***!?\n\n\"Disguised or not, Witch Queen, your Oath was given. In exchange for severing your mortal bonds, you bore my son and agreed to surrender him to me on his birth. I will take him now, or wage war against you and your Mother both to claim him! He is mine by right! Scheme against me as you will but I will not yield him!\"\n\n---\n\n\"I made no such Oath, you hooved oaf. I raised a surrogate borne of *my* blood, to give birth to my heir. I never expected her to make a pact with a demon, nevermind a Lord of Hell, of all things. Sense his bloodline for yourself if you wish, he is mine every bit as much as he is yours, and while my surrogate gave up on him I absolutely have not and will not.\"\n\nHmph, at least he's done bellowing. Never spoken much with demons, nevermind Demon Lords, more of a lady of action, but I still know a look of stupefaction when I see one. Bloody demons all over the place, well, this isn't so bad. Saves some trouble, really, males don't inherit magickal talent but with both our bloodlines merging I hardly need to worry about my son being stuck as an ordinary mortal now. Never considered seeking out an Outsider as a father with all the troubles doing such a thing as the Witch Queen would bring, but it seems I've lucked into a loophole and my surrogate has to bear all the burden.\n\n---\n\nThrice Damn it all, it's true. He is Heir not only to my noble bloodline, but the Witch Queen's as well. Interesting, the power of my plane and this one seem to be mutually enhancing him. Glorious! Hahahahahahahaha, Mother Shahraz has been breeding maggots with every race for eons and has yet to produce a single one with merged bloodlines! Now *my* Heir possesses the power and birthright she's sought by sheer luck!\n\n\"Hahahahahahahahahaha, you actually let your surrogate bear *my* Heir? Amusing! Very well, Witch Queen. You sensed his bloodline for yourself, you know as well as I that he is merging the magicks and innate powers of both our bloodlines and our planes. Know too, that as Heir to Lord Malchezaar his enemies are beyond counting and their power without measure. His rise will require my power and that of my plane, lest you wish to see *our* son destroyed? Hahahahahahahahaha, come, come, my legions, return home now. Let us bargain, Witch Queen. We will need to arrange for him to gain *both* our realms powers, if he is to survive! Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha\"\n\n---\n\nTsk, seems he caught onto the advantages right away. Guess there's the occasional thought in that goat after all. Well, no harm to me. With Mother Gaia protecting him and a Plane of Hell empowering him I'll get to raise my son to surpass me properly after all. Hmph. Hardly going to let that goat *raise* him, but Demons never really raise their own anyway, just cast him off to grow or die, so hardly a problem there. Suppose I'll just have to raise him up with the intent of uniting the Hells as King to get him some peace. Troublesome, but then, with my garden a shambles I *do* need a new way to pass the time.",
"Many doctors gathered around Rebecca. They were prying with their flashlights, collecting samples of the oily black discharge that ushered the hellion into the world. She had her little meal ticket bundled in her hands. \n\nWhile the hospital staff buckled at the medical anomaly that transpired before their eyes, the social worker finished up the relinquishment of Rebeccas parental rights. She thanked the little monster, and handed him over to the custody of Angelique.\n\nWitchcraft used to be a bit like making a stew and baking a cake in the same pot. You had to render strange ingredients into their most simple components to extract what you needed to complete a spell. These days, Angelique could just swing by a supplement shop, a Mega-Mart, and the farmers market and curse half the town for under $100. But her next spell required much more. To devour an innocent soul. \n\nToddlers are quick to lose their innocence. The moment a child lies it's soul is impure, and babies are quick to lie. When they learn crying equates to attention, they abuse their power and thus become ineligible for consumption. The only sure way was to pluck the berry before it ripens. Angelique had prepared a mimic spell, a soulless homunculus that would legally be the child she adopted, but the soul and body of Rebecca's first born would be part of a spell that would give Angelique ultimate power. \n\nAngelique watched from the glass window, as they brought her feast into the mass nursery of newborns. She made her way up to the room Rebecca was resting in.\n\n\"The paperwork is done?\" Angelique asked, her heels clicking and clacking the tile as she approached.\n\nRebecca looked up at the slender woman, a vision of a Manhattan socialite in all noir black. \"Hes all yours...Officially.\"\n\nShe cracked a smile, and pulled from her pocket a clove of garlic. It was blessed with good luck and good fortune. Angelique approached, and sliced Rebeccas stomach. \n\n\"The clove will never rot, and never be severed from you. \" A wound streaked ribbons of blood down Rebeccas still swollen stomach. It pooled on the synthetic sheets of the bed. Angelique inserted the clove, which descended the wound, and healed the flesh as it became fully submerged in her skin.\n\n\"Have fun, kid. Remember me when your famous\" Angelique laughed as her heels clicked and clacked down the hall back to the nursery. \n\nWhen the sound subsided, a man crept into Rebeccas room. The likeness of a man, handsome, and well groomed. His walk jerked and slid as if he had never walked before, only witnessed a man walking. \n\n\"He is born?\" He said, ten voices spoke as one.\n\n\"He is.\" Rebecca answered.\n\n\"Then you shall have enternal life.\" He said, as he approached the bed. He grabbed her arm and sank his gangly nail into her skin. \n\n\"May you live the rest of your days feeding on the blood of the innocent, as a vampire walking the night.\" He snarled. \n\nHer belly burned and twisted six ways as she screamed with pain. She clawed at her stomach to remove the witch's garlic.\n\n It would remain there until the day she died."
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[WP] After conventional jobs become obsolete, people fight to win money and social status through video games.
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"**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.\n\n**Reminders**:\n\n>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include \"[Poem]\"\n>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail\n>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Reality+Fiction\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A\\(Simple+Prompt\\)&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles\n>* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules)\n\n[](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^•\n[](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^•\n[](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^•\n[](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^•\n[](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/XYsEYfS)\n\n*I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*",
"*(part 1/2)*\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe AI-controlled enemies crumbled under the effects of a single click of the mouse. Every couple of seconds, the speakers would erupt into a short series of gunshots, signalling the end of another autonomous entity. While every shot wasn't on target, the shots that mattered *were*; a finely-tuned balance between efficiency and fallibility. With one screen dedicated to the game, the second showed a real-time representation of what was happening behind the scenes. A multitude of encoded calls and responses that the average layman would never see, much less understand.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"Are you crazy..?\" The nervous, almost dissenting voice had been chiming in her ear for the past half-hour. They were seeing the fruits of a week's worth of work for the first time. In their defence, this was quite the bold plan. But, if it worked, the two of them would be set for life. \"You *know* what'll happen to us if they figure this out.\" With a few keyboard presses, she expertly commanded her in-game character to leap into the warehouse through a first-floor window. Within three seconds of the gun being raised back to a neutral position, the four hapless drones within lay dead, sleeping off their proverbial lead enema for the next few seconds before the game cast them back into the fray.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"They won't figure it out.\" Her matter-of-fact response was quiet and ever so slightly weary, as if she'd gone through all the facts and supplementary information surrounding her carefully orchestrated plan a dozen times. \"They can't.\" Nevertheless, after more than one sleepless night getting everything to work *just so*, she afforded herself a cocky grin as she finally looked over her shoulder, her hands falling away from the mouse and keyboard. \"Look. They still haven't found the backdoor I snuck into their beta-test servers three months ago, right?\" \n\n&#x200B;\n\nDespite the lack of input, the game continued to move without her. The AI - a composite taken from millions of combined hours of gameplay from the game's top one thousand players - did as they were commanded. The snipers hung back, peeking through doorways or windows at obtuse angles in order to see precisely what they needed to see without exposing themselves for anything longer than the bare minimum. The support soldiers had cycled through their hierarchical list of desired recipients of their specialised assistance and had latched onto a target accordingly. No matter the character the AI was assigned, the AI would play them at a level approaching the pinnacle of what the playerbase had to offer.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThey had an encyclopedic knowledge of the layouts of every map in the game. They knew where to throw grenades to complement - and counteract - any conceivable strategy. Explosives hurled over rooftops, perfectly timed so that their fuse would reach its end as it fell to the ground on the next street, right when the enemy team was trying to make a flanking push to reach their objective. But the AI would never see the light of an actual public game server. The entire environment was an emulated copy, segregated from the internet at large by virtue of not being hooked up to the game's \"master server\". It was a testing bed. A laboratory, almost. \"I'm able to grab copies of any patch data they create, months before the rest of the world ever get to see it.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIn the game, her character was watching the virtual world go by. However, whenever an enemy player crossed into their field of view, the entire scene would shift of its own accord; slickly moving across to regard them with the business end of the reticle dominating the centre of the screen. \"This thing's so far ahead of the curve, the graph can't even see it.\" Wiping a frond of brown hair away from her eyes, she let out a small sigh. \"So just relax, okay?\" Her hands clasped the top of her knees for a moment as she pushed herself to her feet, freeing up the comfortable leather chair for her companion. \"This game's still using Version 10 of CX4. The only thing you'd get tagged for is logging in on a new machine.\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\nAfter shutting down her testing server and ensuring that everything else was in place for the opening phase of their plan, she double-clicked the icon for the game she'd just been playing. This time, it was the real deal; the entryway to the official servers overseen by the game's development team. After the transition to a gaming-centric society, protections against unfairness and 'morally reprehensible' acts conducted inside those games had quickly been written into law. Development companies were no longer merely encouraged to police their virtual battlegrounds. They *had to* and did so, twenty-four hours a day. Whatever the automated systems didn't catch, the human element would.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nBut she was ready for all of that. \"Okay, Kheya. If you say so.\" Seeing the login screen, her companion sat himself down, prepared to submit to muscle memory. His fingers had barely got to the fourth letter of his username before a set of tanned hands clamped down on his wrists. \"The fuck are you doing?\" She *knew* what those four letters - in that specific order - meant. \"Were you *seriously* gonna log on with your real account?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"I though--...\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"You *thought*?\" With a sharp movement, she tossed his hands aside. \"Clearly you didn't.\" Five grumbled syllables accompanied her reaching over for a piece of paper. On it, she had scrawled a list of borderline gibberish; something both of them understood fluently. Usernames and passwords; over a dozen in total. \"Look. Rule Number One on this little escapade of ours?\" Her finger tapped the list before sticking it to the frame of her second monitor, the one not being used for the game. \"You log into *these accounts only*. Got it? Work your way down the list. Use the first one, play 'til you get tagged for suspension, then immediately cash out.\" After multiple cases where legitimate players had been in danger of losing both their fortunes and their livelihood due to either false accusations from their vanquished opponents or false positive responses from the far-from-infallible protection systems like CX4 and its ilk, the law had been amended so that any accounts suspected of illegality had to be placed under suspension review before any further action could be taken.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nIt was a double-edged sword. It helped the best players continue to earn a living... \n\n&#x200B;\n\n&#x200B;\n\n...but it helped people like Kheya game the system for personal gain. \"Rinse and repeat 'til we're out of accounts. I've got shit set up so that anything you cash into the account I showed you will get bounced around before being paid back to us.\" In between coding stints, she'd been briefing her more morally-conscious companion on the intricacies of their plan. With the sheer number of people playing this particular game in pursuit of wealth and social renown, Kheya hoped that their scheme would just blend into the background. \"Basically, anything you cash in is gonna launder itself. So just stick to the script and you'll be fine.\" The *script* was a set of rules dictating the types of matches they would play and guidelines for how much they could wager in a given game. Nothing too showy and, regardless of how lucrative they could be, *definitely no 1v1s*.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nTaking part in a 1v1 wager match with this sort of assistance in play was the equivalent of taking a real gun and shooting herself in the foot. They might as well have voluntarily turned themselves in at that point. Literally all of the eyes in the server would be on either her or her accomplice. Making money out of the wager-enabled team games was slower, but safer. \"No matter what happens, you *don't* deviate from the script. At all. Got it?\"\n\n&#x200B;\n\n\"G-.. Got it.\" Kheya watched as her accomplice did as instructed and, within moments, was already jumping into their first match of the evening: a *Team Deathmatch* game. It didn't take long for her to see her work bear fruit. After ninety seconds, he was outscoring the rest of the team combined and, barring a few run-ins with helicopter miniguns and the occasional carpet bombing, he stayed there. \n\n&#x200B;\n\nBetween the number of kills he'd accumulated and the associated bonuses that went along with such a stellar performance, fifteen minutes of 'effort' had netted them a shade over three thousand dollars. It was always going to start out slow. Earnings increased in lock-step with the amount one had to wager and, by the time she tagged in for her first shift, Kheya could see that their first account's wallet was sitting at *$74,300*.",
"With the piping hot needle waiting patiently on the floor, a canary puss oozed out of Kristof's blister. He squeezed the edges, making sure to drain every last ounce of filth from his talented hands.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n*Ssssssssssssssssssss.*\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThe canary puss spilled over the edge of his thumb and painted the rosewood canvas that was his office floor.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n*Drip. Drip.*\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA messy task, but one that must be done if you were to continue being the Latin American Alliance's prized prodigy. Kristof blinked twice in rapid succession, the optical information system - OIS - embedded into his contact lens opened.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n*Maid service*, he thought, bringing up the contact list for the dozen different maids under his employment.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n*8pm*.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nThat was all. Kristof hoped the agency would send Cathy - or Holly, he couldn't remember - as the music she danced to while cleaning reminded him of his late mother dancing in the kitchen.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nKristof glanced down at his hands. These days almost every square inch was covered in calluses, however, the odd blister began to form from time to time. The blisters needed to be taken care of immediately. With the thumb's hinderance now drained, Kristof picked the needle up off the floor and sanitized it with his butane lighter.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n*Ssssssssssssssssssss.*\n\n&#x200B;\n\n*Drip. Drip.*\n\n&#x200B;\n\nHe placed the needle back on the floor, picked up his PSXV controller, and went to work. With his back rested up against his soft leather chair - real leather, not the kind gypsies would sell outside of the teleportation entrances - he toggled to his favourite game, *Farmville.* With the trained memory of a dozen years, Kristof absent-mindedly watered, harvested, and re-planted his crops.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n*Ping!*\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA message from his agent, Rafael Sudan, was queued for his convenience. *Play,* he sighed to himself.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n*Kristoff, Raf here. Get off of Farmville, there's no money to be made watching your virtual crops grow.*\n\n&#x200B;\n\nKristof moaned, but he knew Raf was right. Using his weathered controller, he reverted to the PSXV menu and selected *Call of Duty: WW4*. He repeatedly tapped the X button to skip the pre-game intro, a montage he had seen thousands of times. He checked his in-game wallet: $44,142,991. His prizes for the month. He selected the multiplayer menu and toggled his game mode preference to *1v1 quick-scoping* on the map *Rust*.\n\n&#x200B;\n\n*Noobmaster69 has joined the game.*\n\n&#x200B;\n\nA worthy opponent, Kristof could see, from his $10,000,000 in winnings the past week. Kristof placed the wager at $250,000 and *Noobmaster69* quickly doubled it. *A half million dollar game,* he thought, *confidence, accept*. The game began and Kristof immediately put his sniper rifle onto his back, for a split second he stared at his character's soft, beautiful hands. Mobility was what he was after now.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nKristof climbed to the map's central tower and perched atop. Now with the gun in hand, he was an eagle scanning the ground for its next meal. *Noobmaster69's* head was unguarded. Kristof leaped off the tower and spun once, twice, in the air. One shot was all it took. The victory screen was up longer than the game had been played. *Noobmaster69's* head was in the corner, blood flowed out from between their eyes.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nKristof toggled back to the in-game wallet: $44,642,991. He selected the next game, *Rust*, *1v1 quick-scoping*, and went back to work.\n\n&#x200B;\n\nEdit: My first time here! All criticism, comments, and suggestions are welcome. Hell, they're encouraged :)"
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