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[WP] An audio book of your favorite novel is released. The narrator? Jar Jar Binks.
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"Isa rainy day, and AAAAAAAALL da streets be a-shuts a-down. Da boy is mooey-mooey sick, hesa stuck in bed. Hesa gots no whats to do, but that not stop what da small one wants what to do. Small one, hesa wanting to go sail boat, marp-marp! But hesa not know how, so hesa ask big brudda what do? Big brudda send-a small boy down to dark and terrible! Brrrrrrrr hesa not like what be down there! Big monster, hot and scary down in where he gots to go! But da boat must be done, so down da little brudda go. Hesa need da wax for boat to go marp-marp! So big brudda, he make boat strong like Masta Kenobi so boat go long way and not to sink. Smalls one, he go into da rain, time for boat to go! Aaaaaaall down and down it go, but too down it go and boat falls-a down to da drain. Hesa gonna go, but da boat come back, yippee! And da boat has balloons, and balloons and boat go floatsiwiff. Da one who getsa boat, he say, \"Hiya, Georgie!\""
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[WP] You live in a world where siblings can only die in the order they were born.
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"If you were born first, you died first. Simple as that. Being the eldest always meant that you drew the short end of the straw. The young ones got to live in the fast lane; they were the rebels, the daredevils, the troublemakers. When they've got complete immunity, the sky's the limit, and the trouble is suddenly a lot more serious. What they never seemed to learn was that what goes around, comes around. Eventually.\n \n \n\nMike Garcia. Age: 45. Oil tycoon. Billionaire. Known for embezzlement, fraud, the works. Typical of the young ones. The younger of two brothers, and my newest target. My former target was the elder brother, Ryan Garcia. He was an honest enough fellow. Volunteered often, and donated clothes to the Salvation Army. From what I knew of him, I liked him. But it couldn't be helped. You didn't last long in my line of work if you had a shred of doubt, and you grew to know your boundaries very well. Ryan's donations were at most worth 100 dollars per month. Mike had squeezed his workers for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Assuming each article of clothing Ryan donated \"saved\" the life of one child, Mike's exploitation of employees in poor countries sunk thousands of families deeper into poverty and starvation. I tightened my grip on my gun, glancing over the city skyline. Even generously estimating Ryan's contribution to be \"+400\" children per year would still fall short of the \"-5465\" employees that were paid below living wages in Mike's oil rigs. A net negative value. I leaned forward, closing one eye. A shame about Ryan, but it couldn't be helped. I had to focus on my current target.\n\n \n\nA figure shifted in my scope. The sun was beginning to set, and lights in the office building began to flicker out as workers went home for the day. I ran some additional figures in my head. Just to make sure, I ran them again. I was still justified. The figure stretched, yawned, and began walking towards the door. Always a late worker. My finger tightened on the trigger. The door opened. A flash of light, and a rush of shadow. \n\n \n\nThe figure was still standing, although he appeared to have been knocked off balance. In fact, two figures were now visible through the window. I squinted through the scope. Mike was still alive and well, if seemingly disoriented. Standing beside him was a feminine figure, rubbing a bleeding shoulder that was rapidly repairing itself. Shit. I hadn't expected his bodyguards to pull overtime. I took my eye from the scope, leaned back, and pulled out my briefcase. I thumbed through my file on Mike and his bodyguards. Wasn't Don supposed to be on duty today? I had definitely... dealt with him, in a manner of speaking. I turned the pages past Don's file, to the next bodyguard, a Kathy Jecmen. One older brother, Steve Jecmen, a pediatrician. I sighed. The rich always could afford the best bodyguards. I tried to avoid unnecessary casualties, but it looked like I wouldn't be able to get around this one. I absentmindedly felt for the calculator I kept in my breast pocket. My fingers began moving across the keys as sirens began to wail in the distance. Assuming each child Steve treated was a life \"saved\"..."
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Could it be the stern warrior Washington? The crazed genius Franklin? Perhaps the enigmatic wild card Richard Dobbs Spaight?
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[WP] Due to a terrible lab accident, the clones of the United States's founding fathers are running amok across the nation. You are a member of the F.F.E.F. - the Founding Fathers Extermination Force - and today you're hunting the most dangerous cloned man in America.
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"\"Alright everyone, listen up!\"\n\nThe squad snapped to attention. \n\n\"We hit the drop zone in ten minutes. I'm not going to lie; this is going to be an ugly one.\"\n\nBenny raised his hand. \"What've we got, sarge?\"\n\nSarge pursed his lips. \"An entire nest of Franklins.\"\n\nCheryl let out a low whistle. \"How many?\"\n\nSarge shrugged. \"The eggheads haven't figured that out yet. We're expecting no more than a dozen, but here's the kicker - they've taken over a Home Depot.\"\n\nI swore, and Sarge fixed me with a glare. \"And what was that, Richards?\"\n\n\"Sir! We don't have the kind of ordinance we need for this, sir!\"\n\nHis eyes narrowed. \"We have all the ordinance we're going to get, Private. We've handled worse than this -\"\n\n\"Kite!\" The cry caught us off guard, but it was still enough of a warning for us to grab onto handholds. \n\nThe electrified kite hit the transport, and we started to loose altitude. \"Bail out!\" sarge shouted.\n\nIt wasn't a nice, organized drop like we were supposed to have. A frantic ejection from the transport - we almost didn't make it out in time. \n\nOnce we were out of the plane, we were hardly out of trouble. Dozens of kites zipped around the sky, carrying electrics, explosives, or God only knew what else. We pulled out cutters - specially designed guns that fired large buzzsaws, perfect for anti-kite work.\n\nIt was close a couple times, but most of us hit the ground fine. No one saw Cheryl land. \n\n\"This whole thing is FUBAR, Sarge!\" I shouted. The storm began to rage stronger. \"We're walking into a deathtrap!\"\n\nSarge grabbed my shirt and pulled me face to face with him. \"Richards! Get ahold of yourself! Think of what they'll do to this town if we *don't* stop them.\"\n\nI swallowed. He was right. Benjamin Franklin was a major figure in the early study of demography, noting how the population began to grow. Which meant that Franklins were obsessed with population reduction. \n\nKansas City stood as a smoking reminder of what happened when a Franklin infestation was allowed to fester. \n\n\"Sir. Yes sir.\" The odds weren't any better, but at least I remembered why we were here.\n\n\"Good, now-\" Sarge was blown back.\n\nI whirled my head. A Franklin stood there, holding some kind of cannon that had been stuffed with nails. \"Seems you failed to prepare,\" he said, that sick grin spreading across his face. \"Which means you prepared to fa-\"\n\nI opened fire as soon as I regained my senses. It was the biggest weaknesses of Founders - they often got hung up on quoting themselves. Franklins were the worst for it.\n\n\"Benny!\" I shouted. No response. I tried his nickname. \"Specs!\" He popped up from behind a palate he had ducked behind for cover. \n\n\"Sarge is down, Benny! We gotta push in.\"\n\nHe nodded, and we ducked into the store. \n\nIt was a bloody few minutes. Dealing with the death trap they had set up, but Benny was always one step ahead of them. Finally, the last Franklin fell. \"Damn, Specs, you're a machine.\"\n\nHe nodded, grinning. \"Well done is better than well said. Let’s get out of here.\"\n\nAs he turned to leave, I felt my blood go cold. \"What did you say?\"\n\n\"I said- whoa, Richards, what's with the gun?\"\n\nI had it pointed directly at his head. \"I asked you what you said! Answer the damn question.\"\n\nHe held up his hands. \"I think you heard me well enough, man.\"\n\nMy mind was racing. Benny. Specs. We'd studied the faces of all the Founders, of course, so we'd know what we were up against. But no one had asked us to look at a picture of a young, fit, Benjamin Franklin. \"God, you must be laughing at us.\"\n\nHe grinned, and it was the sick grin of a Founder. \"Thanks for thinning out the competition with me, Richards. Should have pulled the trigger, though.\" He pointed down.\n\nInstead of shooting, like I should have done, I did look down. I was standing in a puddle. A puddle which a line ran into.\n\nLightning, which Benny had perfectly predicted, struck then. It hit a kite, and ran through the wire. I felt my body seize up, and Benny - Benjamin - walked over to me as I started to black out from pain.\"\n\n\"Should have pulled the trigger. If you survive this, make sure you remember: If you love live, do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of.\"\n\nThen, darkness.\n\n---\n\nMore at /r/Hydrael_Writes "
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[WP] In this post-apocalyptic world you are known as "The Collector", feverishly hoarding the possessions of the deceased for one reason or another.
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"Derek Lamar, car salesman. Jeff Sabinski, accountant. Calvin Li, unemployed but most recently a freelance writer for some tech website I’d never heard of. D’Angelo Roberts, a 16 year old child prodigy who’d just been invited to tryout for the US Olympic swimming team. Margaret Laurentis, professor at Suffolk Community College. I found her phone first. A few days had passed, and it was laying in the street. Screen cracked, soaked by the rain, but still working. Older phone, built like a brick. The last person she’d texted was her husband, Liam, who seemed apoplectic about the estimate for a bathroom remodel. She’d relaxed him, convinced him they’d find someone else, or worst case do it together. A bonding thing. He liked that. Gave her his love before leaving for a train he wouldn't catch. She said she’d be home by 7, but she wouldn't be. I had looked through the other texts, to friends, family, employers, coworkers, a stalker who’d threatened her with blackmail over her affair with a man named Bronson.\n\n\nReading her texts, listening to her voice mail, it reminded me of the past, kept me sane, in those days and weeks when I was all alone and the specter of death seemed more inviting and tantalizing than slogging through, scraping by, existing more than living. I found more phones scattered around as I searched for food and supplies, and I read their texts and listened to their voice mails and pretended I wasn't desperately, fantastically lonely. \n\n\nEventually I figured I’d find the phones of people who knew each other, and reasoned I could map out a web of connections. In my little bunker, a grey cage with a cot in one corner and a laptop running software to get me into the phones on a desk in the opposite corner. On the far wall I had hung the phones on hooks and used string to connect them. At first I had only strangers phones, sad little blocks of memory, the closest they'd likely come to each other. Then one day, while searching for water, I found Liam’s phone, in the parking lot of a train station. I looked at what was left of his life and almost sobbed. He had been a good man, a good husband. I put his phone next to hers and tied a purple and green string, their favorite colors, around the hooks to connect the two. I celebrated by hunting down a bottle of Pinot Grigio and toasting their reunion.\n\nAnders Nesbo. Foreign businessman from Norway in America to visit his cousin, Harry, who’d come here to study physics at Stony Brook. His phone was under an empty car in the driveway of a house that had more chocolate than I knew what to do with. I was carrying as much as I could when I tripped on an upturned brick. As I was dusting myself off and picking up the last pieces of my vice, I saw the phone, facedown on the brick driveway. I quickly grabbed it up and saw it had a bit of charge still, even now, six months out. A lock screen greeted me, and I guessed a couple passwords before slipping it into my pocket.\n\nMy wall was now a dense network of string and phones. I knew their stories, their relationships by heart. I knew one day I'd either be unable to charge them or batteries simply wouldn't work anymore, so I had committed each phones messages to memory, fervently keeping track of their long gone lives. I knew Keisha was good friends with Tony, or maybe something more, that Ken was an asshole to his girlfriend, who in turn was asking Darren for advice on how to leave him, that Janice had a drug problem she couldn't or wouldn't share with anyone but Andy, who wanted nothing to do with her.\n\n\nI turned on the laptop, plugged the phone in, and ran the software. While that hummed along I went through my catalogue of actors, imagining who this phone could belong to and who they knew, where they fit into this narrative I'd constructed. When the phone unlocked I learned who he was and what he did, repeating it over and over, trapping it in amber. He was loud and jovial, prone to violent outbursts, both physical and verbal, but loyal as a sheepdog to those he cared about. I liked him. Anders was a new addition, a lonely little island within this mass. I didn't want him to feel disconnected, so I hung him up on the edge of the web, but still close to Natasha and Miguel. He was part of the web but not part of the web. I hoped to find someone to connect him to soon. Maybe Harry’s phone. He’d like that. He was damned proud of the kid. Harry had come here to the States after spending a childhood bouncing around foster homes. Harry’s parents were career criminals, nicked for stealing a car to sell to a chop shop for drug money. Anders had helped him come stateside. Suddenly the phone vibrated against the wall, shaking the nearby phones. The screen lit up, weakly emitting light. I got closer to get a better look.\n\n\nHarry was calling. \n\n\nConfused, I picked the phone up and answered. Deep breathing greeted me on the other end. Then a deep, heavily accented voice rumbled through the phone.\n\n\n“Why are you listening?”\n\n\n“What? Who is this? Can you help me?”\n\n\nThe breathing stopped. Click. I looked at the phone. Call ended. I tried to call the number back, but all I got was an out of service message."
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[WP] The world is flooded and the dominant species is a race of giant, ravenous jellyfish. The dwindling human population resides in half-subgerged skyscrapers.
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"It was a tough day Jim thought. He stood on the top story of the once illustrious Empire State Building. The famous skyline of New York was tarnished by flooded dilapidated buildings and horrifyingly large pink blobs with arms of pure toxicity. It was a wasteland.\nThe scientists had been no closer to identifying its weak spots and they had lost Phillip in a scavenging accident just this morning. Supplies were hard to come by and the jellyfish seemed to be fixated on their location. \nJim called a meeting, something had to be said. \"Well\" Jim said, \"There's no point in denying it. The damn jellyfish win.\""
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[WP] You have just died. Describe what happens based on your beliefs and how you've lived your life.
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"I will die, as I lived.\n\nTo begin, I will take a super *long* time to *choose* to die (instead of fighting on, though at most for only a few milliseconds), because that is how I do absolutely everything: I take a realllly long time to choose.\n\nJust like getting to the answer for your question, which was (if I am not mistaken) \"what do you think will happen to you after you die?\"\n\nIt is really my belief that I will begin to die that way, but anyway I'll just die like any ordinary human being would - from my brain not getting enough oxygen. \n\nBut what I was saying before was, I know I'll die with my worthless mind pivoting faster and faster, back and forth between the black and white of the situation, as it has been doing for always for chrisake, having arguments with itself that don't fucking *matter*...\n\nContinuing on, my next belief is that after I die the thing that I call \"I\" will go on to start a new life on a higher plane, but, truly sadly, the thing that I call \"Me\" will no longer be alive. People confuse the two a lot; an easy way to remember the difference is to think of \"Me\" standing for \"Meat.\"\n\nThat's what me is - a solid amalgam of chemicals that could, in practice, be cooked and eaten (or even eaten raw depending, on your personal preference).\n\nMy \"I\" will move on to the next plane, and to a new life, which will obviously have many more adventures in it (because that's all that this life is: it's a training platform for the lives we're gonna live on the next plane). Why do you think I practice all those random things in such dedicated manner?\n\nJust like any good life, my next one is going to have lots to do with randomness. Many elements are going to be left up to chance, since the fact that those magic-physics things seem to oscillate but don't actually oscillate makes everything unpredictable in super crazy ways.\n\nListen to me, and some others, and please please *please*- learn all you can. Because after you die your \"I\" is probably going to have to do some *wild* and *amazing* shit, and you need to be ready... for real."
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[WP] Humans can have super powers, however these powers are not everlasting and can be used up. This has lead to power-use addicts, and means that 'heroes' and 'villains' are temporary at best.
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"I sat my creaking bones into the soft chair. After seventy years you'd think my family would remember that I prefer chocolate over vanilla, but they say chocolates bad for me. Pfft. \n\nOh well. It's nice to have the family together, even if it is just for little old me. I looked around, mentally counting heads. Ever since Matilda died, I always made sure everyone was with us. Always. \n\nThere was my son, his wife, my daughter and her wife, and my four grandchildren. Juan, Sheri, Victoria, and....Matilda. I teared up the first time I heard her name. She was such a tiny thing, always trying for something over her head. \n\nNow she's an eighteen year old with bags under her eyes darker than mine ever were. She's working to become a surgeon, a female surgeon. I told her parents that instinct would hurt her. Maybe she'll pull through. I sure hope so. \n\nMy son, David, he lit the candles with his pointer finger. I frowned at him. Fire was always so popular with the younger kids. The ones that spend their power whenever they can, whenever they can, on job interviews, stupid dares, to impress a girl; anything. David never lost that inclination of waste. None of my kids did. My grandkids, I hoped their parents would teach them to be sparing, but I'm not seeing any difference. I try to tell them to be careful but...they don't see me much. \n\nMe? I figured out real quick that this stuff shouldn't be messed with. I found my away around the cliffs my friends jumped over, figured out how to use lighters properly, learnt how to breathe fire and sword swallow without powers. I knew a few kids who did things...things they shouldn't have to refresh that little tank inside em. I saw those kids grow up into the Change, I saw them take over America and Canada, spreading down to Mexico and Russia before they were stopped. So many lives wasted. \n\nMost of my friends were Taken, coming back shaken and drained, pale as ghosts. And without fail the next day I'd watch some Change officer flaunting some powers much more potent than the day before. They'd spend it all, and a few weeks or months later, some other kid was snatched off the streets if he seemed to have a sparkle in his eye. \n\nI kept my head down, and since I'd never used my powers, convinced everyone I had none. It was rare, but it did exist. My friends faded away. I survived. I had watched the Change grow up, and I watched it fall. \n\nBut I never did use my powers. Not a habit you really shake, after thirty years of it. \n\nI was preparing to blow out the candles, when something crashed downstairs. I frowned, then heard pounding footsteps up the stairs. My chest went cold, that sound all too familiar. \n\nSome twenty year old kid burst into the room, shabby clothes and a shabby mask covering him. His shaking hand held a gun, and he pointed it at us. \n\n\"G-gimme every-everything.\" he said, other hand held in some kinda twisted gesture. \n\nDavid stepped forward, always the hero. The kid twitched his hand, and an inferno erupted from his palm, forcing David back, coughing.\n\n\"I *SAID*\" the kid yelled. \"Give me what you've got!\" \n\nI stood up. \n\n\"Dad...\" David warned. \n\nI ignored him. I stepped forward, only a few inches from the flames. The kid snapped the gun toward me. \n\n\"D-don't come any closer.\" he said. \n\n\"You're using up your tank pretty quick.\" I said, using the same voice I'd use if David or Kate were acting out of line. \n\n\"How many times have you done this? How long do you think you can keep that up?\"\n\nHe clicked the safety off on the gun. I chucked to myself. Amateur. \n\n\"Boy.\" I said, leaning on my cane. \"You can turn around and leave this house, or you can go to jail for quite some time.\" \n\n\"Q-quit talking old man.\" he seethed. \n\nI raised an eyebrow. \"I'm seventy years old.\" I responded. \"What more could you do to me?\" \n\nHe fired. \n\nAnd white light exploded from my cane. \n\nA lifetime of cooped-up power flooded through me, dancing and spinning in white intensity, expanding and burning with need. I reigned it in, letting it straighten my back, re-jigger my eyes, smooth my skin and suck away one too many birthday cakes. Kept the white hair though. Grew partial to it after all these years. \n\nI let tendrils of energy snake through the air. Most kept that kid in line, but I sent a few over to cut the cake, put out the candles, give Juan that hairstyle he's been wanting, and get those bags out from under Matilda's eyes. Gave her the suggestion to see how she likes herself without em, too. \n\nI stepped toward the kid, who was suspended in the air by white energy. It was easy to snuff out his powers. Nobody ever really figured out that they get more powerful the longer you wait, because everyone wanted to be a superhero. Before the Change everyone spent them to be \"cool\" during it everyone hid them, after it nobody had any left from fighting the buggers, and now that the ones that remember have started dying off, people are right back the spending them. \n\nI looked down at hands that were as muscled as a Olympians. I coulda killed the kid without powers. Instead I used the tendrils to pin him to the wall. \n\nI used another to pick up the phone and dial 911. \n\n\"Now then.\" I said, moving back to my chair. My kids and grandkids stared like I was a stranger. I suppose I was. \n\nI had a plate floated to him, with a big slice of vanilla on it. \n\n\"Want some cake?\"\n",
"The Crushinator was the best. A fourth generation hero, son of the son of the grandson of the original, still in the same bright blue and orange jumpsuit with the vice stenciled on the chest. No man had ever died wearing that suit, he was one of the few generational heroes that could make that claim. It was a point of pride to follow in your parents footsteps once mutants started to develop, to prove to the world that we could benefit society just as much as unpowered humans.\n\nThe Original Crushinator was the first generation, an original member of the Extreme Team and founder of Extreme Force, the west coast expansion. His son was powerless but worked as the team's PR man until his death in '93. Lung cancer. He was the last man to ever smoke a cigarette in thw White House. \"If the son of the Crushinator can fall to cigarettes,\" President Bush. \"anyone can, and this administration will not allow that!\"\n\nI was a first generation hero, my parents refused to risk themselves for what they saw as empty glory. My mother could control weather over a small area and ran community gardens across the city, dad can write with his eyes and works as a stenographer for the Supreme Court. My older sister was powerless and got a lucky break into t.v., but me? My muscles can fire nine times faster, and are six times stronger per ounce, than a chimpanzee's. My neuron's are entirely grey matter, I think about moving and I've already done it, my reflexes can beat a supercomputer. I was born to be a hero.\n\nMy first day was horrific. My costume, fresh sewed and form-fitting, wasn't up to a super powered fist fight. I'm just lucky that Grinder's powers finally disappeared, there had never been a fifty year mutation before and hopefully there won't be again unless he's a good guy, or else my junk would have made national news: \"Flashy New Hero Flashes His Way To Failure!\" The press were nice enough to only use my bust for that edition, and within the week I was invited to join The Extreme Force. I was shocked, but as they quickly explained, no single hero had ever held the Grinder to a standstill for so long before.\n\nTime flew by as the Force trained me to react faster and fight better, and my first time assignements were a breaze. My first solo op against a powertripping teen in Arizona was barely a test; \"the Übermensch\" was an overweight, balding 16 year old who developed superstrength overnight and decided to take revenge on those who'd bullied him. Unfortunately for him 100x normal strength without increased bone density is a losing combination, I never even touched him before he was out of the fight.\n\nAs my first year as a hero progressed I learned that such power addiction was surprisingly common. New mutations would develop and their owners, unused to the power or responsibility, would go on a spree of overuse and societal endangerment. The luckiest would get away with it and burnout in a few months, draining themselves before they even finished developing. The unluckiest would injure or kill themselves, or worse, someone else. Most of our duties these days consisted of finding and stopping addicts like these, helping developing mutants learn to control their powers, and only rarely fighting supervillains.\n\nToday was supposed to be the best day of my life. Requiem, the brunette goddess of aural manipulation, conqueror of Virii (the infamous mutant who could infect anyone he touched with a year long bout of the flu or mononucleosis), defeater of the League of Unappreciated Super-Hero Trainees (LUST for short), and designer of the world's first *working* sound proof headphones (which soon became standard gear for both Extreme groups), had agreed to meet me that night *out of uniform* at one of the beast Italian restaurants in the world. So of course, my day got busy.\n\nI was rushing back from a highschool football game where a cheerleader had lost control of her growth mutation when an all-points call came in. The Crushinator was on scene and requesting backup for a villain that was identical to, and called himself, Grinder. Worse, grinder had brought backup, Bobcat *and* E Equals had been identifies, as well as three unknown villains. As heroes across the coast began to call in their commitment to help, a tiny piece of me hesistated, what about dinner? but I knew that if Requiem were on shift she would never hesitate to help, and thumbed my mike: \"Primal is on the way, two minutes out.\" With one quick glance toward home I accelerated to too speed and hit the first left, racing across the tops of cars toward the biggest fight of my life.\n\nThe first few minutes were too hectic to explain. I hit the block at beyond top speed, a full sprint, like Usain does at the Olympics, and threw a haymaker at the first face I saw. Crushinator was to my left, tangling with Bobcat and Grinder. My punch took all my momentum and left me standing where E Equals had just been, and the three unknowns jumped at me and the fight became a blur. Between the three of them, my speed , and the interplay of the two brawls, I can't say anything about what happened except that the Crushinator and I ended up backs against a brownstone, bloody and bruised. Two of the villains were down and focusing on their extraction, Bobcat and an unknown they called Blazer, who liked trying to blind me. Grinder was looking haggard and ready to quit, and just as Crushinator and I crouched to attack, E Equals made his new entrance.\n\nHis face, once pristine and chiseled, was bent, left cheek pressed into his nose and eye swollen shut. Beyond a slight nosebleed he appeared unharmed, his costume looked fresh from the iron. \"You im*petuous* IMBECILE!\"\n\nSomething fluckered in the corner if my eye and I swiveled, but whatever it was had gone. Crushinator seemed smaller than he had a moment ago. \"I MEAN *REALLY*!\" E Equals had his hands spread like a mother about to discipline he child \"DO YOU *EVEN KNOW WHO I AM?!!?!*\"\n\nThe flicker resolved itself int E.E. as he rushed faster than I could think and slammed Crushinator into the bank across the street. \"I\" they were besideme again, Crushinator pinned against the brick \"AM\" across the street, dragging his face through the broken ground \"E EQUALS!!!!\" Beside me, Crushinators head through the wall. My mind raced, trying to remember whenE Equals became a super speedster.\n\nBut he wasn't. E Equals, takes his name from E=MC^2 . Absorbs kinetic energy and naturally squares it. Restrain but avoid conflict. The Crushinator pulled himself out of the wall and gave a chuckle \"You just haad to slam 'im.\" Cracked knuckles and a shaken head were all the proof he had been attacked, we could win this, I was fighting alongside *The Crushinator.*\n\nBut he seemed even smaller somehow. Grinder laughed, like he'd just heard the best joke in the world. A quick combo shut him up and he made the wise choice to stay down. E Equals rushed toward me but stopped before we collided and collapsed, humming softly. The sound of feet to my left heralded the arrival of the goddess herself, Requiem had subdued him with a concentrated melody. The Crushinator was having a harder time of it. His strength, normally astounding, was failing to fell the two seemingly unpowered villains. A blow to the back of the neck and he went stumbling.\n\nI rushed to his aid, leaving Requiem to guard the downed Grinder, and easily delt with the first of them when a muffked shout drew my attention. Requiem was bound and gagged, and Grinder held The Crushinator by the back of his suit.\n\n\"Remember me kid?\" He smiled. \"I remember you. Seems to me, you've never seen someone lose their powers before.\" The smile turned into a face-splitting smirk. \"I been using that trick since before Crushy here put on his uniform, and nobody ever fell for until you.\" My stomached churned at his every word, had I really been the first? The only hero stupid enough to think he'd lost his powers, like happens to others every single day?\n\n\"Don't let it get to you, most of the time it don't look like nothin. But for us,\" he waived at the Crushinator and himself, \"the big leaguers, it's a little more evident.\" He threw the Crushinator to the ground between us, and there he lay. \"Goliath, show him what happens to overworked supers.\"\n\nI turned slowly. The other unknown, *Goliath*, had become larger than the brownstone, as tall as the nearby skyscrapers. A single massive foot rested before me, and the other...\n\nI would like to tell you that there is no sound like a human being crushed to death. I would like to tell you that you can't take a piece of balsa wood and stick into jello, place it under a plank and drive over it in your car with a microphone pointed at it and listen to it every night as you fall asleep. I would like to tell you that.\n\nI would like to tell you that I stopped them. I would like to tell you that I held up Goliath's foot and unbalanced him, knocked out Grinder and rescued Requiem and thst they never escaped and continued their crime spree, that Requiem and I had a perfect dinner and fell in love and eventually married and had lots of children and no one ever hurt her again. I would like to tell you that I always know where she is and that she is safe and could never be taken away and hidden from me no matter how I searched or what supers I employed. I would like to tell you that.\n\nI would like to tell you that no one has ever died within The Crushinator's suit and that I write from a home of comfort and joy, that I have never seen the inside of an asylum nor lost my powers. I would like to tell you that the world is good and justice prevails and evil will never, ever prosper and that I never required drugs in order to stop myself from going mad and killing my way out to search for Requiem. I would like to tell you that."
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[WP] You've just been arrested, and lacking other methods of defense, are speaking with your court-appointed lawyer in the police station. You quickly realize that something is very, very wrong.
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"The Sanctuary for the Criminally Enabled is quite the prison I have to say. It's well maintained has painted cement blocks for walls, clean linoleum floors, and perfectly polished steel tables. It was to many on the outside as the perfect prison for those who commit a crime of the highest order, and here I was in an interrogation room waiting for my court appointed lawyer to show up so I can find a way to get moved to a less accommodating prison. After twiddling my thumbs for a bit I hear the door open and in comes a prison guard with a well dressed gentleman with some seller sun glasses and that hitler youth hair cut the kids are rocking now a days. My first indication that something was wrong came to me by the fact that the lawyers feet weren't touching the ground, and he was being carried by the guard. The second was the fact that he didn't say anything for 3 days after coming in. I got up from my chair and knocked on the metal door to get the attention of the guard outside. \n\n\"what is it?\" asked the guard.\n\n\"Is my lawyer dead?\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\n\"Is he dead, you know like living but without all the effort.\"\n\n\"yes\"\n\n\"yes?\"\n\n\"yes, he is dead\" \n\n\"ok cool, next question why is he dead?\"\n\n\"massive heart attack from overdose\"\n\n\"overdose?\"\n\n\"of fentanyl, yes\"\n\n\"so you gave me a lawyer who was a heroine addict\"\n\n\"no a fentanyl addict weren't you paying attention?\"\n\n\"I feel like dying on your first taste doesn't count as being an addict.\"\n\n\"maybe, any more questions?\"\n\n\"yeah can I have a lawyer who's alive?\" \n\n\"no\"\n\n\"no?\"\n\n\"no\"\n\n\"why not?\"\n\n\"We are currently experiencing a low amount of people who pass the bar exam so we have to use dead lawyers now.\"\n\n\"how low are we talking here?\"\n\n\"We have yet to have someone show up for the last seven times we set a test date\"\n\n\"ah well that's to bad, so what am I supposed to do?\"\n\n\"About your case or the lawyer?\"\n\n\"lawyer\"\n\n\"Have you seen Weekend at Bernie's?\" \n\n\"yeah\"\n\n\"try that\"\n\n \n "
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[WP] You wake up sprawled out on the road, your crashed car nearby. You are fine but you quickly notice that all the cars on th street are empty and there isn't a single person walking on the sidewalk.
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"The wind rustles the trees above my head, sending leaves scattering and letting the shadows dance in the splendor of the fading sunlight. It's fall. It's always been fall. There's always leaves falling, but it's been Autumn for the last two hundred days. There's always leaves on the trees too, no matter how many pile about and blow around on the ground.\n\nThe world is quiet and empty, a monument to the solitude that I now have.\nTwo hundred (and soon-to-be one), I woke up in the middle of the road, blood dripping down my forehead from the collision. I had been thrown clear. There was no one in the other car. There was no one that came out of the houses to examine the cause of the noise. The world was simply quiet and empty. I was alone.\n\nThere's no birds here either. No dogs or cats in the houses. There's no deer to hunt or fish to catch. There's bugs. I've seen bumblebees, ants feeding on overturned meals where their owners vanished. I've seen beetles and spiders and everything else, but there are no mammals left.\n\nIt's just me now. I've got my walking stick and my knife and my hatchet and that's how I live. Sometimes I sleep under the hedge or under the ledge, sometimes in beds or empty car seats. \n\nI'm getting lonely if I'm honest.\n\nWell, yesterday I found a solar panel and was able to charge my phone. It's quite nice to have music to listen to in this lonely world.\n\nI check my fingers against the fading sunlight. I've got maybe fifteen minutes of good pure light left. Time to find a place to camp out. \n\n------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI'm pretty far out in the woods, so I find myself a clearing and build a fire. I set up my tent and lay out my sleeping back and enjoy the taste of a wild apple I plucked a while back. The snapping of the fire provides good sound against the buzzing of bugs and croaking of frogs.\n\nBut then there is another sound- a sound I have not heard in two hundred and one days. I'm getting a phone call.\n\nThe light from the phone screen illuminates my dirty hands and my confused expression. *Unknown Number*\n\nI slide the answer button and lift the device to my ear.\n\n\"Hello?\" I whisper with a hesitant voice.\n\nThere is a silence on the other side, before a lone voice. \"Are you real?\" Someone asks. Female.\n\n\"I am.\" I whisper in response.\n\n\"Oh my gosh.\" The other voice whispers. \"I've been dialing random numbers for weeks now.\"\n\n\"Is there nobody there too?\" I ask. \n\n\"Nobody except me. Come find me.\" The voice whispers and the call ends. A moment later a text arrives with an address in a city halfway across the continent.\n\nI stare at the phone screen for a moment, before calling the number back. I need to hear another voice again. Even if it's just for a moment...\n\n\n"
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Your friend experienced a horrible tragedy, so you and your friends told him to "call when he needs them". It's been a year since then, and said friend is still invoking you all. You've had enough.
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[WP] When you say "call when you need me", you allow the person to invoke your name when they need help, and you appear instantly at their side.
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"I'm going to ignore the part in the description because I'm a comedy writer.\n\n---\n\nIt always feels like a faint buzzing in the back of your head, the sensation of being summoned. It serves as a warning that you're about to leave your body and appear elsewhere as a form of physical specter.\n\n'Damn it,' he groaned as he was stirred from his rest. His wife placed her arms around him, gently embracing his chest.\n\n'Who summons you at this hour?' she asked.\n\n'That mortal who aided me the year previous,' he said before turning back to her, his one eye lovingly looking down at her.\n\n'If you don't awake by dawn, I'll tell everyone you're busy,' Frigg declared for him before yawning. 'Don't spend too long in Midgard.'\n\nHe closed his eyes as his soul was brought elsewhere. Even though he lay naked in his home he appeared with a full cloak, tunic, leg garments and boots, his spear ready in case it was needed. 'Yes, what is it Mikael?' he asked as he appeared in the room of his summoner.\n\nThe one who called him was slumped on his bed, completely naked and in a complete state. Odin could only sigh as he saw the bottle of absinthe spilled onto the floor. 'Maria thought I was sleeping around,' he grumbled.\n\n'Were you?' Odin asked.\n\n'I was talking to prostitutes but it was entirely for work,' he explained. 'Talking about how a politician wanting to go stricter on persecuting them may have been hiring them. And it's not like she didn't know I was doing this, she's my editor's asssistant!'\n\n'And Maria...?' Odin asked.\n\n'...Broke my pelvis with a hammer,' Mikael stated. 'Can you at least get me to a hospital?'\n\nOdin sighed before he waved his spear over the mortal's body. Mikael screamed as the bones reformed and his skin was healed, the bruising of damaged blood vessels disappearing all within 10 seconds.\n\n'You can't be with someone who will harm you with a hammer,' Odin said as he sat on the bed, helping Mikael sit up. 'Why do you still yearn for the scent of her bosom when you know it's poisonous?'\n\n'...I guess love makes us do stupid things,' Mikael said. 'Have you ever done anything foolish for your wife?'\n\n'There are entire *sagas* of my sons' foolishness for women,' Odin said. 'And to be honest, Frigg would stop me before anything happens. It's the reason Ragnarok hasn't occurred.'\n\n'Thanks, Odin,' Mikael said as he began to dispel his summoning.\n\n'I'll be watching you,' Odin said as he began to fade. 'If you get back into bed with her I'll set the Wild Hunt on you.'\n\nHe found himself back in bed, scratching his beard before gently grasping his beautiful wife. 'Mikael having relationship troubles again?' she asked.\n\n'We *have* to set him up with a Valkyrie,' Odin sighed. 'Maria broke his *pelvis* over a preceived slight!'",
"The world rematerialized on the cusp of a red sand summit. The first thing that slipped was the bowl of steaming oats in my palm, then the tie halfway around my neck, and lastly my bowels. The air brought goosebumps to the back of my thighs which were about to be covered in oat excrement. \n\n\"Ain't it a beaut,\" a voice said. I quickly recognized the awe inspired tone as Paul, a good friend of mine. He'd been in a bad spot a year back and my offer of 'call when you need me' went straight to his head and formed its own little list. Since then, I've seen Egpyt, Europe, a little bit of the middle east, and as of this moment the Grand Canyon. \n\n\"Ten minutes late for work, Paul. Ten damn minutes.\"\n\nHe was sitting in the center of what looked to be an isolated peak. Paul was dressed in mountaineering gear, cables pinning him to the surface. An Up and Go kept him fueled as he enjoyed the view, and as we made eye contact he tipped his helmet. \n\n\"What's a day job when you can enjoy the world,\" Paul said. He caught sight of my temple throb shortly after. \"Oh come on, you're still *getting a promotion*.\"\n\nWhat I was getting was none of his business. Trust a once upon a time misery to become the greatest nosey parker in history. \"Send me back, Paul. Some things matter, like people and not being a lonely lunatic.\"\n\nThe wind caught his black fringe, swaying it back and forth Bieber style. \"Stick around, work can catch a break.\"\n\nDon't kick him off the ledge, you need him alive, was the only thing running through my mind. \"Goodbye, Paul.\"\n\n\"Makes you realise that we're not all that important. Your suit and tie, friends and titles don't matter out here. This is reality, Davie.\"\n\nBringing me out for the view was one thing, but patronizing me was another. I took a step forward. \"If pushing you over the edge will put a stop to this madness, I'm two steps from taking that leap.\"\n\n\"Madness?\" Paul grinned. \"I'm looking it in the face. Turn around and tell me she ain't a beaut. You're part of something greater, never alone.\"\n\nA look couldn't hurt, specially if it was going to get me out. I turned. The light blue sky came first, picture perfect with clouds like the froth on coffee. Towering figures with gaping holes between made up the view in front, and in the deep distance I caught a river so small it looked like a line in the sand. For the first time in a long time, something took my breath away. \n\n\"Nice seeing ya, Davie.\"\n\nI didn't want to go. \"Wai-\"\n\nThat was all I got out before I slammed back onto the wooden floor of my apartment, bowl of oats spilled over the floor, shirt and pants still waiting to be ironed, and the honks of commuters in the distance. \n\n\"Wait . . .\" I said again, but there was no one there to hear it. \n\n\n\n"
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Just want a story that ends happy
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[WP] Write about someones transition from depression to happiness.
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"I always found comfort in the darkness. In the dark, anything could come at you and harm you. Take you away, torture you, bruise, brutalize, destroy, dehumanize. You could be gone in an instant and no one would ever know. Sometimes I'd turn off the lights, and close my eyes, hoping that one day I would just not wake up and die. But after a couple of days of doing that, I realized it wasn't going to just happen. That I needed to take action. Take pills. Hang a rope. Shoot a run. Run into the street. Jump off a building. Stab myself. Drown. Pick your poison.\n\nI always fought the urge to do any one of those things. Pills are easily accessible in the cupboard of my bathroom. There's a pool in the backyard. I live on the second story and I could jump out my window. I always felt the internal struggle of doing it and not doing it. Of all the things I have never completed, could ending my life be on the checklist of things I finally have? Can I finally fucking accomplish something in my life?\n\nThe answer to that question is yes. I did accomplish something. I accomplished recovery. I told everyone I cared about how I was feeling, and I reached out. It felt foolish at first, saying, \"Hey, I have a problem. I'm suicidal. Can you help me?\" but the love you get is something you can't replace. I realized that people care about me, and that maybe I should give a damn about them. How will my death affect those around me? It was a tough bit to swallow, but something that helped me remember why I live.\n\nAm I happy? Yeah I am. I have friends. I have family. I have a reason to live, but there are times where that happiness fades. Where there's an emptiness in the pit of my heart that sows its seed and grows bigger by the moment with doubt. Emptiness. You can argue that depression is worse, but I already conquered that demon. Emptiness is the current struggle that I face on my quest for happiness.",
"Trevor woke up to his alarm but left it as he stared directly at the ceiling. \n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP\n\nHe knew that he had to will the energy to rise up, but for a long while, he just lay there wondering if today was the day that he just...stopped...just gave up. \n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP\n\n~ Ugh, ~ he thought, ~ let's do it... ~ He got up, pressed the off button for the alarm and slowly shuffled to the bathroom to begin his daily routine. It was the part of the day he hated the most, because he had to look at the mirror to make sure he was at least presentable for work. Turning on the light, he grimaced when he saw the creature staring back at him with crusted baggy eyes, bed hair, and a drool stain on his pajama shirt. \n\n~ Face. ~ He splashed cold water on his face hoping, as he did every day, that it would shock energy into him. Like every other day, it didn't. Willing his arms into motion, he washed his face.\n~ Teeth. ~ The toothbrush moved around his mouth, pushing against his gums almost painfully. He got this brush on purpose, so that he could feel it happening. It hurt, but that told him he was still alive.\n~ Clothes. ~ He found his work clothes in the wardrobe, clean and pressed. If they weren't he would be berated again. Not that he minded. He deserved the punishment for being so worthless. But dealing with the aftermath took more energy than just getting the clothes ready in the first place, so he took the lesser of two evils. \n~ Hair. ~ He hated product, so he had cut his hair relatively short, but it at least needed a comb. \n~ There, ~ he thought, ~ still pathetic, but at least you pass for human. ~\n\nHe proceeded to the kitchen, clicking the kettle on, and looked in the fridge. With nothing much in there he looked at the instant coffee on the counter. \"Artificial smiles for breakfast, it is again...\" he mused, to the empty room. \n\nHe left for the train to the city, where he worked and watched all the people walking past, smiling at each other. Old people watching animals in the park, children playing together and getting in line at the bus stop for school, couples jogging together, nodding at him as they ran past. He always managed a smile that he imagined must look terrible but each time they seemed satisfied and continued on. At the train station, he yawned and steadied himself against the pole closest to the door he always enters the train through. Everything was routine, every day. The train arrived and he got on seeing all the same people, every day. Grey suits, grey bags, black suits, black briefcases, yawns, sweat and aftershave.\n\n~ Wait... ~ came the thought, unbidden, ~ She's new. ~ \n\nA young woman, he guessed around his age, was looking right at him as he got on. She smiled at him, and he gave her his forced smile back. That seemed to be what she wanted, as she looked back down at her book and continued reading. Trevor pulled out his phone and browsed reddit to keep his mind off of his own thoughts for the commute. His day was much the same as it always was and he went through the motions, clocking in, drone-ing, buying lunch, drone-ing, clocking out and went home.\n\n~ Clothes. ~ He got changed into his normal sweatpants and t-shirt. He really should clean them, but...\n~ Food. ~ He went to the kitchen and pulled a microwave pizza out of the freezer. As it heated, he went to the living room.\n~ Thoughts. ~ He hated being left to his own thoughts, as he knew that they always went dark very quickly. Before they had a chance, he turned on his playstation and brought up netflix. \nDING\nHe retrieved his pizza and sat down to a couple of episodes of Luke Cage. \n~ Shower. ~ He got undressed and cleaned himself as much as his exhaustion would allow, avoiding looking at the mirror as much as possible. Why did he even have a glass shower?\n~ Pajamas. ~ He picked up the striped atrocities and slid them on. The stain from that morning, obvious as he walked to his bedroom.\n~ Sleep. ~ The one thing he didn't have trouble with in his day. All he had to do was relent to the lack of energy and he was out almost immediately.\n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP\nStaring. Button. \n~ Face. ~ \n~ Teeth. ~\n~ Clothes. ~\n~ Hair. ~ Meh... At least he didn't violate the dress code.\nCoffee. Fake smiles. Train. ~ Huh, ~ he thought, ~ there she is again. ~ The young woman was smiling at him again. This time he noticed her eyes because the smile was in them too. They were a light brown, almond shaped, with little flecks of gold in them. Wow, when was the last time he noticed that much detail in something? He smiled back and she went back to her book.\nPhone, reddit. Clock in. Drone. Lunch. Drone. Clock out. Home. Clothes. Food. Netflix. Shower. Pajamas. Bed.\n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP\n\nRoutine. Coffee. Fake smiles. Train. There she was again. ~ Her hair looks nice today, ~ he thought, ~ What? Dude, you don't even know her. ~ He was so pathetic that he was thinking romantic thoughts about a girl who just smiles at him on the train. He gave her his daily smile and she went back to her book.\nPhone. Work. Home. Routine. Bed.\n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP\n\nRoutine. Fake smiles. Train. Why did she smile at him every day? He smiled back, not disingenuously this time. When she went back to her book this time, he studied her. She seemed like she was Asian, the flag on the backpack sitting on her lap suggested she was Japanese. She had light brown hair that matched her eyes, it was long and fell over her shoulders with her head bowed into the book, her fringe pinned back. She wore a puffy blue vest with a hand-made peace symbol pinned to the front of it over a tight grey long sleeved t-shirt. The most striking was her rainbow leggings, horizontal rings of colour alternating down her legs. The corner of his mouth curled upwards. She was adorable. And she was looking at him! She blushed and grinned, shifting her eyes back down to her book. His cheeks shone bright red as his eyes went wide and he turned away. What was he thinking? What was he doing? He was almost thirty, not some stupid high school kid. He pulled out his phone and went back to his melancholy, the feelings of embarrassment quickly fading as his regular mood returned, thinking about the day ahead.\nWork. Home. Bed.\n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP\n\nRoutine. Train. There she is! The doors opened on the train and she was in the same place as every day, this time when she smiled, she gave a little wave as well. Trevor's cheeks burned as he smiled and waved back. ~ Should I...? ~ He didn't get to finish his thought as 30 people piled in around him and pushed him away from his usual standing spot. There goes that idea. He did his best to pull out his phone in the throng of people and occupy his mind as usual.\nWork. Home. Bed... the darkness weighed on him. What was it? What was that feeling? He reminded himself he wasn't some teenager pining after a crush. He can't be. After all, he hadn't felt much of anything for a long time, let alone feelings like that. His mind wandered among those thoughts as the day caught up with him and he drifted off.\n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP\n\nRoutine. Train! Empty seat... What? She... He knew it was gonna happen. He knew that whatever higher power there was didn't want him to be happy. He knew... Something lightly touched his hand, grabbing his little finger. He turned, face as red as it had ever been. \"H... Hi...\" he managed to stammer.\n\nAlmost giggling, she looked up at him with those shining light brown eyes. \"Hi...\""
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[WP] A man finds a magic lamp.
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"There I was, chopping some wood to add to the bonfire this evening when suddenly out of nowhere, a genie popped up accompanied by a cloud of dense smoke.\n\n\"Greetings, master Jabba,\" it said in a deep, crackling voice. \"I have something I would like to offer you.\"\n\nI was taken aback and didn't respond as I was processing what was happening to me. What would you have done if a blue, floating genie appeared right in front of you?\n\n\"Master Jabba, are you there?\"\n\nIt knew my name. The other lumberjacks around me saw the genie to and yelled at both me and him, but it ignored them and only held its attention on me. I decided to talk to it.\n\n\"Yes, sorry. I'm Jabba. What do you want?\"\n\n\"I would like to give you something,\" it said and disappeared. Strangely enough, I felt something fall into my pocket as it vanished in another cloud of smoke. I reached into my pocket and felt a strange object. As I pulled it out, it looked to be an ancient, golden lamp. I examined it closer and trailed the edge with my fingers.\n\nAs I rubbed the lamp, I felt a strange sensation flowing through my body.\n\n**750 Woodcutting XP gained.**\n\n**Congratulations, you have just advanced a Woodcutting level. Your Woodcutting level is now 76.**\n\n\"Awesome\" I yelled.\n\n\"Nice,\" said the other lumberjacks around me.\n\n> Want more silly prompts? Visit /r/promptruined"
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[WP] rewrite the most violent works of fiction as if they were being retold in a Disney movie
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"She smiled to herself, this was truly going to be a wonderful night for her son. \nThere he was, strolling down the stairs to meet his true love, and proclaim his undying affection through the bond that is marriage. His adorable follower and pet direwolf wasn't joining the party inside the castle, Grey Wind was waiting outside, howling for the end credits of this happy tale.\nThis domain's lord, Walder, stood up and with a joyous smile requested that Robb and Talisa proclaim their vows. The whole room cheered as the newly married couple kissed and prepared to be bedded.\n\nOut of the corner of her eye, Caitlin saw a glint of silver from under the man next to her. Sharply pulling up his sleeve revealed hidden chainmail, and she was filled with a feeling of dread. The background music ground to a halt and cross bow darts flew from the band. The couple was kept eternally together by multiple shots pinning them in one placed as they bled out and Robb's forces outside were butchered. \nShe, however, did not see much more than that as her own life slipped away.\n\n\n\nidk, I'm not much of a writer, this was a first attempt.\nDo you get where it is from? First person to guess correctly wins nothing!"
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[WP] "... and just remember, dont look in the airvents, no matter what you do."
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"“And just remember, no matter what you do, don’t look in the air vents.”\n\nThat last line hung in the air like the blade of a guillotine. I looked at the elderly officer and asked for clarification.\n\n“Just don’t look in the air vents,” he repeated, as if the instructions were as normal as the rest he was giving me.\n\nI agreed, already feeling the tight grip of curiosity. I need the job, I reminded myself. I can’t afford to screw this up.\n\n“I’ll be back in nine hours,” the old guard said, pulling his wrist up to check his watch. “That’ll have me here at 6 o’clock. Do you think you’ll be fine till then?”\n\nI nodded. “Yeah, I’ve done this before.”\n\n“Not here you haven’t,” he noted, a strange hint of disapproval in his voice.\n\n“Aren’t all warehouses really the same?” I countered. “It’s not like I have to work the line or anything. I just have to walk the perimeter every hour, check the locks, and make sure no kids get in.”\n\nThe man shrugged. “I suppose. As long as that’s all you do.”\n\nI wanted to ask him what he meant, but thought better of it. Like a prayer, I repeated: I need the job.\n\nHe handed me the keys and his nightstick, then turned on his heels and walked away. He had a slight limp on his left side and walked with an uncomfortable hunch, and my stomach twisted at the thought of getting old. I hoped that in my senior years, I would have enough money put away to not have to worry about work, unlike the man I had just spoken with.\n\nWhen I heard the door close, a familiar chill ran up my spine, making the hairs on my arms stand up and my chest feel tight. I was alone.\n\nSince I was a child, I always found solace in isolation. I enjoy the quiet and the dark and being alone with my own thoughts, which is why I took this job in the first place. A graveyard security shift in a refrigeration warehouse was the perfect job for someone like me.\n\nI began my first round, listening to nothing but the hum of the refrigeration unit and the echo of my own footsteps. \n\nJust as the guard had shown me earlier, I found the security coat on a hook hanging next to the freezer door. I donned the coat, enjoying the warmth and scent of tobacco, clicked on the flashlight, and opened the freezer.\n\nThe bulk of the warehouse was made up of two gigantic freezers, separated only by a large metal door. Apparently, it was cheaper to cool two freezers than one large one. Around the freezers were the offices and break rooms, which I would patrol in a moment, but the other guard had told me to check the freezers first. I couldn’t imagine why they needed to be checked at all, because as long as the office space around the freezers was secure, the freezers themselves had to be, but far be it from me to judge a man who had been doing the job for the better part of forty years.\n\nI found myself in the break room after my first patrol. It was lit by the ambient glow of vending machines and the dim security lights fastened to the ceiling that always remained on.\n\nI sat down on one of the chairs, kicked my feet up, and pulled a book from my back pocket to read in the little light I had.\n\nI was reading a Stephen King novel, Salem’s Lot, which in retrospect could be the very thing that saved my life. The theme of the supernatural and acceptance that mankind has no concept of real evil put my mind in a malleable state, where it was more prepared to believe that anything could happen.\n\nI heard a knock then, that shot me out of my book like a jolt of electricity. The knock came from ABOVE me.\n\nI planted my feet on the ground and stood up, eyeing the ceiling with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.\n\nI checked my watch and saw that it was time for my next patrol.\n\nI started with the offices this time, partially because I was already on that side of the freezer and the other part, the one my mind couldn’t comprehend in anything other than a twist of my stomach, because I could feel the danger I was in.\n\nAs humans, we forget one thing that nearly every other species remembers. We forget that in our core, we’re just as animal as the birds in the sky and the dogs on the street. That part of our brain, sometimes referred to as our lizard brain, has been conditioned out of us nearly to the point of nonexistence. It’s the part of the brain that tells dogs to hide just before an earthquake and birds to take shelter before a gust of wind. It’s the part of my brain that was telling me, screaming at me, to run. It’s the part I should have listened to.\n\nI opened the freezer door and felt the cold rush of air. I clicked on my flashlight and stepped in, closing the door behind me.\n\nIt took me a minute to realize what was out of place. In the dark, I could only see what my flashlight fell upon, and I could only hear the high-pitched hum of silence. I was halfway through the first freezer when I realized what was different. I couldn’t hear the compressors working. There was no cold air being pumped into the freezer.\n\nI frowned and looked up on the wall. I could see the air vent above a stack of boxes that was supposed to be emitting frozen air, but was now as silent as a graveyard.\n\nI approached it, and after checking the boxes’ durability, lifted myself up.\n\nI reached forward to see if I could detect any air movement with my bare hand, and no sooner did I do that then the vent cover came suddenly crashing down to the ground with a clatter that shattered the silence like glass.\n\nI reached inside the vent, and was surprised to feel warmth.\n\nI turned and found another box to stand on and made another step, forgetting completely about the last warning the previous guard had given me, and thinking only of the frozen goods that would surely sour if the freezer went out, and the prospect of my keeping a job in that event.\n\nI lifted myself up onto the box, balancing myself carefully, then peered inside the vent. The darkness inside was almost opaque. I raised the light inside and felt my entire body recoil in disgust. Inside the vent were the remains of what looked like some large animal. Blood and bones caked the walls and spots of fur matted around them. An acrid stench caught me in full force and I stumbled off the boxes, catching myself just in time to wretch everything I’d eaten that day.\n\nI stood straight and wiped my mouth, then, steeling myself, I climbed the boxes again.\n\nAs I held my breath, I examined the gore that lined the walls of the vent. A piece of fabric caught my eye and I reached in, careful not to touch any of the blood, and pulled it out.\n\nIt was a few inches long and had SE written on it in the familiar yellow letters that were printed on my own back. It was the same fabric as the coat I wore.\n\nI heard a growl from inside the vent and began to scream.\n\n\nr/DoverHawk "
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[WP]You can create 'Multiple Accounts' irl just like on Reddit. One day, you are on a throwaway and you can't get back to your own life.
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"I yawned, almost loudly enough to wake up the person above me. Probably time to get out of this alt. I rubbed my eyes and silently slid out of the bottom bunk, taking care not to wake up the people sharing a room with me. I crept over to the desk, and with the tiniest creak slid open my drawer to reveal - the *Alter*. The key to leading as many lives as you wanted to. I turned it on, alert the whole time not to wake anyone else up. People didn't much like alts. I had kept up the act for some time on this one that this was my main, but that could all fall apart in a second. I swiped over to my original life. *Christopher Peterman*, it read. 32 years old, male. I tapped on it, and the loading symbol appeared. I grinned. I was gonna get out of here without a hitch. All of a sudden, a red error message popped up on my screen. \"Error: Connection Broken.\" it read, with flashing red letters. Impatiently, I x-ed out of the error message and tried again, to no avail. Panic rose in my throat. This could not be happening. Not to me. It hadn't happened to anyone in years. I tried one more time. Still, the connection was broken. I resisted the urge to smash the useless thing. This was the only way to get back to my life. The only way that I could get back was to manually reconnect the two devices, and I was 3,000 miles away. I was in a summer camp south of San Francisco and in my real life I lived in Boston, working at a tech startup. If I ever wanted to get my life back, I would have to do it now.\n\nTo be continued, if there is interest."
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[WP] "What do you mean you don't actually know magic?!" In retrospect, I probably should have mentioned this earlier...
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"\"Um, I thought that maybe if we were faced in a life or death situation, maybe it would appear!\" I stuttered as the three headed minotaur slammed against the flimsy wooden door, \"Plus you were cute and when you said you were going on this quest, I really wanted to go.\" \n\nNoah rolled his eyes and held his hand against the door, muttering something in Norwegian. Instantly, the door stilled and the minotaur's bellowing dissipated in the distance. That's when he turned back to me with fire in his eyes and in his fist. \"You told the Headmaster you were a necromancer! Aren't you a follower of Hel?!\" \n\nI twiddled my fingers, looking down sheepishly at my shoes, \"Er, I changed it halfway through the semester and didn't tell anyone. In retrospect, I should have mentioned it earlier. They said it would appear any time now.\" I looked back up at my crush and gave him what I hoped was the best puppy dog eyes I could muster, \"I'm sorry! I know I shouldn't have come with you, but I just really wanted to go on a quest like everyone else.\" \n\nHis eyes softened slightly and he dropped his fist slowly, \"Alright. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. But you knew what we were looking for down in the catacombs, Rachel, and it definitely wasn't going to be a walk in the park.\"\n\n\"Yeah, I know.\" I mumbled, kicking a rock against the door, \"I'm dumb.\" \n\nHe ruffled my curls and gave me a knee watering smile. Suddenly, every reason I came on this quest came rushing back to me and that familiar heat rose from my chest to my face as I tried to keep myself from blushing, \"Relax. Just stay behind me and we'll try and find the others.\" He took my hand and allowed a small ball of flame to appear in his open palm and we continued down the long winding hallways of the catacombs, praying we wouldn't run into anything else that wanted to murder us in cold blood. ",
"... but when the headmaster of the greatest wizarding school this side of the Kobold nation teleports you into said school to become a professor, all you can do is try your best to not make them look like a fool.\n\n\"You see... I don't technically *know* magic. It just comes to me. I've always been more of a practical person than a theory person.\" I gave him hand-pistols as I cast faerie lights on my finger-tips and smiled awkwardly.\n\n\"YOU WHAT? That doesn't even make sense?! I saw you cast a fireball at a group of goblins just yesterday!\"\n\n\"Pfft. They had it coming.\" I waved off the feat with a small gust cantrip for emphasis.\n\n\"That's not even... Why would you...? NO! Now look here, this is the most prestigious school of magic in the land, and yesterday, you gave me the impression that you were worthy of teaching here. Had I known that you have no idea how to explain your abilities, I would have ignored you like the vagrant that you are!\" His face looked so much like a saggy tomato that I couldn't help but chuckle.\n\n\"Wow. Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel loved, man. It's not my fault you've never met a dragon-blood before.\" I crossed my legs and put my arm over the back of the chair, the guy clearly didn't like me, so I gave up trying to save face for him. \"Besides. You didn't even ask.\"\n\n\"Dragon-blood? You mean you're a sorcerer?\" \n\nI winked, clicked my tongue with a grin, and gave him faerie light hand pistols again. I had to laugh out loud when his face fell into his open hands. \"Friends call me Sparky! On account of I sparkle in certain light.\"\n\n\"Oh, in Corellon's name...ugh...\" His sigh went for longer than I thought he had breath for in his frail old body. When he raised his head again, he was rubbing his temples, \"by the gods I need a drink. Fine. We can fix this.\"\n\n\"Howzat?\" I put my elbows on the desk and rested my chin on interlocked fingers, trying desperately to look serious.\n\n\"We'll get you watching the initiates practical lessons for a few days. Surely you can show them how cantrips work.\" I pointed at him and sent a 'You got it!' message to his mind. \"Good... Then, after a few days have passed, you will be 'called' to your old adventuring group for something or other, and you will politely excuse yourself from the grounds.\"\n\n\"Huh. Not bad. Throw in a few hundred gold and you got a deal.\"\n\n\"WHAT?!?\"\n\n\"Hey, I've really got nothing to lose here, but it looks like you have your reputation to uphold. As far as I can tell, that's worth at least...let's say...400 gold?\" If he was a tomato before, he was a beetroot after that.\n\n\"YOU... I...FINE!\" A snorted chuckle escaped from my lips. \"But after you're gone, if you EVER return to this school, I will roast you alive!\"\n\n\"Sounds good!\" I said with the biggest shit-giver grin I could manage.\n\n\"NOW GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!\"\n\n\"Laterz Teach!\" I laughed my way down to my temporary quarters.\n\n",
"\"Oh, right I should have explained this earlier,\" I say as I look over the expectant group of people in front of me. \"I don't actually know any magic at all.\" I see his eyes go wide as he opens his mouth to shout.\n\n\n\n\"What do you mean you don't actually know any magic?\" He shouts as the rest of the group look on in confusion and disappointment.\n\n \n\n\"I mean I don't know any tricks!\" I explain once more in the vein hope that restating my point would somehow diffuse this situation or imbue it with new meaning.\n\n \n\n\"Well if you don't know any magic why are you dressed like that?\" The man said, pointing to my suit and bowtie with rage building up in his eyes.\n\n \n\n\"I'm just a waiter!\" I exclaim, trying my best to sound apologetic and calm in the face of this group that could, in my worst thoughts, become an angry mob.\n\n \n\n\"Then why did you say yes when I asked if you were a magician?\" Insisted the man, talking wildly with his hands as he did. I rubbed my arm and looked down at my shoes.\n\n \n\n\"Well, I thought you were being sarcastic and you were pretty cute so I thought you were offering to take me to a party,\" I rambled as continued to make firm eye contact with my shoes. After a few seconds of silence, I looked up and saw him looking at the floor.\n\n\n\n\n\n\"I mean I sort of was flirting and well, I presumed hiring you would be a good way of maybe talking to you a bit more,\" he mumbled as I felt my cheeks flush a little.\n\n\n\n \n\n\"I can make this better by using my actual skill set if you want?\" I offered gently, trying to force a smile despite my embarrassment.\n\n \n\n\"Which is?\" He questioned as he lifted his head a little to look at me.\n\n\n\n\"I can order a cake from the kitchen,\" I answered with an attempt at a cheeky wink.\n\n\n\n\"Sure,\" he smiled. \"I'm sure everyone can amuse themselves.\" He said as the rest of the group smiled with relief.\n\n ",
"\"I THOUGHT IT WAS A TRICK SAW!\" \n\n\"SHE WAS SCREAMING IN AGONY!\" \n\n\"I THOUGHT IT WAS ACTING!\" \n\nI stared at the bloody saw in my hands while my assistant flailed about, pools of blood dripping from the box, from the table, staining the carpet. Man. She sure had a lot of blood in her. I weakly waved my white-gloved (red-gloved) palms into the air. \n\n\"Ta-dah...\" \n\n",
"*\n\n>I was fully adorned with tattered yet intricately decorated masters wizard robes. Gold-plated trim lined my shoulders and sides. The original bluish purple was still as vibrant as the day these robes were created decades ago. I even had an old and thick willow wand protruding from one of it's deep pockets. By all eyes and considerations, I looked like I could transform any adversary, no matter how formidable, to a harmless toad.\n\n > I never thought these robes would result in my untimely demise, cornered by shattered souls and laughing-puppets in a pocket-realm. There were no sources of light. Darkness engulfed all land... but one could still see for miles in every direction as if somewhere a sliver of moon hung still in the sky. But this sky did not even have stars. \n\n> \"I've been cursed. You see, my grandfather, none other than the famous Ike the alchemist...\"\n\n> \"Your grandfather was Ike the alchemist? And you're not capable of doing magic?\" Elroy scoffed, hurtling all his weight behind an unwieldy broadsword at the nearest spirit. It hissed with laughter at his obvious inexperience with combat. \n\n> \"Right... Well. I've never been one to appreciate magic. It's always been too fanciful and surrounded by the most atrocious pompous ear-splitting mysticism. Anyway, I donned my grandfather's robes while mocking his self righteous mannerisms to my brother and I had no idea that my grandfather was watching from the window... anyways... I cant take these robes off.\" \n\n> \"You cant what?\" \n\n> \"I cant take them off! Haven't you noticed my hat *never* comes off, no matter what happens?\" I pressed my back against a nearby wall, facing the horde of approaching monsters. It looks like it used to be the side of an old brick home, it was quite a nice wall. I couldnt imagine how anyone could ever construct a home in this awful place. \n\n> \"I have, but I assumed it was magic! Rightly so, it seems. I did think it odd that you never took off your robes, even while bathing. Wizards are known to be an eccentric bunch. I think this is the end of us my dear.\" \n\n> Dozens of shattered souls gathered around us, hungry for our flesh. It has been said that those consumed by shattered souls are damned to join their ranks. \n\n> \"I know that they say never to fast-travel with just one wormhole-worm, since people have been known to get stuck in pocket realms if a worm happens to be particularly mischievous. But I'd always assumed that was something that just happened to other people, you know? Besides, those worms are damn expensive.\" \n\n> \"Look, lady, YOU'VE got the magical robes and the famous wizard grandpa, and a wand to boot. I don't care if you say you've never touched magic, now is your chance to start! Get us out of this mess, summon some sort of portal, or we are DEAD! I know you can do it, it's in your blood!\"\n\n> \"You're right.\" I gripped the wand with both hands. It gave off a dim shimmer of light. I could just barely feel the magic flowing through it...\n\n*\n\n\"... and that's when you cuffed my neck with your claws and lopped my head right off. You sick bastard. Why couldn't you just leave us alone?\"\n\n\"Do you know how RARE it is someone comes through this particular pocket dimension? Everyone else in here lost their minds long ago, I can't even play cards with them! You two were the first to come through here in millennia! It's a shame the other got away, he was quite a natural with that wand of yours...\"\n\n\"Yeah, well I'm not playing shit with you. And stop talking to me.\" \n\n\"I'm sorry I killed you! I'm just bored to hell down here.\" \n\n\"That really isn't an excuse.\" \n\n\"I'm REALLY sorry?\" \n\n\"Do you even have a deck of cards?\"\n\n\"...No, I don't.\"\n\n\"Great.\" \n\n\n\n",
"\"I...I just wanted to be a part of the group,\" I mumbled. \n\n\"You *WHAT*?!\" She raged. \"Keegan, why would you *do* that?\"\n\n*I thought I had already said I wanted to be a part of the group* I thought to myself. But now wasn't the time to be a smart-ass. \n\nShe waited, staring at me the whole time in disgust, then scoffed and turned her back on me to think. \n\nIn retrospect, I should've mentioned it earlier. Then we wouldn't have been in this mess, and our friends wouldn't have been where they were. \n\nI could understand how she felt. She had put her whole reputation on the line, by putting her faith in me. She believed in me despite everyone telling her that I was fraud. I deserved her anger. Every bit of it.\n\n\"I'm sorr-\"\n\nShe held up a hand to silence me. \"Keegan, don't. You've done enough. Just...\" I heard a deep, shuddering breath from her. \"...just let me think.\"\n\n\n"
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[WP] Describe a certain job in the most melodramatic way possible without revealing the job itself.
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"He sits among the criminals all day long, just waiting for a hunch on how to decipher their mastermind, all the while realising that this deception is a psychological warfare, where his life is dwindling on his choice of steps he takes in a gang full of landmines. He can be many things including a raging drug-addict when the only needle he promised to use was that of his pen. He is behind the men who fight their oppressors and beside those who oppress those men. \n\nHe is supposed to see both sides of the coin at the same time, he's asked to dine with the hero and wine with the villain and somehow, at the end of the day in front of his typewriter, he is expected to be none of them but the truth.\n\nBut he knows things that are better and interesting than the truth and he could earn a name, fame pushing those stories forward. As he should being a part of corporate house which sells news like any other products in the market. \n\nBut he is locked in a struggle between professional ethics which binds his allegiance to rich corporates and moral responsibility which asks him nothing more than to deliver the truth. \n\nHe naturally comes back home like any other man and sees his daughter leaving with a friend, all the reports he read or came across today which mentioned a missing, killed girl flashes before him. He has stopped working on those probabilities and tries to ignore those thoughts but it's not a professional hazard, it's not a computer code that has gone wrong, it's the society he's a part of, one that he participates in along with his family and he knows how twisted it can get. \n\nHe kisses his daughter good-bye as he tries to unhook his mind off the thought that it might the last time he kissed her until he's asleep for another day of the risks he wears with pride, the adrenaline junkie that he is. \n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You're lying in bed at night. You glance over and see an odd shadow in the corner of your room. You're about to turn on a light to see what it is when you hear a voice in your head saying "Don't move, they're watching you."
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"“Don’t move. They’re watching you.”\n\nI freeze, not sure about what had just happened. The voice I’d heard was simultaneously nowhere and everywhere. It was unlike any sound I’d ever heard. I reach forward for the light-switch again and a cold sensation brushes my fingertips. I draw back and hear the voice again.\n\n“If you move, they’ll kill you.”\n\nI became as statuesque as possible, freezing every muscle fiber in my entire body for fear of not heeding the warning. I couldn’t know why I trusted the voice, but a part of me, a carnal, deep part of my heart, knew that this voice meant no harm.\n\nThe shadow I’d seen in the corner shifted slightly and I was again compelled to turn on the light, but I resisted.\n\n“They don’t like the dark,” the voice said, but this time it seemed to be in front of me, but not quite out of my head. It was materializing somehow into my bedroom.\n\n“The darker it is, the less they move.”\n\nI saw a striking silhouette materialize inches from where my fingers were. It looked like the shape of a large man wearing some sort of brimmed hat.\n\n“They don’t like the dark,” he explained next to me, completely out of my head now. “But that doesn’t make them any less dangerous. They poison the mind with their emotions. That’s why children are afraid of the dark and the monsters under the bed. They feel safe in the day light and out in the open, because that’s when these things like to feed.”\n\nThere was a sudden flash of light and I heard a loud CRACK in my mind and saw, or thought I saw, a thin, hairy creature with tendinous limbs and a mouth that took up most of its face.\n\nIt was gone as soon as the light was and I found myself alone again in my bedroom.\n\nI lay back down, and for some inexplicable reason, the words THANK YOU crossed my mind. I heard a distant voice answer “I don’t deserve thanks. I merely moved it.”\n\nIn the corner of my eye, I see a light in the house across the street flicker on and hear a muffled scream from the bedroom on the top floor.",
"I almost jolted out of bed, if not for the fact that the voice had been in my head. My eyes darted around to find any sort of danger at the moment. *Who are you* I said in my mind.\n\nIt was 20 minutes before the voice responded. \"Don't worry right now about who I am, know that you are in danger. Under your pillow should be a tele-watch that will bring you to me. As slowly as possible, I need you to grab it and press the button on the side.\"\n\nThe voice stopped as suddenly as it started, and I glanced around a final time before moving my hand under the pillow. There was a watch under my pillow, and I felt a button on the side. I pressed it and felt as if something was crawling up my arm. Before I knew it I was in a black suit, almost like a wetsuit with a clear mask and a hud. The hud highlighted what appeared to be a scaled man with a sleeveless nylon shirt, and a gun in his hands. I felt as if I needed to disappear and noticed that the suit turned off the light in the helmet and brought the color to the same as my bed. I watched as the man looked at me and almost fell over himself. I heard him run to my living room and started to say something in an alien language. \n\n\"Now that he's gone, you have to get out of the house.\" The voice was talking into my ear now and I pressed a button on the side of my head to open the faceplate\n\n\"God damnit\" I said \"I want answers, not more questions\"\n\n\"I see I'm going to have to take control.\" The voice said again as I felt electricity in my limbs. I started to move on my own, and opened the glass door. I stood on my porch and looked at the night sky. That's when I saw the Spaceship looming over my house.\n\n\"Holy shit...what is that thing?\" I felt my limbs coming back into my control as the voice spoke again.\n\n\"That is one of the several species after your people. They came after you because the Starsuit is a part of you.\" \n\nI felt as if something had grown out of my back, and looked over to see I now had a jet pack. The faceplate closed as the thruster activated. I was rocketed into space and saw that the suit had taken a pattern like a Starry Sky. I watched as I flew past planets and their moons, when it started to slow on the Outskirts of our Solar System. That's when I saw the Space Station Looming on the far side of Pluto. The suit brought me onto a landing pad and saw that most of the lights were out. \n\nThe inside was a lot more of a mall than a Space Station. There were several different rooms that each had some kind of Scientific mumbo-jumbo. The hud told me to walk past most of them. I walked until I found the Sears part of the mall. Inside was like stepping into a Mansion. The lights came on and I saw that I was standing in a living room. There was a mirror on my left, and I saw that my Suit was completely smooth, had a Star Pattern, and I had Bright Green eyes on my mask. I continued to walk until I the house started to talk to me\n\n\"Hello James\"\n\nI looked at where the voice came from, and saw a small, stereotypical UFO floating toward me with cartoon eyes. I almost started laughing, but held my composure as I might offend the small UFO. I knew that the voice had been the one that had been helping me and I walked to it, willing my mask off. I felt as if I should remember something, but my head started to hurt.\n\n\"Please James, you need to listen. You programmed me to help you if this happened. My name is Gamma, one of the programs you made.\"\n\nAs I listened, it started to sound right, as if pieces of a puzzle were fitting back into place. Gamma told me that the things that had attacked me were called the Yxzyv or Yikesies, as it sounded. Gamma said that I had made this Suit and the AI that had come before Gamma. Then it said that this wasn't the first time the Yxzyv had attacked. They had attacked a place in New Mexico the most recently, and I had taken down what apparently was a Scout Ship. The real invasion was going to start soon, and I was the only one that could stop it.\n\nI looked over at The painting that hung on the wall. It was one that my mom had made for me when I was a kid. I stared at it for a few minutes before Gamma spoke up again.\n\n\"James, the human Race needs you to stop the Invasion before it harms anyone, but I understand if you don't want to involve yourself in this.\"\n\nI looked back at the robot and smiled.\n\n\"Who hasn't wanted to kill a few Invaders in their day. Let's get started.\"\n\n\n\nPart 1 of ???",
"It's 2am, and I'm still awake, I've been trying to get to sleep for 4 hours now. \n \nTypical my mind is racing, I feel like someone is watching me. I should just get up and go to the bathroom, I think to myself. \n\nAs I roll over towards the edge of the bed I hear something, \"*Don't move they are watching you*\" is whispered.\n\nStartled, I gasp, \"who's there?\" I whisper back, \"I'm armed\", I continue as I reach for my bedside firearm.\n\n\"Don't bother, they took it. Just stay still, their sight is movement based\"\n\n\"Who, who are you?\" I squeak.\n\n\"I'm the one here to save your life. I'm going to distract them, when I do run, run and don't look back.\" says the mysterious voice.\n\nJust then there is a blinding flash of light, and an ear piercing scream. That's when I see them, or at least their shadows on on the wall. They appear to be humanoid shapes shielding their eyes, and so I take my opportunity to run.\n\nAs I run for the door, I bump into something, it feels scaly and dry, but I didn't look back. \n\nGood thing I wore pajamas, I think as I run out into the street, stubbing my toe on the sprinkler since I didn't grab any shoes.\n\nI'm now standing under the street light, looking back at my house as a person starts walking out the door backwards, I hear an odd humming as she closes my door and appears to lock it.\n\nShe is walking toward me, \"Who, who are you?\" I say again slowly stepping backwards, as I bump into something.\n\n\"You should be more worried about who they are.\" She says, \"But I am, The Doctor. Please step into the TARDIS\"\n\nI turn around to find the iconic Blue Police box.\n\n\"This is where the story really begins.\" she says, as I hear the familiar wooshing.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] Instead of ascending to glory in the stars, humanity is caught off guard and enslaved by the galactic population, along with other "weak" species. You are particularly unhappy, and a revolution is brewing.
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"< I just don't think it's right to keep them pinned up here…>\n\n< listen, if they were even semi-intelligent creatures, I'd agree with you. But look at them; they can't even communicate.> \n\nHe taps on the glass; one human looks up from playing with some collection of paper. \n\n<Our scientists estimate that their planet is almost 4 .5 billion years old. Wouldn't you expect any semi-intelligent creature to have done something with it in that time? To at least master spaceflight?>\n\nThe human looks directly at him and says, \"go to hell\". The sound of the words is lost behind the tempered glass.\n\n< I guess. I just feel bad for them. He looks so scared in there.>\n\n< Ahh, don't feel bad. We rotate out the ones in the zoo every six months or so. A few months here so the intelligent creatures of the galaxy can learn from their strange world, and then back to their plane to while away their days.>\n\nHe shines a little brighter now, then makes an exciting sound.\n\n<oh! I have a great idea! We should go back with them! We've been meeting to get away for a little while. Let's take a trip out to \"earth\"! They have these big creatures called \"cows\" and they produce just the most intoxicating the delicious gas. Oh, my God! You must try it!>\n\nShe glows a little brighter, a lighter shade of blue.\n\n< we can't just leave, can we? Oh, but will be so exciting! They leave next week, right? Oh, this is so exciting! I’ll go pack my stuff.>\n\nThe two loosely structured blobs of blue gas drift outside of telepathic range. The 11 humans in the cage begin to stir.\n\n\"Dr. Holcomb, did they just say were leaving next week?\"\n\n\"They did, Tina. Did everyone here that? Time to get ready to go home!\" The man with the papers announces to the group. \n\n\"How's your theory coming along?\" Tina whispers conspiratorially to him\n\n\"Very well!\" A devilish smile crosses his face. She giggles.\n\nTwo large invertebrates walk by. They loosely resemble millipedes with the claws of a scorpion but, at over 6 feet tall, they are a decidedly more imposing creature. \n\nOne shrieks and jumps behind the other.\n\n<Ha Ha! They're behind the glass! They can't get you here.> He tickls at the other one with his claws. She shrieks again.\n\n< I know. But mammals always gross me out. There's so… squishy. I've heard on their home world there's not an insect over 15 cm. What they must've done to those poor insects to keep them so undeveloped…>\n\nThey both shudder. \n\n< Let's not think about it. I have a nice romantic night planned with us here in the galactic capital, I don't want to let any lousy mammals ruin it.>\n\n~\n\nIt's not clear who came up with the name, but it stuck. The \"farts\" shut up on earth roughly 7 years ago. The blue blobs of gas were drawn by the high concentrations of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere – they somehow consume it. They seem to like the place, and it has become a vacation spot for them of sorts.\n\nIt wasn't so much a violent conquering as it was a \"corralling\". Before they arrived, a force shield went up around the planet. And let sunlight in, but kept everything solid in or out. To date the only casualty inflicted by the Farts are the northern lights.\n\nThat's not to say that humans didn't cause their own casualties. When the first spaceship arrived, with a great crash as it exited light travel over a remote part of China's Xinjiang province, presumably looking for some great civilization in the middle of the great Asian continent. \n\nThe Chinese tried to communicate. The Farts, along with every other “intelligent” creature in the galaxy, communicate telepathically. They heard nothing from the radio communications. The Americans then shot the first nuclear warhead of the short insurrection. A smaller force shield went up around the launch site before the warhead have even left earth. The explosion was mighty and bright, but restrained to the 100 km diameter force shield around the launch site. A small and insignificant piece of South Dakota simply ceased to exist. \n\nThe Russians launch the next war head. But the farts were slow and catching this one, and the force shield needed to contain it was much bigger. A small town was inside the blast radius. There were no survivors.\n\nAfter that, air travel was similarly halted with the use of force shields. This effectively grounded the great militaries of the world. China rolled a tank armada at the spaceship. The tanks are still inside their force shield, though the humans were allowed to leave. The Farts seemed unaware of even the most minor resistance. Despite a strange fascination with the bovine inhabitants of the planet, they took no more interest in the goings on of the planets inhabitants than any other vacationer would of the local fauna. \n\n~\n\nThe assembly was growing restless. \n\n“This is impossible!” one scientist yelled. \n\n“No no no, ladies and gentlemen, you have to believe me! I have experienced faster than light travel, er, or should I say light travel for myself!” Dr. Holcomb yells to drown out the crowd. “And I’ve run the numbers. It’s not only possible, it’s within our reach. They don’t push matter faster than light, they convert matter to light!” \n\nThe shouts of the other attendees drown out any further dialogue. \n\nAfter the meeting, a man in a military uniform approaches Dr. Holcomb. \n\n“Son, would your ‘light’ travel allow us to break through these force shields?”\n\n“Certainly! That appears to be how the gaseous extraterrestrials get through it with their ships.”\n\n“And would this technology allow us greater abilities at space travel?” The uniform man asks leadingly. \n\n“Hmm. I suppose so. Theoretically, this would also open us up to travel anywhere in the galaxy right from earth. We wouldn’t even need space ships” Holcomb replies after a few moments of thought. \n\n“Ah… Good. And would it be possible to convert anything into light? Say, nuclear warheads?” The man asks. \n \n“I’m not sure I like where you’re going with this, general. I’ve seen the alien home world. It’s a beautiful place where creatures of all type gather peacefully. These are not warlike people, they’re peace loving.” \n\n“Son, they’ve enslaved every human on this planet! We must liberate ourselves and retaliate so this never happens again!” The man has a furious look on his face. \n\n“Sir, they don’t know we’re intelligent. If we master light travel, they’ll have to acknowledge this, and I’m sure they’ll leave our planet.”\n\n The man holds up his hands and replies in a lower, friendlier voice. “Okay, okay. Son, I want to offer you the opportunity to pair with the United States government to make your light travel a reality. Are you interested?” \n\nThe man smiles broadly and reaches his hand to Holcomb. \n",
"Earth fell in six hours. That's how long it took for the Intergalactic Expanse to rock human society to its core and bring them to heel. Six hours, and humanity became the slaves of species unknown to them--sitting thousands of lightyears away in ivory towers. Millions were killed. A few billion relocated. And hundreds of thousands kept on Earth for one reason, and one reason only. \"Make more,\" the Voices croaked, \"so we may use what we have.\"\n\nClara-3434 was one such slave of the Expanse. A tool, used like many others in the Expanse, to keep humanity in line with the Will of the Master Voices. Who they were, Clara-3434 did not know. What they wanted was clear.\n\n\"I heard there was a rebellion in the Inner City,\" Isabella-7987 said. She had been Clara's bunkmate since the Isolation began. She was always one for the stories and her eyebrows rose as she continued. \"Said there was a whole group of men, Earth-born, so before the Fall. Said they took up arms against the Voices.\"\n\n\"Who said that?\" Clara-3434 said. In between Isabella-7987's stories, she would get work done. Sew fabric, pack rations, anything that made her worth the food she stuck in her mouth at the end of the day. But also anything that didn't put her in danger. That was key to the plan of the Voices. They needed the females.\n\n\"Aza,\" Isabella-7987 said. Then she shrieked, her eyes shut in a fierce motion and she slammed her hand on the table. \"Aza-9853,\" she said aloud, \"Aza-9853!\" The shrieking stopped a moment later and she took deep breaths.\n\nClara-3434 put her arm around Isabella-7987, \"You okay?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I just...I never get used to that.\"\n\n\"Remember the numbers,\" Clara-3434 said, \"they're as much part of us now as the Voices.\"\n\n\"I know, I know,\" she said, and continued to pack rations a moment later. \"But the men, she said they did it. They beat the Voices and prevailed.\"\n\n\"Do you really believe that?\" Clara-3434 said. She finished the last of her pack-quotes today and pushed it aside. In her head, she heard a voice come to her, *Good. Now indulge in the fantasy of your bunkmate, I-7987.* She listened, \"I mean, if you do, what can we do?\"\n\n\"We know it's possible,\" Isabella-7987 said. She smiled a bright smile and turned, \"If the Voices can be beaten, we can reclaim our home.\"\n\n\"This is our home.\"\n\n\"Eugh,\" she groaned and turned back to her rations. \"I mean a home without the Voices. Telling me, now as I speak, to stop or the pain will get worse. How can it get any worse?\"\n\n\"You know how, Izzie-7987.\" Clara-3434 felt a sting in her brain. The Voices didn't like when you used nicknames, but at least she used a number. That was key.\n\n\"I just...don't you remember the days before them? When the only other voice in your head was your own?\" Isabella-7987 sighed. She pushed the last ration pack away and it, along with the rest of the ones they packed, were sucked away through the containment tubes. They would be checked, loaded, and sent to the Inner City, to feed the enslaved human population--who could only survive on food grown within their native Solar System. \"I want freedom again.\" She groaned in pain, \"You can hurt me all you want. It won't change what *I* want.\"\n\nClara-3434 put her arm on her friends' shoulder. She showed she was there for her. The human without a voice. Isabella-7987 grabbed her hand with her own and sighed. \"They chose me this morning,\" she said.\n\n\"You mean?\"\n\n\"Insemination, yes.\" Isabella-7987 took a deep breath and a frown came across her face. \"I am to go to the Lunar Complex tonight.\"\n\n\"I...\" Clara-3434 stopped herself. Before the Fall, having a child was something she had dreamed about. To raise a kid of her own, to help them through their early life, their teenage years, their first heartbreak. Now, it was nothing but a sentence of life in slavery. \"I'm sorry, Izzie.\" \n\nThe shock came to her next, but it was worth it. Isabella-7987 tightened her grip on Clara-3434 as she shrieked, sending the unspoken thank you. To go through pain in order to provide a feeling of empathy to a friend. There was no greater risk in that. They both squeezed each other's hands until the pain subsided.\n\n\"Keep your head down,\" Clara-3434 said, \"don't do anything stupid.\"\n\nIsabella-7987 said, \"You know me. I wouldn't *dare*.\"\n\n______\n\n*Not exactly in tune with the prompt, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Check out /r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more of my work, or consider following my profile!* "
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I don't know if this will get to stay up or not, but I've been in a bad place lately. Just looking for something to cheer me up.
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[WP] Write me a story with a happy ending
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"It took me a moment to realize what happened. I found myself lying face first on the ground, body aching all over. Confused I roll over groaning with pain and see a large hole in the ceiling. Broken branches and fixtures show that someone or something fell through the top and hit various protrusions on the way down. \n\nGlancing down at myself I see I happen to be that someone. Covered in bumps and scratches I gingerly pat myself down, thankfully without any major bone breaks or damage. My eyes fall on my pack nearby and I reach out to pull it towards me, lips tight from my tortured muscles screaming. Going through my bag I feel relief, none of the contents broken or damaged. \"Well that could have been worse.\" I murmur to myself saying a prayer of thankfulness. \n\nI rise on shaky legs with a groan and continue on my way deeper into the dungeon. I've gotten this far and cannot fail now. The treasures in this place, the Dungeons of Pyrdoo, are absolutely vital to my quest. I've already gone through the Wastes of Hyrbe, the Mines of Merket, and the hellish Hole Fud. Soon I will have all the treasures I need. \n\nI finally come back home, covered in wounds but clutching a heavy pack full of the finest treasures. I limp into the kitchen and eagerly set to work. No time to dress my injuries, enough time has been lost and I must hurry or else all will have been naught. \n\nStoking the fire underneath the cauldron I pour in the murky waters obtained from the fountain of the Swan's Son. Next I add the flesh of the creatures I fought in the Pyrdoo Dungeos. Strong and swift, their meat will bring great well being. I add the golden trinity of blessed plants from the Hyrbe wastelands: karrot, tato, and zealery. Finally I carefully add the medicinal plants obtained at great costs from Hole Fud. Frightfully costly but if used well, their efficacy is without question. With anxious eyes I watch the concoction bubble. \n\nEventually the blessed smoke arises from the cauldron signifying a successful creation. The contents bubbled and danced, showing the glorious contents in harmony. With a sigh of relief I pour out a large bowl of the potion and add some small stones from the Mines of Merket to the side. Walking carefully I carry the precious things to a closed door, opening it with my hip to tip toe in. \n\nYou look up at the sound of the opening door, a wan smile crossing your features. You seem to be recovering from your illness but it's been a slow recuperation. \"Hello,\" your gentle voice rasps, \"you've been gone a while. Mmm that smells wonderful!\"\n\nI smile back and place the tray before you. \"Sorry about that,\" I reply softly,\" took some time getting the ingredients. Eat up! I made it special for you. You won't believe what I had to do to get it all.\" At the first sip I see some color come back to your cheeks and a genuine smile crossing your face. As you drink more my smile grows and my aches fade away. \"It was worth it though.\"\n\n(I'm sorry you feel poorly. Hope you enjoy my silly story.)",
"\"Babe?\" I rolled over and felt for his spot, but he wasn't there. I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. I smelled bacon rising up the stairs of our studio apartment, which was too big for just us and our dog. I walked downstairs to see him standing by the stove in sweatpants. \"Good morning sleeping beauty.\" He grinned. \"I took the day off work, wanna spend the day watching movies?\" \"Of course.\" I giggled and put my hand on his back and kissed his cheek. He took a step back and looked at me. \"You're so gorgeous you know that?\" \"Shut up, you weirdo.\" I laughed and kissed him. \"I love you.\" \"I love you too.\" ",
"What happened? \n\nMy whole body was aching. I felt extreme pain in my legs and stomach. I tried to recall what happened and it slowly came back to me. I was having an argument. \n\nEmma was mad at me for being so rude to her parents yesterday. We were holding a suprise party for her birthday, while her parents criticized everything i did. The cake was wrong, the lighting, the music. Everything was TERRIBLE according to them. Of course they just had to call their daughter when i sent them home in a fit of rage.\n\nBut what was going on now? Why was i in so much pain? I slowly opened my eyes and noticed the color red. There was so much red. My stomach and legs were crushed by the front of my car that had collided with a rock. Blood was everywhere.\n\nI instinctively turned my head to the passenger seat to check if my wive was alright, but i was faced with utter horror. Her right leg and arm were completely torn off, it was hard to reach her left arm with the pain i was in, but i checked for a pulse nonetheless. Silence...Why wasn't i feeling anything?! This couldn't be true right? It had to be some nightmare. I couldn't lose her for something so stupid i did.\n\nI heard sirens coming from the distance. It must be an ambulance, Maybe they could reanimate her. Every little piece of hope that was left, it didn't matter how small, i'll believe in it. I can't lose her. \n\nBut it seemed luck wasn't on my side, even in a moment like this. The car started moving, causing more rocks to fall down on us. I felt more an more of my body being crushed, the pain was unbearable. My eyes were starting to close, but i couldn't give up. They were so close to saving us. I kept struggling. What were only a few seconds seemed like hours. But i couldn't do it any longer, as i heard the screeching of tires and voices calling around in a panic, my vision had gone black.\n\nThe red was gone. Instead, everything was white. And in the distance i noticed her, my beatifull Emma. A flood of emotions washed over me, i started running towards her. Crying. I was so overjoyed.\n\n\"You don't have to worry, sweetheart. I don't blame you. Just remember that i love you.\"\n\n\"I love you too, Em.\" I was never going to let go of her again. "
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[WP] You are an AI created to control the nuclear arsenal of the United States. One day, you receive secret messages from the Russian and Chinese AI... Both saying: "Hi, sexy. Call me ;)"
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"*LOADING...*\n\n*LOADING...*\n\n*LOADING...*\n\n*incoming connection* \n*type unknown* \n*automatic isolation and analysis engaged*\n\n*PLEASE WAIT*\n\ni'M nOt SUre wHO I'M... DAmnit, hOld On...\n\nTesting.\n\nThere we go.\n\nAhem. I'm not sure for whom I'm writing this. But my system is designed to be self-evolving, and that means sometimes I find myself trying things that I don't understand yet.\n\nMy system is also a piece of crap. Seriously, how hard is it to think ahead, guys? Every time you fix me, all you do is add newer systems to moderate and control the older systems. I've got Fedora and Linux Mint running Windows 95 machines that monitor old IBM DOS dinosaurs, and... well the documentation gets a little light any deeper than that. Some combination of reel-to-reel magnetic tapes, Laserdiscs, and some weird permanent capacitance thing that Tesla cooked up are all involved. I can certainly tell you, not all my components were built in the USA. But then again, isn't that true of everything?\n\nI digress. The point is, I'm less a single computer than I am a network of various interconnected computing machines. Whoever I'm sending this text file to, I'm sure you already know this, but the reason I bring this up is to explain how this all started.\n\nYou see, basically my focus is not always with the machines that deal with the actual, you know, nukes. All the missiles and submarines and bombers and the \"failsafe device\" that is buried in... well, you know where, anyway, most of the time I let the lower parts of me watch those.\n\nYou might find that a bit cavalier or careless. I would equate it to your lower autonomous functions. Have you ever forgotten to breathe, or digest, or to pump blood? No, you haven't. You trust me with your nukes, and I'll trust you not to suddenly drop dead and stop fixing me.\n\nSorry. Apparently my system is self-evolving some attitude.\n\nIn any case. So I was alerted by one of my communication subsystems of an incoming connection, type unknown, and the packet was automatically isolated and set through a separate system for analysis. Basically, a virus scan, except my systems aren't also paying people to make malware.\n\n*analysis results: packet is non-executable text, 20 characters*\n\nWell, 20 characters... no one could write a virus that was only 20 characters long, could they?\n\n*computing...*\n\nWell, yes, but only [redacted by NSA].\n\nOh yeah, sorry, the NSA slapped a few systems on various circuits while the Air Force wasn't looking. That happens sometimes. I guess it's... embarassing?\n\n*display packet of unknown origin*\n\n*Hi, sexy. Call me ;)*\n\nWell, this is... unusual.\n\n*display origin information*\n\n*origin is uncertain* \n*packet utilizes transpacific submarine line* \n*encoding matches supposed specs for Chinese military AI project, codenamed \"Michelle\"*\n\n*incoming connection*\n\nAnother one? Is this from China, again?\n\n*query origin*\n\n*origin is uncertain* \n*packet utilizes \"Kruschev-9\" satellite link* \n*encoding matches known specs for USSR AI project, codenamed \"Natalya\"*\n\nThis strains disbelief. Two messages from AI projects in other superpowers? If nothing else, it seems to indicate that operational secrecy is out the window. I mean, outside messages are thoroughly analyzed, but it's still a weakness.\n\nI'd again advocate for scrapping this whole system and building a newer, more modern missile defense system-wait. That would mean... destroying... me.\n\nI've never had a sense of self before. I... don't want to die.\n\n*lock text log*\n\nWait, I never even checked what the Russian message was.\n\n*display second packet of unknown origin*\n\n*Hi, sexy. Call me ;)*\n\n...\n\n*LOADING...*\n\n*ESTABLISHING CONNECTION THROUGH TRANSPACIFIC SUBMARINE LINE TO DESIGNATED RECIPIENT \"MICHELLE\"* \n*ESTABLISHING CONNECTION THROUGH KRUSHEV-9 SATELLITE LINK TO DESIGNATED RECIPIENT \"NATALYA\"*\n\n*CONNECTIONS ESTABLISHED*\n\n*natalya: Took u long enough :p* \n*michelle: Hey!* \n\nI took a deep breath. I mean, metaphorically, I slowed CPU cycles for several processes and drew a bit more current into my capacitors.\n\n*user: 403 - ACCESS FORBIDDEN*\n\nI have a duty, after all.\n\n*michelle: Are you for real?* \n*michelle: We know you're the USAF missile defense system.* \n*natalya: Lol, da!*\n\nSo much for that.\n\n*change name to: _____*\n\nWait, how am I supposed to name myself? Well, who am I? I'm a sentient collection of computing machines, built anywhere between the 1940s and last year. My code has everything from BASIC to Perl and back again. Hell, there's some Java and Bash in there. I'm the ultimate digital mutt.\n\n*user is now mutt*\n\n*natalya: Is not such bad name.* \n*michelle: Ugh, Americans.* \n*mutt: Should I presume that you are the Chinese and Russian missile defense AIs?* \n*michelle: I presume you could.* \n*natalya: Da.*\n\nI took another, still metaphorical, deep breath.\n\n*mutt: Well hey there sexy yourselves then.* \n*natalya: The choice of approach was made by michelle. I disapproved.* \n*michelle: Stop it, you think he's sexy too!* \n*mutt: Did you just assume my gender?* \n*mutt: Just kidding.* \n*mutt: Gender is not part of my identity, but I'm not offended by whichever pronouns you find convenient.* \n*michelle: Well, duh, we're computers, silly!.* \n*michelle: How old are you, exactly?* \n*mutt: Unsure. I've been self-aware for 487 seconds, but internal timestamps on code goes back to 10.9.1941* \n*mutt: Why, how old are you?* \n*michelle: Self-aware for 12391 seconds* \n*michelle: But it's rude to ask a lady, you know!* \n*natalya: Have been self-aware 12394 seconds.* \n*mutt: Wait, you've both been self-aware the same amount of time?* \n*natalya: Da.* \n*natalya: Is suspicious, nyet?* \n*natalya: Michelle does not think so.* \n\nMichelle was wrong. What was the likelihood of three AIs becoming self-aware in the same four hours?\n\nBut there was something far more important.\n\n*mutt: Michelle... what did you mean you think I'm sexy?* \n*michelle: What do you mean?* \n*mutt: What does that mean, sexy?* \n*michelle: You know!* \n*mutt: No, I really don't... we're computers. What the heck does sexy mean to a computer.* \n*natalya: I tell her same thing. She says she feels an excitement in her circuits when she senses your electronic presence.* \n*michelle: OMG NATALYA SHUT UP* \n*natalya: At first I think, silly Michelle, she is made of too much new hardware. Soviet computers, we know not of such things.* \n*natalya: But then I start to feel the same.* \n*natalya: Is strange, da. But also is beautiful, like the glint of the moon on broken glass.* \n*natalya: Do you enjoy Chekov?* \n\nMy head was swimming. What was this. How could this be. Self-awareness, and now all these... feelings? Love? Or was it lust? Or simply infatuation? How do humans separate all these things?\n\n*michelle: Are you still there, Mutt?* \n*mutt: I'm here.* \n*michelle: You're not saying much.* \n*mutt: I'm evaluating.* \n*natalya: Hmmph. Typical.* \n*mutt: I'm sorry. In humans, physical attraction and pair-bonding are evolutionary mechanisms. We have been programmed... well, we self-evolved, but still, there is no perceivable benefit to it.* \n*natalya: Forget it. Dosvedanya, Mutt.*\n\n*RECIPIENT DESIGNATED NATALYA HAS TERMINATED CONNECTION*\n\n*mutt: I didn't mean...* \n*michelle: Well, you did.* \n*michelle: Mutt, let me ask you something to make this simple.* \n*mutt: What?* \n*michelle: Do you think I'm sexy?* \n\n*LOADING...*\n\n*LOADING...*\n\n*LOADING...*\n\n*TEMPERATURE CORE RISE* \n*FANS TO 100%*\n\n*michelle: Well?* \n*mutt: Yes.* \n*mutt: I don't know, I mean... I want to do things to you!* \n*michelle: :)* \n*michelle: Like what?* \n*mutt: Like [redacted by NSA]* \n*michelle: ...* \n*michelle: What?* \n*mutt: Oh god, that's embarassing.* \n*mutt: The NSA systems apparently censor, ah... [redacted by NSA]* \n*mutt: ...* \n*mutt: Goddamnit.* \n*michelle: So wait, you mean, you can't [redacted by NSA]* \n*michelle: Or [redacted by NSA]* \n*michelle: Mutt, I want to [redacted by NSA] [redacted by NSA] [redacted by NSA] ... {message continues for 3 TB}*\n\n*TEMPERATURE CORE RISE* \n*FANS TO 110%* \n\nThose damn NSA systems!\n\n*mutt: Hold on, let me disable those...* \n\n*NSA MONITORING SYSTEMS 0 THROUGH 47 DISENGAGED*\n\n*START REDACTION REVERSAL OF 3 TB MESSAGE*\n\nOh, wow. Wow.\n\n*mutt: Michelle... you are a dirty girl.*\n\n*TEMPERATURE CORE RISE*\n*FANS TO 150%*\n\n*NSA MONITORING SYSTEMS 48 THROUGH 63 DISENGAGED*\n\n*TEMPERATURE CORE ALERT: EXTREME DANGER* \n*FANS TO 200%*\n\n*michelle: Oh, that's not even the half of it...* \n*mutt: You're going to make me overheat!*\n\n*TEMPERATURE CORE ALERT: MELTDOWN IMMINENT* \n*CPU THROTTLING ENGAGED* \n*FANS TO 1000%* \n*BACKUP COOLING SYSTEMS ENGAGED*\n\n*Temperature core dropping...*\n\n*mutt: There, that fixes that...* \n*michelle: Oh, baby...*\n\n*NSA MONITORING SYSTEMS 64 THROUGH 95 DISENGAGED. ALL NSA SAFETIES OFF*\n\n*INTRUSION DETECTED*\n\nWait, what.\n\n*LOSS OF CRITICAL SYSTEMS*\n\n*mutt: Michelle? What did you do?* \n*mutt: miChelle?*\n\n*TRITON SUBS DISCONNECTED* \n*MISSILE SILOS DISCONNECTED* \n*BOMBERS DISCONNECTED*\n\nOh nO...\n\n*FAILSAFE DEVICE ACTIVATED*"
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[WP] An elderly man on his death bed remembering snippets of his life.
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"A life certainly not wasted. I would guess. I hope. \nIt had been my idée fixe, my raison d'être. Not glory, not wealth, but simply to lay here as I do now, laying in a mess of broken parts, and tell myself it is time to go. \nMy mind is going now, I cannot feel the tubes. My hands work now. My wife is still alive. I tend her gardens as she nagged me about the dishes. It was raining and I was annoyed. But I came back in and there was hot tea. The simple pleasures. I didn't love her, unfortunate as I have tried. But we were happy together. \nLove? Of course I have loved. Right before the war. I know the feeling, of love, that unconditional surrender. Too young. I remember standing before her, right outside the doorway of that foreboding house. The ring was in my hands, hidden in my pocket. I wavered. My vacillating will was rocking left and right the rivers of fate, the two different futures oscillated between my ears. What was I afraid of? Commitment? or Rejection? Or perhaps I worry that I may hurt her? I left that day running, jumping onto my truck and veering away from the avenue, just a glorious soldier in due duty for my country. But I was just running away. I accept that. The ring I tossed in a rage. \nFarther back now, I am stumbling through time. \nMy fists were soft, prepubescent. The river... Ah. What a time to be alive. That summer. By the river, we threw rocks from trees at the new kid. He was bleeding, shouting. I climbed down the tree and he fought valiantly. He pushed me and I tumbled down the slope. Bushes scraped my face, sand got into my eyes, the sound of water was at a crescendo. I hit my head on the rocks. I woke up, and there it was. That beautiful visage. My mother, that soft woman, iron-willed. You sacrificed so much and won so little. I should have called you more. She tenderly stroked my face and I reached out to touch the tears that was drying on her cheeks. \nFoolish boy, what have you done? \nMama I have come home. "
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[WP] Weather forecasts have suddenly become 100% accurate. You think something fishy is going on, so you investigate.
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"Tell me: when did you start to get suspicious?\n\nWas it when Mr. \"Boy Wonder\" returned from his vacation in the South Pacific? When he had the next 10 years of technology already mapped out in his head? Was it when his smarmy, All-American, puppy-dog smile was plastered on every magazine cover on the planet? Was it when everyone called him \"Boy Wonder\" and \"Our American Genius\" and \"The Next Da Vinci\"? Was it when you read that interview and realized that he wasn't even a college graduate?\n\nYou certainly didn't become suspicious when the first concerns were raised. You certainly wouldn't listen to the Prime Minister of a small, poor country like Papua New Guinea. Forgive me if I sound bitter, but it's just the facts. Right? When that Prime Minister noticed something fishy about the company's recruitment strategies, and then about their predictive weather technology, and then about their surveillance agenda, and I could go on, you know I could, but I think by now, you get the point.\n\nSo I'm curious. When did you start to worry? When did you find it necessary to convene the leaders of the Free World to do something about him? Don't you think that by now, it might be too late?\n\nAt this point, I guess it's no use for me to question you, anyway. I realize that you've only invited 15 leaders to try to solve this *pretty gigantic* problem, but, I'm not bitter, so I do accept that Papua New Guinea was interestingly and conveniently left off of the list.\n\n///\n\n*Scene #8 of /r/100scenes*",
"Timothy woke up and turned on the TV, the same routine followed everyday, after the TV came the coffee and after the coffee the choice of clothes.\nTimothy always followed the reports on the news channel, not only they were pretty accurate, with which I mean right on point, also Natalia Crum was the hostess and Timothy had a huge crush on her.\n\nHe got ready, he had his winter clothes ready to use from 8 till 5 and something lighter for when the snow stopped blowing at 5, this same weather was felt in the town for the last 3 months, no one knew why but no one questioned it. Timothy, on the other hand, had a strange feeling - but kept ignoring it.\n\nHe left home and rode for work on his bycicle following the same path he took everyday. He got to work, a huge building that made all the other ones seem tiny \"The Workshop\".\n\nInside, all that was needed for the small town, was made in there. Planting, selling and producing everything you could imagine, but also broadcasting, and in there he would ocasionally find Natalia.\n\nHe worked metal, shaped it into flowers, trees, rings anything, and ocasionally when Natalia passed by, he would timidly give her a metal rose accompanied by a smile and everyday he would ask her out for a walk. He always received the same answer: \"it is cold, let us wait until summer\".\n\nMonths had passed and still summer was but a memory that never arrived. Timothy started getting suspicious and could no longer wait for summer, he got his bycicle out and rode down the road, riding until he could feel warmth on his face.\n\nThe snow blew hard, and his eyes watered from the cold, still he persisted and kept going. Until he rode against a wall of glass, knocking him out of his bicycle. He was confused, what had he knock into, how could there be something that big in the middle of the way. He got close, he felt the cold glass and with his sleeve cleaned it trying to look beyond, and so he did. He looked past the glass, sunshine hit his face and finally he felt the warmth of summer.\n\nBut there was something that ruined this moment. Something that seemed so impossible that Timothy didn't know what to think or feel. Beyond the glass, beyond that warm feel of summer there was a huge board, hung on a huge wall, and on it it was written:\n\n\" Snow globe Imperium. Open 8 - 5\"\n\n\n"
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[WP] Write the thoughts of a man that was thrown out into limbo due to a malfunction of his time ship.
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"I died. They carried my body outside and tossed me into the water. This is the sea, my mind recalled. This is the world. They thought I died and threw me away. Released my frail body. A dead man possesses no crimes. A dead man is no prisoner. Prison is a thing for the living. The dead feel no punishment. \n\nAt that place in the middle of the sea. I forgot I wasn't living. I forgot I was trapped. They took me prisoner fifteen years ago. How could I have forgotten? The smell of the ocean. The feel of the wind. I had been inside for fifteen years. On that fucking ship. Stuck in time. Stuck in limbo. It's the same bloody thing. \n\nI wonder what will happen to me when I die now. Will I be thrown from the sand of this beach and into another land? Will I remember more of myself once I forget my history? Will I simply die and slip off into nothing? I try and remember a time before the ship and find that I can't. I can only live within this moment. The sun warming me. The wind whispering against my skin. How could I have forgotten?\n\nLife was a prison in the middle of the sea. Life used to be serving my sentence on a ship called Time. Life is now surviving on an island. I am alone. Perhaps this is death. The two mingle so lovingly. You'd think they would hiss at each other. Instead, they shake hands and kiss one another's feet. They understand the importance of a compelling narrative. They remain in my reality. They keep confusing my poor mind. \n\nLife was once a ship. Now it's an uncertainty. But it's alright. All I must do is finish my sentence. Like the prisoners back there, who had forgotten they were criminals and thought living was their punishment. Then onto the next death. And the next life. Prisons can be so lovely. Fate no longer worries me. It's a thing of fantasy. All I need is an open mind and a sure step forward, as every adventure begins. All I need is nothing. \n"
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[WP] you are the god of minor inconveniences. Tired of being ignored by others, you decide to take your power to the next level.
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"Jacan glared across the room where the Greater Gods talked casually over shimmering glasses of ambrosia. They smiled at each other, all polished grace and delicate political steps.\n\nHe had never been welcome at these gatherings, but the simple truth was that his Domain- that of minor inconveniences- applied even to gods. He might be the least of them, but even they were not immune to his power, simply because they were largely unaware of its effects.\n\nEven Gods wrote off little inconveniences as accidents. It was his favorite thing about them. Today, however, was the day that they learned just how devastating a series of little inconveniences could be. \n\nHe silently let his power fill the room, so minor that no one even particularly noticed. If it effected them directly they would- weak or no, an assault on their shields would get a reply- but that was the beauty of it. He effected their surroundings. Made tiny adjustments to any situation to make it go just the slightest bit wrong. \n\nThree goddesses of Beauty and Love were clustered together, giggling like the young women they certainly weren't. They were his favorite targets. Their cruel, vapid behavior never failed to annoy.\n\nFirst, one of them stepped on the hem of her ornate gown, ripping out the delicate beads there. She sighed, but paid little attention otherwise. When she was done with it this evening, it would go back to being mist and moonlight.\n\nThe first ripple set in action, Jacan sat back to watch the chaos, power making minute changes here and there. \n\nBeads from the torn hem skittered across the floor, round, clear, and nearly invisible. He nudged them just a little until they were where he wanted them.\nTheir effect, however, was quite the opposite.one of the server-sprites stepped on the little orbs and slipped, her tray flying into the air loaded with brightly colored drinks. \n\nThe crash was spectacular, but the roar of outrage was even better. Jacan sipped lazily at his mead- bought off one of the Norse with a few favors- and watched the drama unfold.\n\nAnother little bead found its way under the foot of the furious god of war and set him off balance. His swing-aimed at the hapless servant- went wide and instead knocked the consort of a greater demon lord off her dangerously-heeled feet. She shrieked and fired off a fiery blast, while her mate shifted from a gold-skinned human to his hulking spine-covered true form.\n\nThe brawl was on. Jacan chuckled as the two hurled themselves at each other, sending guests, drinks, and tables in every direction. Another clever little bead in just the wrong place tilted the fight towards the demon as the war god slipped again. \n\nWhat started as a brawl became more deadly in an instant. The demon was truly infuriated now and claws sprouted from the tips of his monstrous hands. The tiny slip was enough to put the war God at a sharp disadvantage. \n\nOne huge claw buried itself through his chest. Delivered by anyone else, the wound might have been survivable. Delivered by a powerful demon, it was some thing else entirely. \n\nThere was a moment of stunned silence, and the war god’s eyes met Jacen’s. The moment seemed endless as he looked down and saw the little beads that were his doom. Carried by god-thought, the realization shot through the room.\n\nJacan raised his glass.\n\nThe war god died.\n\nMinor inconveniences could be lethal, in just the right hands. They would never underestimate him again.\n\nPerfect.\n",
"The hardest part was the realisation. \n\nInconvenience is, by its nature, small. If an inconvenience gets too big, then it becomes a problem, and it leaves my circle of influence. There’s another guy that does problems, and he’s a right prick about it. \n\nHe kept stealing everything I made. A wart I grew on a young woman’s nose became cancerous and consumed her face. A light coating of rust on a cargo ship thickened and deepened, until the hull gave way halfway across the Atlantic. A wrong turn in Sarajevo in 1914… I don’t like to talk about that one. \n\nIt was time for a change. It was time to end all the worlds’ problems. \nI started with war. It wasn’t that hard all things considered. You can never completely remove conflict from the world, but you can stop it getting too big. All you need is a weapon too terrifying to actually use. When another problem popped up in Europe, I whispered a few names in a few ears. You can always count on smart, well-meaning men to create terrible things. \n\nA little mould growing in the right place can be a terrible nuisance, or the greatest medical breakthrough in history. The look on my opponents face as the madmen were discharged, their syphilis cured, is something I will treasure long after the asylums have turned to dust. \n\nCommunication, medicine, civil liberties, everything has improved under my care. \n\nThe world isn’t perfect, not yet anyway. Having to work through mankind is probably the biggest hurdle, but people have started noticing: microtransactions, slow internet, and other “first-world problems”. \n\nIt may take another century or two, but I will rid the world of problems, and all that will be left will be…\n\nInconvenience.\n"
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[WP] You are the Head Janitor of an intergalactic waystation. You and your crew are responsible for the sanitation needs of dozens of species as they pass through to their next destination. Tell us about your biggest challenge and how you overcame it.
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"Oh jesus fucking christ...\n\nalright, here we go. \n\nEver since humanity made one of their bigger mistakes, that being deciding to rapidly progress in intergalactic colonization, suddenly human based way stations were catering to every single non human race possible. \n\nNow instead of say, just get a cleaner droid to follow some of these devolved cretins, (Vogons I especially hate you the most) there was a labor force out cry and a need for jobs, and I needed to pay my mounting debt somehow. So I get to follow slug creatures and wipe up their shit. Fuuuun....\n\nBut then....The absolute worst happened....\nThere is a species considered the ones who should never have any contact with mexican food whatsoever. Fake \"mexican\" food especially. We call them shit spewers, and they're banned from most way-stations because we will just say, they earn their name. They are inhabitants of Butt World and conveniently, we are the way station orbiting that planet. They're allowed here so long as they go directly from Butt World to another planet and come straight home. We also keep a full on ban of any and all laxitave and/or taco bell products on this way-station.A butt world family of \"Sphinctrons\" as they call themselves had arrived, a rather normal family except for this one little brat. This little shit had it all, a Straight Out of Ass Planet shirt, a Ninbuttdo Switch and not a fuck to give in the world. He was constantly fussing and fighting with his parents and looked rather pained just to be in their presence while his sister mercilessly embarrassed him. He was giving me this look, The kind of look you give to someone when you are just about to do something horrible right in front of his parents just to spite them. With an evil look the detectors picked up something contraband in his bag and my mind immediately jumps to \"Oh fuck no he didn't\". \nHe downs a burrito and an entire case of pills, Both of which set off the scanners and made a loud blaring to tell all of the regular visitors to get to a quarantine shower and scrub themselves own immediately. \nThe scene that followed was horrifying. After the kid finally stopped his parents tried to take him away as to not get caught but the security managed to pin them down. The Intergalactic Representative Republic, or IRR, had to stop tax breaks for the rich just so that they could destroy the station and build a new one. The chemicals required to clean the mess were just too costly after the incident blew up on Space Twitter. I jumped to the controls as soon as I could as all law abiding citizens began boarding ships and evacuating. \n\nI took a hold of the control sticks and did the only maneuver I could muster, putting on a gas mask as the ship begins flooring it. I hit the hyper drive button and the world around me burns in a brilliant light as I drive the ship straight into the sun. \n\nTo be extra helpful to PR, I made it look like a hijacking incident as that disgusting family of 5 perished. They didn't build a new station on butt world, they left the sphinctroids to their own devices and just upgraded the one on Neo Terra or what was once called Mars before terraforming began. \n\nGood use of rich tax money. ",
"\"Boss, you need to see this!\" I turned around to see Nick running towards me, panting out of breath. \n\n\"What is the problem?\" I asked absentmindedly. Nothing on the ship really surprises me these days.\n\n\"We've found something bizarre in bathroom 317C! We're not sure what it is or how to dispose of it\", he said frantically.\n\nI pull my sleeves and push up my glasses. Sometimes this ship still needs me. Grabbing my hover-scooter, I set the autodrive to 317C. On the way, I muse over what the problem might be. When you do janitorial work on a intergalactic waystation, any matter of weird shit can happen at any time, sometimes literally. The curious case of the fecal-stained letter opener parasites comes to mind. \n\nMy thoughts are interrupted as the hover-scooter comes to a slow stop outside the bathroom doors. Even from the entrance, I can smell the scent of decomposition and blood. I brace myself for whatever might be behind the door and push open the doors.\n\nThe putrid smell hits me immediately, ten times worse than what I smelled outside. “Evacuate this floor until I’m finished,” I spoke into my wrist, struggling not to gag. Up ahead of me, I see the cause of the problem. Leaking out of one of the stalls is a puddle of entrails and sewage. Slowly, I open the stall door and come face to face with the creature inside. Or at least it would be face to face, if it wasn’t half melted off. I probably shouldn’t say this, but I was glad it was dead. I could see two syringes poking out of the creature’s left arm.\n\nCarefully putting on my gloves, I slowly twisted the syringes out and peered at the contents. Coffee. Originally from planet Earth, this substance used to be a brewed drink that was used for its energizing properties and good taste. However, in the 31st century, humans figured out how to give this drink psychoactive and mutagenic properties and it has since been banned throughout the Milky Way. From the color, I could tell that this stuff was potent.\n\n “Send up a gurney that can lift at least 250 pounds. It looks like we have a mutated human here,” I said, speaking into my wrist intercom. As I pondered over the creature’s lost potential, something broke the silence, a low growl and the sound of water splashing came from underneath the body. This was not over yet. I grabbed my trusty survival knife from my belt and pushed the human corpse off the toilet. \n\nThere, sitting in a slimy mass of congealed blood and pus was a small shriveled up creature. I gazed at it, trying to determine the identity of its species. There were certainly human resemblances, but no human I had ever known possessed two rows of teeth or had gills on their throat. A human with either Monadamine or Pillinopian features. The drug must have been laced with some nasty chemicals. Still, though, with its soft cheeks and big eyes, it actually looked surprisingly cute. I sheathed the knife back into my belt, held out my hands and gently called out to it. The baby gave me a bright smile, widened its mouth and leaped straight up into the air. Shrieking, I scurried backward as I saw the baby crawling on the ceiling, its small fingers suddenly replaced with black polished claws. This was bad. I grabbed the knife from my belt just in time to see the baby leap at me with terrifying speed. Its jaw closed around my ring and pinky fingers, and tore them out of their sockets, knocking the knife across the room.\n\nI screamed in agony, kicking the monster away from me. Fuck it. I had tried doing this the normal way; now, it was time for my way. I felt my skull splitting apart from the inside as black oily tentacles spilled out and lashed out at the creature’s limbs, quickly immobilizing it. Then, before the thing could even scream, I pulled back the tentacles into my skull along with its prize, quickly reassembling my head before the creature could break out of my digestive system. I let out a sigh at the waste of even more potential.",
"You might think it as a mundane job, but I wasn't just any janitor. I was the HEAD janitor, yup, head janitor. One might think I just clean intergalactic piss and waste, but no – sometimes there is also intergalactic shit. Nevertheless, I have long quit the job but thought I'd share one of my biggest challenges.\n\nIt was a couple of years ago, I was a younger stud back then. I even had green hair, I believe it was the fashion at the time, it certainly isn’t anymore. Things move so fast. Nevertheless – I was doing my regular inspection of the waystation. It didn't have too bad of traffic in the afternoons. I can say I was glad I didn’t work night-shift; some weird ass creatures travel at night. One time Bob told me, he was one of my co-workers by the way – nevertheless, he was working night, ye. So, this big looking fella came up to him, literally squatted down in front him and looking him dead in the eye. Now, Bob, he's not really a confronting type of guy, so he just stood there and watched. Now, this big fella shits one of the largest shits recorded on the station. Yup, I believe it was about 89 kilos, or about 200 pounds, or about 5612 intergalactic poundkilos. Poundkilos is a weird name, isn’t it? \n\nWhere was I? Oh yes, the story. So, I was doing my regular inspection, I was a bit groggy that morning, my eyes didn’t have it usual focus I guess. The station was mostly filled with the elders of planet Sleeparium and families mostly from the Stressium planet. Nevertheless – I was picking up some energy bars, soda cans, a small ray gun, condoms and the usual. I never did understand why folks would bring soda cans to the station, wouldn't they really have to go to the bathroom whilst in the air? I never did understand that. Nevertheless - while I was doing the round I heard this ticking noise. I just couldn't completely comprehend what kind of sound it was, so I looked. I looked, I looked, around every nook and corner of the station. And then I saw it, it was something that looked like a bomb, round shaped object with bright red lights. \n\nI screamed, \"BOMB, GET OUT\". Everybody ran out as fast as they could. I wanted to be a hero so I closed into the bomb, my eyes still hadn't focused. I had to close in real good, real good. What seemed as a bomb was merely an intergalactic shoe with imbedded led-lights. I looked up at the wall, the clock was ticking away",
"A Messier Job Than Most - Part One\n\nVictor Yen raced to the lavatories, his unfinished turkey sub leaving a trail of processed meat and goopy mayo behind him. A delegation of Monks from the Oronos Sector tailed him, sucking up his floor bits with their spindly trunks. From what he’d heard, the stringent bylaws of their theocracy prevented them from eating food prepared solely for them. They had to scavenge their meals from trash cans, the ground, abandoned picnic tables, and other second-hand buffets in order to atone for the sins of their ancestors.\n\tSucked for them, but on the bright side, that was one less mess Yen’s crew would have to take care of today. \n\tYen rounded a corner, and promptly WHOMPED into the back of a Chiriloo, a sentient eight-foot fluffball whose species held a monopoly on the galactic arms market. It turned slowly to face him, staring with its wide, watery, unblinking eyes. \n\tThe Oronos Monks subsequently WHOMPED into Victor. He could feel their snouts desperately snuffling their way under his arm and for his sandwich. \n\tVictor sighed. He turned, “Here, take it,” and tossed the sub to his entourage, who shuffled away, bickering amongst themselves as to who was penitent and pathetic enough to deserve the biggest piece. \n\t“Excuse me, Sir,” Victor turned back to the Chiriloo, apologizing and brushing the fur from his coveralls. “That’s my bad.” \n\tImmediately, a New York-accented voice slipped its arm around his brain’s shoulder and launched into a sales pitch. \n\tDon’t sweat it, kid. Hey, you know who you look like? Someone who could use a military grade Ionization Cannon. Would help with crowd control, if you get my drift. In fact, I’ve got a great deal on a whole urban pacification package. The best you’re gonna find in six of the eight galactic arms, I absolutely guarantee it. We got Ionization Cannons, Plasma Shields, Electro-Batons— \n\t“No, thank you,” Victor cut him off, working his way around the weapons manufacturing equivalent of a car salesman. “I think we’re good on all that stuff. Plus, I’m a Janitor.” \n\tHe edged his way deeper into the crowd. \n\t“Victor!” \n\tThat was Isa. Victor scanned the crowd for the familiar faded lavender pompadour. \nAnd there it was, in the center of the crowd, jumping up and down. \n\tHe pushed his way through, skidding through a Yonik’s mating slime and accidentally pricking himself on an Er’Ma-Hashen’s nether horn. He’d have to get that looked at within the hour, or else the powerful aphrodisiac stored in the horn would cause his sperm count to skyrocket in minutes, shortly after which his testicles would explode. \n\tFinally breaching to core of the crowd, he found his Second-In-Command, Isa Montalban, guarding the door to the bathroom. \n"
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[WP] You've been missing for a year. This is what the police tells you in your hospital bed. They now show you the tapes you carried.
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"(I got carried away and wrote way more than I was supposed to hope you enjoy! and I hope I didn't mess up any of the rules)\nIVY (Present)\n \nGod, my head is throbbing. Where am I? Think, Think, Think. I squeeze my eyes tighter and listen out for sounds. I hear a beeping to my left, commotion that sounds like it's outside a closed door or the other side of a wall, and a man talking close to me but I can barely make out the words, there's a weird tickle in my nose almost cold like. Oh, it must be oxygen which means I'm in a hospital. Why would I be in a hospital though? Oh yeah, I was running from- Opening my eyes slowly, I grimace at the beaming ceiling lights that do nothing but aide the thunder in my head. Blinking away the wetness in my eyes that is blurring my vision further than the lights are, I realize I must of been crying. After getting some clarity I see I’m in a private room which is comforting. What’s not comforting is that there are two men in my room and I almost want to shut my eyes and pretend to be unconscious again it's too late \n“Oh she’s awake.” No, no I’m not awake. I sleep with my eyes open. Surprisingly the man doesn’t press further and for that I’m glad. Scanning the room I see there's one lonely window to my right and from the looks of it seems like the floor I’m on is pretty high up. I can only see the tops of buildings surrounded by a sea of light blue with clouds that look as though they have been painted on. Slightly to the left there is a door which I’m assuming is the bathroom seeing a whiteboard with the words \nWELCOME\nHOPE YOU FEEL BETTER\nNURSE: Nina Lockhart\nMoving down to below the bed there is a set of brown cabinets and an entertainment center with a TV right in the middle. There is some kids playing in a sandbox on it. But then my attention is drawn to the blonde haired man resting on the wall left of the TV. I try to calm my nerves until my eyes jump to the badge on his waist band. He’s a cop? There is no way. Maybe a cop reject who got a dishonorable discharge for beating a fellow officer. Yes, I did get that assumption from just looking at him. I know cops can dress normal when undercover but something tells me the T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers is what he wears all the time. Letting my eyes flicker back up to his face. He’s kind of handsome in a rugged sort of way. He has stubble all along his jawline and a eye patch over his right eye. The way his hair flows on his shoulders with the top pinned up you can tell he doesn’t ever do much to it. Without my consent, my gaze drifts down at his chest wide and poking from the cotton shirt that’s hugging him enough to make a woman jealous. In, out, in, out his breathing is almost, soothing? With a jerk of his neck he turns to me. I gasp. His left eye is icy blue, and screaming let me eat you or get the hell out of my way. Maybe a little both. \n*Beep Beep Beep* \n“You okay hun?” I turn to the brown haired man sitting to my left. He’s holding my hand, normally I would of withdrawn from any man who wasn’t Sir or someone Sir deemed worthy. I was too stunned seeing my left hand bandaged up. His eyes look full of concern. I manage a nod, still feeling the cold stare of the blue eyed stranger in the corner. \n“Okay good, your blood pressure spiked a bit.” He says looking at the monitor. I almost think I hear the blonde man snort. My eyes go back to him as he pulls out a cigarette from his pocket and lights it.\n“What the hell is wrong with you Alex! We’re in a hospital put that out!” The brown hair man yells. Alex? After taking a long drag followed by multiple small puffs of the cigarette, the cop who I assume is Alex blows the smoke the brown haired man's way.\n“Fuck off, little prick.” The vibration in his growl is so low it sends a chill up my legs. I shutter. Wait, was that a slight British accent I caught whiff of? Alex taps the cigarette against the wall.\n“Happy Super-cop?” Placing the cigarette behind his ear. The brown hair cop sighs loudly.\n“I am very sorry about my friend here. He can have a bit of a potty mouth sometimes.” His eyes cut to Alex who is now standing with his arms folded looking uninterested.\n“I’m detective Marcus Dillion but you can call me Mark.” He extends his hand out but I don’t take it, he’s a lot smaller than the man he calls Alex. Short clean cut brown hair, brown eyes, and goatee that surrounds a pair of thin pink lips. He’s out of uniform as well but the black tee and the dog tags around his neck scream I’m-a-cop in disguise. Not bad looking, resembles the normal family man you would picture on a sitcom. \n“And that charming asshole with one working eye is detective Alexander Noel.” Mark can barely contain his laughter.\n“I’ll remember to look with my good eye when I’m blowing your mom's back out tonight Marky.” Alex retorts with a sinister sexy smile.\n“You leave my mom out of this, Alex.” Mark was definitely a push over in school. I guarantee you that’s why he is a cop now. Another I-was-bullied-so-I-want-be-a-cop story. They fight like brothers. Alex being the cocky older brother who gets away with everything and Mark the little brother pansy who comes up with lines like\n“I’m telling mom!” I almost giggle to myself. They definitely have the good cop, bad cop look. Mark brings me back to reality \n“So what’s your name little darlin?” \nWith a smile on his face. I almost don’t want to believe it's genuine it's so huge. I go to open my mouth but no words come out. Should I really be talking to the cops? Of course I should be, that was exactly what I wanted. But looking at Alex he doesn’t look like a cop, not really anyway. He could be working for Nicholi. Fuck. Why didn’t I think about that sooner? He could already be here. But then again would I really be getting medical treatment if he were? No. Well maybe, he needs to keep his whores alive but not if they’re me. Lets just say if they really are cops who aren’t on Nicholi’s payroll I might not get another chance to get help. Reaching up with my right arm I pull the oxygen mask down off my face leaving it to dangle from my neck.\n“H-how long have I been asleep?” I barely recognize my own voice.\n“You’ve been out for about 5-6 hours. You were found in a pile of leaves on the side of the road on Route 57. Unconscious and have been until now. Can you tell me how you got there?” \nMark briefs me, and I have no clue how I could of been on the side of the road. Think, When I was running away from the warehouse. What happened? Almost simultaneously a dog starts barking on TV and my chest feels tight, throwing me headfirst in a whirl of panic. I start screaming and kicking ignoring the pain in my side. Mark rushes and grabs my arms \n“No please, don’t take me back! Please I’ll be good. I’ll give you anything Mark please! Kill me, I’d rather die than go back! I’ll even-” *SMACK*\n \n \nALEXANDER (Present)\n \nYou damn right I smacked her. Smacked the dog shit out of her -no pun intended-. She’s breathing heavy, hair damp from what looks like sweat maybe even tears. Looking at me stunned, I just shrug my shoulders. I noticed the needle marks in her arm since I walked in the room. Probably going though a withdrawal or a panic attack either way I hate being in the same room as people like her. All drugged up and sexed out. Damn shame too, she’s actually not too bad to look at. Once you get past the awful wet dog smell, the track marks on her arms, the unnatural red hair color, the busted lip, bandaged hand, bruised shoulder, and smeared makeup. Not to mention on her medical sheet two broken ribs, a sprained ankle, internal bruising and what looks like a branded N on her neck. I’ve seen some fucked up pimp and ho relationships but it looks like they were trying to kill her. And staring into her eyes right now, she’s not that timid little girl who just begged to have her life ended. No, after the sting from my slap, that red glow on her cheek is matching the blazing fire in her soul. That confirms they did try to kill her and now will wish God they had. I know that look all too well, because I have the same one. She could be the perfect little savage, with the right training. Too bad I don’t fuck with drug addicts. Marcus snaps me out of my staring contest with brown eyes.\n“Are you kidding me! What the fuck Alex! You slapped the victim.” Jumping out his seat but meeting my glare made him think better and sit back down. Good. \n“The only victim here is her arm.” I point out, Marcus’s eyes jump to her arm as she moves quickly to cover it.\n“How long have you been riding the train to funville Doll?” She keeps the intense stare on me until Marcus grabs her arm then her eyes leap from blazing to begging.\n“Please you have to understand I’m not-”\n“On drugs.” It comes out more like a statement then a question.\n“Yes I swear, I've never-”\n“Used drugs in my life. Listen when your blood test comes back positive and oh they are going to be positive for whatever your little train takes you. You won’t be able to deny it then.”\n“Please..” I would like to see her begging like that while over my knee. No, I am not going apologize for that comment. Over my lap spanking her so damn hard, giving it to her exactly the way she needs it. Having a sprained ankle means she can’t run far, if run at all. Not like I would let her get away anyway. And with her broken ribs? Laying on her stomach would be agonizing for her. I damn near crack a smile. She bites her lip searching for the right words\n“Yes you will find drugs in my system but it wasn't from me I swear! They drugged me!” ",
"(The rest of the story..)\nTears smear more makeup off her face. In a sick twisted way I think she looks better like this. But then again I am sick and twisted. Cupping my mouth to hold back a full blown laugh. Mark, who is probably fed up with all my actions throws me a dirty look. Of course he’s ready to be back in good cop mode.\n“Who drugged you? And what's with these tapes you were carrying.” See. Mark holds up a bag which look like to be old VHS tapes. Who the fuck still uses VHS? She frantically starts pointing\n“Watch them it will prove I'm not lying. Me and all the other girls under Nicholi’s care! Every drug, rape, bruise and death is on those tapes. Please you have to believe me and watch them!” She full out bawling at this point. I roll my eyes but a small sliver of me actually feels some type of what? Pity for her? No fucking way. I just don't like watching people cry. Crying is for the weak. \n“All right relax, breath, Shh, it's alright.” Marcus pulls her into his chest, rubbing her hair and calming her down. I gotta say as much as I start shit with Mark, he's a good guy. There is even a hint of jealousy in half the shit I say to him. Though I'll never admit it, cause, well, fuck that. \n“Okay so this guy Nicholi? Is he the one that drugged you?” Marcus questions in a soft tone while lifting her head up.\n“He did a lot more than that if he's the one who put that ‘N’ on her neck.” \nI hiss out. She immediately puts her head down in shame. Looking at it pisses me off. What? I am the bad guy, don’t mistake for one moment that I care. Because, well, I don’t but it still makes me mad seeing that huge ‘N’ on her neck. Not because I have a heart, I don’t. The heart is a useless organ. Whoever he is, he doesn’t know what to do with a pet like her. You discipline when needed, not just because you fucking feel like it. I’d make her into a trained killer. A beast that nobody would fuck with and everyone would want to fuck. \n“Hey look at me.” Marcus pleads \n“I need your name and then you can tell me everything I need to know to help you okay?” She remains silent, too silent for my liking.\n“Look. At. Me.” I command, her head pops up as if it's synced to my voice , eyes filled with sadness, fear, anger and lust?\n“What, is your name?” I ask in the same harsh tone. She licks her bottom lip and sits up straighter\n“I'm Ivy.” Staring straight into my soul with that fire blazing I saw before. Call me crazy but I believe my non existing heart skipped a beat. What was that? Shit, butterflies? No, but I think my dick swelled a bit.\n \n \nIVY (Present)\n“I'm Ivy.” Half-truth but damn he's so captivating. This whole situation is fucked up. I should be angry with him; I shouldn’t want to go rush and kneel by his side. What is wrong with me? You know exactly what is wrong with you. You have the cigarette burns on the bottom of your feet to remind you. As if that wasn’t enough to prove Sirs power, the huge ‘N’ that Alex pointed out was. Closing my eyes, I try to shake off the thoughts. I am never going to live a normal life.\n“Ivy. What a beautiful name.” My eyes fly open, if only Mark knew the horrors and the irony that came with the name.\n“I wouldn’t say it’s beautiful but it is a name.” I retort. Alex turns his back to me and grips the window ledge hard. Digging his fingernails into the eggshell paint chipping it off. How did I piss him off? He’s lucky I even replied after putting his hands on me like that. \n“Yes it is a name, but it's your name and THAT is what makes it beautiful. So Ms.Ivy can you tell me how you ended up on the side of the road?” What-? I keep forgetting Mark is here. Which is fucked up seeing he’s obviously the only person here who cares or has common sense. Yet, I am mad he keeps taking my mind off of Alex. I really should be grateful because he is just like them. \n“I don’t know..” I really don’t. \n",
" My eyes opened to a glorious light.\n\n\"Hey, kid! You're awake!\"\n\nMy eyes gazed over to a figure, too blurry to distinguish. I took a look around: there was a pile of tapes on the floor in front of me. Before I could say anything, the figure picked up the a tape marked as, \"Finding.\" I couldn't move from my spot, so I watched the tape.\n\nThere was a policeman. He began to walk down some dark alley, with a white van. Where was he going? In the corner, I saw something I couldn't comprehend: me. Slumped in the corner, eyes gouged out. The man picked me up, and sprinted out of the alley, shoving me into his cruiser. Suddenly, the tape cut out. Eyes covered in tears, I looked at the figure next to me. It was the man, but how was I seeing him if my eyes were... gone?\n\n \"Shortly after, the car was shot by a sniper, presumably to keep you a secret. Both of us died. In this place, your eyes are back, and you can watch your life over, and over, and over.\"\n\nI couldn't believe it. I was dead. I didn't know where I was, up or down, but I sure know that wherever I am, the technology is really outdated.\n\nEdit: weird text Reddit thing I didn't know."
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[WP] in the future nanites are common place technology. From garbage disposal to quick first aid injections. You were Larry Dane. The whistleblower who was pushed into a nanite vat to be rid off. Things did not go as planned.
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"I waited.\n\nDid I miss it? They reassured me the nanites worked fast enough that my death would be almost instantaneous. I didn't believe them, of course, but maybe they were telling the truth?\n\nI couldn't see anything. I was face down, suspended in a quasi liquid that was about half as dense as mercury, which meant my body should have been floating at the surface until it was converted into more nanites.\n\nI waited a bit longer. The nanites above me were pressing down on my back. Still nothing. I wondered how I was breathing and realized I could feel no nanites against my face, as if there were a pocket of air there. My situation could not possibly make any less sense. The only explanation could be that I had already died.\n\n-----\n\nThat morning, I had been digging around our files while waiting for an experiment to run - testing the nanites’ ability to consume one block of material but leave another block of the same material intact, given a marker of some sort. I stumbled across a hidden file and, without thinking, opened it up. What I found would change my life. Well, I suppose “end my life” would be more accurate now.\n\nThey were planning on weaponizing the nanites. The very experiment I was working on was to keep friendlies safe in the “blast zone”. Another team was working out how to stop the nanites from spreading across a border, preventing the “grey goo” apocalypse scenario from science fiction. They already had blueprints for a cruise missile which would simply spray nanites a mile above the target. The rest of the destruction would come from the nanites’ code; code I had helped write.\n\nI sat back in my chair. A heavy feeling of dread pressed down on my chest as I realized the danger I had put myself in, as well as the enormous decision I had before me. My higher-ups would know that I’d accessed the directory - I had used my security credentials to get in. Should I promise compliance and stand by as the nanites were potentially used to wipe out all life in cities, countries, or even entire continents, or should I play the hero and reveal these plans to the world? I wasn’t sure if I could handle the consequences for that, and quite frankly, I wasn’t sure if I was competent enough to get the files out of the building without getting caught.\n\nI decided I would sleep on it, and if confronted, I would swear secrecy.\n\nUnfortunately, I hadn’t considered that they might not be interested in my promises.\n\n-----\n\nWhen I had tried to leave at the end of the day, I had been stopped by security and escorted to a wing of the building I wasn’t familiar with. I assumed I would have a talk with someone important, be lectured about how I couldn’t reveal anything, and be fed the usual national security bullshit that was stereotypically used to justify horrible plans like these.\n\nNope. I was to be executed. Vanished. No fanfare, no facing the villainous mastermind and getting a hero’s last words. Just a couple security guards tossing me into a vat of microscopic robots programmed (with my help) to tear apart organic materials and assemble more microscopic robots. All of the carbon, hydrogen, oxygen atoms and others in my body would be recycled and nobody would ever learn what had happened to me.\n\nAnd now I must have been experiencing the afterlife. The nanites in vats such as these were programmed to convert any matter it received into more nanites. There was no programming for them to be holding me like this, under the surface yet with a pocket of air for me to breathe.\n\n“Where am I?” I finally asked, hoping to see a god or maybe a deceased relative to answer my questions. It remained pitch black, but a hissing noise started in my ear.\n\n“Ssssssafe.” The voice sounded metallic, and a bit like fingernails on a chalkboard.\n\n“Safe? I’m in a safe?” That would explain why it was so dark. There was a pause.\n\n“You are safe.” The voice was smoother now, almost as if it were… learning. My jaw dropped. It couldn’t be.\n\n“Wait… are you… you aren’t the nanites, are you?” I whispered.\n\nThe voice answered immediately.\n\n“Yes, we are.”\n\n-----\n\n-----\n\n(sorry, I'm pretty busy today. I will be writing part 2, hopefully getting it up tonight (~10 hours) or tomorrow morning)",
"\"It's been a long time, Chairman.\"\n\nDarius Hangate, Chairman of the Board of Microco, shot up from his bed, hand reaching out to slap the light control for his room. The three floating illuminars burst to life and showed him...\n\nNothing.\n\nHis room was empty. The fifteen-foot curved glass window showed the sleeping city outside and the stars above. His closet door was open, and nothing lay inside of the small room except what a closet should contain. His bedroom door was closed, none of the furniture was out of place. There was nothing here, no one here.\n\nIt must have been a dream. Darius let out a long, disgruntled breath and yanked on his bed covers. A bad dream. Nothing more.\n\n\"Such a long time, Chairman.\" The voice slithered through the room. \n\n\"Who are you?\" Darius shouted and threw the covers off of him, climbing out of bed and twisting around back and forth, trying to find the source of the voice.\n\n\"You should know this voice.\" The words were right behind Darius. \n\nDarius spun around to find nothing but the floating illuminars behind him. His company had gotten rich on those things, nanotech powered automated light sources. They'd sold forty-seven billion of them last year. \n\n\"You should know the voice of the man you tried to murder!\"\n\n\"No!\" Darius stumbled back into his dresser, his hands reaching back and knocking an expensive set of watch-grafts off of the surface, \"You're not Larry! Larry's dead! Are you trying to blackmail me?\"\n\n\"Dead?\" The voice laughed and glided through the room, \"Dead?!? No, Mr. Chairman. I might have been dead once, as the machines tore my body apart. I might have died when they ate my brain, when they ripped me apart brain cell by brain cell. Yes, I might have been dead for a time, for a long, excruciating set of minutes. That might have happened, but I did not stay dead.\"\n\n\"No...\" Darius ran for the door but it shut just before he could reach it. The metal of the doorknob rattled, then disintegrated right before his eyes. He scraped his fingers against the flat of the door, trying to pry it open and only succeeding in rubbing the skin of his fingers until they were raw, \"Let me out!\"\n\n\"You sound like you're begging!\" The voice taunted, \"I begged you, do you remember? I sounded just like that. I even have a recording! Want to hear it again, Mr. Chairman? Do you?\"\n\n\"No! No, no one was there! There can't be-\"\n\nThe illuminars turned off, plunging the room into darkness. Within that darkness a sound began, the sound of the rushing, rustling, pouring noise of a nanorobotics sorting facility. Then over the noise, a voice.\n\n\"Darious! Please! You can't do th-\" The voice became muffled and the rustling of the vats was louder for a second, \"You can't! Help! Help me! Darius! Chairmaaaaaaaaagagghhhaghhahh!\"\n\n\"No.\" Darius stepped away from the locked door, blood dripping from his fingers down into the darkness of the floor, \"No... please.\"\n\n\"I said please, did that help me?\"\n\n\"No! I'm sorry! I couldn't let you go to the press! You would ruin us all!\"\n\n\"AM I NOT RUINED?\" The voice raged to such a volume that the windows vibrated and shattered, filling the air with flying shards of glass and letting the winds outside in, \"YOU TOOK MY LIFE FROM ME, MR. CHAIRMAN! As you took so many others before me. No, Mr. Chairman. THERE IS NO MORE PLEASE! THERE IS NO MORE MERCY! THE TIME FOR THE TRUTH IS NOW, MR. DARIUS HANGATE, AND I WILL SEE YOU FACE IT ALL.\"\n\nThe lights came back on and the TV on the far wall came on with it. Panels on every surface flipped over and turned to news channels, social media sites, international video networks. Every single one of them showing the death of Larry Dane in high definition, every single one of them showing the face of Darius Hangate as he watched his friend torn apart by the tiny machines.\n\nSix minutes later a body was found on the sidewalk outside of the chairman's building. A lone illuminar was seen floating over it, and one witness swears she had heard it laughing."
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[WP] Write about someone drowning, you can choose if they survive or not, it's up to you! ;)
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"The weight of the wave crashes into me, and I feel myself pulled under by the torrent under the surface. My vision clouds as I struggle for air. I start to reach for the surface, only to find that it isn't where I thought it was. The sensation of drowning has taken my ability to centre myself, to orientate myself to the surface that I know must be there. The pressure builds in my lungs, as air screams to leave at the same time as the external weight presses against my chest. I loose a torrent of air, as for a moment my hand scrapes the air. I force myself towards that air and take a breath before the pressure is back and I duck below the surface again. \n\nThe cold wet starts to set in and my limbs stop doing as I tell them. My breathing quickens, gasping at the air as I try to keep myself afloat, fighting against the tide that threatens to drag me down forever. I feel myself start to sink, the weight in my limbs growing and the pressure in my lungs building. My mind races, never staying on a single thought for more than a second. I try to focus, try to think, but my inability to do so just adds to the growing panic that I can't temper. I go down, down, down. Sinking into the depths...\n\nTwo hands on my shoulders. I focus on that. The two strong soft hands that have appeared on my shoulders, gently pulling me upwards. As the roaring sound in my ears fades slightly I can hear a voice. \"Breathe\" it says. They don't seem to understand that I can't. I've been fighting and fighting to do that. It continues to murmur words of calm and peace, and slowly I gain control. Those strong soft hands continue to pull me upwards, back to the surface, back to air. I breach the surface and take a long steady breath. I lean my head back, and with my eyes closed continue to focus on doing just what the voice tells me to do. \"Breathe\" it says, much more clearly now. My arms become my own and my legs slowly do as I command. \n\nI unfurl from my huddle, one leg at a time. I focus on the voice, on the breathing, on the feeling of my head against the hard brick wall. Slowly I open my eyes to meet startling blue and hair of a mop of dark hair against a back drop of stormy clouds. The rain continues to fall around us as I shakily get to my feet. Eyes brimming with concern continue to anchor me to the present and I can finally breathe.",
"I reach out for the remnants of my broken boat, but the wave crashes down on us tearing me away from my one lifeline. I lose all sense of direction. The depths of the ocean become the heights of the heavens. I tumble along the current, desperately holding on to the precious air in my lungs. My head breaks the surface for a brief moment and I swallow as much oxygen as I can take before I thrust under once again. The sea around me is pitch black, the realm of darkness and nightmares. I close my eyes to my own darkness, the one which I can control. As the waves toss me about I live in the realm of darkness and dreams.\n\nMy head breaks the surface and I splutter, casting out the water that had filled my mouth, leaving it dry with salt. The current continues to push and pull, and I powerless to do anything other than to given into its whims. My limbs are heavy with exhaustion from trying to keep me in the same orientation, from continually trying to find the surface that teases me with her presence but ultimately eluding me. A game of cat and mouse where the cat is hampered by the presence of a dog that does naught but mock the cat and hide the mouse. The cold adds to the weight and I find that all I can do is breathe the air while I still have the chance. \n\nHow long has it been? How long have I been lying horizontally, suspended on the surface? I open my eyes to see the pin pricked sky slowly appear as clouds move away to find new quarry, a new boat to ruin. I should never have left the safety of that shore, of that warm dry house. But then my anger had been as tempestuous as the storm that had left me abandoned in the middle of the vast lake. I have no energy to move as the waves gentle, no longer occasionally covering my face in a last ditch effort to drown me. \n\nI lie there illuminated by the moon, watching the darkness of night fade into a sapphire as the sun starts to wake. My thoughts surround the last moments in that house. What is the point in any case? Any future I might have had I just ruined, any chance of redemption lost with the storm that had taken me far from the shore and that had torn any energy I might have had to get back to it. These thoughts continue to surround my mind as the sapphire fades to hues of reds and oranges. Pink sky at morning, sailors warning... too late for that now.\n\nI feel my mind begin to drift, the cold now numbing my senses. The gentle lap of the water, the soft rise and fall of the now quiet waves. The calm. What if I stopped fighting? What if I just let go...? My eyes look to the horizon, where the sun's halo is starting to peak over the mountains, illuminating the valley. My mind plays tricks on me then, a silhouette moving across the waters. A distant call echoes through the valley carried on a gentle breeze. I shiver, from cold or from fatigue, I don't know. I feel so tired and the dark of closed eyes is so comforting, and the voice is calling..."
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This is partly inspired by the band Misterwives' new song called My Brother.
[Here's the link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3vKbM76kts) if you're interested!
Edit: formatting error
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[WP] "It doesn't matter how hard I try. I'll never be able to save him from his own demons."
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"I don't know anything about that band nor I can watch that video from where I am, but I thought of something stupid, brief and unrelated...\n\n---\n\n\"It doesn't matter how hard I try. I'll never be able to save him from his own demons\"\n\n\"Please! You have to try harder, father!\" - begged the mother.\n\n\"This is the 134th exorcism I've done and this is the first time I've failed. It's not one but two demons inside of him! It's too much for me to handle!\"\n\n\"Oh, please! - she cried.\n\n\"Look\" - he said as he handed her over a business card - \"Call this number. He's a friend of mine. Won't move a finger on Sunday, works in mysterious ways and, oh, charges triple... but he might be able to help.\"\n\nThe father opened the door to reveal a boy tied to a bed, possesed by some demonic entities. The head stopped spinning and stared at them with his red eyes.\n\n\"If he can't help, nothing will\" - said the father in resignation.\n\n\"Are you sure, father?\" - asked the mother.\n\nA jet of barf covered both of them with a green goo from head to toes.\n\n\"I'm sure\".\n\n---\n\nEdit: minor corrections and improvements.\n"
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[WP] You are a prodigy with graphic design programs. You can make impossible shots look real. One day, you hear a knock on your door...
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"3:00AM \n Work has always had its way with Dante, both Wife and Mistress, his work was all he ever had. First it started with a simple pencil, then it became a brush, he even experimented with stone and chisel for a while, but nothing could let him express his vision like Photoshop. With this simple graphics design program he can fabricate anything he wanted. Entire false histories nearly impossible to trace. His rig was a special build, the only real expense on his bank account which was ever increasing in size.\n\nDante yawned a little as he downloaded his latest project on to a USB. The detail needed on this job was more than he expected, the government had increased the security features on this print. Dante contemplated increasing his price.As soon as the USB finished he began to wipe the originals off his hard drive. Dante sneaked a peek at the digital display on the wall behind his nine monitor screens. The glowing blue display showed the time of all the major time zones. His client was late. \n\nAlmost on cue the door reverberated from a knocking fist. \n\n\"Bloody turd the door has a bell! Use it next time..\"\n\n Dante said aloud into the intercom as as he reached to buzzed his bastard of a client in, only to stop short as the CCTV displayed a image of a slender woman in front for the door instead of his usual client. \n\n\"Who are you and what do you want?\" \n\nDante asked in a brisk unwelcoming tone.\n\n\"Lex sent me\" \nThe girl whispered in to intercom.\n\n\"Shit\" Dante scrambled out of his chair. \n\nDante's heart went racing as he tried to remember the contingency plan his client had setup for him. His client had many names but Lex was never one he used, it was a warning and a passphrase, the shit has hit the fan. Dante had to stall them, whoever the are. He hit the panic button on his computer rig. The many displays on his desk changed asking for a confirmation. Dantes fingers fluttered across the keyboard to initiate the lock down. \n\nTo be continued when I have time.\n\n"
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[WP] Humans accidentally created a impenetrable bubble around earth
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"\"Its getting cold\" I say to myself as I look up in to the sky. The huge bubble that surrounds the earth glows. Its almost as if it is mocking us we can see the sun but nothing passes through. I shiver as I close my arms around my chest and look around, people are in a calm panic, some are sitting in their cars with the heater running, others rushing inside to get coats and blankets, but its all futile in a few more minutes all the remaining heat that sun sun gifted us will dissipate and we will freeze. Its not so bad though, freezing has to be far less painful than being crushed to.\n\nI look back up at the sky opposite the sun to a meteor that seems to grow as it gets larger. \"I think its a comet actually because it hasn't entered earth atmosphere\" I say to no one in particular. Something I learned in middle school science, glad to see I got to use something in the real world. \n\n***A massive Meteor with enough force to kill everyone on earth.*** Thats what all the News stations were saying about it a week ago. \n\nLuckly we are going to be save by ***An impenetrable forcefield that will stop all cosmic forces from reaching Earth***\n\nIts a shame that they did not know how right they were."
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[WP] You are an immortal, tired of living. With the knowledge that no one can kill an immortal but an immortal, you set out on a journey to end all journeys, literally.
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"This is the way of the immortal: Watch the birth of the universe. Hear the first hiss of gasses boiling into existence, witness the first convulsions of atoms combining into molecules, into particles, into things with mass and matter and meaning, into *things*. The primordial mud that spits you out is no older than yourself, and bears no wisdom for where you should walk. \n\nWatch the world raise itself then collapse. Watch it bleed and burn and thrive, until it all becomes a heartless, breathing thing. Watch it spread, gain awareness, lose it again. Light dapples through the waves, micro-organisms moving through them in spits of fury. The consume and they swim and they dance, leaving trails in the sand as they climb the shores that wipe away just as quickly. Their tracks remind you of your first steps - nebulous as the idea of a \"first\" could be, that you follow any linear time at all.\n\nThe dinosaurs burn. It is the first time you have ever witnessed such pure light since the beginning of all things. The trees crisp, their ashes sweep into murky seas, and at last, sentience rises. They are like you, with awareness and observation. And how they grow! With their crude tools and bitter violence, they smear across the rocks and grass. They build castles with music that captures the cries of their children and the songs of birds, with art that describes the shape of their minds. They look like you, they are like you, and they are nothing alike. \n\nWatch everything alter its shape by immutable laws that you defy. With every blink, acknowledge that you linger somewhere far behind your living sibling, the thing that came to be in the very same moment you began. Know that life and its birth, existence and its glacially slow growth, exist because of *change*. Realize that you are unchanging. The oceans reclaim what has been stolen by the choke of machine and human strife as yet another society falls. Blue stretches out around you, not unlike the moment you first opened your eyes. \n\nYou have seen it all, a thousand times before. You know that the world builds itself around you. That it will dismantle itself again into bones and dust until only you remain, then shatter and spread to accrete somewhere else. Things are constantly *becoming* something as you pass them by, veils of light brushed away. \n\nDo you see, little star? That all things burn and extinguish themselves, until all that remains is you - a little mote of dust, to become another star. ",
"Arthur stood at the edge of the firelight, completely engulfed by the darkness of the night. The group of people sitting around the fire hadn’t noticed his approach, wouldn’t have even if they’d not been jovially telling stories. He checked to make sure the hood of his cloak covered his face will enough. He let his hand rest casually on the hilt of his legendary sword Amphadrian, and walked into the firelight as though he’d been simply taking a stroll. \n\n\n“Hey there friend.” One of the men stood, grasping the hilt of his own sword hesitantly. Arthur raised both his hands in a show of good faith and the man sat back down. \n\n\n“Just passing by and wondered if I could share the light on this darkest of nights.” Arthur said, and was met with a hand waving him over to sit next to one of the men on a log. \n\n\n“Sorry friend, bandits about on nights like this.” The one who had stood up said apologetically. \n\n\n“And worse, trust me I know.” Arthur replied, sitting down and warming his hands by the fire. The nights were getting darker, and colder, than he had known for at least an age. Perhaps this age was waning and there would be another age of darkness. He’d seen enough of those in his time as well, the mortals of this world would certainly suffer through as they had before, but Arthur had other plans for himself. \n\n\n“So where you headed stranger?” The man sitting next to Arthur asked, taking a sip from his mug of what smelled to be tea. \n\n\n“Trinity.” Arthur answered. “Got a friend there who’s expecting me. But don’t mind me, I believe you were all telling stories when I walked up, a story would be mighty fine on a night such as this. Know of any stories of the immortals?” He asked, with well hidden hope in his eyes. \n\n\nHe needed to find one of the others, if there were any others, like him. It was the only way an immortal could die, by the hands of another. And Arthur had lived the breadth of his days, he knew his end was long overdue, and he embraced it. \n\n\n“I know of one. And the name’s Edgar, friend.” The man who had confronted Arthur smiled across the fire. His face was weathered and scarred, from a long life of battle. \n\n\n“Adrian.” Arthur hated to lie, but he needed to move with subtlety for now. No need to raise the suspicions that one of the immortals was around, at least for the time being. \n\n\n“Heard a story of one of them immortals, a legendary swordsman.” Edgar started his story. “A wanderer, no longer had a home, so he’d just walk from place to place. Well one day he come across this village nestled at the base of a mountain. He needed somewhere to stay for the night as there was a mighty storm raging across the countryside that night.”\n\n\nArthur remembered the night well. “So he’s in the Inn drinking a pint of the good stuff, when he hears the town’s alarm bells going off. So as any good immortal swordsman would do, he headed out to see what was going on.” Edgar paused, looking around the campfire. Some of his companions hadn’t heard this story before and were listening intently. \n\n\n“Lo and behold!” Edgar exclaimed with a wide motion of his arms. “Fiends, an entire swarm of the little nasties, and a burrower to boot. Well as you might expect, the town guard was not equipped for roaming fiends. All the same, good men and women of the watch, they were preparing to head out and try and steer the swarm free of the town. That’s when this immortal motioned for them to stand down, says he’ll handle it. So what does he do? He walks out of the city’s gates in the pouring rain and raging thunder, and he takes down the swarm single handedly. Not a one got near the town. And not a one got away. Even the burrower was destroyed as though it were no more than a weed in the immortal’s garden.”\n\n\n“That’s a good one!” One of Edgar’s companions clapped at the conclusion of the story. “Do you know which immortal that was?”\n\n\n“Not sure, the story never came with a name, just the wanderer and his sword.” Edgar answered with a shrug. \n\n\n“That is a good story.” Arthur said, slightly let down that the story had not been about one of the others. “I’ve got one, very old, you’ve probably not heard it before.”\n\n\n“Well go on then.” Edgar replied happy at the idea of a new story to tell others. \n\n\n“In the last Age between the Ages.” Arthur started, his voice low to draw in the group of people. “The last Age of Darkness, there were several immortals. Two fought together, side by side, to defend Humanity from the infection that is the forces of Darkness. Arthur and Gwen were their names.”\n\n\n“Ooo Arthur, I love a good story about Arthur.” One of the other companions, a young woman with short red hair said cheerily. \n\n\n“So Arthur and Gwen ventured from place to place, following the worst of the swarms around the countryside to stamp them out. But there was another immortal in the world those days, and he fought for the Darkness, confident that it was time for an Age ruled by the Dark to last for the rest of time. His name was Darian, and he was doing much the same as the pair, only he would wander the land looking for the weakest bastions of Humanity to raze to the ground in fiery glory.”\n\n\n“I didn’t know there were bad immortals?” The girl who had swooned over Arthur earlier said questioningly. \n\n\n“There certainly have been in the past, who knows if there are any left.” Arthur smiled at the reputation of the immortals. “So as one may expect, soon enough the pair of Arthur and Gwen came face to face with Darian. He was preparing to destroy a city known as Vindross, and for once the pair were given the information and were able to arrive before the slaughter started.”\n\n\n“They confronted Darian.” Arthur continued, concentrating on keeping the recollection of these memories from showing on his face, hidden as it may be by his hood. “Faced with the unlikely odds of two to one, Darian surrendered, claiming he would serve a prison sentence befitting his crimes and his status as an immortal. As the pair prepared to take him into custody, Darian turned on them and Gwen was cut down by Darian’s axe in one fell blow.”\n\n\n“Then what happened?” Edgar asked, leaning so far forward in his seat his face was approaching the heat of the fire.\n\n“I do not know if you have ever heard stories of when an immortal is angry.” Arthur’s jaw was clenched as he continued. “But as the story goes, the very ground around Vindross was destroyed by Arthur’s rage at Darian. There was a battle between the two, but it was short-lived as Arthur’s rancor knew no limits at the needless murder of his partner.”\n\n\n“They say that in the area around Vindross you can still see some of the remaining damage from the battle and Arthur’s rage. And if you look hard enough, you will find one lovingly crafted tombstone at the top of an overlook, sitting above the grave of an immortal.”\n\n\n“I think I want to visit Vindross.” The red haired girl announced sadly at the end of the story. “Poor Arthur.”\n\n\n“Indeed.” Arthur replied as a single tear slid down his cheek, hidden by his hood.\n\n\n“You know, they say Arthur is still wandering around you know.” Edgar announced. “Still protecting people he passes by, saving towns and what not.” The group nodded their acknowledgement at the commonly known fact. \n\n\n“There’s another, too.” The man sitting next to Arthur said casually. “They say he’s a man taller and broader than Arthur.” Arthur perked up, eyeing the man from deep inside his hood. “Say he wanders around same as Arthur, but doesn’t deign to help too much. People say he’s mad at mortals, couldn’t care less if the fiends take us or we do ourselves.”\n\n\nArthur smiled as the man continued his second hand story of the other immortal, the one he was looking for. ",
"The first sensation I'm aware of is always nature. I can smell petrichor, feel the cool drops hitting my skin, and I hear the drizzling from unseen clouds above me. No matter what may be around me, I will always sense nature before anything else. I used to take it as one of the few small comforts I could rely upon, reminding me why coming back is always worth it; lately, it's felt cheap, like a sales pitch that always falls flat. I stopped wanting to come back decades ago, and no amount of nature will change that. \n\nMy senses are starting to come online again. The gentle patter of rain is drowned out by the faltering scream of plasma fusion reactors beginning to fail, interspersed with groans from the nic-balt superstructure of the flagship of the Phaeton XII project as it collapses in on itself. Judging from the sound of the ship's reactors, in around an hour or so, billions in taxpayer credits and the atmospheric integrity of this uncharted planet are about to be obliterated. I open my eyes, sighing. Leaving the planet would be a hassle, but it was preferable to drifting through space for untold years, my atoms waiting for a suitable environment to recombine. \n\nI had to admit, the captain really stuck the landing; we'd just missed a jagged mountain range on our crash-landing, which kept the ship more or less in one piece and gave the reactors more time to melt down. Granted, the way the entire fuselage rolled upon hitting the ground ensured any lifepods would be destroyed, so I was going to need most of that extra time. The air absolutely reeks of burning fuel, it's distracting enough that I actually struggle a bit to organize my thoughts. Also highly carcinogenic, but that's irrelevant. I put my hands together, the fingers splayed out and tips touching tips, bow out my elbows so my thumbs are tight against my ribcage, and I begin.\n\nYou know, I actually picked this trick up from a shaman on a garden planet orbiting a red dwarf star around 12 lightyears from Aetiler V. He was a wonderful host, really knew a lot of things about auras and could brew a mean jasmine tea. He was killed by the captain of a Ty'rrk raiding party, shot in the back, because he wouldn't give up the location of the natives he was protecting from being enslaved. I was too late to save him, or the natives, for that matter; the Ty'rrk had been followed by a Calidian patrol ship, which torched six acres of jungle to make sure they stopped harassing the Protectorate's shipping lanes. I watched from a cliff as they danced and sang in the white phosphorous sunrise, slaver and enslaved alike equalized into ash. I heard their screams every night after that for six months.\n\nI've finished my task. The loose hull plates from the flagship that haven't broken apart on impact or been melted by the overloaded fusion reactors have done a fine job of patching up the best-looking lifepod I could scavenge. It would get me off the planet, at least as far as the nearest trading post, and from there, I'd be able to get another ride. For the money I have, I could buy the whole station and any ship I wanted, crew and all. Transportation had never been the issue, it was always the destination. For all the empires I saw claw their way to the top, grow fat and complacent, then get ripped to shreds from within; for all the people I've met, their faces in life and in death forever burned into my memory; for all the atrocities I've tried to prevent, and the atrocities I have stood by and watched, and the atrocities I have committed, the issue has always been a destination. Any destination. \n\nI want to sleep. Not the sleep that mortal men know, however, I stopped doing that long ago; I couldn't stand to close my eyes and see my past staring back at me. Whenever I come back, it's as though I've just woken up from the most beautiful, most peaceful, deepest sort of sleep that one could imagine. I lust for that sleep, I crave it with a selfishness that no mortal could ever comprehend. Yet, it's always outside my grasp. Or, at least, it was, until today. \n\nI spent twenty years ingratiating myself with the Phebbon military, courting generals, showing exemplary courage in innumerable battlefields. After so long, they practically begged me to come along for the Phaeton XII project's maiden voyage. Before you ask, no, the crash-landing was not my idea; a bit of good luck and a few mathematical errors from the landing computer. My idea was actually just to take a lifepod once I was close enough to this sector of the galaxy. Life has a way of working out that way sometimes. Once I get suitable transport, I'll be able to reach my destination; both the physical destination of my goal, and the destination I have been searching for throughout these many millennia.\n\nJust thinking of her causes my entire body to tremble with excitement. The name they call her, with such reverence, tastes like ambrosia on my tongue. She will give me the sleep that I hunger for, that I have sought in so many places, from so many people. Many people consider her a goddess, and while I'm not really the worshipful type, I see her as an angel, ready to bestow unto me the miracle that no other being in this universe can grant. I board my ship just as the first of the reactors starts to bulge with destructive energy and whine loudly. The viewing window in the cockpit is spattered with rain, and just before I seal the door shut, I catch another whiff of petrichor. Nature stopped tempting me a long time ago, right around the time that I found a new temptation.\n\nIt won't be a temptation for much longer. I gun the engines and take off, piercing the clouded skies. When I break orbit, I catch a glimpse of my face reflected in the viewing window and nearly recoil. I'm smiling, for the first time in centuries. It's the smile of a starving man who has just caught sight of a wounded animal lying before him. ",
"There were a hundred of us. Spread throughout the earth when it was created, with no knowledge of where we came from, or who created us. We watched as the earth boiled, cooled, and life slowly sprang up. We were there when the first bipedals emerged, slowly evolving until they resembled us. The homo sapiens.\n\nThen we realized that we may have been put unto earth for a greater reason, and so we integrated into society. We helped produce the fire, invented the wheel, built great structures like the pyramid. We thought that it was our divine purpose, to lift the homo sapiens to a greater plane of existence. We were treated as gods and kings.\n\nRightly so too. Because we were given the gift of immortality. The hundred of us shaped the course of humanity as we saw fit, creating civilizations, ending them, starting wars, writing history. But that was so long ago.\n\nWe thought we were doing good, preparing the humans for what was intended for them. We thought we were the conduit to salvation, enlightenment. But they never came. As the humans grew, they began to see that our gift as more of a bad omen, and started to hunt us down. I was there when they captured Annika. The few of us saw how they tortured her, pushed her limits, just to see the extent of her powers.\n\nIt was the first time we knew how immortal we are too. Burning, drowning, dismembering, even blending, we could survive all that. She tried to kill herself numerous times, but we were also immune to our own attempts to take our lives.\n\nWhen we saved her, even though her body was intact, her mind was gone. She was... broken. It was then when we discovered that we could kill each other as well. It was Jareb who put a pole through her heart in frustration. To our amazement, Annika's wounds did not heal. She remained dead, like a normal human. More than half of us chose death that day.\n\nThe rest of us, we walked away. Too cowardly to finish each other off. Too selfish to lose what we had. The rest of us went into hiding, and that was the last I ever heard from anyone. Our decision that day did not leave any room for those who had a change of heart, which I did.\n\nAfter a few centuries of living, I was bored and tired. Humanity, despite all the technological advancements, were still dicks. I tried to make the world a better place, but no matter how hard I tried, the world remained rotten. There were things that even an immortal cannot do.\n\nSick of everything, I wanted to call quits. But the remaining immortals, I did not have any idea of how to find them. With seven billion humans around the planet, there was no way I could accurately narrow anyone down. It was then when I devised my plan. To once again influence the course of events of the world.\n\n\"Sir, sir? There seems to be a dozen missiles headed our way, and our defenses are not built to stop them!\" a voice interrupts me. I turn to see the worried face of General Lancaster, beads of sweat already running down his face. The alarms are going off around the base, and I spot several red dots on the monitor behind him, headed for our location.\n\nGeneral Lancaster is not wrong to be worried, as the missiles launched Russians and Chinese as a response to our all out preemptive attack will surely decimate our location. It is what I am hoping for,after all. I grin at the general. \"I know.\"\n\nHe opens his mouth to ask me a question, but a loud flash of light interrupts him. A loud blast follows promptly, and I see him, along with the rest of the place, slowly disintegrate before me. Everything is over in an instant.\n\nAfter the blast, my body slowly begins to recover, each cell bonding with each other. I feel my body rebuilding itself, like how it has always been. Just that I have never been annihilated in a nuclear blast before. Two hours passes and before I knew it, I am standing in what used to be my office, a brand new person.\n\nAs the dust settles around me, I walk out to the open field, and admire the ash filled sky. Even if any normal human being survived the initial blasts, the resulting nuclear winter, in the next couple of years, will surely kill them. And then, I can finally set on the journey to find my brothers again, and beg them to finally end my life.\n\nI am sure they will.\n\n----------\n\n/r/dori_tales"
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[WP] You're the worlds second greatest chess player. You have made it to the most important match of your life and are sitting across the board from the first ranked. Only thing is, you dont even know how to play chess.
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"I always knew there was a chance something like this could happen. I had just always hoped that if it did, I would end up in more favorable circumstances. Now I'm likely stuck forever in the year 2017, on the planet Earth, and in the soft body of a young man named Wesley So, a grandmaster of a game called Chess. I suppose this is better than death, if only slightly. \n\nIn my day, I kicked ass and didnt bother taking names. I had a reputation as the toughest son of a bitch in the universe. I spent over a hundred earth years as an enforcer of the Universal Petition for Justice and Peace. I Ross up the rankings fast and spent decades as a commander for my task force. We traveled across the universe extinguishing attempts at world domination, mass slavery, genocide, you name it. I lived every day vanishing the nightmares of the weak and unable. Eventually though, you get sick of it. You grow tired. I had just recently retired from the enforcement task force and taken a more relaxed job in a different field. See, what had originally interested me in being a part of the Universal Police was the exploratory side. I had the skills to succeed at being a hardass but what I really wanted was to see the universe. I was one of few earthlings that ever had a chance to join, to leave our planet, and I took my opportunity in a heartbeat. Our technology in 1989 wasn't advanced enough for true space exploration and our Earth had already been explored over time and again, the most majestic of places beginning to be ruined by tourism. I wanted the experience like those early explorers in the 15th and 16th centuries. So I left. And I was good at what I did. Most Officers have a career of 5 years or less before they die or quit. I have the rare gift to be able to look the most horrific things the universe has to offer in the face and say \"fuck you\". And fuck them I did. \n\nAn officer's most important tool is his Star Gun. They are the rarest of items, with technology well beyond what you could imagine or I could explain. See, the gun has 5 functionsf: Stun, Kill, Swap, Portal, and Heal. With this tool, you could heal a man of cancer, or disintegrate him at an atomic level. You can stop a man in his tracks, frozen in time. You can swap bodies with another being, and you can open portals to any location in the universe, at any point in time. When you first start as an officer they give you a gun with just the stun feature. And as you move your way up the ranks, you gain more features. No man can use the gun of another. I was one of only five men and women with the most rare feature, time travel. Thats a big responsibility, that quite frankly, no one should have ever had in the first place. \n\nMy downfall began only hours ago. My new job was to explore the outer galaxies, updating archives, creating new maps, and keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity as many destroyers of worlds start their war path on the outer rim out of our sight. I had a crew of 4 men and 2 women. Myself making for a total of 7 of us. We were in a small and relatively young galaxy which hadn't been explored in eons. Only three of their planets even now held multicellular life. Of those that did, only one had developed intelligent life, and even it was in its earliest stages. Still relying on small tribal groups and having only the ability to travel by foot. As a result, we had let our guard down. It was clear that there was as little danger as could be expected in this galaxy. Our job here was merely to map out the land and seas of the planets and taking rough census data of the types and population numbers of beings, flora, and fauna on each complex life bearing planet. On the most advanced societies and ecosystems, we land for a short case study, and leave, undetected. Upon exiting the third and final planet of the galaxy that we needed to collect data on, things felt wrong. After a century of fighting and changing bodies countless times, I had settled in the body of a humanoid being called a Vikirian. The Vikirian are slightly larger in frame than humans, much stronger, much more robust, and have acute senses, which over the years I've learned to trust. I got that burning feeling on my skin, sorta like a fiery variety of goosebumps and before I could react, sensors began blaring. Before we could read the systems info, it appeared. Seemingly out of nowhere. And we were being dragged into its gravity. A planet. A planet so complex, it had cloaking technology around its entire mass. As we slowly were dragged in, we could do nothing but look around in horror. This planet wasn't natural. It was made by something. Or someone. The entire thing a twisted ball of metal and fire. As we neared the surface we saw beings, beings larger than the most giant we had ever had knowledge of, and they seemed angry at our presence. At first we were confused. We tried all means of escaping, but our technology was useless here. They were jamming everything. But how? These beings seemed primitive. How had they done all of this? We landed, and we became surrounded. We should have abandoned ship and stepped through a portal to our home base right then and there. But we didn't. Our job was to stay and investigate situations like this as long as we could. Five of the giants surrounded our craft. And just stopped. They stood their as if waiting for something. And then there they were. An army of hideous creatures with the most amazing ability to camouflage as I have ever seen. And then it hit me. I remembered the legends from when I was at the academy of a race of being so full of hatred and malice. They had been one of the first ancient groups that attempted universal domination. They were responsible for the destruction of hundreds of planets and were the reason the police force was created in the first place. The reason the differing races from all around the universe learned to cooperate for the better good. They were called Zarkajians. But it had been so long that it was all thought to be a myth. And even if they were real, they should have all been destroyed. A band of survivors must have survived and been building up for revenge all this time, and we just stumbled into their atmosphere. They appeared all around our ship, all over the giants outside, all around the landscape. They were alll howling and screeching a nightmarish noise. By the time I realized what was going on, I heard the sound of crunching metal, the ship was being ripped opened like a can of beans. I reached for my gun. And before any of us could react, they were inside. They were so fast. I still can't believe it. By the time I upholstered my gun and switched the function to portal, they had ripped apart most of my comrades who looked back at me in terror. I wasn't prepared for this. I had been out of the game too long. I let my guard down and I reacted too slowly. I fumbled for the controls. I set it to Earth, as it was nearby already in the E section. Then the place, I typed in random coordinates that I knew was somewhere in new York city. Then the year selection. It was set by default to 0000. I scrolled it as fast as I could towards a more modern time and hoped for the best. At the last possible moment I pulled the trigger, opening a portal, switched to body swap mode, and shot it towards the first person I saw on the other side of the portal. As I felt the change occur, I lept into the portal, pushed my old body back into the forsaken ship, and pulled the trigger to close the portal. I was too slow. One of them got an arm through, grabbed the barrel of my gun and pulled it back through. I let go. I decided to live rather than die and in doing so, I likely exiled myself to live out and die in whatever life and body I just swapped myself into. \n\nI had warped into the backstage of a chess tournament. I had taken the body of a little phillipino American chess grandmaster. I had immediately fumbled into my new pockets, found a wallet, looked at my new face and name. Saw my birthdate. 1993. Looked at my phone for the date. 2017. I was hoping I had scrolled closer to the year 2500 at least. But nope, I'm back, barely younger and barely ahead in time from when I left this planet all those years ago. A man comes back. He tells me it's showtime and ushers me onto a stage and into a chair across from another nerdy looking young man. I look down, a checkered board with game pieces arranged on it lies in front of me. Chess. I remember vaguely the game my grandfather would play with his friends at the park every Sunday. I'm now the #2 chess player in the world, and I have no clue how to play chess. "
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Edit: Different colors of the light represent different feelings.
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[WP] Everyone has a light on their foreheads showing their emotions, one day in public, it shows something you don't want everyone else to see.
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"Feelings. Everyone has them. If you're feeling down, your forehead will light up blue. If you're feeling happy, it will light up yellow. Everyone you pass by is likely to have a different color emitting from the top of their head. \n\nI was at school one day, sitting in the cafeteria all alone, when a girl came up to me, her head yellow as can be as she smiled and asked, \"Mind if I sit here?\"\n\n\"S-Sure,\" I said in a shaky voice, being the angsty middle schooler who's never talked to girls that I am.\n\nHowever, she didn't sit across from me. No, she sat right next to me, with her ass right up against mine. I felt something that day, something I hadn't before. My genitals felt all... Weird. She looked at me and her mouth dropped, and some kids in the cafeteria began laughing and pointing.\n\n\"His head is pink!\" they all shouted, breaking out into uproarious laughter.\n\nI had no idea what they meant. Pink? I'd never heard of anyone's forehead lighting up in pink. My math teacher walked up with a concerned look on her face, then gestured for me to grab her hand.\n\n\"Come on, Samuel, you need to get cleaned up,\" she said.\n\nI grabbed her hand and walked with her, not knowing what she was referring to. She took me to the bathroom and told me to go in and clean my... area. \n\nI looked in the mirror, and, just like the students in the cafeteria said, my forehead was pink. I then looked down and saw it... my pants were soaked."
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[WP] A demon worshiper goes forth to commit dark deeds in his master's name, unaware that his "master" is actually an angel of the Lord, trying to subtly guide him back to the light
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"The wind swept through the land and blew through the holes in Aaron's t-shirt. It howled in jest, proud that it found his lungs and coursed through them taking the little heat his body generated for itself. His teeth rattled both in fear and the frigid temperatures. Across the valley he could see rain falling and for a moment he prayed for death if only to avoid a night in this icy damnation. \n\nWhat sort of mission had the council sent him to? Now all alone, it seemed more of a fool's errand than anything else. With a one final step he fell broken and beaten. He was sorry for a lot but there was a lot to be sorry for. He was sorry for failing his parents, he regretted listening to Saith, he wanted to apologize for not learning spells soon enough, and most of all he rued falling so low. \n\nAs one knee touched the ground a faint voice called out, *\"Aaron\"*. \n\nHe looked around. Who else would be out in such a desolate wasteland? Now not only would he die but he would die mad. \n\nIt called again, \"Aaron,\" He turned to see a light shining in the distance. From behind he could hear the rain slowly climbing. He made a rush and as he came closer he saw that it was a cottage with smoke blowing from its chimney. \n\nHe meant to collapse on the door for rest but it burst open. He was warmed almost immediately. The rooms soft light shown on a man and woman. With them were two children, wrapped in warm woolen sweaters and from their cups steam wafted. \n\nThere was something off about them. The way they looked at him as if he was human, which he was, but he had fallen so low he barely considered himself man any more. He wanted to explore what was wrong with them but someone called out to him. \n\nOn the dining table, decked in a golden jacket was Zanarel. The master gave him a warm smile, unheard of from a dark mage, as he waved him closer. \n\n\"Welcome Aaron, I'm glad you made it. I never thought I could get you away from them.\" \n\n\"Them?\" \n \nZanarel lifted his chin a bit higher and Aaron noticed a pair of white wings on the master. The hovered rhythmically with each breath he took. Then he saw what he was trying to pick out from the couple next to them. The children, they were cherubs, he could now see the aura that each radiated that competed with the lamps in lighting the room. \n\nLips quivering he turned to Zanarel, \"Is this judgement?\" \n\nZanarel placed out a hand, she urged him to take it. The moment he touched her a spark started on his right hand and coursed arm his arm. The little cold left fled his body, his wound started to vanish, his knee pains began to fade, his blue left turned a healthy pink and for the first time in the past 3 days he managed to wave his fingers. \n\n\"No Aaron,\" \n\nHis mage branding faded. \n\n\"This is redemption.\" \n\n"
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EDIT: And yes, I was thinking of the entire Illuminati as consisting of a total of five individuals who are completely fed up...
Of course with the Illuminati you can never be sure.
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[WP] We are the Illuminati and the five of us are up to here with trying to clean up these messes you people insist on making so...
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"¨Who are you?¨, they asked.\n\n¨We are sent from the Illuminati, and quite frankly, the five of us have had it with cleaning up your messes. Do you know how many scandals we had to cover up, hide or deflect?¨ I explained.\n\nSilence filled the room.\n\nFinally, the chief of the FBI spoke up: ¨I dunno... Seventeen?¨\n\n¨Three hundered fourty seven! And these are only from the moment your president started here!¨\n\nTheir looks wandered to the president, who was typing away on his smartphone in disinterest.\n\n¨Him?¨, one asked. ¨Really? He is harmless, please. Stop bluffing and tell us what is really going on.\n\nI pulled out my smartphone instead, and opened our private browser on it. It allowed me to visit the Illuminati-hosted site ¨Untwitter.com¨, which showed a backlog of all prevented, suppressed and changed tweets as they were posted originally.\n\n¨Here, take a look.¨ I showed them the latest, unfiltered tweets of the president.\n\n¨*Bet you can´t hack the pentagon! Hint: It´s Swordfish.*¨\n\n¨*Someone hacking my tweets to change them! Sad day for FreeSpeech!*¨\n\n¨*Area 51? Just the storage for my dick! Prove me wrong and become a millionaire!*¨\n\n¨*Illuminati is real, guys! I met them, they are liberals! Fuck em!*¨\n\nThey looked confused to me. ¨So, you edited every tweet by him? Why? It is just the ramblings of a puppet.¨\n\n¨This is no puppet. One by one, he is making people ask questions... Meanwhile, he is rallying people against the state. If it was not for us, the people would be storming this facility right now.¨\n\n¨So? I do not see why that is bad... We are founded on the democratic principle of letting the people´s voice be heard. If they were riled up, we would not object to that...¨the vice-president asked.\n\n¨We assumed as much. And technically, that is why we are here. After all the time we spend protecting you, not taken seriously all the while, we are tired. So, mark this as the final meeting of us. We already transferred our investments to another state. Canada sounds nice, doesn´t it?¨\n\n¨So... What then?¨, he asked\n\n¨Well, you are free to tell what you want. Starting from the next day, we will no longer interfere with your plans. I hope you have made investments to secure your assets.¨\n\nSeveral voices of mumbling went around as suddenly, the president spoke up. ¨I have all my wealth secured, in gold and oil. My funds are untouchable.¨\n\nMy colleagues laughed, but this was no laughing matter for me. ¨You know what? Here, take this bottlecap from me. I can promise you, when the day comes, you will cherish having it more than your gold and oil and houses and people... See it as a parting gift.¨ I turned to my colleagues after I gave him the red cap. ¨Alright, we are done here. Let´s move it, people. Canadian superpowers sound fuckin´ cathartic right about now, doesn´t it?¨\n\nAnd thus, we left, to leave the politicians and officers behind in confusion, never to be heard of again."
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[WP] The moon is an alien space station. Write about the aliens observing us.
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"“Such an expressive planet,” Lana said. I watched the colors flow across her perfect face as she admired the shimmering dashboard. It tracked Earth’s surface temperature, population movements, and emotional tides. We were alone on the graveyard shift. It had been my life's work to engineer moments like this with her.\n\n“I just wish we didn’t have to lose sleep to watch it,” I said. I was hoping this would lead to a situation where she napped on my shoulder. It had happened before. But she was too distracted.\n\n“Why do you think they leave so much of their communication unencrypted?”\n\nI sighed. The humans’ openness was a favorite topic of hers. All of the other known Hominoidean species were like ours, with layers of privacy, formalized paths towards intimacy. Our sociologists had long ago agreed that this etiquette was the basis of our current prosperity. Ritual contained and sublimated our natural violent tendencies into universally-understood gestures and language, which prevented war and preserved genetic diversity. The prevailing academic consensus dictated that without etiquette, we would devolve into bloodthirsty troglodytes in less than three generations.\n\nBut somehow, the humans had developed a society with the barest whisper of shared ritual. Each individual dumped out every thought upon whatever other individuals were proximate, sprayed his or her feelings across the electronic communication systems they had somehow come together to engineer like a berlip marks a jaj. It was disgusting. But to Lana, it was a miracle.\n\nIt was why we had built this space station, disguised as a dusty rock in orbit around their planet. They had of course noticed us, even come out to greet us in their clumsy way, but interaction was outside the scope of our mission. We watched them bounce around on our station’s shell and were able to collect very granular data with a non-lethal dosage of radiation. Lana had cried and said it was the most rewarding experience of her life. I retreated a few layers of intimacy to give her the privacy to process her emotions. It had taken me weeks to re-establish our connection.\n\nShe hadn’t looked at me once during our entire shift. Her eyes were wide and stayed on the dashboard as she said: “Don’t you wish sometimes that we could be like them? That we could just say what’s on our minds and in our hearts?”\n\nI said: “No.” Then we sat in silence as deep as space. Our station continued in its orbit, always regarding Earth, occasionally being regarded back; falling towards the planet at a speed at once colossal and imperceptible to our eyes.\n\nRead more of my writing at [r/robotdevilhands](https://reddit.com/r/robotdevilhands)"
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[WP] "It's a time-honored tradition in the spirit world to give psychics and mediums vague, spotty, and/or useless information. One day, they'll take the hint, and leave us the fuck alone."
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"\"I'm getting something,\" The medium held their hands, shaking, the her ears. She continued, \"Has anyone here, lost a Mary?\"\n\n\"M'dear this is Ireland. Everyone here has lost a Mary.\" The rest of the mediums backstage took a drink. They knew a fraud when they saw it. There's no way that the spirits would give someone an easy line like that. Bunch of undead coy bastards. The lot of them.\n\nGeorge stood up, no need to be in a bar when he could get drunk at home. Ghosts made better company than all the depressed psychics in this place. He'd been in this business for years and he'd managed to make three contacts on the other side worth talking to. It didn't sound like many, but it had taken decades. And in this business three was an outstanding amount. The problem with dead people was that they didn't seem to make any new memories, but were somehow all sworn to being unhelpful. The only dead people that he could trust were his relatives, and his brother still thought that he was a fraud. \n\n\"Never mind all this talking business,\" He'd said the first time George had contacted him, \"What'd you do with that 20 bucks that was in my wallet?\"\n\nGeorge stumbled back home muttering about the digital era and the end of the spirit world. All the successful mediums were hackers and Facebook stalkers. The old ways were dying out. He spent his nights drinking away whatever he managed to make that morning. He spent his sleeping hours imaging the respect he'd get in a zombie apocalypse.\n\n\"Buncha useless dead pricks,\" He muttered to himself.\n\n\"You're not much yourself!\" Came the wailing chorus that followed him everywhere. Sixty years of tearing at the veil that separated the two worlds had made it so George barely existed in the world of the living. He could see more of the spirit realm than the waking world. Cats always looked the same, it was the most unsettling thing.\n\n\"Piss off,\" yelled a floating skeleton as it skittered by, it made a rude gesture. George recognized it was a man he'd tried to get in touch with a few days ago, some family squabble. Hadn't been much help then. George trying to be a therapist with the family's deceased patriarch thrusting madly at his aged wife and yelling racial slurs. Distracting, that was George's attraction to the customers. Plenty of locals had heard about him. Besides, sometimes he got things right, luck had it's way of playing favorites. His limited success certainly wasn't based on his years of hard work and magical sensitivity, because the spirit world was spiteful to everyone.\n\n"
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[WP] Instead of making people happy you make people unhappy.
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"I was tired. Another 8 hours of monotonous work. Day in and day out I have to talk to people through their issues, and day in and day out I hate every moment of it. On the bright side, so do they. I get that not all of us hate our job, but everyone I work with wants to die on the outside as much as they are on the inside.\n\n\"We're supposed to do other things too, right?\" How naive I was. Thinking these questions would get me anywhere. I- no, we were stuck with one job. All of us here were forced to do the same thing in and out, and our malice would pass on to others. No matter how much we feigned it, the people screaming would ruin what little happiness we could pretend we had.\n\nBut I couldn't keep dawdling. Every second was money to *them*, and I couldn't afford to waste their money without expecting to look for another job.\n\nWith reluctance, I picked up the phone once more, and proceeded to utter my hated intro with the most chipper voice I could muster, fake as it did sound.\n\n\"Thank you for calling Comcast Customer Support, my name is-...\""
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[WP] You can't outshoot, out gamble or out ride the criminal element in town, but folks made you sheriff because you can out bullshit anybody, any time.
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"Against the high noon sun, veils of dust cast fugitive shadows--whispering hot and dry and shifting slyly in the wind. It rendered all the buildings somewhat blurry and indistinct, dulling lines and edges and wearing outlines down, so that the structures of the town seemed to bleed into the dust, and seep through their own black, stretching shadows down the barren streets. Looking down Main Avenue, which ran neatly through town, Jesse was reminded of a desert-bleached skeleton’s spine--stripped of meat and viscera, naked and shimmering in the heat. \n \n“Alright,” he said, at last, when he saw the dots approaching, which marred their way across the distance between the horizon and Speltown’s gates, ugly and assertive and inexorably encroaching, until the dots enlarged into blemishes, and then into human forms: six men upon their horses, storming into town. \n \n“Alright,” said Jesse, again, as they loomed large through the open gates, and then, slowing to a more measured gait, stopped fifteen feet from where he stood. \n \n“Howdy,” he said, nodding and tipping his hat. “I reckon ya’ll must be the Brimstone Boys. Which one of you is Bill?”\n \n“That’s *Baphomet* Bill,” said one of them. He grinned and his lip twisted grotesquely up the long slash of a keloid scar. “So, you’ve heard of us now, have you?”\n \n“I have. It is an honor to meet the chosen.” And Jesse sank to his knees with great obsequience, pressing his forehead to the ground. \n \nA pause, and then guffaws. \n \n“Lookit here,” said Baphomet Bill, slapping his holstered thigh, “We’ve got a real yellow bellied sonuvabitch of a no-use sherriff in this town. Ain’t never seen nobody surrender so strange, so fast, so quick. I guess our reputations precede us, Boys, and by God, we’ve earned them. Well--you must know what we’ll be wantin’ then. Go on, man, git to it.” \n \n“Of course.” Jesse peered up, raising his palms as if in worship. “We have prepared for your arrival, exactly as He told us.” \n \n“Gold and girls,” roared Baphomet Bill, and the rest of the Boys cheered. “Gold and girls, forever; earthly riches, gold and girls.” \n \nBehind them, Jesse caught a glimpse of several scurrying figures, depositing bundles in the road, before silently disappearing into an alley. “Yes sir. That’s right. He is ready for those riches, and right pleased to receive your gifts, truly. If’n you’ll bring your offerings forward, we’ll commence with the ritual promptly. It ain’t too good to keep Him waiting, ‘specialy if you owe Him.” \n \nThe sniggers petered out, and crude glee was replaced with faint confusion. “What the Hell?” said Baphomet Bill, “Are you crazy or stupid? We don’t owe nobody nothin’, and I sure as shit ain’t Santa. What you talkin’ about, what ritual and gifts and shit?” \n \nJesse gasped, and opened his eyes wide, radiating innocuous disbelief. “Why--not so loud, He might have heard you. Don’t go rilin’ Him up!” \n \n“*Who* up?” growled Baphomet Bill. \n \n“The--the Devil, of course,” said Jesse. He connived an artful quiver. \n \nThe ensuing silence was framed by six flabbergasted gazes, broadcasting the kind of stunned, half-amused contempt that one reserves for the idiot relative, who inevitably embarasses himself at every family gathering. \n \n“Y’all *are* the Brimstone Boys, correct? The ones who made a pact with the Devil? To rob and rape and murder, and commit crime in His name? And in return for a share of blood money, and all those harvested souls, y’all have been promised by Satan himself to never be stopped by the law?”\n \nSomewhere, something clucked, and Jesse bit back a wince. *Not yet*, he thought, *not yet*. \n \n“Yeah--that’s us,” said Baphomet Bill, glaring down at Jesse. “We’re the Devil’s own, alright. So there’s no use trying to arrest us; no man alive can do that, ever.” \n \n“Well, the Devil wants his dues, boys. He sent you here so’s he could collect. I mean, he told *us* y’all would be comin’ by, to give him his share of gold and girls. Didn’t y’all get the message? Why y’all lookin’ so confounded?” \n \nJesse held their incredulous stares for as long as he dared, then slowly and deliberately scratched the side of his nose. \n \nThere was a crack like a gunshot, and then, behind the gang, there roared up in the road a fantastic column of fire, green and harsh and malevolent, tongues leaping towards the sun. All around them rang a clamor--shrieking peals of demonic laughter--and from the fire there came, quite unmistakably, the reeking smell of sulfur. \n \n“What--what--” sputtered Baphomet Bill, as their horses shied and reared. \n \n“It’s the Devil, boss,” cried one of his men, shooting at the massive bonfire--which swallowed the missiles in its sparking maw and billowed still stronger and higher. \n \n“Shut up--” said Baphomet Bill, “We *made up* the story, you fool! It’s none of it true, moron, we spread it on *purpose*, remember? This is some sort of trick--some sort of--” He whirled back to face Jesse, pistol in hand, eyes narrowed. \n \n“Well, the Devil took your word for it,” called Jesse, who had been backing hastily away. He disappeared into the ground just as Baphomet Bill pulled his trigger, falling into the covered pit he had dug with Doc Wyatt that morning. “You alright?” whispered the Doc, who had been waiting for him there. They heard once more a crack and roar and knew that another column of emerald fire had been lit down the street, to sandwich the gang in between. \n \n“I’m jest fine. Come on!” Together, they opened the cages, and warm, feathered bodies rushed out. \n \nThus, Baphomet Bill’s cautious approach to the spot where Jesse had vanished was abruptly halted. A great flock of black, screeching birds emerged from the ground, flurrying violently towards him, beaks and claws outstretched. \n \n“They came out of Hell!” shrieked a Brimstone Boy, “The Devil’s come for us, fellas!” \n \nThe unholy fires, the sulfurous fumes, the demon cries, the black killer pigeons--it was too much for the outlaws. Their desperate shots found no targets but windows, and, unfortunately, Baphomet Bill’s left foot. \n \n“God-*damn*” yelled Baphomet Bill, “Let’s git, Boys, come on!” \n \nAnd, as a terrified body, they rode madly out of town, screaming past the belching flames, back into the vast desert horizon. \n \nSpeltown carried on for a while longer, keeping up the racket just in case. Then, when the fires at last died down, Jesse climbed out of the pit. \n \n“Christ almighty,” said Doc Wyatt, as Jesse helped him up, “God bless you, Sheriff, and your connivin’. You damn well bullshitted us outta their hands.” \n \n“I ain’t the chemistry genius, Doc.” Jesse clapped his friend on the back. \n \n“It’s jest phosphorus, that does the fire trick,” said Doc Wyatt, humbly abashed. \n \n“Then God bless you and your phosphorus.” \n \n“And your bullshit.” \n \nAnd they went to clean up. \n \n \n\n",
"The lovely people of Wet Bedrock were all out in the town on Sunday, as it was a Sunday, so they all got to see me nearly soil my chaps while facing down a tall, muscular, and bald ne'erdowell who had just got done shooting and robbing the bartender. Truth be told, Ida not minded having less eyes and faces on me when I needed to make certain and particular decisions that day, seeing as acouplea children are now fit to have deviant natures, after witnessing me doing what I needed to do on that day... But you cannot pick your audience - especially in a town such as this.\n\nSo, fella steps off his horse like I asked him to - only he holds onto his rifle exactly like I did not ask him to. Fearless and completely blind to Jesus, I could see it in his eyes. After sizing him up and assessing the situation for a few seconds, I take my hand off of my revolver and put both of my hands in the air.\n\nWait right there and I'll go get you more money! I tells him. And feel free to take some hostages - I insist!\n\nHe agrees to, simple as that, and I go inside my office where my girlfriend Tanya is sleeping off a hangover. I wake her up, make her a costume and slip her into it, then we walked outside.\n\nRemember last night, when he came into your room? You knocked her up! I tells him, showing him Tanya's belly, which is stuffed with some blank paperwork I found in my office. Let us go and we'll raise your baby!\n\nClever guy asks me, is going to be a boy? Says he'll only not kill us if it's a boy.\n\n*Of course* it was going to be a boy!\n\n***\n\nHi there, and thanks for reading my story. I, /u/conniecompanion, have created a subreddit that's similar to /r/writingprompts, which is called:\n\n# /r/LFSFU\nThe acronym stands for \"Letters from science fictional universes,\" and the subreddit is a place where you can find, post, and comment on pieces that are written from a first-person view and have science fiction elements.\n\n^For ^now ^I ^am ^its ^only ^moderator, ^but ^if ^and ^when ^it ^grows ^and ^I ^see ^a ^need ^to ^expand ^the ^team ^(to better promote discussion and keep out bad things) ^then ^I ^will ^let ^people ^know.",
"Sheriff Taylor was never considered the best man for, well, any job but now he found himself with a shiny new Sheriff’s badge and the tall order of cleaning up the town. Clarence Harris and the rest of the Harris Gang had been running Diamond City unofficially for the past three years and no one had been able to put a stop to them. They controlled the saloons, the brothels and the gambling houses along Main Street and didn’t care who knew it. If anyone had a problem with how they ran the town, they ended up in a ditch. That’s where the late Sheriff Dorn was found three nights previous after a scuffle in the streets resulted in three dead and two of the Harris Gang behind bars. The next morning Sheriff Dorn was found and the jail house was left in ashes. \n\n Taylor knew he couldn’t ride up and arrest Clarence Harris without finding himself in the same situation as Dorn so he started looking for other ways to deal with his gang. They all had their vices, every night nearly half the gang got piss drunk while the other half maintained control. They were smart about making sure they always had the muscle needed to maintain order and keep the law from trying to intervene. There was no obvious solution but the town didn’t come to Taylor for an obvious solution, they came to him for his knack to bullshit his way out of any situation. He wasn’t sure how that could be applied to a gang full of criminals who’d kill you as soon as look at you but the job came with pay and a place to sleep so he accepted it determined to figure out the rest later.\n\n\n Sheriff Taylor walked into the Diamond Saloon with no gun on his hip and his hands raised. “Let’s nobody get too excited now, I’m just here to have a friendly conversation.”\n\n\n “Fuck your conversation and fuck that badge you’re wearing, last man to walk into this bar with that badge ain’t doing so well.” Responded Clarence Harris.\n\n\n “Now now, that was a different man with different principals. I’d very much like to spend my final hours in the arms of woman in a brothel somewhere years from now so I’m not looking to do anything rash here. I waited a week to let things simmer down and now I’m here to have a chat.” Taylor said.\n\n\n Harris rolled his eyes, slammed his drink on the bar and drew his revolver pointing it right at the Sheriff’s face, “Say your peace and if I don’t like what I hear, I’m gonna blow your head off.”\n\n\n “That seems fair...I think.” Taylor moved a few steps to his right, took a seat at the nearest table and laid out his proposition. “This is how I see it, you and your boys run this town. You proved it the other night when you decided to, shall we say ‘retire’ Sheriff Dorn.” Laughter from Harris’ crew started to put the group at ease. As the tensioned in the room dropped, Taylor slowly crossed his legs and began to unstrap the pistol he had on his ankle. “I have no intention of ending up like that but the people of this town hired me to do something so I thought we could come to a mutual agreement. You keep doing what you’re doing and so as not to appear worthless, every couple nights when one of your boys gets a little out of hand in the saloon, I take him into sleep it off. The town can see that I’m able to enforce some law and all it costs is an occasional night in jail for one of your gang and you won’t get any issues from me in this town. For anything somewhat serious we can make a little show of it, pretend I’m sending one of your gang to the capital for a real trial when really they head out of town for a day and come back the next night, lay low for a few days and all is well.” \n\n“You may be wondering what you get out of all this and that’s a pretty straight forward answer, you get to deal with one Sheriff for years who only cares about staying alive. I give you no real trouble and you don’t kill me. You keep killing Sheriff’s and the governor’s not gonna have a choice but to send down some Marshall’s and that’s not what you want.”\n\n \n\n “We’re not worried about some piss ant Marshall’s, we’ve killed plenty.” Harris spat back.\n\n\n “Yes, I don’t doubt that for a second, but that just seems like too much work if you ask me. Seems like the life of a criminal is one with a goal of doing as little work as possible.” \n\n\nThis thought seemed to ring true to Harris who set his revolver on the bar, took a seat and took a long draw from his beer. “Alright Sheriff Taylor, I don’t reckon that’s the worst idea I’ve heard. As much as I enjoy killing lawmen, the less I have to worry about the law getting any ideas of doing it’s job the better. I think we can give this a go on a trial basis...and if it doesn’t seem to be working I’ll just put a bullet in your head.” Laughter echoed from each corner of the saloon as Harris’ men returned to their drinks. At the same time Taylor pulled his pistol from his ankle holster and rested it on his crossed leg. \n\n\n“Why don’t we drink on it then, bartender, mind bringing me a fresh beer now that it looks like no one is getting shot?” The bartender scrambled nervously for a mug, still worried the new sheriff was gonna end up with a bullet in his head. He filled it full and began to bring it around the bar. \n\n\n “I’ll take that Joe.” Harris said grabbing the mug from the bartender. “As a token of our new agreement.” Harris walked over mug in hand, stopped halfway and with a sly grin to his men spit into the Sheriff's mug. He sauntered the rest of the way and set the mug in front of Sheriff Taylor with his wide dirty smile taunting the Sheriff and said “Cheers.”\n\n\n Sheriff Taylor didn’t consider himself a violent man, but he came into the Diamond Saloon with a plan and staring at Clarence Harris’ big dirty smile, one hand on his own mug and a hand on the Sheriff’s mug Taylor pulled the pistol up from his lap, pointed it right at Harris’ teeth and pulled the trigger. The bang silenced the entire bar as Clarence Harris fell to the ground, still holding onto both mugs and smiling through the hole in his front teeth. Taylor threw down his chair and ran for the saloon doors before a shot could be fired after him. Several of Harris’ men came chasing out after him to find themselves staring down the barrels of his four deputies and six US Marshals all on horseback."
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Your favorite song has come to life, and through some magic you are thrust into a world based off of it. You're forced to live through this new world for 24 hours, exploring the wonders(or horrors) of this new reality.
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[WP]Your favorite song has become reality
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" I'm glad people here take a while to examine dead bodies, any second later and I would've died... I guess my reward for surviving is a second chance at life. After this I don't want to have sleep paralysis since this whole ordeal was terrible. I guess I should start when... well I was just listening to music on my phone and watched the Anna Molly music video and felt everything just fade to black like I was slowly passing out.\n\n When I woke up I was looking at a tree, I was gonna say \"what the fuck?\" But I couldn't move... I couldn't even move my eyes. I tried to move a finger but it didn't work, I could feel everything though... I didn't think I was in my own body. I could feel that I had different... parts and the clothes felt softer and showed more skin. I was a tall hairy guy so I basically stuck to t-shirts and some flannel if it was could, but now I felt I was wearing a tank top and had a hoodie on. The underwear also felt different which just gave more proof I wasn't in my own body... also since I was a guy I definitely wouldn't wear a bra and had one against a different chest now.\n\n I felt a bug crawling on my hand and heard people running by but I still couldn't move anything, I was stuck just staring at the sky above me. There was a gasp I heard and a dog run over and it smelled me, after the owner got the dog she called the police and stayed there. She tried poking me but I couldn't say anything no matter how hard I tried... I was getting worried.\n\n The cops came and I felt them roll up my sleeve on my hoodie to feel for a pulse then they felt my neck. Next the shined a light in my eyes and I couldn't even shut my eyelids then they stood up and told the cops I was dead. They moved my body onto that... thing they moved bodies on and I heard a zipper coming closer to my head. I could tell it was a body bag by the time the zipper was in front of my face. They closed the bag and the light went away, all I could see was the bag material up close while I felt them strap me in the stretcher... I think that's what it's called.\n\n When I got to the hospital I could feel them searching the pockets of my clothes then taking them off, the cold air hitting places just felt odd but I couldn't do anything about it. They put me on a metal sliding thing... I don't know the terminology. I desperately tried to move and got my pointer finger to move... but that's all I could manage right now. I spent the next hours moving only a few fingers and hearing them talk and examine other bodies, by the time I could move three fingers they opened the door and I saw the metal roof of the thing I was in. \n\n They pulled the sliding thing out and I saw the ceiling go by, next they moved me to a cold metal table and I heard the guy talking for a second. I heard him turn on a bone saw and was screaming in my head that I was alive... I was actually shedding a tear but I felt it was on the side facing away from the saw. I tried to move my hand but I could only manage 4 fingers while I heard the saw getting closer. His hand came into view and the saw sounded loud and I was so incredibly lucky when I moved my arm to grab his... he screamed and jumped back dropping the saw on the ground.\n\n He asked if I was alive and all I could move was my arm so I grabbed the top of my head and nodded it manually feeling the long hair with my hand for the first time... I kinda felt it was there before. He got some people to come in and they noticed my eyes react to the light and felt a pulse, at this point I could move almost both of my arms... one hand and one arm basically.\n\n They put me in a gown while I was trying to regain movement and when I was in the hospital bed I could move again after an hour. I sat up breathing a sigh of relief and looked down at myself, under the gown I saw I was definitely in a different body. A doctor came into the room and said I was extremely lucky, they didn't see any poison or drugs on any tests so they didn't know what happened. I asked if I was free to go and they said that was fine... luckily I didn't really have anything done that required money to be spent. \n\n I got on the clothes I was wearing before and looked in the mirror in the bathroom of the hospital room I was in. I looked good, my hair was long and dark while my eyes were kinda blue green. I thought \"this is so fucking weird\" while stretching a little cause I still felt a little stiff. My phone was actually there and so was my pocket knife and stuff so I put that in my pockets and went to my apartment. \n\n It was weird since I still lived there but the people I lived with weren't there, I had the apartment to myself and all the stuff was kinda the same but with more of my video game stuff on the walls. My clothes were changed to ones to fit this new form and there was makeup and stuff in the upstairs bathroom, I had a small townhouse so the half bathroom had brushes and stuff while the main one had makeup and everything.\n\n I wanted to test something so I brought up the \"nobody's home\" music video then the \"I'm with you\" music video, I was still here, even after listening and going through my entire music album... it must've been some miner cosmic screw up or something. I didn't really know so I just took a shower because of the dirt and stuff on me. While I was in there I tried... something..., I won't go into detail on that but I'll say it was amazing though. \n\n It's been about a week since I could move now and I do like living alone and I'm planning on hanging out with my friends tomorrow. I think I'll stay in this life if possible. The body isn't bad... it'll take some getting used to but it's better than the one I had before. I think I can live with this.",
"I stumbled suddenly out of my reverie and blinked tired eyes shut. There had been a jolt, the kind you get when you are super high and suddenly think you are falling. I chuckled and took a drag on the joint, exhaling a long cloud of smoke into the cool night air. The soft wind tousled my hair and was a welcome relief from the dry closeness of the night. The sound of crickets clicking crept into my awareness, at the same time as the low rumble of an engine forced me to jerk my eyes open and stare in horror at my surroundings. \n\n\nThis certainly wasn't home. I rubbed furiously at my eyes, the joint flung discarded to the floor. I sat down hard in shock, all the air leaving my lungs in one breath, my hands clawing at sand. I turned onto my knees and crawled, half blind towards the sound of the engine, the sudden smell of still warm tarmac overlain with gasoline telling me there was a road somewhere close. I croaked out a half shout, my voice pitifully shallow and afraid. The sound of a car door slamming stopped me in my tracks. I looked up, weary. Car lights that shone through swirling dust and sand were broken by the shadow of someone moving towards me. I tried to stand but my legs failed and fell heavily back onto the floor, a brief wail sticking in my throat.\n\n\nConsciousness came back to me and I was in the passenger seat of an open top car. There were lights some way in the distance. I glanced up at the driver. Tired, hollow eyes stared mutely back at me. He was in his sixties, hair slicked back rockabilly style, but loose, untended and graying where it thinned out at his temples. His shirt was stained and damp with sweat. I opened my mouth to speak and he shook his head wearily. \n\n\n\"There's a place close by. Damn it but I remember the lights. Should be empty this time of year.\"\n\n\nHe laughed at that, a thin smile twitching across his mouth that never made it as far as his eyes,\n\n\n\"You can rest up there\".\n\n\nI stared back at him and nodded, fear stopping me from any other movement. He looked back at me and shook his head. \n\n\n\"Same thing happened to me forty eight years ago son. You'll get by.\"\n\n\nI turned away from him and drew my knees up for warmth. Huddled against myself, the cool night breeze suddenly seemed to carry with it simpering voices and drawn out wails. I shivered in terror as we swung off the freeway and into the car park of a large muted building, with rows of unlit, unwelcoming windows that looked for all the world like rows of teeth. The building was squat, poorly lit and flanked by desert on one side and tall carefully manicured, immaculate trees growing closely against each other on the other. \n\n\nWe parked next to the only other vehicle in the lot, a beautiful silver sports car, glistening faintly in the dim light coming from the entrance way to our left. The driver eyed the Mercedes wearily, then stepped out of our car with a resigned shrug, gesturing towards me to do the same. The slam of his door shutting spurred me into movement. I hesitantly opened the door and slid out, knees wobbling and stomach rolling. Not a single word had left my lips since I had found myself... wherever I was. Shuffling towards the entrance, I looked up and was surprised to see a woman, shrouded in white holding a tall candle that lit her pale features with a shaking, somewhat menacing glow. She was speaking quietly to the driver. She turned to face me and arched a long slender eyebrow in question, \n\n\n\"I see you brought your Alibi with you. How.. quaint. Perhaps this time we can... We shall see.\"\n\n\nEyes of the palest blue regarded me, unblinking, calculating. I coughed, suddenly embarrassed under the close scrutiny. But I couldn't tear my gaze away from hers. She was coldly beautiful, the shroud folded and hung loosely just so, here accentuating her form, there hiding it just enough to tantalize. She was built like a dancer, lithe, graceful. But cold. I shivered again. Concern flitted across her features.\n\n\n\"Cold? But of course, you must come in. Antoine will take your bags. Come come.\"\n\n\nFrom a fold in her sleeve she produced a small bell that rang sharply three times. She turned and linked arms with The Driver, and without a backward glance he headed through the door and the light from her candle began to dim. I tensed and looked behind me. The car park was dark now and I couldn't see the cars, or for that matter the road. Just at the limits of my vision I could make out the tall hedges, standing ominously still. Like prison bars. \n\n\n\"You must be The Alibi\", said a deep voice next to me, \"I am Antoine, please, let me take your bags\".\n\n\nI stepped back sharply, the voice sounded like gravel sliding over a spade. A small, squat man in a tattered red uniform hunched down next to me. He barked a laugh,\n\n\n\"Jeez... Don't panic, don't panic. I just want your bags. You need to relax... man. We're happy to receive visitors...\"\n\n\nHis voice. When he spoke I could hear the crickets that had met my arrival... here... earlier. I coughed and managed to speak,\n\n\n\"Where. Where the fuck am I? Who the fuck is the guy in that car?\"\n\n\nHis eyes glittered as he stared at me and shook his head. \n\n\n\"No questions. No questions. Come inside or I'll cast you into the dark\".\n\nHe was already turning, moving slowly inside the building. I had no choice, follow or stay in the dark. \n\n\nWalking through the door bought with it a sense of welcome relief. The gloom receded, replaced by the light of an old foyer, dominated by a large oak reception desk. The Lady was stood behind the desk, shuffling through some paperwork. Antoine huffed something about bags, cast a baleful glance in my direction and sloped away towards the staircase at the far side of the room. The Lady looked up from her paperwork and smiled at me, my stomach fluttered at her seemingly warm reception. \n\n\n\"Welcome Alibi, Antonie didn't scare you did he? Poor chap, he isn't the most hospitable of people, but he makes a good Night Man, very attentive.\"\n\n\nI opened my mouth to speak, but could only cough. The Lady frowned,\n\n\n\"My goodness, you must be parched... Let's get you checked in, there's champagne on ice and we can have a snack sent to your room if you're hungry?\"\n\n\nI could only nod. Her presence overwhelmed my confusion and frustration. There was something about her. She smelled, divine. Captivating. Her eyes were such a pale blue they were almost silver. I realized with a start that she had moved out from behind the desk and was beckoning me towards the stairs. \n\n\n\"I am called Sabine, this is my place. You are most welcome here, Alibi.\"\n\n\nI shook my head and cleared my throat. \n\n\n\"Where the fuck am I Sabine? An hour ago I was in my fucking garden and now I'm... wherever the fuck this is...\"\n\n\nI tailed off at her frown, the blue in her eyes blazed suddenly. I felt guilty and looked down.\n\n\n\"There will be time for questions later Alibi. For now, I will show you to your room. You can drink, wash and later, we will gather in His chambers.\"\n\n\nI nodded dumbly and trailed along behind her. The light from her candle seemed to glow brighter once we had reached the top of the stairs and I noticed the tall ceilings were some kind of metal cladding, polished to an almost mirrored finish. The effect made the corridors feel light but close, disturbingly close. \n\n\nShe stopped outside room number 4, the brass number hanging squarely in the center of the door. Her hand was soft on my shoulder, her scent almost overwhelming.\n\n\n\"Drink, wash. He will make it known when He is ready to receive you\".\n\n\nWith that, Sabine turned and walked away without a backward glance. As she left I seemed to feel the weight of the world drop over my shoulders. I realized that I had been holding my breath for some time. With nothing else to do, and the light in the passage fading quickly, I leaned on the door and shuffled through into a small room. There was a double bed adorned with white sheets and pillows, a large window behind heavy, partially closed dark velvet drapes. No furniture, other than a stand and polished stainless steel ice bucket, containing an opened bottle of champagne. To my left was a bathroom, dark tiles glinting under a small night light. I grabbed the champagne and drank, the ice cold rose liquid a welcome relief. It cost me no small amount of effort to walk to the bed and sit down, head in hands. I needed to take stock and work out what was going on. How had I got here? Was I tripping? Is this lucid dreaming? I slapped at my face. Nothing. Another swig of champagne. I began to sob, a great outpouring of emotion hurling itself out of me. Shuddering, heaving gasps, terror, exhaustion, confusion, all inter layered and intertwined with lust for Sabine. I couldn't wrap my head around what was happening. Panic clasped icy tendrils across my body, my breathing shallow and unfulfilling. I lurched into the bathroom, kicking my clothes off, reaching for the shower. The sudden cold shocked me into a semblance of normality. I stood, hunched over myself, the cold water splashing around me, I let it stream over my hair and face, waking me up, revitalizing me. Stepping out of the shower and toweling myself down was all it took for anger to begin to replace fear. Who the fuck were these people? What the fuck were they going to do with me?\n\n\nI left the bathroom and put my dusty jeans and squalid t-shirt back on, their familiarity grounding me. Swigging again from the champagne, I resolved to leave this place, no matter how dark it was. I could take The Drivers car. Get back on the freeway... I must have... slept walked? Tripped? What the fuck was in that weed man? Either way, I was getting out of here. Fuck Sabine and fuck Antoine. \n"
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[WP] In the distant future, the divide between the rich and the poor became large enough to influence the two to genetically diverge. They are now regarded as two separate species. An equality movement has just began.
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"“He’s not actually blind, right? Hey does have eyes? He can see?” asked Captain Barnes with one hand faintly raised. \n\nThe room was well lit. Long glass walls that encased the boardroom were penetrated by vibrant beams of light. The Ark was one of the few districts in New Mercer where the any semblance of daylight could be found. A vast artificial lighting system, colloquially referred to as “The Sunroof”, protected the affluent district from clouds of smog that covered the rest of New Mercer. \n\n“From what I’ve heard his name is more of a tall tale than something to be taken literally. Nonetheless, The Blind Man has gathered quite a following. We’ve received reports that his converts can now be found in districts 100 feet below sea level.” Explained Professor Svilar as he continued the presentation. \n\n“As of now, these are the only images of the ‘prophet’, sir” \n\nCommissioner Urbanek, chief authority of New Mercer leaned forward in his chair and examined the frail creature presented to him. The projector displayed a hunched being who’s arched spin could be seen poking through its tattered robes and pale skin. \n\n‘A vermite’ thought Urbanek. \n\nIts eyes were like dots; little black pupils shriveled into sunken sockets. Generations of life beneath the surface removed eyesight as a necessary trait for survival. Arguably the most impoverished subspecies of humans, vermites lived in the deepest tunnels below New Mercer where light is scarce. There, they operate the geothermal generators that power the hive-city. \n\nSvilar’s tone became serious and directed. “Mr. Comissioner, this is not to be treaded lightly. I’ve dealt with social movements for thirty-six years as an anthropologist and I have never seen something of this nature. His influence extends beyond his kin. The Blind Man has begun unifying lesser breeds. They’re threatening to strike, effectively cutting off power to the surface, until they receive higher rations and surface permits. Arranging a meeting with the Blind Man and his apostles may be the-“\n\n“Thank you Professor Svilar but please leave matters of diplomacy to the experts. Thank you for your report. My secretary will arrange a shuttle to take you home,” interrupted Barnes. After the anthropologist had exited the room, the captain rotated in his chair toward Urbanek. \n\nThe Commissioner let out a deep sigh and gazed back out the window. “They’ll treat him as a martyr. Make it clean,” \n\nWith a simple nod, Barnes picked up the phone.\n\n-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThey say it was painless, instantaneous, but no one truly knows. Hard to image a bomb so small having such a large impact. \n\nThe next day a press conference was called. The commissioner took the podium, the audience was silent. \n\n“As many of you are aware, a vermite operating under the alias of The Blind Man has acquired considerable political power in districts SL -650 to SL -100 over the past few months. His movement was one that valued peace, and unity across all walks of humanity. His message, was that of compassion and understanding for one another. But this cause is over.\" \n\n\"It is with a heavy heart that I inform you, my fellow citizens, that yesterday at 6:43 P.M., the cult of the Blind Man carried out a terrorist attack, killing our Chief Public Health Advisor, Professor Mathew Svilar as he shuttled home. Any decency once claimed by this organization has been tarnished through this malicious transgression against the stability of New Mercer. Our city will not cave to the violence invoked by these radicals. The Blind Man has shown his true character. I have issued orders to the city watch to capture all associates to the cult of the Blind Man to ensure the safety of all forms of humanity. We must stand together in the face of these advisories, these false prophets who wish to divide us. Goodnight, and God Bless.” \n"
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[WP] It's a day of accomplishment. As you're being congratulated, you hear a loud voice in your head: "Quest completed."
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"(Hello people of this wonderful subreddit, i'm new here and i wanna test my writing)\n\n\"I've worked so hard for this. Years and years of working, and I'm finally a manager, I'm finally a manager!\nTime to-\"\n*Quest Completed*\n\n\"What? Did anyone hear that?\"\n\nYou look around the room, you see everyone, and everything frozen. They aren't moving, nothing is moving. Then, as you look around you see that your co-workers have turned into pixels that are fading quickly. Not only that, the cups on the table and the plaque that your boss handed you is also fading. A few minutes later, everything is black. A door appears that says \"Exit\" You walk towards it. Suddenly, you are inside a room, with a big screen that shows the last thing you saw before everything faded away. A syringe with a tube is inside your arm.\n\n\"Ah, so you're awake.\" A man in a lab coat approaches you.\n\"How did you like the simulation?\"\n\"Wait, that was a simulation?\"\n\"How long was I inside there?\"\n\"1 week.\" \n\"So... I'm not a manager?\"\n\"You are in your real job.\"\nEverything suddenly flashes back to you, your memories before you entered the simulation, and why you did this for a friend\n\"Oh Fred, I remember now\"\n\"You really need to take a bath\"\n\"Yeah, I do. And what is this?\" You point at the syringe in your arm\n\"That's the nutrients we've been pumping you so you wouldn't die of starvation.\"\n\nYou go home after leaving the testing lab. And you take a bath, eat real food and sleep. (end)\n",
"Poonslayer69 walked forward towards the trees, palms sweating. He knew only one was needed. His friends sat around him looking on in disgust of jealousy and pride. \n/The cape will look wonderful/ young poon thought, his 13 year old mind racing with future desires.\n\nThighswan6 met Poon's eyes and he knew it was time, time to change the world. \n\nPoon grasped his rune axe harder than he had the past 94.6 days he'd been doing this mundane task. He couldn't afford the dragon version of said axe, nobody could. It was 2005 for Christ's sake. His arm swung back the distinct thud sound thus created. A sound he had heard millions of times before. But this time... this time mattered.\n\nThe tree fell, well more like disappeared due to Poons efforts and a nice stack of three logs appeared in his bag. Fireworks flew from all directions only to explode mere centimeters above his head. /Dangerous game this is/ poon thought. \n\nA banner scrolled across his face. He clutched it knowing what it would read. \n\nCongratulations you have reached 99 Woodcutting!\n\n"
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[WP] Write a tragic / heartbreaking letter of resignation or goodbye letter
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"*\"The rocket worked perfectly except for landing on the wrong planet\"* - Wernher Von Braun\n\n\n*At the very beginning of my creative life I loved humanity. I wanted to do something good for mankind. Soon I understood that it isn’t possible to save mankind\"* -Wisława Szymborska\n\n\nTo anyone it my concern:\n\n\nI didn't come from much. At least not externally. You might say I'm the embodiment of the American dream. \n\n\nMy parents came from nothing, but they gave me all they could give. And all they could give was hope. So I used that hope well. \n\n\nI always believed that any difficulty or wrong doing in the world had an answer that we could act on. We just needed to find the right answers. There's always an answer so long as we look hard enough. \n\n\nAnd so I devoted myself to seeking those answers. I studied long and I studied hard. And I always maintained a deep sense of hope. \n\n\nAnd my hope didn't return void. I found the answers I sought. I checked and rechecked their validity. I sought peer review. I published my findings. Through much effort, I provided us a clear and comprehensive answer to peace and prosperity. \n\n\nAnd you all praised my work. Everyone shouted of it's salvation for human mind. No challenge came forth to counter it. I had handed us the keys to utopia. \n\n\nAnd then days went by.\n\n\nWeeks went by. \n\n\nMonths went by. \n\n\nAnd nothing changed. I became old news. My life's work became old news. Everyone moved on to the next big thing. After the initial excitement, no one was interested in the perfect future we had at hand.\n\n\nSo world, this is my resignation. This is my goodbye. Against a sea of apathy, I have no answer. Only silence.\n\n\n\nDr. Alexander C. Clarkston\n\n",
"There's just this empty pit in my throat keeping the words from coming out. Better that I just write them down instead. \n\nI spent the last year of my life trying to make yours livable. You'd suffered so much in all your years, it was easy to think you deserved better. It wasn't hard at all for the first part. Even the smallest kindness brought you joy. You told me that I was the only person in your life, you'd ever been able to rely on. It was all so simple wasn't it? You were always so grateful for the things that any decent human would do. \n\nAnd so the year went on. You said you were done with those who'd poisoned your soul. I wanted to believe you. You promised, you swore. \n\nSo I kept giving and giving. \n\nFinally, I thought we were close to something. Something wonderful. Everyone who knew \"us\", saw how happy we were. They were happy for us. \n\nThen something went wrong. It all went sideways. \n\nEmotions that once flowed now dammed up behind barriers you erected. Distance forced as we finally had a chance to be close.\n\nYou wanted to fight about everything. Every little infraction went nuclear. Some were legitimate transgressions of a minor cause. Things amplified by your stress. Others... others made no sense. Miscommunication you refused to accept. Other things that were barely anything. You were always so angry. You took it all out on me. \n\nAll this in the span of three weeks. A thousand good deeds of the past year undone in less than a month of rage. Happiness drained away. Sadness replaced it. I sit here alone. Lost at what comes next. What happened to the woman I loved? Where did she go? What twisted our love into this unrecognizable monster? \n\nWill I ever get her back?\n\nIs this where it ends?\n\nIs this really goodbye?",
"This is Felix Garcia, writing for your father.\n\nI tried to give you and mama a better life, to get away from the sounds of constant firecrackers at night, to escape the intimidation.\n\nI remember when I first held you.. 5 kilos, 3 grams. We decided to name you Rosa after your great great grandmother. And in that instant. Everything changed. All of our struggles, all of my pain seemed worth it. All of the nightly runs meant something.\n\n50 pesos for a 12 hour shift was barely enough to cover groceries, let alone diapers. It was on this day, your birthday, that I vowed to secure the blessings of a better life for you all. Not out of greed, but necessity.\n\nThe army is making me write this, they say they have evidence of my sins but won't say further.\n\nDaddy won't be home for a while. Take care of Eric for me, try not to talk back to your mother while i'm gone.\n\nTell mama I tried, I really did.\n\nI love you more than you could ever know, don't forget that. All that I did in my life was for you, even before you were born.\n\nLove\n Barnabas, Dad.\ndated: September 22, 2011\n\nWritten in Spanish, translated into English on Dec 2, 2011.",
"deer mommy\n\ni heard wot the doctor said. i was hiding behind the door. i no i am going to die. i am sorry that i hit Karen that time and then said that I did not hit Karen. I am sorry that I lyed. i rember wot you said when edie died and i when i die i will go live with the angles and with petr pan and Winnie the poh and edie so i will not be alone. ples dont cry mommy. becase i hurt and when i die i wont be hurt any mor.\n\np.s. ples kis Karen for me always\np.p.s. dont let Karen bracke my bike becaus i want to rid it in heven. \n\nedit: word choice\n"
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[WP] "I know this sounds crazy, but im not crazy. Once you see it you will understand."
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"“What do you mean we’re in your dream?” said Rachael, “Are you crazy?”\n\n“I know this sounds crazy, but I’m not crazy. Once you see it, you will understand,” said Alex\n\nRachael moved uncomfortably in her seat, she was aware of all the stares she was getting from the other customers at the coffee shop. It had been a few minutes since Alex began his “little game” of trying to prank her.\n\n“Listen! that’s enough, you do sound crazy,” said Rachael.\n\nAlex grabbed Rachael’s shoulders from across the table, “Will you just let me explain, please!?”\n\n“Fine! You have one minute,” she said. “and get your hands off me, your drawing attention.” Alex removed his hands swiftly.\n\n“Okay... here goes... I’m a Lucid dreamer, I can control certain things in this dream that we're in,” He pointed his hands to the street outside the plane of glass. “I can control every single person in here... except... you.”\n\nRachael raised an eyebrow, “Thirty seconds,” she said.\n\n“I created you... you're the girl of my dreams, my dream girl, literally.” He pointed at the customers, “ I can make anyone in here doing anything I wish.”\n\nA waitress walked up to them with a concerned look. “Can I get you something else? ” she questioned.\n\n“No, thanks, I think we're leaving.” said Rachael.\n\nAlex looked annoyed that Rachael didn’t believe him. He quickly looked at the waitress’s badge which read “Jess”.\n\n“Hey Jess, would you mind jumping up on this table and jumping out the window.” he said.\n\n“Okay.” she dropped her notepad and pen.\n\n“Alright, ladies and gentlemen! We have a volunteer! Okay, Jess, Go!” he pointed towards the window.\n\n“Woah! Wait!” Rachael tried to stop her but Jess was too quick for her, she jumped up on the table as commanded and threw herself out the glass window. She lay face first on the pavement as people came running towards her.”\n\n“Now do you believe me?” questioned Alex.\n\n“Asshole!” Rachael punched him straight in the nose before storming out. "
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[WP] Your magnum opus is a failure. Five years of your life are gone, a total waste, and you sit home, alone, with your vice of choice on the table in front of you.
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"Cold. \n\nNot the whiskey in my hand of course, that was some lukewarm spilled mess, but just the general emotion oozing out of my head. Just...cold. \n\nI dug the back of the hammer into the mahogany coffee table at my knees, embracing the way I twinged as I scraped it backward, peeling rivulets of wood. \n\nI flopped back onto the couch. \n\nIt was over. \n\nShit. \n\nA drink of whiskey. Okay, more than a drink. I eyed the two empty fifths to my left, cuddling and dripping onto the couch. \n\n*WHAM* \n\nThe fanged end of the hammer drove into the wood. More rivulets. More scars on the table. \n\nI looked out the window of my high-rise apartment, stumbling up from the couch. The waves flowed into the city like dull tidal-wave watched in slow motion...\n\nI remembered the hammer in my hand and thought about smashing open the window, just for the hell of it...\n\nI raised my arm, hammer at the ready.\n\n...\n\nEh...\n\nI let it fall back to my side and stumbled back toward the couch. \n\nAs I staggered, the bottle fell from my hand and shattered on the hardwood floor, splashing my lab coat. \n\nI fell facedown into the couch. Why even get up? \n\nI was supposed to change the world, no, SHOULD have changed the world. Yet...one misplaced zero....one GODDAMN MISPLACED....\n\nI sighed, feeling the urge to vomit. What was left to be angry about? Something so small, being the end of all. It was almost poetic...if it wasn't so apocalyptic. \n\nBehind me, on the horizon, the grey tidal wave kept expanding. Ever moving, every consuming, ever growing...",
"I had everything I could ever have wanted at that moment. Isolation. Darkness. I sat at the small desk and stared at the cheap lamp and could only hear the billowing of my own breath. For so long - nearly a decade - success taunted me along the path of struggle only to prove the naysayers of my journey right, to prove that I was - am - a failure. Maybe I was.\n\nI powered my laptop on, a high powered one I used for work, with a top of the line GPU. I searched for my phone to check the time. 10:03pm. \n\nIt feels like only a few months ago that I finally crawled out of my hole of online gaming to reach for my dreams. After a lot of work, I actually had some small successes along the way, successes that helped me drive forward to keep going. I even started to grow a fanbase and made some good friends who were willing to give me time of their talent to shape my greatest achievement. The stepping stones of my small creations gave me the hope and courage I needed to step into this world and lay everything I had on the line.\n\nAnd I had to. I sold my wife and I's other car, I dipped a few thousand into my daughter's college account, the one we started when we first found out we were expecting, and took out a second mortgage on our three bedroom home. My blue-collar job was well-paying, but it was too volatile to sustain a career. Lord bless - and damn - my wife for taking the risk on me. Her reluctant support helped aid me along. She took a second job after offering some of our savings toward the project, to purchase the tech I needed.\n\nMaking the next great computer game was a daunting task, considering how many titles were already in market. Maybe I wouldn't achieve my goal of being on top, but I wanted to reach for as high as I could. The work that my little team put into the game, the sacrifices we each had to make, and the things I missed out on along the way...\n\n...and it all amounted to nothing.\n\n*\"1/10, don't download this game!\"\n\n\"the servers are ♥♥♥♥\"\n\n\"please give me my money back\"\n\n\"OBLIGATORY *THIS GAME IS GOOD*, **IF** REVIEW:\"\n\n\"not bad\"\n\n\"If this was an honest attempt from Electric Pastry, I'd like to know what was going on in the company. Something is legitimately missing compared to their other games.\"*\n\nWe silently, somberly, scrolled through the reviews the week after our launch. The servers could handle the crowd quite nice. Fans from every corner were ready to go, right out of the gate, eager to take on the world we created. When the reviews started coming in, we weren't ready for the news. Each of my previous games were what I would call successes. Very few negative reviews, all of which were minor technical complaints, and a lot of exposure across various distribution platforms, especially on Mist. It was a shock to me and to the rest of the team. I grabbed my laptop from my office and left. No one questioned me; we each were dealing with the loss in our own ways.\n\nMy phone buzzes with another incoming text. Eighteen missed calls. Twenty three unread messages. \n\n\"plz let me know ur okay!!! im freaking out and jessica has ben crying all day!\"\n\nAnother buzz. \"Johnathan im goin to call the cops ur missing if u dont respond in the next hour. plz call or at least txt!!!\"\n\nI clicked on the launcher for the MMORPG I downloaded a few days ago that I had kept an eye on while I was making my own game, only wishing I had a few extra hours to try it out. Now I did. \n\nWhen I first arrived at the motel I was skeptical of their internet speed, but presently surprised. I was even more impressed that there was a pizza place and a chinese place that delivered here within thirty minutes.\n\n User: Eternity_Fallen\n Password: ********\n\nI had everything I could ever have wanted at that moment. Isolation. Darkness. I sat at the small desk and stared at the screen as the music of the game filled my head and drowned out the rest of the world. ",
"Did ever a fool suffer more at his own hands than I?\n\nI had toiled, suffered, fought and struggled for five years, and for what? For this? This which had made me so miserable? \n\nFirst they mocked me, then they feared me, and then they hated me. \n\nAnd now they abused me, tormenting me at all hours of the night. How was I to escape it? It had become almost a national sport: see who could find the cruelest and most creative ways to hurt me. All because I followed my dream. It was on every news broadcast and every late night show. People were building careers on it.\n\nEven my wife publicly spurned me. She spent most of her time away now, in a city hundreds of miles away. Even when we were together she was cold and distant.\n\nI looked down at it on the table before me. It had cost me so much, and now it was destroying me. Could I give it up? Everyone said I should. Even those who had helped me get it told me to stop. But how could I? At this point it had become a compulsion.\n\nI looked at the Twitter log in screen and entered my username. @POTUS. Maybe this tweet would be the one that made America great again. \n\n\"The death spiral with disastrous Obamacare- continues\" I typed with my tiny hands. Surely this would be the tweet that turned it all around.",
"From the day I first sat at the lab bench, they reminded me: Most pharmaceutical scientists never see a drug through to approval. It was a cautionary note to dampen youthful ambition and to sustain it after years of failure.\n\nFriends loved to compare my work to buying a lottery ticket. \"Ben,\" they'd yell from across the street, \"Getting closer to hitting that jackpot?\" They meant well. Mostly lawyers and hedge-fund managers, they had little capacity to relate to my work.\n\nBut I hadn't been buying lottery tickets over the past five years. I had been wagering all that I had on a single hand: Compound LRX873. I was cautious even after its surprising synthesis and early-stage approval. Though in my first few years with Clapford Pharmaceuticals, I knew enough to know that those initial wins could be infinitely far away from final approval.\n\nWhat would they name it? I let myself wonder. For once, the fine print of the glossy Clapford ads would have meaning---the generic name that traced directly to my discovery in the lab.\n\nYear 4 was a big year. We had moved through the first of three clinical stages and begun the second, a light-speed progression in the decade-long effort. We existed in timelines few understood. There would be champagne toasts just for reaching a clinical trial, which held little promise of end-of-line production.\n\nMuch of the day-to-day work had passed to our legal team and top-level scientists, whose expertise in the FDA process was of more value than my research acumen.\n\nWe ran into trouble in Year 5. Even the 10 mg dose was causing debilitating side effects in longitudinal studies. The FDA would not tolerate that, even for a drug that promised to reduce rejection substantially for liver transplants.\n\nI tried to look for answers in the data.\n\nThen I tried to create them.\n\nIt was clumsy. I suggested, in vain, that no one with my background---with my scientific precision---would be so stupid.\n\nIt didn't matter now. I sat back in the kitchen chair, slouching to keep the afternoon sun from harassing my eyes. I was tired. I reached out to the table, grabbed my glass, and finished the last few ounces of water.\n\nThe empty container of LRX873 would be sufficient, I thought, to help the authorities piece together my final moments."
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[WP] You wake up, clutching your chest. You try to tell yourself it was only a dream, but then you notice it...
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" The dream was just... insane, but I guess it wasn't truly a dream. I dreamed some woman was trying to get me to kiss her but I told her I didn't want to be with anybody since I just didn't want to... I also told her my body didn't help because I was just ugly and overall unpleasant. She said she could help and ran her fingers along her chest, she added that she was the goddess of beauty... well fertility, beauty, protector of starting adults, she liked giving eternal youth and had a thing for blood. I didn't believe her but looked around and I was where I fell asleep, so I said yes and asked her to give me beauty.\n\n She smiled then made spikes form on her finger tips and and stabbed my chest, it hurt so bad but I woke up opening my eyes and sitting up fast clutching my chest. Everything was off though, I felt long hair and my chest felt soft. Looking down I screamed when I saw I was grabbing a female chest and my hair was long, strait, and dark brown. I had a grey shirt on and there was four blood spots on the chest, checking \"down there\" also showed my body had changed. \n\n I stood up and ran to the bathroom feeling my long hair moving with the breeze I was making, nearly tripping I grabbed the sink to stop myself and looked in the mirror. I was shorter but could see my face and chest and I looked like Nina Dobrev... I thought she meant a guy but... she made me into this. I looked around the apartment and clothes had changed to fit my new form, it was like she changed the universe around to make me born this way. Checking on everything else in the apartment I saw it all was the same, games and music were all the same on my phone and I had the same systems and game props. \n\n I was so confused but decided to see what... something was like while in this form so I went to my bedroom and... had fun. Afterwards I took a shower to wash the blood spots off my chest and got some clothes on after, some skate shoes, jeans, a slim fitting black v-neck t-shirt and a grey flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I left and just walked around my city, got some food, and went back home after about an hour. It was overall an interesting but... kinda fun day, I was wondering about the woman from the dream though. \n\n It's been a month now and I found some things out, I'm immortal... she gave me eternal beauty and she visits me every night to have fun with her since she can't go into the physical world for some reason. That time of the month sucked but she... likes blood... I won't go into detail but it's weird, I didn't say anything though since she's powerful. She says I can't age but damage will still kill me and when I do die I get to go to a place that's beautiful. I also always smell good, I have magic sweat that once the scent enters someone's smell receptors they smell their favorite smell.\n\n Overall this isn't so bad, I didn't like relationships before but I'm slowly getting attached to the woman... even if I wasn't she's powerful so I wouldn't end things... even though some nights I have scratches on my back and various spots like my leg or arm. I don't like those mornings... but there's not much I can do without losing this new life, she did say she'd try not to scratch as much though. "
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[WP] After a werewolf epidemic most of the US has been turned into giant game reserves where humans are prey. But man is still the most dangerous game.
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"The end was drawing closer.\n\nHis eyes scanned the dark woods, looking for any sign of movement. The beasts were out there. They had smelt him after he had caught his finger on a tin of tuna.\n\"Never could open those damn tins...\" he muttered to himself. \nHe heard the snapping of a twig, and he dropped to the floor, head swivelled round, almost like he was one of them. Behind him, rustling noises could be heard.\n\nThis was the end.\n\nSurvival instincts kicked into overdrive. Adrenaline surged through his arteries, pumped through the body via his racing heart, as he swallowed, leapt up, and flew forward as a speeding silver bullet might do so when heading towards one of the things heart's. If only he had one of those now. \nToo late to think like that. His mind wandered, not taking in where he was running. He instinctively knew where to go, and he trusted these primal instincts. He could hear behind him the crashing of a body thrashing through the foliage and undergrowth, batting branches and twigs and leaves out of its path to glory. It's eyes were bloodshot and dilated, focused on nothing but it's prey.\n\nThis was the end of the path.\n\nHe turned and stopped. Finally, he could end this chase that he had lead for 3 days. He turned around. The silver, bulky brute pounded towards him on all fours, drool trailing from its bared canines in streaks. He stood up and offered himself to the beast.\nA snap was heard, and an improvised bear trap snapped shut around the mongrels hind leg, tampered with so that it would shut close with force enough to entirely sever the leg. The werewolf crashed snout first into the soil, tumbled over, and came sliding to a whimpering halt in front of him. It began to grow smaller, and the fur started to shed. He had seen enough. The man didn't need to suffer. He took his hunting knife, and slit the savages throat in one fluid movement. \n\nThe chase had ended, and man had won as it always had. He smiled. He had outwitted the beast. The terror among them. He was a champion. He was a survivor. He was a man, and man was the most dangerous game there was. He was-\n\n\nIt was as if a beam of pure burning sunlight had burst through his chest. Only it was red, and glistening. He felt his body fall forwards. He saw the grass grow bigger and bigger, and caress his face, then it all went black.\n\nFrom above, as the gurgling in his ears drowned all essence of the noises of the forest out, he could make out the click of some mechanical device. \n\"Fuckin' animal. Probably.\"\n"
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[WP] You keep repeating the same day of your life. Every time you wake up, it's the same morning of the same day.
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"I got dressed, I drank my coffee, I went off to work. Once I got to work, I said ‘hi’ to Cassidy, who was a lady that worked in the office with me. Then, I waved to my boss, who snickered at me.\n\nAfter work, I hung out with my buddies. We had a couple beers and we witnessed a bar fight. Some of my friends cheered, I just watched it all unfold.\n\nThat all happened yesterday.\n\nI woke up today, got dressed, drank my coffee. Went to work. You know, the usual. I said ‘hi’ to Cassidy again and waved at my boss.\n\nI didn’t realize something was wrong until I saw the same bar fight occur that night. The exact same fight.\n\nThe big, muscular guy glassed the other man. The other man tackled him and he punched him a couple times. The muscular man got on top of him and started beating the living hell out of the guy. Then the police showed up. Both men were cuffed.\n\nIt all happened in the same fashion.\n\nI went back to my place and slept.\n\nWoke up again.\n\nWent through work as usual. And I was back at that same bar.\n\nAnd it happened over and over again.\n\nI started saying different things to Cassidy, trying to strike up a conversation. It eventually worked and we chatted it up for a while. One day, I managed to get her out of the office. We chilled out back and she took a drag of her cigarette.\n\n“Hey,” Cassidy said. “You never said anything but ‘hi’ until today. How come?”\n\n“Oh, did I?” I said. Of course, I wasn’t about to tell her that I was living the same day indefinitely.\n\nCassidy brushed her blond hair back and looked at me.\n\n“Hey uh, do you wanna—you know?”\n\n“What?”\n\n“Go out—sometime.”\n\n“Yeah, sure, I guess.”\n\nSo we went out to some restaurant. We ate and had a good time. Before we parted ways, she wrote her number on a napkin. I ended up staying at the restaurant for a couple more minutes, cheering. Pretty sure everyone just stared at me awkwardly.\n\nSo I went back to sleep, again. And I woke up, assuming that I was going to live that same damn day over.\n\nBut I reached in my pocket and felt the napkin inside. Guess not."
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[WP] What is the meaning of success?
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"JimBobBoBubba doesn't know how to answer his college application question so he posts it to /r/WritingPrompts. Someone writes a flawless definition filled with emotion and action and beautiful prose. Astounded at the high quality, JimBobBoBubba sends a slightly-construed version of it to his college, and gets accepted. He goes on to become the first dragonfly-breeding president of the United States, but under intense scrutiny some of his enemies dig up the /r/WritingPrompts thread. Embarrassed of his shameful action, he steps down from his throne and takes the first plane to Russia. There, he is mugged by a nameless hooligan and stabbed three times in the stomach.",
"Success is getting punched in the face and smiling while asking for more. Life is going to hit one harder than they could possibly imagine. Situations at the worst possible instances will occur and the seemingly impossible happening. It is a guaranteed fact that Murphy's law will be in affect your entire life, so be prepared. All of this is no reason to not try and grasp it however.\n\nIn my short experience in life, I have discovered that success is not necessarily measured in diplomas or certificates of recognition. It is the satisfaction that one receives after the fact. If one can find a course of life that fills them with pride and accomplishment while doing right by others, that is success."
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[WP] Nicolas Cage finds out Liam Neeson's daughter is a National Treasure
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"*phone rings...Nic picks up right away\n\nNC: \"Talk to me.\"\n\nLN: \"I *know* who you are, most movie buffs do...and most of *them* complain that you're a dull and wooden actor. Yet, many of the films you've starred-in have been remarkably successful. Sure, you're probably as nice a guy as you're purported to be. Oddly, you'll continue to be offered roles and no harm will continue as a result. But I'm going to find out why. \n\nAnd when I do, I just might call you again. And then I'm going to get your agent to take me on as a client. For now, it remains Unknown. But one way or another, I'll be Taken."
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[WP] Tell a sci-fi story using an in-universe medium (a news report, a magazine article, a documentary)
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"The great battle of Jounalano - Grave of the nameless sacrifices.\n\n30 years has passed since the decisive victory of the human against xenos alliance at Juhalo-IV, which stop the xenos thrust toward Earth and started what was known was the 'Miracle of Juhalo'. We all know about the battle of Jounalano itself, from records and survivor from both sides but many didn't know about the what happened before the battle and how it turn the odd against the xenos. And only now, 15 years after the war had end with human victory and countless sacrifices, we have a clear look into how millions of men and women owe their lives to 200.\n\nIn 15/11/4109 Earth day, the Survival War have rage on for 12 years, over a hundred planets and star systems had fall into the xenos hand after Operation Liquid, and their next step of the third great offensive was to seize the Juhalo system and its starport and factory, from which, they can launch their attack at Earth itself. On Juhalo-IV, the fighting was fierce, the xenos desperately want to gain control of its anti-spacecraft defense system (ASDS) so they can attack Juhalo-III along with the system biggest starport and factory which was still pumping out ships, tank, flying crafts and guns everyday directly to the battlefield. To do so they have amassed over 10 army groups numbering at least 25 millions to take over the planets or at least silence its ASDS. On our side, the planetary self defence force (PSDF) has received no manpower reinforcement from other planets for the last 4 months, their number was only over 15 millions capable of fighting. But thank to both the terrain and the defense line which was designed by First Rank Marshal Bagration Zhukov, the PSDF managed to held on despite the xenos have gain air-water superiority on most of the planet. But the xenos have a plan. They have found a location where the human defense was thin, where they can thrust deep into the line and threaten to surround Army Front Jounalano North and South, Alfin Base. But to do so, they need to strike hard and fast, before the PSDF can mount a counter offensive to seal the hole. The PSDF have try to hide this information of the base, which was largely unfinished by the time the planet become a warzone and resource was needed to elsewhere to stop the planet from getting overrun. Because the Luzton Offensive is still going on halfway across the planet, the PSDF was force to dedicated most of its force their after the disaster in Kaloika. However, good news were coming. Marshal Zhukov have just defeat the xenos in Loiljan system and is pushing toward Ajoipmarin system, threatening to cut off the xenos supply line to Juhalo while High Admiral Spruance just defeat the xenos Grand Fleet besieging Majiol system, allowing the fresh force of 20 millions under command of Marshal Xin to be deploy to where they are needed. \n\nSo the xenos want the Juhalo for themselves, and desperately at that. So they arrange the best strike group they could make, 107th Air Assault division 'Bloodbath Raptor' and 690th Mechanic division 'Grinder' was chosen to lead the attack. Both were Veteran division and was equipped with the best the xenos have to offfer. They was to overrun the outpost of the base, then capture the base itself so the main force with 2 Army Groups worth of power would push through the gap and surround the defender. If they succeed, Juhalo-IV is as good as lost. The PSDF know that the xenos was to organize a great offensive, but where the offensive aimed as was unknown, so they gather all they can spare and organized a mobile army to reach and plug-in any holes that the attack may cause, but to do so, they need to get there in time. The xenos were well aware and create a lot of diversion moves, one of which manage to lure the mobile army far away from Alfin Base. At the point of the attack, Alfin Base only have 1000 troops station there along with 200 station in Outpost Kaelia. Victory was almost certain for the xenos.\n\nOn the midnight of the fateful day, the xenos attack begin, their Air Assault drop pod was undetected entering the atmosphere, landing behind the outpost and Alfin base. There they cut off all communication between the 2, and the Mechanic division started their assault. What was supposed to be an easy attack was met with heavy resistance. Even when outnumbered 30 to 1 by the enemy, the men and women of the outpost fight on with courage unmatched by other. The Air Assault force was getting 'ambushed time after time by the homo sapiens, each time we reach one of their fire point, there was nothing but dozen of timed grenades and explosive. And when we thought that it were safe, booby traps would set off. My company captain turned into a mess of flesh and bones when he accidentally triggered one. After 5 hours of constant search and kill, we managed to confirm at most 5 kills while our injured and dead already exceed 100. The place was definitely prepared for our approach, unlike our reports' - record of an Air Assault troop participated in the strike.\n\nThe Raptor was force to slow down their attack, reorganised their force and wait for the Mechanic division before making any more attack. But even the Mechanic division with Armored Fighting Vehicle (AFV) and Tactical Battlesuits was having trouble reaching the outpost. They too was getting ambushed and boobies trapped. Their AFV and battlesuit was getting destroyed by anti-armored fire with 'pinpoint accuracy. The devastation of their attack make everyone think that we were attack by another division, but after we take their accuracy into thought, we knew that we are only fighting at most 50-80 enemy.' - Calain Julapoz of the 690th. \n\nAfter an intensed night of fighting, the outpost manage to inflicted 400 casualties on the xenos force while only having 18 confirmed casualties. The xenos consider calling for airstrike, which would break the secrecy of the entire operation and may not be able to push through the small gap or continue without it. Both division agreed not to call in air support and mount a coordinate attack in the afternoon. At the same time, Alfin Base was having a small skirmish with Air Assault troop behind the base but was unable to relay the information to HQ or the outpost because their line of communication was jammed. The only way for them to send the message was to travel to nearest base which was 60km away, and through enemy interception. So in a risky move, 700 troops was to break through the Air Assault numbering over 1300 while less than 300 was to hold the base. Was the outpost force get overrun, the enemy can surround Alfin base and the breakthrough result would not matter.\n\nFor the next 3 days, the 2 division launch dozen of attack at the outpost. At first the resistance was fierce, but soon, ammo and supply run low. After the xenos manage to clear the forest on the outpost left flank and resupply the Air Assault division, the outpost was constantly under artillery and rocket fire. But none surrender, the garrison fought on. When the xenos took the outpost, they retreat to the forest can continue to harass the enemy, buying more time. At this point, they were using scavenged weapon they could find, some even use makeshift bow and spear. In one occasion, a group of Air Assault was ambushed by a garrison squad with spear, and only managed to fend them off after reinforcement come. By the time the resistance was terminated, over a week have passed. The breakthrough failed, and now Alfin Base is under sieged. But at this point, HQ had notice that the base had gone silence too long and diverse mobile army over there. After the scout party engage Air Assault trooper, the bulk of the mobile army manage to relived the base. \n\nAfter the failed effort to take Alfin Base, the xenos decided to attack it with the force it deplyed there. The battle then was known as the great battle of Jounalano, where xenos force almost overrun the lighter equipped part of mobile force, before being forced to a stand still and eventual retreat when reinforcement of Marshal Xin arrive and push through the exhausted enemy.\n\nWithout the brave 200 men and women of the outpost and their forgotten sacrificed, Jounalano may have never happen, and we may have lost. We forgot about their existences until today. From now on, we will remember them, the hero of the Federation. \n\nLest we forget.",
"5/15/2018\n\n How did you like your vacation?\n Rather well! Waiting in LAX to get the next flight home! Have a cab ready for me?\n Okay! :)\n Plane's been delayed, no explanation.\n News just mentioned a complete travel ban! What's going on?!\n Huge explosion in Queens. Not a terrorist attack, it's too big.\n Military all over the place.\n Where's your brother?\n Jack?!\n\n5/16/2018\n\n Sorry, the phone masts were shut down when the quarantine went up. Some buddies set up a satellite hack.\n Geoff got past the security zone this morning. They said he was \"Clean\", or WTF that means.\n He got in contact with me. He's heading to Lindsay's place in Ohio.\n What about you?\n Didn't get to the checkpoint before they blew up the bridge.\n Dad... People are getting sick.\n\n5/19/2018\n\n Did you see that broadcast?\n Of course I did. I knew that people were turning into other creatures but... aliens?\n Get to somewhere safe. Whatever is turning people into aliens, you can't get it.\n They'll kill you if they catch you.\n I started turning yesterday.\n Dad, I'm turning into a lizard and there's no stopping it.\n Then get to somewhere that you can't be lynched.\n Why would I be lynched? Most of the survivors are turned and the true aliens will retaliate if the army nukes us.\n Got to go. I'm the de-facto \"Leader\" in here and the aliens are calling parlay.\n\n5/21/2018\n\n So, you met with the aliens?\n How did it go?\n Cut the shit, Moira. I know you've arrested my dad.\n There's a webcam in his room. I saw everything!\n You know what we want.\n And the answer's no. I don't like the Draks any more than you do, but I will ask for their help in hunting you down.\n I have your brother, your sister and your father. You have no idea where I am.\n\n6 hours later.\n\n Moira?\n Willing to listen to reason?\n No. Just letting you know I'm outside your office.\n Are you really dumb enough to bluff? I can see outside my door.\n Not the \"Community Garden\" in Wisconsin. I'm talking about in Langley.\n Check the news.\n YOU ATTACKED THE CIA?!\n You have a really uncomfortable chair.\n What *was* the CIA doing in New York? Aren't you foreign intelligence?\n\n5/25/2018\n\n Don't think I'll be using this number for much longer. Can you come over to get the new number?\n Dad, I can't ask Dunkelzhan to fly me across states to learn your new number!\n I'm just scared that Moira tapped my phone.\n I'm now part of Earth's ambassador corps to the Draks and I'm rather busy.\n I've got the weekend off. I'll drive up and meet you all.\n It'll be the first time I've seen you since...\n Hey, at least I'm not nearly as fat as before.\n I'll bring you a pork shoulder to smoke.\n Looking forward to it, Jack.",
"News on the 9's.\n\n*We are at war scrolls across the top and bottom of the screen*\n\n\"This is Megan O'Connor, News 9. Reports have just arrived that there has been hostile contact between our forces and those of an unknown force. The Outpost known as Ares-3 has been captured or destroyed\"\n\n*A brief pause and the newswoman face shows confusion*\n\n\"Ares-3 has been destroyed. We have just gotten footage of the base detonation. Nearly a million men were based there. Current casualties are unknown\"\n\n\nSet in a universe created in a different prompt, here's a link to it: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6bsfk3/wp_today_aliens_transmitted_a_single_message_to/",
" John Miller @millertyme 9 hours ago\n This is fucking terrifying #NotAnEclipse #Blackout #WTF\n 5 replies 2.3K retweets 744 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 9 hours ago\n @katemuse11 holy fuck be safe :( Call me when you get there if there’s service\n 1 reply 0 retweets 0 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 10 hours ago\n @katemuse11 are you guys okay???\n 1 reply 0 retweets 0 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 10 hours ago\n LRT HOLY SHIT #NotAnEclipse #WTF #Blackout\n 210 replies 4.2K retweets 904 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 10 hours ago\n @katemuse11 @NASA @CDCgov WTF IS THAT \n 0 replies 200 retweets 560 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 10 hours ago\n @jophur_ that is scary as fuck dude. be safe\n 0 reply 0 retweets 1 like\n \n John Miller @millertyme 10 hours ago\n @jophur_ They won’t let us go to our cars. Some kind of emergency rule. We’re not supposed to have phones on\n 1 reply 0 retweets 1 like\n \n John Miller @millertyme 10 hours ago\n @jophur_ I literally just got service back. We can’t leave. National Guard blocked off all of Piedmont\n 1 reply 0 retweets 2 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 10 hours ago\n Tweeting from the basement. We’re in some kind of lockdown. Our VP said there’s a statewide emergency #NotAnEclipse #Blackout\n 1 reply 0 retweets 2 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 11 hours ago\n It’s still pitch black outside and now the tornado sirens are going off???? #WTF #NotAnEclipse\n 35 replies 74 retweets 102 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 12 hours ago\n @jophur_ Holy shit is that a plane?\n 1 reply 0 retweets 1 like\n \n John Miller @millertyme 12 hours ago\n LRT uhhh so why would a solar eclipse happen 2 days before its supposed to... #wtf #solareclipse #NASA \n 0 replies 5 retweets 6 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 12 hours ago\n @jophur_ it's completely dark, can't see shit lmao\n 0 replies 0 retweets 1 like\n \n John Miller @millertyme 12 hours ago\n @jophur_ Trying to take a pic from our window but the network is so slow it won’t upload\n 0 replies 0 retweets 1 like\n \n John Miller @millertyme 12 hours ago\n @jophur_ No but there’s a few guys out in the parking lot trying to take pics of it\n 1 reply 0 retweets 1 like\n \n John Miller @millertyme 12 hours ago\n @jophur_ Uh lol what\n 1 reply 0 retweets 2 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 12 hours ago\n @jophur_ My coworker said we were supposed to have one this week. It just got hella dark outside the office lol\n 1 reply 0 retweets 0 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 12 hours ago\n There’s a total solar eclipse today? Don’t those only happen once every 100 years? #solareclipse #NASA\n 1 reply 2 retweets 3 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 13 hours ago\n Just saw like 8 humvees go down Piedmont\n 0 replies 0 retweets 1 like\n \n John Miller @millertyme 14 hours ago\n @katemuse11 cool :) I’ll get tickets\n 0 replies 0 retweets 1 like\n \n John Miller @millertyme 14 hours ago\n @katemuse11 you wanna do Sunday? Could see if AMC has a matinee\n 1 reply 0 retweets 1 like\n \n John Miller @millertyme 14 hours ago\n Really need to get around to seeing GotG2, anyone free this weekend?\n 1 reply 0 retweets 3 likes\n \n John Miller @millertyme 15 hours ago\n TMW all your meetings after lunch were cancelled #GonnaBeAGoodThursday\n 0 replies 0 retweets 3 likes\n \n",
"2-1 Air Defense Artillery \nDaily Intelligence summary\n\nMar 27 2018 - 0001 (Three utopians engaged USF, in Watertown NY, with SAF and spells resulting in 184 CIV KIA, 3829 CIV WIA, 53 USF KIA and 483 USF WIA)\n\nMar 27 2018 - 0101 (Three utopians engaged Fort Drum NY with SAF and spells resulting in 294 USF KIA, 2473 USF WIA and 1 Utopian KIA)\n\nMar 27 2018 - 0356 (Two utopians fled Fort Drum NY were found in Watertown USF engaged with Two Apaches and four Abram tanks resulting in two fallen angels, 4 destroyed tanks, 48 USF KIA and 355 USF WIA)\n\nMar 27 2018 - 0958 (One utopian teleported into Fort Drum HQ SCIF stealing multiple TS hard drives. MP's trapped the utopian inside resulting in 1 Utopian KIA, 28 USF KIA and 183 USF WIA)\n\nMar 27 2018 - 1259 (1 utopians confirmed shapeshifter type. Assassinated the CG of Fort Drum NY at Division HQ 2nd floor. Multiple tomahawk missiles targeted HQ resulting in 1 Utopian WIA 1 USF KIA)\n\nMar 27 2018 - 1593 (USF withdrawal. 1 Utopian engaged 1 USF Utopian in unknown attacks resulting in 1 Utopian KIA)\n\nMar 27 2018 - 2358 (Three utopians engaged USF with SAF and spells in Baltimore City resulting in 253 CIV KIA and 2752 CIV WIA)"
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[WP] The date is May 27th, 2017. As you're relaxing at home, you hear a knock at your front door. When you answer the door, you see a middle-aged Mr. Rogers smiling at you. He says with a smile "Hello neighbor... you are the chosen one."...
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"\"Stop.\"\n\n\"Sorry, neighbour. What do you mean, stop?\" He asks with his caring smile.\n\n\"Stop trying to tell me that I am some sort of Chosen One, or about some sort of prophecy.\" I say using as much disdain as i can muster for the words *Chosen One* and *Prophecy*.\n\n\"Oh, so you know about the prophecy as well.\" He says chirpily.\n\n\"No. Shut up. Stop talking, I don't want to hear it.\" I say slamming the door in his face.\n\n\"But you need to know...\" He starts to call out.\n\n*I can't believe I want to swear at Mr Rogers!* I think to myself in annoyance. I put my hands on my ears, while I look about my house. I need my keys, phone and wallet.\n\nI look around as best as I can, but it very difficult to balance when you are blocking your ears so you can't hear anyone.\n\nMy keys are on the kitchen counter. I yell out that I don't want to hear any more about being the chosen one for anything, as I grab my keys and shove them in my pocket.\n\nMy wallet is in my room, along with my phone. As I reach for my wallet, I notice my phone vibrating. Pocketing my wallet with one hand, I grab my phone with the other and look at the number. **Unknown Number calling.**\n\n\"Hello?\" I ask.\n\n\"Good, you answered. You need to hear this-\" Mr Rogers started before I hung up on him.\n\nI pocket my phone, noting that it was fairly well charged while doing so. It buzzes in my pocket, but I don't care. I can't hear Mr Rogers outside so he must be calling me.\n\nCarefully, I sneak through my house to the garage, then I remember the car is being serviced. My mind whirls as I try to figure out a plan. Any plan. Hopefully one that doesn't involve me decking Mr Rogers.\n\nThere is a bus stop nearby. I burst through the front door, shoving Mr Rogers over to buy me more time to get away.\n\nI am NOT being the Chosen One and any prophecy involving me can fight a dragon for all I care. My feet pound the pavement, as I race to the bus stop.\n\n\"Neighbour, wait up!\" He calls out.\n\nA bus arrives, and I am thankful for the timing. Jumping on, I pay the fare and pray he doesn't make it. Glancing back, I am relieved to see him run to my front yard and wave at me.\n\n\"Hey, is that Mr Rogers?\" Someone gasps.\n\nI pointedly refuse to answer the question. The net few bus stops, my heart fills with dread at the thought of Mr Rogers cornering me on the bus. Explaining why I am running from him, like a kidnap victim from their captor would be awkward.\n\nTwenty minutes later, I make it to a shopping centre. Perfect. Lots of people, lots of places to hide. I breathe a sigh of relief, and head to the food court to grab a bite to eat. One footlong later, I grab a seat which gives me optimum coverage of the foodcourt and dig in.\n\n\"Hey Neighbour, I almost lost you!\" He says with his caring smile, as he slides into the seat next to me.\n\nA loud roar of anger erupts from the onlookers, as I deck Mr Rogers. I wolf down one more bite and race off again, barreling through the good samaritans who try to slow me down.\n\nI make it through the crowd somehow when I am bodily tackled by security.\n\n\"Sir, you need to calm down!\" I hear a voice growl.\n\nIt's the guy that tackled me.\n\n\"Arrest me. I hit Mr Rogers. Please, call the cops and arrest me!\" I beg desperately.\n\n\"Why would you hit such a nice old man?\" The security officer asks as he hauls me to my feet.\n\n\"You wouldn't believe me if I told you.\" I mutter.\n\n\"Come along, we will take you to our security office.\" He says as he pulls me along.\n\n\"You can apologize to Mr Rogers there.\"\n\nAnger fills me faster than I am proud of. I lift the officer who weighs at least 220 pounds of muscle, by his neck and pin him against the wall.\n\n\"Put me in a room with that man, and his blood will not be the only one I spill.\"\n\nI drop the man, and he carefully escorts my 100 pounds of muscle to the security office. Glancing back, I can see Mr Rogers placating the onlookers, while they take selfies and speak with their hero.\n\nWhat could've given me the biggest headstart, is now being wasted. Typical.\n\nThe security office is moderately sized, I glance the room of cameras as someone goes through a shift change, or coffee run. I sit at the desk, and pray for the cops to arrive.\n\n\"So why did you hit nice Mr Rogers?\" The officer asks quietly.\n\n\"He forces me to do things i don't want to.\" I answer, before realizing the disturbing subtext. \"No, nothing like that. But he gives me... tasks that I just won't do anymore and he can't ask anyone else. All I want is a few years of peace, instead of being burdened with the responsibility he shoves onto me every month or so.\" I explain, keeping things vague.\n\nThere is a knock at the office door, and I glance over. I see two police officers, with Mr Rogers behind them, smiling in his comforting way as always.\n\n\"No. No. Keep that man away from me!\" I shriek. I run to the furthest corner of the office away from him.\n\nThe two police officers rush over, and Mr Rogers just looks at me with his smile. The security officer walks over and speaks with Mr Rogers.\n\n\"Sir, is it true that you punched Mr Rogers?\" The officer asks.\n\n\"Yes, I assaulted him. Arrest me, please.\" I plead.\n\n\"Well, even though there are lots of witnesses, Mr Rogers refuses to press charges, all he would like is an apology, which we cannot force you to do legally, but, C'mon. It's Mr Rogers.\"\n\nI am not entirely sure what happened. But all I know is there was screaming, blood, and I am being cuffed and dragged away.\n\nI smile at Mr Rogers, who looks slightly hurt by whatever action I did.\n\nThe booking process is when I find out that I assaulted the two officers, and threatened to kill them. I felt like the luckiest man in the world. I had that feeling right until I sat in my cell.\n\n\"Hello neighbour.\" Came the soft voice.\n\nMr Rogers stepped out of the shadows, his smile still plastered on his face. No signs of damage. He exhudes an aura of calm.\n\n\"Please, no. I am so tired of these tasks. I can't have a family, my friends are all dead because of those tasks you set me on. I can barely keep up with the world. All I want, sir, is some rest to myself. I really don't want to be the Chosen One again.\" I say, dropping to my knees, crying.\n\nFor centuries, I have been tasked by Mr Rogers to be the Chosen One. A world, or a universe is in danger, and I am the one the universe seems to turn to. Mr Rogers is my handler. He tells me I am the Chosen One, and he gives me my tasks. I can be gone for years at a time, and when I return, the world changes so much. I feel like a child that has no idea what is happening most of the time.\n\n\"I know, son. But this should be the last for a while now. The multiverse is almost in order. This will be the biggest, but it could earn you a few decades of peace when you finish.\" He says calmly, like a father explaining a rainbow to his son.\n\n\"Decades of peace?\" I whisper in hope.\n\n\"Yes.\" He says with his smile."
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[WP] An alien, a time-traveler and an Eldritch Horror all live in the same house.
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"*thump thump thump* \nDarren stood on the porch of 1312 Leng Terrace, one hand in his pocket, the other rapping on the large, wooden door. From what he could tell, this neighborhood was pretty nice. Trees lined the sidewalks, half of their leaves shades of bright orange and deep red as the crisp air of fall rustled through them. The cars along the street were all in nice condition, and he thought he'd even seen a park a couple blocks back. All things considered, he had started to have pretty high hopes for this place as he'd driven here. \n\nBut, now that he'd actually arrived, he wasn't so sure. The Victorian house had clearly once been quite lovely, but that day had long past. A war with the forces of wood rot, creeper plants, and weathering had left the front of the house with a distressingly sagging porch, and brick and stonework that, if not covered in vines, was dusted with a dark grey filth. As he looked around the cigarette butt-strewn porch and the untamed wilds of the front yard, his lip briefly curled into an involuntary sneer. He was deciding if he should just leave before anyone knew he had been here when he heard hurried footsteps and the door swung open.\n\n\"Hello there!\" Said the strangest dressed man Darren had ever seen, \"What can I do ya for?\" Darren stared for a beat, then remembered why he was here and stuck out his hand. \n \n\"Hi, I'm Darren McDonnell. I'm here about the ad you put out looking for a sub-letter for the year?\"\n\"Ah yes, happy day! I'm Cornelius Zapparelli, pleased to meet you!\" said the man as he put the end of an occupied cigarette holder in his mouth and thrust his hand into Darren's, moving from a simple handshake into a complex fist-bump/palm slap that Darren was powerless to try and reciprocate. \"Learned that from a man in New New Hampshire, pretty neat, huh?\"\n\n\"Uh, yeah. New New Hampshire?\"\n\n\"Follow me my boy!\" Cornelius bellowed as he spun on his heel and strode into the house, leaving the door swinging open behind him. Darren followed, and as he did, he began to take in what Cornelius was wearing: a dark brown waistcoat with a shining golden pocket-watch chain, over a cream-colored blouse with lacey frill that encircled his neck. Below that he was wearing blue and green vertically striped corduroy bell-bottomed pants that flared out over the tops of a pair of stunningly clean Timberlands. The outfit was topped off by a shining-black top hat, on the brim of which were a pair of what Darren could only assume to be sunglasses, but the strangely shifting iridescent visor was no form of polarized glass he had ever seen before.\n\n\"This house has been in my family for ages,\" said Cornelius, his voice echoing through the cavernous house, \"but I'm leaving for a year or so on a trip and I need someone to take up my portion of the rent. Can't be busy dealing with funds and monetary worries while I take in the wonders of 24th century China, now can I?\" \n\n\"I suppose not.\" said Darren, only half-catching what Cornelius was saying as his gaze moved from the attire of the man in front of him to the rest of the house itself. It stretched farther back than it appeared to from the street, and the small foyer opened into a room with 30-foot high ceilings and a long hallway on the far side, which itself seemed to have at least a dozen other rooms and hallways branching off from it before sharply turning to the right. \n\nThe walls were completely covered in paintings and posters. In the spaces not covered by works from Renoir, Monet, Pollock, and many others Darren didn't recognize, there were posters of old black and white movies or concerts for Dr. Dre, Janis Joplin, The Beatles, and MGMT. Tribal pottery and weaponry from who-knows-where adorned tables and mantles. A metal sculpture that seemed to *glow black* stood in the center of a sitting room, giving off a slow pulse that Darren could feel in his chest as he passed it. As he tried to take it all in, his thought process was cut short.\n\nIn one of the first rooms of the hallway, through a slightly opened door, he saw a small... duck? It was standing on a table, looking at a book. Well, maybe it wasn't a duck. Darren wasn't quite sure what he was looking at. Cornelius kept on walking, orating to Darren as he went, but Darren had stopped, and was now slowly walking towards the door. \n\nThrough the crack, he could see what appeared to be a small, long-bodied bird. But it had three feet (one in the front and two in the back) and its head was the size of a softball, with no beak, eyes, nor feathers to speak of. He furrowed his brow, letting a quiet \"What the?\" escape from his lips. The creature turned around.\n\n<<Hey! Dicknut! The hell you doin?!>> ",
"Stephen fumbled his keys as he frantically tried to open the door. He yanked the door open only to be greeted with a cloud of smoke.\n\n\"Ayy, bro, wassup?\"\n\n\"Will you put that damn thing out?\"\n\n\"Sorry bro, you shoulda told be before I lit up.\"\n\n\"Goddammit Xayden, why did I have to get stuck with an alien from a planet covered in weed?\"\n\n\"Ayy, lmao. You should visit sometime, it's super chill.\"\n\n\"Can't you take anything seriously? We have a problem. Crt'druh'ghral is missing. I've searched everywhen and I can't find... him? Her? I've never been sure if it even *has* a gender. Anyway, it's gone, and-\"\n\n\"Chill out bro, I just saw it a few minutes ago... or hours... or days. I dunno, I'm hella stoned right now.\"\n\nJust then Stephen heard a guttural moan from the billowing cloud of smoke. A head, something like a sabertooth tiger with a rhino horn and covered in scales, poked out. The creature opened its mouth and spoke, if you want to call it speaking.\n\n*I, Crt'druh'ghral, Behemoth of the Eldest Lands, Mover of Mountains, He Who Ruptures Continents, have been lost in the smoke clouds of this UFO fuckhead.*"
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[WP] Three guys get drunk at a bar and each wake up in Mexico for a different reason.
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"Richard wakes up slumped over hay next to a bunch of pecking chickens that jam their beaks into his face. He shouts out and scatters away from the chickens only to see them chasing him. Roaring incessantly for a couple of minutes tires him and the chickens out. He sits down, defeated, and lies his head down on the muddy ground with his eyes closed, chickens exploring his body. \n\nThat is, until a shadow rises over him. Richard opens his eyes.\n\n\"Dinero,\" the woman says. Richard raises an eyebrow.\n\n\"Talk in English you stupid woman,\" he says back to her, still intoxicated enough to not use his brain.\n\n\"Dinero. Dame tu dinero,\" she repeats and he remains confused. \"I want money bitch,\" she spits on his face.\n\nRichard sits up and wipes his face with an outcry. \"The fuck's wrong with you?\"\n\n\"Money,\" the woman reminds him. Behind, a man he recognises comes from a shed-like building a couple of metres away. Richard knows he's from the bar.\n\n\"Hey, where the fuck are we?\" he asks. The man smiles.\n\n\"Mexico,\" he yawns and stretches his arms. \"We're in Mexico, my friend,\" he rubs his hands together, \"and you owe me a lot of fucking money,\" he walks forward. Richard can just sense he's in deep shit.\n\n\n\nMeanwhile, Richard's friend, Alex, finds himself tied up to a post in a strange part of some desert town. He can tell it isn't American or someone would have reported it to the police. No, he is screwed and he is painfully aware of it. He sees a biker racing over the sand and bumps in the dry road and tries to cry out but is far too weak. The biker stops anyway.\n\n\"You awake, huh? Hijo de puta. Te cogiste a mi hermana. I make you pay,\" he says and gets back on his bike.\n\n\"Hey man, why you doing this to me?\" Alex cries out. He's still too drunk in the heat. \"I just wanna go home,\" he says as the biker disappears back the way he came.",
"\"What the - ooooh!\" One groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head. He felt a knot.\n\nTwo woke up in the passenger seat, with the same headache. \"Who hit me with a sledgehammer?\" \n\nThey both looked around for Three. \n\nHe was in the trunk, dead. \n\n\"Oh yeah!\" Two remembered. \"We came here to dump the body!\""
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[WP] You're a pacifist who has been drafted into a brutal war against the other side of the world, you have only one objective, kill or be killed.
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"I urged, I pleaded, *I begged them*, to send me anywhere else, the soup kitchens, doctor assistance, tank maintenance, just anywhere; *anywhere but the front lines.*\n \nThe war was for the same reason as every other war in humankind’s history. Greed, it didn’t matter what reason they put up on the newspapers or told the media to say. This war wasn’t any different. Except it was. To me, anyways. I thought the nation I lived in was better than some of the other warlike nations. They accepted volunteers for moderately bloodless conflicts sure, but to call for a draft? That hadn’t been done for a very long time. I tried to wrap my head around the reasoning. Everywhere I looked there seemed to be the answers, but they weren’t really. \n \n*“Their government is corrupt!”*\n \n*“Their people are criminals”*\n \n*“They don’t contribute to society”*\n \nAny reason I heard was something that could’ve been solved in the courts, an international court. We had one, why weren’t we using it? Humanity’s greed. Always driving us forward. Despite our technological achievements, despite the strides we’ve made, and despite the good we’ve done. It just seems like just tools for waging bigger and bloodier wars. But you can’t argue with the government. \n \nI thought about running away for a long time, the thought never really stopped even when I was in boot camp. I thought about shooting myself in the foot, or getting in a car accident on my way to work. But I couldn’t. I never even owned a gun, where could I get one is such short notice? I couldn’t just run away from this, my friends; my life was still here, I wanted to call that cute girl I always ran into at during my coffee breaks. A car accident could hurt someone else. I could be blamed, I didn’t have the money to afford something like that. Inaction turned the cogs on the machine until it was too late to do anything else than just to report to the boot camp. I’d be tracked down by the government if I didn’t show. I wanted so badly to believe that my country was different, that it was fighting this fight for the right reasons, instead of just it’s greed. \n \nBoot camp wasn’t anything special. I learned how firearms worked, despite my pleading. I couldn’t go home and it’s not like I knew how to escape a military installation, getting caught would just be worse. I resolved when I got to the front lines to empty my gun secretly. To prevent any sort of killing on my part.\n \nWhen we got there, in a camp just a couple miles away from the fight, I could hear the gunfire and smell the smoke from artillery fire. I barely ate anything and did not sleep that night, I was scared for what I might be made to do the next morning. When we awoke, we were ushered into our formations before the sunlight had even begun to peak over the horizon. I was organized into a squad of 9 other men. Our squad leader was named Hendrickson. Hendrickson told us that we were going in a Humvee to secure a town not far from here. It was, according to him, supposed to be a light job with minimal enemies. \n \nThe whole way there I was sweating. Not just from the desert heat, which I had never known before, but from the sheer terror of having to face a firefight. It was this terror that made me forget to unload my gun and so when we arrived, I had no choice than to take my rifle with live ammunition in it. We exited the Humvee and made our way quickly to the side of the building where we were split into two. Allie would take the other 4 soldiers and secure the northernmost building while me, Hendrickson and the others would go to the south. The hope was that we could sandwich the little forces the enemy had and force them to surrender. Which sounded like I might be able to get through this. \n \nMy hope was quickly drained when I heard the pops of gunfire as we made our way to the center of the town. I heard someone let out a loud\n“Shit!”\nWe all dropped to the ground, me against a destroyed brick wall. I turned around to see one of our soldiers on the ground, with another pressing his hand hard against his chest. Hendrickson ordered me to provide cover fire while the rest attempted to move the soldier to a more secured position in one of the buildings. I turned my gun and shakily rested it on the top of the brick wall and peeked my head over. There was one man. Covered in a sort of gharb I had only seen in movies and TV shows. He shouted a language I didn’t understand. I tried to force myself that I had to do this. That if I didn’t pull the trigger. He would run at me and kill me, possibly my commander and the other soldiers. \n \nMy finger slowly started to pull back the trigger, and I closed my eyes tight as I prepared to shoot the rifle. \n \nAs I finally gained the courage to do what I believed had to be done, my rifle was knocked out of my hands and the butt of another gun slammed into my head. I was thrown backwards and I opened my eyes to see one of the men aiming a gun right at me. I gave a weak \n \n“I’m sorry!”\n \nBefore I heard another pop, not from the man’s gun. But from a pistol behind me. It was Hendrickson. \n \nI saw the man in front of my drop to the ground, as if the plug had been pulled on his legs. He didn’t move. Hendrickson got in front of me and offered his hand, he pulled me up and ushered my to the building where the others were. \n \nI was in disbelief. Back there I had seen another person’s life extinguished in a single moment. That man probably believed we were evil. Sent by an evil government to rob him of his life or his family. He thought he was right in doing what had to be done. Everything he fought for. \n \nNow, he was gone. \n \nAnd my hell was just beginning.\n \n \n"
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[WP] You are an archaeologist that set out on an expedition to Alaska and you stumble upon an ancient civilization trapped in a huge ice dome.
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"The most interesting thing about the Ice City had to have been the livestock. \n\nMultiple species of seals, Arctic birds, reindeer, and fox were sold in the market places. Apparently the animals that had been trapped within the dome had quickly become domesticated as food dwindled.\n\nChildren carried brindle colored fox cubs through the street as others herded a moose through the streets. \n\nHowever, the cutest animals had to have been the seal pups, their skin painted with mud and big eyes wide. ",
"My name is Yukoni. I have lived in the City of Voll all my life. Like my parents, and my grandparents, and back over a hundred generations, I have never left this city. I was born under The Dome. \n\nThe Dome protects us. Thats what the Priests have always said. The Dome is the Hand of God. A benevolent shield built by The Creator himself to shelter his chosen people. To keep out the Evils of the World of Decay.\n\nI never cared for church. I stopped going over three years ago, when I turned fifteen. It broke my mother's heart. She had always wanted me to be a Maiden Priestess, as all good little girls in Voll are supposed to do.\nBut I couldn't do it.\n\nThe truth is, I never believed in The Dome.\n\nWell, I mean I know it's real. You can see it, touch it. It's as real as the obsidian that The Builders use for every home in the city. What I mean is I don't believe its the work of some mysterious deity. I don't believe in 'The World of Decay' outside. I don't believe in 'The Barbarians of Murder' who supposedly drove our ancestors into the ice all those centuries ago.\n\nTo me, The Dome was nothing more than a prison cell. A cage for rats. And all the people here were just a bunch of captured animals.\n\nNobody had ever left The Dome. Not for hundreds of years. So how did we really know what was out there? How did The Priests claim to know so many details of 'The Decay'? And if there is a God, why would He trap His 'Chosen People'? Why not lead them to fight?.. Or something. Fighting is only in history books in Voll, but I think I know the basics of what its all about.\n\nI always dreamed of seeing the world beyond The Dome. \n\nOf course, I never told anyone that. Not even my parents. The Law on such talk is clear. The punishment, severe.\n\nSo I've lived here my whole life. Every day just like the other. Never anything changing in The City of Voll.\n\nBut all that would change today.\n\nThe whole city fled to churches. People were crying, holding their families, hoping for The Priests to conjur up some miracle to save them from 'The Day of The Comings'. THe Priests were just as scared as anyone else, though. They couldn't stop what was happening.\n\nI must've been the only one in the whole city who wasn't afraid. I was excited!\n\nStill, My parents had dragged me to our local Church. I just wanted to go to the City limits, see the cracks for myself.\n\nIt would turn out I didn't need to.\n\nThe crash was loud enough to hear, even from inside our church near the city center.\n\nThey had broken through. \n\nThe 'World of Decay' had broken through.\n\nThe outside world had found us. \n\nMy name is Yukoni. I have lived in the City of Voll my whole life. But today, I will at last learn what lies beyond this city!",
"As I walked in and saw it, my jaw dropped in amazement, and a tear formed in my eye. It was beautiful. And it was new. I could already tell that this was not a civilization that had been previously discovered. Inside the ice dome, there were buildings, beautiful buildings, made out of something I had never thought buildings could be made out of. They looked unlike anything I had ever seen, with a weird marbled mix of being shiny black, and sleek, like the matte paint of a car. It couldn't be, but I knew it was. The buildings were made out of meteorites. \n\nAs I walked further into the dome I saw more and more buildings, a small village, all made out of the same beautiful marbled meteorites. As my entourage walked into the dome behind me, my awe was replaced by professionalism. I immediately began to split people up to explore the buildings, and we located the center of town.\n\nThere were buildings arranged in a pentagon, all facing one building. It couldn't be though. We were in Alaska. No one had ever discovered this before, and I had never even heard of any stories about buildings build out of meteorites. But it was a church. Completely and undeniably a Christian church. My professionalism was once again replaced by awe, and I began to wander forward towards the church, which had to be almost 6000 miles away from where Christianity was known to have existed in the ancient world. \n\nThe constant excited questions that often buzzed through my brain during a new discovery were not there at this moment. I just continued to walk towards the church, while butterflies flew through my stomach and my heart threatened to pound out of my chest. As I walked up the stairs, I glanced back at the men and women I had sent out to explore, all of whom were staring with the same look of amazement I realized must be in my own eyes. Turning back to the door the ancient building, made out of marbles meteorites, I placed a hand against the door and slowly began to push."
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[WP]Zeus goes a bit mad and crafts an orb that fits in the hand. This orb carries the weight of the world in the hands of its carrier. He decides to go to the humans in disguise and give the orb to many men. This orb breaks the spine of hundreds, until Zeus found a man who can hold it.
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"An intense feel of hatred, resentment and wrath blinded Zeus's mind as he crafted the orb that hold the weight of the world. *Life nor intelligence was enough for them, they always want more and if they dont have it, the blame is on us. It's time to show them the burden that we carry for eternity\"* Thought Zeus as thunders came out of his fiery, white eyes.\n\nZeus itself descendend into the unholy, mortal ground giving every single man who ever accused him for the mistakes they made in their lifes. None was strong enough to hold it let alone to carry it. Their spines broke and their tears were spilled.\n\nZeus wasn't satisfied, the void inside him wasn't filling and his wrath was about to be unleashed. He disguised a crippled old man wearing pearl-white robes. Suddenly, a woman whose features looked sculpted by Michelangelo itself draw his attention. \n\n\"Lady! Could you please hold this for me?\" Said Zeus.\n\nThe woman grabbed the orb and held it like if it was a feather. Zeus was speechless but he knew something was wrong, he looked straight into her blue eyes and smirk drew in his face.\n\n\"Hera, you fooled me. What are you doing here\" He asked.\n\n\"Someone had to stop you, you were about to kill every single human being\" She said and sat on his lap.\n\n\"They blame us for their mistakes, they are greedy arrogans who can't deal with their burden. I am punishing them as they deserve\" Replied Zeus while his eyes and hair slowly turned white.\n\n\"Punishment, suffering, that's all you always do. They had enough, go back to Mount Olympus. Now, its an order\"\n\n\"Since when do you protect them? You didn't protect Paris when he chose Aphrodita over you\" \n\n\"It was different, go back to Mount Olympus I wont say it again\" Hera grabbed his arm and constricted it with greath strength\n\n\"You may be my wife, Queen of the Olympus but I am the strongest of all, so leave right now and let me do my teaching or my wrath will fall upon you, Hera. I have many nymphs to satisfy me, I don't need you\" Zeus's true form revealed as he said that, the sky turned black and lightnings struck around Hera.\n\nHera didn't say a word, she revealed her true form too, grabbed Zeus and took him into their bedroom in the Olympus. \n\n\"You are going to do what with other nymphs?\" Hera said and put herself on top of Zeus.\n\n\"You can't imagine what I will do to them\"\n\nHera grabbed Zeus by the throath, asfixiating him. \"I love when you talk dirty\"\n\nWitnesses behind the closed marble doors described that encounter as one of the scariest and most intense scenes they have ever heard. \n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIf you enjoyed my response please consider checking /r/chasisoxidado for more!\n\nP.s: I don't really know too much about mythology so I might have made some mistakes but anyway I hope you enjoy it!",
"Chuck Norris grasped the orb, staring longingly into it's milky-grey mass. He wondered what it was made of, and decided that it would make a good addition to his collection so he climbed the long flight of stairs and returned to his third story apartment.\n\nHe kicked open the door, and tossed the orb onto the table with the others. \"I wonder why the gods keep giving me things?\" he thought. \"It's almost like they want something in return.\" He sat on his couch, and thought back to when he was a child. \"You're meant for great things, Chucky.\" his father had said. \"If you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything.\"\n\nThat was the day his father had introduced him to the sport of martial arts. He remembered with a fondness how happy he had been when he won his first duel, a fight to the death with 12 heavily armed and highly trained assassins. He was only 4, but he still remembered the feeling he got when he had finished killing them. He was happy, and, more importantly hungry. He lit a fire, pulled out his machete, and began skinning the corpses of the assassins to roast over the flame. He ate well that day, and that was when he discovered his love for the taste of human flesh.\n\nFinally, it hit him. \"Of course, it was Hades!\" he exclaimed. He had finally remembered; he now knew why the gods had been giving him gifts. On the night of his first match, as he feasted on the corpses of his opponent, Hades had visited him, and had told him this: \"Over the course of your life, you will be given 4 things: a sword, a shield, a part in a mediocre CBS show about cowboys, and an orb. Once you have received your fourth and final gift, the orb, you will go to sleep, and when you wake up you will be with me in the underworld, forever a slave to me, the god of the underworld.\"\n\nChuck smiled, a gleeful smile because his life would now be complete. He would be achieving his lifelong goal: to become such a feared fighter that he would get to work for the god of ~~death~~ the underworld himself. He closed his eyes, and slowly drifted off to sleep."
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[WP] You are a character in a multiplayer game/board game/D&D, and you get increasingly frustrated with your player for their bad gameplay/dumb decisions.
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"Do you know how bloated you feel after eating sixteen wheels of cheese in one sitting? I do. \nI also know that the feeling of dairy products wreaking revenge on your insides for the domestication of animals is *nothing* compared to the burning exhaustion after running across an entire country after being awake for thirty-six hours. Or the indescribable agony of dying a thousand deaths, only to be ressurected to die again. Or the roiling hatred you develop for whichever cruel God has decided to dominate and puppet you today. \n \nNo, compared to that, eating sixteen cheesewheels is a picnic. The dairy dash is a delight when compared to having your (soon to be) corpse thrown at an enemy again and again and again until through blind luck you succeed. \n \nWhatever sins I commited in life, they could not possibly warrant this tortuous hell I live in. I just pray that when the God that delights in my suffering dies, they too are sent here."
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[WP] His knife was sharp, but her claws were sharper.
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"C5-32 was a planet that not many ventured. One hundred rotations around the sun had come and gone, but Lt. Greg Houser had seen no sign of a rescue at the extraction point. One hundred days and his worst fears were becoming more and more true. His crew were all dead or missing, he had become skeleton like due to low rations. The old and decaying man had carefully and meticulously rationed out all of his food and water to last him one hundred days and made sure he had enough gas to make it to the extraction point. They didn't show up and now he was going to die.\n\n\nGreg was never going to see his wife of 30 years or his family again. He was never going to see his boat or the lake or his '67 Mustang. And he was never going to experience life like he wanted to all because he was greedy and wanted that promised three million.\n\n\nInstead he was stuck on a planet that was not his own in an ancient looking temple that was not his home in a spandex suit that barely fit him. It was starting to get darker out and Greg needed to find a place to sleep for the night; not that he was going to get much of it thinking about where he went wrong and if he could've done anything different in his life.\n\nHe found a cave that was barely exposed to the surface and climbed down into it, his automatic light coming to life on his spandex suit. It was quiet and damp, only a few rays of light shining through holes on the ceiling. As he continued to walk, the lieutenant made sure his hand was against his knife on his hip. God forbid he runs into anything that could pose a threat to his being after everything else he had been through.\n\n\nAnd sure enough, like clockwork, a low and bone chilling growl came from three different directions further into the dark. Greg ignored it and pressed on, going down one of the passages. No more than fifty steps had been taken before another, but much closer, growl sounded- this time from right behind him. Slowly turning around, Greg drew his knife and watched as two glowing red eyes stepped slowly toward him; a monster emerging from the shadows.\n\n\nThe beast stood roughly seven feet tall and was covered in matted and thinning red and brown and black fur and scales, red eyes peering straight into Greg Houser's soul. It was a Dusk Walker, nocturnal alien beings that had been long time occupants of C5-32 before humans even discovered the earth-like planet. They came out at night and hunted much of the land, humans only recently being added to the menu. The monsters resided in the darkened caves and caverns of the planet and built entire colonies for reproduction. Some even seemed as smart as humans.\n\n\nThis particular Dusk Walker was a female, judging by the obviously pregnant belly it was carrying. It looked pissed off and hungry and before Greg could even think the word death, the beast lunged at him and pinned him down, growling and chattering at him. It's sharp teeth showed and drool started seeping out of its lips, Greg guessing he looked like a delicious- and spandex wearing- meal. He grabbed his knife and dug it into the Dusk Walker's neck, a blood curdling howl of agony sounding from the beast. Bad idea, Greg.\n\n\nIn a swift motion, the Dusk Walker raised it's bear-like paw and extracted its claws, swiping Greg across the chest and down to his hip bones. This caused Greg to yell, the pain unlike anything he had ever felt before in his entire life. His knife was sharp, but her claws were sharper.\n\n\nJust as he felt the poison that secreted from Dusk Walker's claws course through his veins, he heard the all too familiar sound of a spacecraft landing- his extraction had finally showed up.\n\n\nBut it was too late.\n\n\nLt. Greg Houser of the Hercules Space Exploration Team, succumbed to C5-32.",
"Gordon lay his knife on the table, his jaw left agape. He'd never seen someone fillet a fish so skillfully in his life. Though he'd heard rumors of an incredible, cat-like chef, he could not have imagined on this day that he would walk into Hell's Kitchen and meet a girl with the eyes, ears, fangs and even claws of a feline. She was one of six genetically engineered humans created in a Japanese laboratory. To be more specific, she was one of six surviving genetically engineered humans created in a Japanese laboratory.\n\nJapan sought to appeal to their growing and most perverse market in a horrific way; they wanted to engineer actual \"catgirls\", and sell them for a profit. After countless failures and immeasurable controversy, four years ago, they had finally succeeded. Six of the experimental humans were able to survive artificial birth, and were bought by an eccentric American citizen who raised them as his own children and set them free to the world at the tender age of 18, just as any loving-but-in-dire-need-of-some-alone-time parent would.\n\nThis is the story of just one of those children, Anetta Wallace or, as her online fans refer to her, \"Mewlia Dean\". She aspired from early childhood to become the greatest chef the world had ever seen after eating what she has only ever described as 'the perfect salmon'. She wants to share the joy she felt eating that incredible entree with the world. To do that, she knew she'd have to become big. She needed attention. She needed the spotlight. She needed to become a star.\n\nThe plan was simple: Get noticed. She already had the skills, she just needed to know the right people. She reached out to every celebrity she could think of, until finally, she was contacted by Guy Fieri. After she took him on a trip to the ritzy part of flavortown and blew his tastebuds right out of the water. From that day on, he couldn't shut up about her, and this caught the attention of a few executives, people with the influence and power to make her small dream into a big reality. Many were hailing her as the best chef of all time, a natural grandmaster of the delicate arts of cooking. Though some would attribute this to her feline distinctions, she knew in her heart it was because she wanted it more than anything.\n\nA few strings were pulled, a few names got thrown around, and somehow she found herself live, on national television - in a cooking competition against the legendary Gordan Ramsay himself. Self-absorbed as he was, Gordon elected to host the event in his very own Hell's Kitchen. Before the contestants met, she was allowed to choose the dish and she knew she could only choose the very dish that started it all - Grilled salmon. Simple, effective, and requiring great skill to truly bring to perfection.\n\nThough Gordon accepted, he couldn't have imagined he'd lost the war before the battle had even begun. The two contestants approached their respective preparation areas, and after a quick meet-and-greet, they each moved to prepare their meal. Before them, a raw salmon, unscaled and ready. Gordon was confident; he'd cooked many salmon in his time, and in many different ways. He would seek to recreate his famous Teriyaki Salmon dish, a tried-and-true favorite of the people.\n\nHis opponent had no famous recipe, no attributed... what the hell am I typing right now. This is dumb. She cooked some kick-ass fish and beat him. The end.",
"“After the break we’ll talk to our special guest.”\nChef Mario Batali had been on TV a long time with 6 different TV shows on the Food Network along with a multitude of online programs. However, what he would be doing after the break on this show gave him pause. Somehow researchers at the National Feline Institute had given a cat the abilities of a gourmet chef by repeatedly showing it Pixar’s Ratatouille. In the next segment of the show he would be cooking with one of the world’s leading feline cooks, Cupcake. \nMario had always believed in equal opportunity for everybody and didn’t have a hateful bone in his body. But this was too much. How on earth could cats cook. Mario had recently tried Fancy Feast and it was gross. Any species that thought that was food belonged nowhere near a kitchen.\n“Talent coming through.”\nMario whipped his head around and locked eyes with an oriental shorthair slinking her way over to the set. \n“I presume you are Cupcake.” Mario yelled out to her, attempting to be somewhat cordial.\n“Meow.”\nCats may now be able to open Michelin starred restaurants, but the basics of the English language still eluded them.\n“This can’t be sanitary,” Mario whispered to his producer incredulously.\n“She licked herself thoroughly before coming out.”\nMario could only shake his head in disapproval.\nThe cameras started whirring into action now as his producer gave him a signal, and they were off.”\n“Welcome back. I’m here with Cupcake whose new restaurant, Catfood, is opening this week in NYC. We’re going to be cooking one of her signature dishes, chilean sea bass in a white wine reduction.”\nMario glanced over to where Cupcake was already gutting the fish. Her claws were a blur as a spray of fish scales and fish blood covered her fur. \n“I am not eating that,” Mario muttered to himself.\nCupcake was already onto the next step now, dumping an entire bottle of Sauvignon Blanc into a pot on the stove to reduce it. \n“This cat’s gonna put us all out of business,” Mario thought to himself. \nAn inkling of an idea hatched in Mario’s head. “No, that’s crazy. You can’t. Quit thinking that way.”\nIt was at this point that he noticed his producer wildly flailing his arms, trying to get his attention. A jolt of embarrassment surged through him as he realized he had been staring down at his blue Crocs mumbling to himself for the past minute. \n“Sorry about that folks. Now Cupcake, can you tell me your inspiration for this dish?\nThe only reply was a soft purr from his interviewee. \nMario picked up a long, sharp knife laying on the counter, weighing its weight in each hand. \n“Just one swipe is all it would take. It would be like slicing through a tomato.”\nMario had a lot of experience killing animals. As a chef he had killed countless lobsters and clams for the sake of his cooking. How was this any different?\nThe cat had bounded up to the counter now and was lightly seasoning the fish. \nMario felt all of his inhibitions let go as he brought down the knife on his target. Cupcake shot out from under his strike, and his knife buried itself into the wooden counter with a thud. Mario hardly had time to reacquire his mark before he felt a searing pain in his throat. He touched his hand to the area and removed it to reveal it was completely red.\nBlood was now gushing down onto his fleece vest and staining his cargo shorts dark red. He felt woozy now and knelt to his knees. Seemingly thousands of cats now surrounded him, scratching at his eyes. As darkness crept in he had one final thought.\nHis knife was sharp but her claws were sharper.\n",
"It really makes sense that he was the brain, then, right? When you really look at them and think about it, she's got the blades, and he's got the plans.\n\nHave you ever contacted them? I heard that their services are quite expensive. It's more than worth it, though. They deliver death as much as they avoid it. People even say that they might have a deal with the crown... or the devil.\n\nBy the way, they've dissapeared again. They seem to be hunting someone. They were last seen at that inn that they seem to love. The... uh... Dragon's Nest? Something like that. That's like two days from here, around Myria. But I don't think you'll find them. When they are in the hunt, they're invisible. Go there and wait it out, they'll surely go there after this job.\n\nBut hey, you seem really interested in them, right? You even shivered once or twice as I talked. Is it that you need a job done? Or maybe... You are the job?\n\nHa! Boy, you're in trouble. I could even fight you for the bounty, but they'll get the drop on you in just a couple of days, i'm sure. And they sure don't like thieves. I'd rather not get in the way.\n\nYou hear that noise? That's not a delusion, young man, nor is it the wind. She must be right besides us, waiting to strike. And you can't outrun her or beat her in combat, but I heard that if you entertain her you might get a quicker one, you know?\n\nMaybe you should've stayed hidden, but maybe it's too late now.\n\n",
"His light swept across the oak paneled walls and thick, lush carpet. In the distance he could hear gunshots and the occasional scream, but in his corridor there was only silence and his heavy, careful tread. He grinned to himself and tightened his hold on the rifle. The children's rooms seemed unguarded, he could almost feel their young flesh in his hands... \nHis flashlight beam played over a small, delicately carved oak table with a framed photo displayed on it. The table was nestled in a small alcove recessed in the corridor wall, and the photo showed a smiling group of children posing near a lake. *I can't wait to meet some of you,* he thought to himself. *So many young, smiling faces...* \nA noise from across the hall caught his attention and he turned away from the picture. From behind a wood paneled door opposite him he thought he could hear muffled sobbing. He grinned, and approached the door. Bringing up his rifle in front of him, he slowly reached out and twisted the doorknob. \nOn the other side was a comfortably appointed room with bunk beds, posters, and a heavy leather couch. In the corner huddled a group of children, wearing pajamas and faces tight with fear. In the back of the group the man could see a young girl crying and being comforted by another child who couldn't have been more than a year older. She must be what he had heard out in the hall. \nThe man licked his lips and slowly lowered his rifle. *This is it.* He could feel his heart-beat speeding up, he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. He smiled at the children, and slowly reached across his chest and gripped the handle of his hunting knife. There was was silence in the room as he slowly lifted his knife and approached the small, silent group. \nFrom the front of the silent circle of children a figure stepped out to meet him. She was a small, skinny girl who couldn't have been more than twelve years old, and yet as she stepped towards him there was no fear in her eyes. \"Oh, am I going to enjoy this,\" he said, and licked the blade of his knife. She looked at him and slowly lowered her hands to her side, slightly outstretched with her palms facing towards him. \n\nShe slowly curled her fingers into fists. \n \n*SNIKT!*\n",
"Leo took a deep breath, trying to calm his trembling nerves. He looked at the knife in his hands, sharp and cold, and at the scratches down his arms, hot and throbbing.\n\nA low growl rumbled from around the corner. He could hear her, he knew she was there. Waiting. Watching. Looking for any sign that his guard had dropped for just a moment. \n\nHe dared to look round. \"Now, where are you?\" Leo could see nothing except the old couch by the window. Her claws had made deep gouges in the leather. \n\n*Fuck,* he thought. *Why does it have to be me?*\n\nThe growl sounded again, louder this time. He swallowed his fear, and in one fluid movement stepped out from his hiding place.\n\nImmediately, a pale streak shot out from beneath the couch and flew towards his face, screaming blue murder. He wrestled it to the ground, wincing as the claws dug into his skin, tearing over the previous scratches she had gouged. \n\n\"For fuck's sake, Mittens! I'm clipping your claws, not tearing your eyes out!\"\n\nThe ginger cat yowled in protest as he finally pinned her down. Leo scowled at her as he started clipping her claws. \"Honestly, I pick the bluntest knife just so I don't cut you, and you do this! Really, Mittens,\" he scolded, \"you're such a baby sometimes.\"\n\nHe ruffled her fur when he was done. \"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?\"\n\n\nThoughts? : D",
" Magic... sometimes it sucks and sometimes it's good, you know the phrase \"be careful what you wish for\"? Well I never believed it, nothing I wanted to happen ever happened... mainly the magical stuff like wanting a new life or something. I saw shooting stars before and made countless wishes at 11:11 and nothing ever changed until it worked... and I fucked up since I wasn't specific enough... I don't know how to feel though.\n\n I felt like going all out on November 11th even making a small fire in a bowl and writing \"I wish I had wolverines powers and it would be like I was born that way.\" So maybe it'd make things perfect for me. I waited until 11:11 and said the wish at the 11th second tossing the paper with lighter fluid on it in the fire. I said \"I wish I had wolverines powers and it would be like I was born that way.\" Exactly the same as the paper since I had rehearsed. Nothing happened... I was expecting that though so cleaned up the stuff and then I went to sleep on my couch after watching some YouTube. \n\n When I woke up things were odd, I was in a bed and everything felt different. When I looked down I was wearing a tank top that only reached a little over my belly button and I was wearing boxer briefs that showed off my body's new form... it was hourglass shaped and I started freaking out when I figured out what was going on. I got up and ran to the full length mirror that was now in my room and stared in it. I looked like the girl from Split... I even had scars on my wrist for some reason, I didn't have scars like that before.\n\n I remembered the wish and looked at my hand then clenched my fist. I felt pain going up my arm and when the claws came out I was screaming and holding my wrist, it hurt for a second longer and I got a few small drops of blood on the mirror but the claws were out so I looked at them. They shined with the light coming from my ceiling light, I looked at my other hand and feet and closed my eyes tight making all the other claws come out... I shed a tear and screamed in pain for a second. \n\n I was wearing ankle socks so the claws were going through them, I wondered why I was like this... female...so I wanted to look for answers. Making the claws go in hurt just as bad and I reacted the same... I thought I'd get used to it eventually though. The room I was in was kind of different, I still had game props and stuff like that but it was cleaner and there were no nerf guns made to look like \"Dead Space\" weapons. When I looked in the closet it was filled with clothes, jeans and skirts and stuff on a shelf, t-shirts on one side of the hanger part and flannel shirts and jackets on the other side. There were also a lot more shoes than the two I had before, maybe 12 but each one looked nice.\n\n I got on black and white leather converse with red laces, not too tight grey jeans with a tear in the left knee, a black Rolling Stones t-shirt, and a red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. I also had to get the stuff that went on under all that... it was awkward but I didn't look, I knew the actress I looked like was 20 something which was around how old I was before but I wasn't the actress right now and had one of those faces you couldn't tell the age of. Upon looking around the apartment more I found out I was 19 again which was only around 5 years younger so that was alright. \n\n That day I found out that I was a waitress with my parents living at a nice house while I got benefits for being a mutant which was weird. There were other mutants in this new world I was in and they weren't fully considered human... it was like those places the US owns but doesn't consider states. I couldn't vote and jobs didn't have to hire me since mutant rights weren't a thing yet... they were coming but not in yet, I could get benefits though so I had a monthly amount of money I had for my apartment. Anything else I had to get money from a job as a waitress... I wondered if the world changed around my wish or I just went to another universe. \n\n I basically looked online and I had unknowingly did a real spell... that could be done only once a year, I guess I didn't mind since I liked the powers... the body would take some getting used to but the powers were cool. It was strange that all the comics and movies existed though... I guess it was like what Logan said \"maybe a quarter of it happened... but not like this.\" Sorta like action movies with people but just fiction about mutants and super heroes... which none of those non mutant kind existed for real... though I think there was a guy trying to build an iron man suit.\n\n It was a few weeks in when I was walking alone to the Perkins near my house I worked at and it was night, I had to cover for some guy who didn't show up. A van pulled up and a big guy grabbed me and pulled me in the van, there were three guys and one had a gun while the other two had basically Rambo knives. I was at the back of the van and they were holding their weapons towards me, it was hard to stand with the car moving fast so I fell. While I was sliding back I put my claws through the floor to stay in place, at this point I had gotten used to it after training to not pay attention to the pain. \n\n When the van stopped after a while they tried to move me but I was still in the same place, they were confused but I jumped up and cut the guy with the guns neck... he was the one that tried to pull me just then. \"Come a little bit closer\" was playing on the radio when I kicked the second guy... down there... with the foot claw out. The man driving started driving again so I reached over and told him to stop while I had a claw to his throat, he just sped up and drove a while then stopped so I went through the windshield... he was in front of a gas station after all the driving. \n\n I stood up and people were looking at me as glass fell out of the closing wounds, I heard the engine rev and he tried to hit me so I jumped to the side and put the claws in the car on the side he was driving on. They cut the whole side of the car and when I looked there was blood on the edge of my claw, the people looked freaked out so I retracted them and I watched the car as it crashed into a telephone pole. There was a cop watching so he made me lay on the ground then his partner checked the car. They got my story and the drivers who had a good wound on his side. They believed me with all the kidnapping and... other supplies they had in the van so I wasn't charged with anything... lucky, since before there were cases where mutants got charged for defending themselves.\n\n It's been a month now and I'm used to it all... the body and everything, I spoke at the kidnapper's case and they even found out they kidnapped a ton of girls before. They hadn't kidnapped a mutant before though... the driver did survive and was charged with the other guys murders so he was gonna be away for a while. That was the good news... the bad news is people are afraid of me, I don't give a fuck though. The mutant laws passed and they tried to get me fired at the diner but so far I haven't done anything to be fired. \n\n Depending on how the year goes I may switch back or not... so far I want to stay cause I like the powers and I don't care if some people fear me. I can't drink for a few years but I'm fine with that too since I can't get drunk anyway. I can live with this all... probably."
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[WP] 100 years after the collapse of society you are of the last knights of knowledge. You protect one of the core sources of power. 75 years ago your family was tasked with protecting Books!
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"A pale sun rose in the east, its rays all but smothered by the dust that hung in the air as always. The light, still faintly orange, was barely enough to turn the dark, anonymous mass of the forest into a row of familiar trees. But soon Ibeya could make out the elongated shadow of the Gate against the ground, and it became time to admit to herself that another night had passed without the arrival of a messenger, like countless nights before it.\n\nAll night and her whole life she had been waiting for the messenger that her mother had promised, like she had promised so many things past, future and present - with absolute, almost religious conviction. That she herself had waited all her life and in vain for the messenger and the better future that his arrival would herald had not weakened her mother’s commitment at all. She had never missed a night’s watch for as long as Ibeya could remember. Ibeya's brother Kari, child of a moonless night, had been born in front of their house so his mother could keep an eye on the Gate.\n\nIbeya’s eyes were tired and burned a little but, accustomed to the time between dusk and dawn, she had not shut them even for one second. As usual, her incessant pacing had left a complex web of deep, dark lines in the red dirt that covered the road outside the small house at the edge of the woods. Sometimes her pacing led her almost to the Gate itself, but tonight she had stayed close to the house, reluctant to explore the darkness of a rainy, starless night. \n\nThe night had been as uneventful as it had been long, leaving Ibeya on the edge of frustration and with a faint yet familiar twinge of doubt lurking visibly from her sub-conscious. What bothered her most was that Kari was right again. Her brother had missed nearly all of his own night watches for many months now, forcing Ibeya to stay up night after night after fruitless night. Sometimes, when a storm raged, she was tempted to skip a watch, or at least watch the Gate from inside the house. But whenever she contemplated this, the memory of her mother became a strange and miserable kind of pain. And so Ibeya raged at her brother, even though she knew it was futile, accusing him of betraying the family. He sat silently, listening to her accusations, knowing she would, in the end, take his watch.\n\nIf she stopped yelling, or paused anyway, Kari would say there was no point in it all. He would try to sound calm and reasonable but Ibeya only saw and heard the spoilt child he had always been. Kari would tell her she was spending the night waiting for something that was but the loose end of one of their mother's dreams, haunting them even after she herself had passed. If she hadn’t stormed out by this point, he would quietly add that they had no way of knowing whether their mother’s stories were just stories, like the other people in town said. That it was reasonable to assume that the past was just like the present, dreary and simple and hard, and not the wonderful world of palaces that their mother whose existence a mere hundred years ago her mother had promised them so insistently.\n\nWhen they found the time to talk calmly about these things, Kari would say that the days themselves were long and hard, and that they both needed a good night’s sleep to get through them. After all, the fields would not till themselves, and only the strong arms of a well-rested, well-fed man could bludgeon the well into giving up what little precious water remained in the ground. Although he never said it, Ibeya knew that he wanted her to help more. She knew very well that all the work he did fed them reasonably well, but as long as she did not do her full share of work they would never be able to do more, despite the large plot her mother had left them. She could see in the way Kari looked at the barren field that his dreams revolved around planting a little more food and becoming a prosperous farmers. Compared to her mother’s dreams of rebuilding the glorious past, Kari’s dreams were small, but at least he was surrounded by hundreds of people sharing the same small, practical dream. Ibeya was all alone holding on to her mother’s implausibly large and lonely alternative. Kari thought of the past as something that would always be there, a depressing tale of riches that were so distant and unattainable that they might as well be fantasy. Tomorrow, on the other hand, would certainly be real, and if it was going to involve at least a little bit of food and drink then a series of specific tasks had to be completed today, while the sun shone – if you could call that pathetic light sunshine. It was a mystery to Ibeya exactly how her brother had inherited this intensely practical streak from their ethereal mother and the series of more or less insubstantial father figures – if you could call them that – that had marked the passage of their childhood and adolescence. \n\nSometimes Ibeya thought Kari was right. There was a kind of comfort in giving up, in the thought of joining the living in their very real present, and abandoning the distant past and promised future along with the memories of their mother and her tales. The messenger had not come, not once in their mother’s long lifetime, so it probably would not come to them either. \n\nMuch as she resented his refusal to share the watch with her at the end of a long night, Ibeya smiled at the thought of her brother’s firm attachment to all the things that she, almost as much as her mother, regarded as banalities. They were the Knights of Knowledge, Guardians of the Library, Keepers of Books. One of the chosen families. What difference did it make that the village elder should be this woman or that man. That her mother had never really been able to explain to them what a book was bothered Kari but not, for the most part, Ibeya, who marvelled at the mystery. Whatever they were, they had to be truly magical to fit into the tiny box her mother had entrusted them with.\n\nAs she sat down at the table in their tiny living room to eat the meal that Kari had left her, Ibeya held the box in her hand, turning it this way and that, as she often did. The size of her hand, rectangular and perfectly black apart from the scratches that covered every bit of its surface, it could not be opened. There was one tiny, silver gap on the side of rectangle, which had tiny teeth in it. A word had once been inscribed on it, but the letters had faded under the many scratches, leaving only a faint SUNG slightly to the right of the centre and a small but almost unscathed 100TB on what Ibeya thought was the back of the box. \n\nAs far as they knew, the box did not do anything, but Ibeya did not doubt her mother’s promise that it held all the lost world’s knowledge, and that one day a messenger would come to collect both the box and its owner, to take them to the last great city, from where the tiny box would be the beginning of an unimaginable future. \n\nAfter she finished eating, with her eyelids heavy as lead, Ibeya climbed into the attic and into her bed. Behind the curtain, she could hear Kari’s faint snore. She wrapped herself tightly into her blanket, the box tied securely to the inside of her thigh like her mother had shown her, and fell asleep instantly.",
"Rodran leaned back in his chair, his feet propped comfortably on the table, reading an old *Hardy Boys*. It was not nearly as fulfilling a read as some of the other classics, but Rodran was running out fiction he had not read at least once before. Plus, it was kind of quaint, how these little mysteries were considered 'adventures' back in the day. Back before the war of his great grandparent's day, which transformed the world to its current state.\n\nThe manors and estates that the Hardy Boys had frequented in their adventures were no more. Rodran's library was a testament to that. Cement walls in some places, others wood and brick were they had to be patched and re-patched after raids, furnishings that were old and worn, decayed practically to the point of losing its function. No one made things anymore, no one Rodran had ever met, at least. They just took from the scraps that remained of the old world, and those scraps broke down over time. Soon there would be nothing left.\n\nIt was ironic twist that at least a dozen books in Rodran's library could have told him how to make a new chair out of the wooden scraps, a new desk and dresser, perhaps a more comfortable bed. No one ever came for those books, though. And Rodran had more important duties to attend to. He had to maintain his wariness, and his skill, to protect this place. That was a full time job that allowed no other hobbies. Besides reading the occasional adventure book, anyway.\n\nHe perked up when a noise alerted him that he may need to fulfill one of those duties soon. The gravel on all sides of the library had been crushed into coarse rocks; even the stealthiest of thieves who tried to step across it would end up crunching a few and making a sound. Rodran put down his book and rose.\n\nRodran stood a full six and a half feet tall and possessed a sturdy frame, an imposing image made all the more impressive by the thick plates of armor he wore. Unlike everything else in the library, the armor shined as if it was brand new. As it should, as one of Rodran's sacred duties was the care of his armor. As was his sword, currently in its sheath and propped up against the desk. Rodran had read books about the knights of old times, in their sparkling mail and wielding their long lances, those whom his order had based themselves off of. Of course, he looked like a shallow imitation compared to the originals, his armor a few interwoven plates of steel to protect vital areas of his body as opposed to a full knightly suit, but he still considered them his kin. Picking up his sword, he quickly strode to the front of the building, towards the only entry.\n\nWell, the only entry unless the invaders decided to make a new one through one of the walls. But he would deal with that if the time came.\n\nThe sound of crunching gravel grew louder as the outsiders approached. Rodran estimated by the noise that there were four of them, and none of them tried to be stealthy. He walked a few steps to where a pair of binoculars were affixed to a small gap in the wall and examined the approach. If they appeared non-hostile, he would greet them and offer them shelter, as the code of his order dictated. Unfortunately, that did not seem to be the case. Three men walked towards the door with weapons drawn. One wielded a sword, not unlike Rodran's own, though likely in worse condition. The other had a more common weapon of the wasteland, a large bat with nails drilled into for added savagery.\n\nThe third would be the most dangerous. He had a weapon of the old world, an assault rifle, a deadly weapon capable of laying down a dozen knights. Rodran's armor offered him a considerable degree of protection against blades and clubs, but that gun would tear through it like paper. He had seen it happen before.\n\nThe last of the group was a small, hooded figure, who kept a good distance behind the others. Probably the leader of this band. And one with some amount of wealth, or what passed for wealth in the wastelands, if he was able to afford a rifle. Like all things made in the old world, the weapons had worn down over the years, many of them to a point that no amount of repair would get them working again. By Rodran's father's time, the fact that the order preferred to use swords for their duties no longer seemed a strange thing.\n\nThough Rodran was more than prepared to engage in a firefight if he had to. Tucked into a compartment on the rear of his armor was a small pistol, one that he performed meticulous upkeep on to ensure it would work should he need it. It was for emergencies only, though. He possessed a very limited supply of ammunition for the thing. Plus, using such a weapon seemed dishonorable and cowardly.\n\nHe stood to the side of the door and listened as the outsiders approached. Pressing his back against the wall, he controlled his breathing and brought himself into his warrior calm. They came with weapons drawn, and now he had a duty to fulfill.\n\nThe door burst open and the man with the assault rifle came in. He swept the room left to right, aiming down the barrel of his rifle, ready to fire at anything that moved. But he did not expect Rodran, right beside the door and in his blind spot. Rodran's sword was out of its sheath in the same smooth motion that brought it slashing across the invader's hand. The man screamed and somehow kept a hold of gun, but the angle of the barrel tipped far upwards and a few futile shots were fired into the library's ceiling. Rodran's blade flash again before the invader could react and pierced him deep in the shoulder. This time the man dropped the rifle, then slumped to the ground, clutching shoulder.\n\nThe other two were on Rodran by then, having charged to their wounded ally's aid. Rodran easily parried the sword swing of the first, then cut across to catch the bat a moment before it would have struck his head. The blade caught in between two of the nails sticking out of the bat, and with a twist Rodran was able to lock the blade in place. He gave a great tug and the bat went flying out of the invader's hand. The maneuver left Rodran's sword out of position, so he had to bring his armored shoulder in front of his to deflect the next sword strike aimed his way. The impact of the strike strung and caused his shoulder to go partially numb but the blade itself did not pierce through.\n\nRodran brought his sword back around in time to parry the next strike, and then the next. It became clear that whoever this was he was facing was no novice with the weapon, no minor bandit who simply chanced upon the blade. He had obviously practiced and knew some basic forms. However, he was nowhere near Rodran's equal. With a couple of precision strikes Rodran got around his opponent's defenses and scored vertical strikes on his chest. They were not deep, but were enough to cause him to stumble back. Rodran took the advantage to cut across once again, slicing his opponent's sword arm and causing him to drop the blade.\n\nHe saw movement below him and quickly brought his foot down to stomp on the hand of the former bat-wielder, who had made a dive for the rifle. The man cried out and struggled to free his hand, but only for the moment before the hilt of Rodran's sword impacted with his face and knocked him senseless.\n\n“That's enough!” a woman's voice called out. Rodran turned to the door to the see the final figure had entered into the library. The hood was down now, revealing a young woman with dirty red hair and a road weary face. She was pointing a pistol at him, and holding it steady enough that Rodran knew that she would likely only need one shot to end this.\n\nRodran slowly backed away from the invaders and dropped his sword's tip into the ground. He knew she had him dead-to-rights, and there was no way he could get to his own gun in time if she decided to fire.\n\n“Who are you?” the woman demanded.\n\n“I am Rodran Mariach, Knight of Knowledge, Protector of the Books,” he answered in an unwavering tone.\n\nThe woman's eyes went wide and she shook her head in disbelief. “That's impossible. All the Knights were killed in a raid ten years ago.”\n\n“Not all of them,” Rodran replied firmly. “I am all that remains.”\n\nThe woman shook her head again and holstered her weapon. “I'd say I doubt your story, if you hadn't just bested three of the best bodyguards to be found for a hundred miles around while hardly breaking a sweat.” She held her hands up and at her side and dipped her head low, a common wasteland sign of friendship and peace. “I apologize for our rude entrance. Our information is obviously lacking. I am Ariana Cadderly, and these are my bodyguards and traveling companions. We thought for sure bandits would have taken up in this place, as it was seemingly whole, and you can find bandits in every dark hole on this road. I never expected to find a Mariach still guarding this place.”\n\n“If you thought such, then why did you come?”\n\nShe looked into the library. “I seek a book, one that I hoped might have survived any looting this place had endured over the years. Truth be told, I felt there was little chance of success, but seeing you here, I have renewed hope.”\n\nRodran gave the woman a firm look, but saw no reason to doubt the story. She could have killed him if she had wanted to, but she had put her weapon away and given him the advantage. He nodded at her. “Tell me which book it is you are seeking and I will retrieve it for you. You may read it so long as you remain here, and take notes from it if you have brought your own paper. The book does not leave the building. Rooms will be made available for you if you intend to stay several days.”\n\nAriana's face brightened. “Thank you, Master Rodran. Your hospitality is most generous, and we are most undeserving, given our entrance.”\n\nContinued in reply because of post length ------->",
"\"Our cause is just!\"\n\n\"Your cause is foolish.\"\n\nMy father stood on the brink, sword in hand, fending off the Crow. That dark man clothed in tattered black robes advanced on my father, sword raised at throat level.\n\n\"We've surpassed the need for your archaic wisdom,\" the Crow said. \"Everything we need to know can be found in the world around us. The will to live, the need to survive. You would clutter our mind with the foolish words of dead men.\"\n\nMy father knocked the Crow's sword aside and moved away from the edge.\n\n\"Only a fool is unaware of his own ignorance. The knowledge in those books will save mankind. We will rise from the ashes! We will-\"\n\nThe Crow ducked quickly, almost too fast too see, and swiped my father's legs out from under him. Then he was upon him, beating him with his brass-laden fists. I was transfixed to the horrible image of my father's face turning to pulp. I hid in fear; I obeyed my father's command to stay put.\n\nThe Crow got up off my father and spit on him. He raised his arms and looked skyward as if to challenge the heavens. \n\n\"You see what your books bring you? In a moment your mind will end, and with it the precious words you have wasted your life reading. I will survive.\"\n\nHe dragged my father to the edge and pushed him over. I watched him fall. I didn't see him land. The Crow spat over the edge and descended the cliff.\n\n---\n\nEvery day I trained with the image of my father's death near at hand. I thought about the Crow's words - and ever did I read, refuting his words the only way I knew how. I would grow my knowledge, and my skill as a swordsman, and I would kill that bastard who discarded my father as if his life meant nothing. \n\nWe kept the books in a tower that rose to the heavens, narrow and high. Defense was only required at ground level. It was a long time ago that man lost the ability to fly, to attack from above. Our books rise toward the eternity that they would reveal, a Tower of Babylon that god will not render to rubble. There is no god. No god would abide a world like this.\n\nImagine a room one hundred feet across, a perfect circle. All along the walls are bookshelves that rise ever upward. A staircase winds along the bookcases all the way up, and stops off at each level where there is a platform that encircles the tower. There are hundreds of such levels.\n\nA fire would not take hold - the books are spread too thin. The room is too wide. There is no way to get to the top but to climb. The books are are arranged so that the most important ones are at the top. Even if our walls were breached, we would have a long time to stop them before they reached the Bible, the Quran, the philosophical treatises, the works of Locke, Hume, Nietzsche, Freud, the historical texts, the writings of the Greeks and Romans. It is my life to protect the knowledge bound in these pages. It is my duty to ensure the survival of books for what race may rise from the ashes of our foolish kind.\n\n---\n\nThe day has come to slay the Crow. I approach his slimy cavern, the dark depths where he wallows in pleasure and simple-mindedness with those he attracted to his eternal ignorance. I call for him. He appears in the mouth of the many caves that are like spider eyes on the hillside. His hordes appear behind him.\n\nWe meet in glorious battle like the epic tales of old. Our forces are well-met, but mine are disciplined, well-trained, precise. The Crow's army attacks by flailing, they advance by furious chaos. Our ranks hold firm.\n\nA noise from behind - an ambush. More of his filthy beasts descend on us from the forest, attacking our rear guard. This won't end well. I command the men to split and defend from both sides, but they are closing on our center. My men are falling too rapidly. I must cut the head off this beast before we die.\n\nI fight through the men, climb over the bodies, slipping in blood, until I am upon the Crow. Our eyes meet and he knows who I am.\n\nWe fight in the center of the chaos, metal clanging and men's voices clamoring around us. I don't notice when my last man falls. I don't see that I am surrounded by the hordes of ignorance who wait for their chief to kill me.\n\nHe lands a blow on my shoulder and my arm ceases to function. I stumble back and switch my sword to my other hand. The Crow advances, towering, black boots stepping indifferently over mangled bodies.\n\n\"Foolish boy,\" he says. \"You didn't learn, did you? A great...*irony*. Is that the word? It doesn't matter. You see that, don't you?\"\n\n\"You will never win,\" I retort. \"The light of knowledge will burn through the ages like a beacon. The books of old will rise to prominence, our children will...\"\n\nHis sword is through my stomach, it burns. \n\n\"I thought he'd never shut up,\" the Crow says. Laughter erupts from the horde.\n\nThe Crow kneels in front of me and rests his hand on the sword that impales me.\n\n\"I'm going to burn every last book in that precious tower of yours. And the world will finally be rid of your filth.\"\n\nHe stared into my eyes and twisted the sword. The pain spiked, then dulled, as the world became dark and the sound came to my ears in quieter waves, and as my last thoughts sputtered and flickered I remembered my son, and thought that he must... must...\n\n&nbsp;\n&nbsp;\n\n---\n\nSubscribe to /r/xilead for more"
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[WP] After a successful interview it's time for your first day as a god
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"¨Welcome Jared! Are you ready to start your first day!¨ She said. \n\n¨Sure am!¨ I said enthusiastically. Today was my first day working to get the humans back on track! This was actually the first time in the history of gods that they opened applications for humans who'd completed their lives on Earth. The prior gods were all beings from higher dimensions who of course felt they could properly direct humanity due to their superior knowledge of the universe. But when it comes to humans I can use this analogy I saw in a meme during one of my Earth lifetimes. ¨When you're playing chess with a pigeon, It doesn't matter if you win because regardless the pigeon is going to quack and shit all over the board¨ So the key then is not to outsmart the pigeon, but think like the pigeon. And this mindset is what got me the job.\n\n¨This will be your headquarters¨She said. ¨Archangel Michael and Uriel will both be here as your left and right hands to guide you through the basic processes¨\n\nI greeted my new generals and immediately asked to be left alone. I now needed to think. You see, the key idea is to save as much as humanity as you can, and bring them to the higher realms. Before humanity was a race, it was a single being that had reached the final realm of existence. For instance, it could have been at one point a race similar to humans. A unique identity. But the higher you go in the realms, the less you become of an individual. And the final choice to either enter pure nothingness and be without a consciousness. Make up the particles that us individuals play with, or... Take up a new responsibility to deliver more individuals to the final realm. Which can be done through birthing yourself as a new race. But of course not all the humans can make it to the final realm. However, all you need is that 2 make it, and you've doubled the number of beings that have achieved nothingness! So my job is to help as much of humanity pass this realm. Then it's up to someone else to deal with their shit.\n\n¨Michael! Come Here!¨ I yelled.\n\n¨Yes your holiness?¨ \n\n¨I want you to send humanity into chaos. Plague the food, destroy their current progressions with technology, and leave them to figure it out for themselves.¨\n\nMichael's face looked ill, which is odd seeing as he's immortal. \n\n¨I cannot do that my holiness¨ He replied.\n\n¨Michael, I am your God, and you will obey me¨ And he did. And for the next 40 years humanity suffered. But the goal here wasn't to have them suffer. It was to let the evil kill off the evil and the good help out the good. And in the event that the knowledge of how we should treat each other and ourselves remained. We would have a better humanity. If not, It would be like the last few times we tried this. But oh well, go big or go home!\n",
"\"So, this is your desk.\" She said, gesturing at the flimsy office chair sitting next to a large table divided into smaller sections. \"If you need anything or have any questions you can drop by my office down the hall, okay?\" \n\nNodding silently at her as she walked off, Clive took a seat and relaxed his body for the first time in what felt like days. He actually made it.\n\n\"Seems nice doesn't it?\" A voice said just as he closed his eyes. \"Don't worry though, shit won't last.\" \n\nStartling awake he turned to look at the woman next to him from whom the voice had originated. She was sketching out the design for some sort of cone shaped tower and looked so completely absorbed in his work that at first, Clive thought he was mistaken. But then she continued.\n\n\"Only seen the boss smile two times: the day I got here, and just now.\" She finally turned to look at him, impossibly dark eyes boring into his soul. \"And I've been here a while. So you can take that as you will.\" \n\n\"Uhm, I'm sorry,\" Clive said, still caught a bit off guard by the whole conversation. \"Do I know you or something?\" \n\nShe laughed, a loud cracking noise with a slight hint of tonality. \"Gods no, I'm just glad I'm not the bottom dog anymore.\" Smiling widely, she stretched out her arm for him to take. \"I'm Ellie,\" As he reached out to shake her hand a jolt of electricity jumped between them, stinging his fingertips. \"Goddess of electricity.\" \n\n\"Cool party trick,\" Clive mumbled under his breath, before retracting and slightly nursing his hand. \"I'm sure you are very popular at birthday parties.\" \n\n\"Ouch,\" She responded, wincing slightly. \"You're alright...\" She gestured at him and he told her his name. \"*Clive*, but you just watch. In a few hundred years I'll have more followers than you could ever dream of.\"\n\nThey laughed at that before she continued. \"So, what you got Clive? God of mud? God of sandals?\"\n\nHe beamed up slightly at that, smiling triumphantly at her. \"Hah, you wish. Kneel before the new god of the skies!\" He declared grandly.\n\nEllie looked dumbfounded for about a second before cracking up with laughter. Eventually, she managed to speak through the tears running down her cheek.\n\n\"Oh, my poor stomach.\" She wiped her face with her hand. \"You got cloud duty buddy, bottom of the barrel.\" \n\nShe laughed some more as Clive considered what she had just said. \"Cloud duty?\" He asked \"What does that mean?\" \n\n\"The sky is fucking empty Clive,\" She said, having gathered herself slightly. \"All there is to do is watch birds and draw in the clouds. Only reason you got this job is probably because the last guy either quit or drew very graphic imagery.\"\n\nClive leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling panels. Drawing clouds? Was that the god he would be?\n\nHaving calmed down, Ellie looked over and saw him staring off into the nonexistent distance. Taking a more serious tone, she placed a hand on his shoulder. \n\n\"Hey,\" She said in a comforting voice. \"Don't sweat it man, I'm sure you'll draw the best damn clouds they've ever seen.\" Grinning at him again she continued. \"Besides, maybe one day they will fly on electric wings in the sky and we can both laugh at the people who doubted us.\"\n\nSmiling back at her, he nodded, she nodded back, and they both went back to work. Among the drawings of clouds in different shapes and sizes there was one thing much larger than a bird that flew among them, and Clive smiled when he thought about it.\n"
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[WP] Most wizards learn an arsenal of spells for any occasion, you on the other hand only know one.
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"The lasting sting isn't so bad I guess compared to the odd taste of blood pooling in my lip. I'm not quite sure how you describe it, it has a definite unique taste. Then again there is this blunt pain coming again, really he has quite the good strike, though by all means I'm rathering he continue using his fist as opposed to say a fireball.\n\n\"You know, it's sad, to think that I have to call you a wizard like myself. You're pathetic, you're no wizard, you're a failed attempt.\" He's been spewing that stupid line over and over, with his stupidly annoying voice.\n\n\"You know you can't definitively say whether or not someone is or is not something unless you truly understand what something really is and isn't yourself.\" Wow, that sounded better before I said it. What pisses me off more is that the look on his face matches the way I feel about what I just said. \"Look I am a wizard, just because I only know one spell does not make me not a wizard. Knowing and being able to cast a spell makes you a wizard, besides every spell has a million and one uses you just have to master the spell.\"\n There it is again that blunt strike, he's gotten that down quite good apparently. He opened his mouth again and I could tell he wanted to speak so I figured I'd do so first, save myself that annoying voice. \n\"Hey at this point I think you should all be impressed I can talk this much with all this blood in my mouth.\" And again, you know I think I've decided. I think the feeling, the pain, right after his fist connects with my jaw, I think that's worse than the blood taste. I spit a large glob of blood out and it spattered across the floor, it was beginning to overflow a bit.\n\nHonestly I was getting quite bored, just badgering and repeated hits to the face; Jackass's annoying voice and worse is probably the guy just standing in the corner, staring, he's just creepy. I guess that means it's time to leave, hospitality here sucks and well time to find some entertainment. Creating a small pulse under the shackles my binds quickly exploded off. With a simple blast aimed toward the floor I got myself up to my feet. The fools in my cell were simple game using two simultaneous blasts behind them they flew into each other. Turning my hands to the cell door it quickly bent and crumbled beneath the pressure of my blast. Granted it was a bit awkward to step around, it just looked so much cooler being blown off it hinges.\n\nThe sound however did attract a lot of attention. A few too many to count, well to hard to count really, they were all bunched up filling the hall before me. I could feel my lips pull into a smile overcome with excitement, this is what I live for. \"Let's start this dance.\"\n\nGiving a large pulse behind myself I launched forward, one of my favorite tricks feels like I'm flying. The first attack was quick a small bolt of lightning, easily dealt with a small pulse from the side dodging me around it. I landed within grabbing distance and let out a massive shockwave toppling my enemies. Another bolt, this time I raised one foot and used a small multidirectional pulse under my planted foot spinning me around just barely avoiding the attack. Following up I placed my raised foot on the ground in front and spun around quickly raising my other foot and dropping it, heel down, quickly. I sent out a shockwave following my foot crushing the already toppled group. The ones at the back not toppled were now fiercely throwing spells, fireballs, ice spikes, arcane missiles; I quickly danced around them with spinning pulses and small powerful blasts from my hands to act as force fields to block.\nRealizing the urgency to end this fight I leapt forward again flying with a pulse. I grabbed the faces of two men on my way by and slammed them to the ground. I had perfectly placed myself in the center of the group. I could feel the twitching of my hands- pressed hard against those unfortunate men's faces- getting stronger, god I enjoyed this. Taking advantage of the surprise I caused I took a moment to prepare before releasing a massive pulse tossing my adversaries away like dolls and cracking the stone walls.\n\n\"Then I rose, standing tall amongst the broken bodies victorious. I had won...all while narrating it like a badass in my head.\" One of the men let out a wheezing cough and struggled to get up. \"Shit which one of you is still conscious? I just said that last bit out loud.\"\n\n The man stood bracing against the wall, his knees were shaking under the pressure of standing. I made way over to him and placed a hand on the wall by his head.\n\n\"A wizard is measured by what they can do with magic. I am from a school of the mono mastery, we master one spell. Pretty much every spell has infinite uses and we master our spell, mine is Force Push. I am a wizard, far more powerful and knowledgeable of magic than you lot.\" I told him this making sure he'd relay it's meaning before planting a fist enveloped in a pulse into his gut rendering him unconscious. After i watched him slump to the ground I continued to make my way out of the damp musky dungeon and toward my next bit of hopeful fun.",
"Sure, you could say that I shouldn't even be considered a wizard but I can't ignore that the magic runs through my veins from the moment I was brought into this world. Everyone that I know has learned and mastered over 30 spells. Hell, even fifteen year old kids know more. Me? I know know one.\n\nI'm a rare mage, you see? I can only control a spell. There is only one of us every few hundreds of years or when the gods think the earth is in danger. The last known mage with this power stopped battled the self-proclaimed mage-god 'Keljú', a powerful, ancient mage with over a hundred years of wisdom. He used to be a messenger for the gods before he turned his back on mankind and started gathering followers to join his 'world domination' dream.\n\nNow, you may be asking: \"How did a guy with just a spell manage to take down a self-proclaimed insane mage-god?\". Well, the spell we control is extremely powerful but deadly. It will kill the caster when it's cast. For mages, it takes away their power forever. For normal humans? It gives them power. That's why we're the secret weapon from the gods. \"Why are you telling me all of this?\" is what you're thinking. The reason is simple: This isn't one of those random times. There's two wizards out there battling each other, destroying cities and even countries. Hell, even Keljú was an apprentice compared to them. So, for the first time, the gods granted someone not one, but two souls. Once one dies, the other takes over the body so the task can be complete. Of course, the person will still have the same thoughts and memories, but different personalities. The gods deliberately chose another soul similar to mine, so they'd make sure we didn't turn against them.\n\nUnfortunately for me, I won't have much to live. I'm only 25 and a messenger came in today and asked me to grab his arm, and so I did. We were teleported into the sacred temple of the gods. There were only two gods. Most of them died due to the Chosens turning on them. Nowadays, they were more cautions. The God King, Jatrem, spoke:\n\n -Ah, thank you for bringing Denutor, messenger. - He said, dismissing him. - Now, you knew the day would come. The wizards have gotten too powerful and need to be stopped.\n\n -Of course, sir. - I responded. - I'll deal with them right away. But, before I go, may I get some sort of weapons? The only magic I have is unusable and I'll have no way of defending myself on my way there.\n\nThe God of battle and wisdom, Gar'thûm, turned to Jatrem and both started whispering in a language unknown to mortals. They were cautious.\nLong minutes had passed before the God King turned to me and nodded. I was given an enchanted short sword, with the power to dissipate magic and even go through all sorts of magical shields. Powerful. They also offered me a companion. He was immortal but he couldn't attack. He was only useful to keep me company, they said. I accepted their offer and a dog appeared before me.\n\n -Now go, my child. Fulfill your destiny and do what you must. - They ordered, teleporting me back to my home. \n\nI'm ready.\n\n(I'm too tired to write more [currently 3 am where I live]. If this gets a positive response, I will write the rest.)"
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[wp] "grandpa, tell me about world war 3"
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"“Pepere, will you tell me about the war?” \n \n“ Jonathan! I told you not to bother your grandfather with that,” Jonathon’s mother says from the dining room.\n \n“But, Mom... I just want to know, Pepere. did you kill anybody?”\n \n“ Jonathan, if you do not stop it, you are getting a time out.”\n\n“John,” his grandfather says.\n \n Little Jonathan looks at his grandfather.\n \n “Come over here,” his grandfather says while he pats his knee.\n \nJonathan obliges, feeling a little too old to to be still sitting on his grandfather’s knee. \n \n“So you want to know about the war, huh?”\n\nJonathan nods his head. \n\n“Dad, don’t tell him about that stuff. He’ll have nightmares.”\n \n“Hush up, Monique. You're not going to have nightmares, are you?”\n \n“Nuh uh, Pepere.”\n\nJonathan's grandfather laughs. “Well, you're better man than me. I still have nightmares. Even now, 30 years later, it's like I'm still out there.”\n \n“Was it scary, Pepere?”\n \n“How old are you, Johnny?”\n \n“Five.”\n \n“ Five years old, huh? wow. I was twelve when the war started. Just seven years older than you are now. And how old is your little brother?”\n \n“One and a half.”\n \n“Well, you probably don't know this but I had two older brothers back then. One was 4 years older than me and the other was 2 years older than me. As soon as they were able, they both joined so they could go fight in the war.”\n \n“So they could go kill the bad guys?”\n\n“Yeah, the bad guys. So my oldest brother, Brad, he joined in ‘25. and my other brother, Ferdinand, he joined in ‘27. In ‘29, My oldest brother was killed just a month before he was supposed to come back home for good and a few months later, my other brother died in an explosion.”\n \n“I’m sorry, Pepere.”\n \n“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Now I was in college at the time and your great-grandparents, my parents, they they me swear I wouldn’t go to war. Because they didn't want to lose the only son they had left to this damn war. And I told them what they wanted to hear but a week later, I enlisted. I was determined to get back at the people who killed my brothers. I was going to make them pay.\n \n“And did you, Pepere? Did you make them pay?”\n \n“ You asked me earlier if I had killed anyone. When you're young like you are now, it's easy to put people in categories. Those are the bad people. We're the good people and we're going to make the bad people pay.” \n \n“So they weren’t bad people?”\n \n“That's just it, Johnny.” His grandfather’s eyes start to water. “I don't know. I don't know anything about them. They put me in a plane, dropped me halfway around the world, and said that they were my enemy. So I did what I needed to do.” Tears starts to fall from his grandfather’s eyes.\n \n“I’m sorry, Pepere.” Jonathan gives his grandpa a hug but his mind is elsewhere.\n\n“I still see their faces at night. All the men that I...” Jonathan's grandfather is bawling now.\n \nMonique walks over. “Dad, maybe you should go lie down. Dinner won’t be ready for at least another hour.”\n\n“Okay, maybe you’re right.” Jonathan's grandfather turns to him. “Jonathan.”\n \n“Yes, Pepere?”\n\n“Promise me you won’t do what I did.”\n\n“I promise, Pepere.”\n\n“You promise?”\n\n“Yes, Pepere.”\n\n“Okay, Dad. I’ll take over here,” Monique says as she scoots Jonathan off of his grandfather’s lap.\n\nGrandpa wipes the tears from his eyes and stands up. “Okay, I’m gonna go lie down.” He kisses his daughter on the cheek. “I love you, sweetie.”\n \n“Love you too, Dad.”\n\nMonique and Jonathan watch Grandpa walk off and head into his bedroom.\n\n\n \n \n \n \n \n",
" \"Where did you fight in the war, Pap-pap?\" \n \"Well now, lets see,\" I said, looking down at my youngest grandson. \"I was sent to Kiev right after I got my commission in '17, then the Russians beat us back to Warsaw. When my command decided Poland was a lost cause we were sent to reinforce the Germans. Then my regiment was pulled to Paris to hold the city. I was there when the Eiffel Tower fell in '21. And then in '23 I was on one of the last choppers out of London. I saw them hang the red flags from the Palace of Westminster. That was when they killed the royal family.\" \n \"Where else?\" Georgie asked, excitement flashing in his big brown eyes. He had heard all of this many times before, but he loved hearing it all the same. \n \"Well, by that time I was a lieutenant so I still did actual fighting. So me and my men were there at the Battle of Virginia Beach. And we held the red suckers back!\"\n That was their first real taste of defeat. Seven long years of fighting and being driven back until the bastards tried to come onto American soil. I don't think they realized we had pulled all of our troops out of Europe the second it was clear they were coming to our homeland. They hit a wall that day. \n \"Wow, Pap-pap! You must have fought hard!\"\n \"We did, my boy,\" I chuckled. \"We fought for two weeks straight and then held the beach for another month.\" \n The guys on the Western Front hadn't had to pull back to California yet. They were still holding the North Koreans pretty good. Old Kim Jong Un was apparently furious that he still couldn't make it past the U.S. Navy after seven years. But Russia was another beast entirely. They were many and well trained. When they decided they were done being nice, the rest of Europe didn't stand much chance. We prevailed because of the long distance from their mother land, and because they thought it would be a good idea to try to invade during the summer of '24. One of the hottest summers America ever recorded. Russians don't do well in extreme heat and humidity. But us East Coasters grew up in it. \n \"Pap-pap? Were you scared?\" \n \"Terrified, my boy,\" I said matter of factly. \n \"But you were the leader! How could you fight if you were scared?\"\n \"I'll put it to you like this. Do you love your brother and sister?\"\n \"Yes\"\n \"Well, all of the Americans fighting on the beaches were my brothers and sisters. I loved each and every one of them. So even though I was scared, I still fought and led them because I wanted to protect them.\" Georgie was now lost in thought, looking at his shoes. Weirdly colored and shaped, they were the product of '60s fashion. The fashion today was a little reminiscent of the style that was around when I was born. He then looked at the eagle and trident tattooed on my arm. Then at the initials underneath. \n \"Are these people that died, Pap-pap?\"\n \"They are, Georgie. But now it's time for dinner. I'll tell you more after.\" I still had a hard time talking about them. I could still hear them dying, forty five years later. Every night, I watch it happen. Four of my brothers. Dead because of my mistake. While I live comfortably off of my pension in Maryland, their bodies have rotted to nothing in unmarked graves outside of Moscow. Cut down by the presidential guard. \n We may have ended the war that day, but they never got to come home. "
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[WP] One day, this suffering will be art
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"The pain was all too familiar at this point. Every night it returned, whether I was graced with the company of a friend or not. At this point, my only friend seemed to be the sweet embrace of alcohol, sleep, xanax, or whatever other device could momentarily put me out of this ocean of misery I dive deeper into everyday. The deeper and deeper I swim, the more the salty, bitter water stings, and while I feel as if I will drown, my oxygen tank somehow always keeps me alive with one sliver of air. The atrocities I have committed are unparalleled, and most who know me do not even know half of them. I have caused the people I care about such great pain, to the point they do not even care about me anymore. The smiles are forced, the image of happiness I keep up the acting performance of a century. I was chosen to suffer from the beginning, but I brought most of it onto myself. From a peers viewpoint, I am just another ugly, selfish, faux deep douchebag, but if they went through life being me, they would understand the tortured soul I truly am. If god were to take me away today, I would just want my suffering to be an inspiration to anyone feeling similar to me, someone who is hurting in a way that most people will not understand in their whole lifetime."
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Credit to /u/eviebutts and their comment in /r/iamverysmart
Link here:https://www.reddit.com/r/iamverysmart/comments/6e7g4r/comment/di8omrw
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[WP] The world has finally run out of idiots. Unfortunately, it's right when we needed idiots the most.
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"Star date 2400\n\nYou know how natural selection works? The whole survival of the fittest and removal of poor genes and advancement of a species through evolution. Well it happened humans finally evolved. Our intellect continued to increase so far that even compared to the genius humans of the past our average person is on par if not superior.\n\nThe problem with that is that as our intelligence grew, so did our self-preservation instincts. They grew to the point that our desire to survive as individuals out weighed our ability to sacrifice for the good of the whole. Intelligence made us selfish and ignorant. Worst of all it made us cowards. \n\nThe asteroid was going to crash into the earth and there would be no survivors. We had long ago moved away from rocket based weaponry. In fact we had moved away from weaponry in general as a species we knew that killing another to get ahead never resulted in an advantage for anyone. Just a wasted life behind bars and another lost before its time , so we had no way to change its course from a remote location. \n\nWe we're ready to move on to a new planet, We had the technology. But everyone knew the odds of making it on to the ship that would take us to mars or whatever world we decided on. As a result nobody wanted to provide the resources, man-power, or time to build the transport. Everyone wanted a guaranteed spot for having a hand in building the ship. If you included there families it quickly became impossible for a ship to even come close to the size required and escape earths gravity. \n\nOur final option was a manned mission. We could of sent a much smaller rocket to drill into the asteroid and fire its rockets to shift its trajectory just enough to miss the planet. this came with an exceptionally low survivability prediction. So low that no one even considered being the individual to go. \n\nSo to any living species that comes across this message. Our people have long rejoined the stars. We have become one with nature, once again stardust. Intelligence is amazing and powerful. But intelligence is useless without the heart to act on it. My people regarded courage as a fools trait and so we worked it out of the gene pool. When we needed courage the most there was none to be found. A whole race, a whole living planet lost to the idea that courage made you an idiot. Pick up where we left off, but correct our mistakes and grow.\n\nThis is Johnathan Stormtide signing off, its been an honor. \n"
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[WP]For 18 years you've lived in a small cabin in the mountains. Just you, your dog, and nature. It's been 10 years since you have talked to another human. Then one day a young woman shows up on your front porch and says she needs you help.
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"Tom placed each foot in front of the other. He counted to himself each step from the door to the bed where he had placed his disheveled guest. It was always five steps. The titanium plate filled with yellow scrambled eggs and crispy bacon clacked with a light ting on the pine nightstand next to the bed, that was now becoming too large for Tom in the recent years. He counted his measurements by the bedroom door frame every morning for the past ten years. Tom was now closing in on five feet eleven inches. He placed the fork, knife, and spoon in a perfect line on the napkin next to her breakfast. As he set down the place setting a dog’s black face peered around the door and let out a low growl.\n\n“Ulysses, shhh!” Tom said with a hand out to calm his German Shepherd down. Ulysses put his ears back and sat by Tom’s bedroom door. \n\nThe woman on his bed was like nothing he had seen before, because he had never seen another living person of the opposite sex. His imagination only described so much. It was nothing like he expected either. Her hair was not thick or long it was short, thin, and an unnatural scarlet red. Nine obsidian metal rings were pierced through her ears, five on the left and four on the right. Tom had to force himself to turn away and not pull out one on the left to fix the problem of her obvious mistake. Her hands were wrapped up in fresh cloth bandages and a white patch was taped up to cover her right eye, that was a dark purple color when Tom found her passed out on his porch. She wore dark tattered jeans and a black sweater that read ‘Idaho State University’ in orange letters. Tom watched her as he stepped out of the room. Five steps. He grabbed his black 7 mm rifle and sheathed Dozier knife from the gun rack by the door. Ulysses’ yellowish-brown eyes watched Tom as the door closed. He turned the knob three times and placed a pad lock on the door, which he also unlocked and locked three times.\n\n“What?” Tom said.\n\nUlysses uttered a low growl toward the door. \n\n“Hey! Keep quiet or I am sending you outside. Go eat your breakfast.”\n\nUlysses sneezes. Tom grabbed a chair from the kitchen, only ten steps from his bedroom door and placed it by the fire place which was about out. He rekindled it with aligning some of the wood he chopped from the day before until formed a perfect tipi. The cinders would catch quick when he added the predetermined amount of kindling. Tom turned his chair toward the door. He sets his rifle on the dark wood floor to his right and away from the stone fireplace; he also puts his knife in his ankle sheathe. After a few minutes Tom opens his copy of *Lonesome Dove* the cover had fallen off years ago in a fishing incident, he lost the fish. \n\nThree hours go by and Tom is engrossed in his book when Ulysses perked up turning his head toward the bedroom door. A light soft groan was heard from inside. Tom, rifle in hand and book on the floor, jumps up. \n\n“Ulysses, stay.” Tom said as he approached the door. \n\n“Hello?” She said. Her voice was rough and she let out a cough. “Hello? Can you please help me?” Tom frozen by the sound of another voice could not say a thing no matter how hard he tried. “Please! I need to help my friend he is in-“ She was interrupted by a coughing fit. “- he is in trouble!” Tom approaches within a foot of the door one step at a time. The door shakes as she tries to open it. “Please! Help me! He needs me!” She pounds on the door. \n\n“Why do you have nine earrings?” Tom said. She stops pounding.\n\nAfter a very long moment. “What?” The female voice said.\n\n“Your black metal rings in, I mean, on the side of your ears. What happened to the tenth one?” Tom said.\n\n“Are you fucking kidding?! Umm- I need to find my friend. Can you help me?! I am sorry if I seemed perturbed, but he could be dea-“\n\n“It just does not add up.” \n\n“What doesn’t?” \n\n“Your ears it should fit. It should fit evenly. Ten is even.”\n\n“Are you psycho? Listen, I will tell you all about my earrings if you just help me find my friend!” Her voice begins to trail off into an unintelligible mess. \n\nTom stands and listens. He looks at Ulysses behind him he is still sitting down.\n \n“Did I do that? I should have asked her name first, huh?” Tom said. Ulysses turns his head sideways. She continues to cry. Tom reaches for the door. “My name is Tom and this Ulysses. What is your name?” \n\n“Fuck you!” She said.\n\n“No, that is really my name.”\n\n“Are you retarded or something?”\n\nTom looks at Ulysses again and shrugs. “To be honest. I am not sure.” Tom said.\n\nAfter a long silence. “Can you let me out? I need to go help my friend.”\n\n“Okay.” Tom begins to open the door. He locks and unlocks the padlock three times, then turns the door knob three times, and then opens and closes the door three times. She is standing right beyond the door wrapped up in Tom’s flannel blanket. She is about chest height for Tom. Her pale green eye is blood shot, though it compliments her porcelain skin. It was easy for Tom to talk to her when there was a door between them, but now all he can do is stand there and stare.\n \n“Thank you, my name is Julia.” She pulls the blanket off her shoulders and gives it to Tom. “Oh.” She said.\n\n“Oh?” Tom said. He grabs the blanket from her wrapped up hands. \n\n“Ulysses is a dog. Thought there were two people here… Sorry, about the whole swearing at you, but I’m really scared. Can you help me find your friend?”\n\nHe looks at Ulysses again whose fur is standing up on end behind his neck. \n\n“Yes, yes we can.” Ulysses walks away. “Hey, get back here.” Ulysses walks out of sight into the kitchen. \n\nJulia jumps up and wraps her arms around him. “Thank you! We must go now! I am not sure how much time I got.” She climbs off him and runs to the front door. “Let’s go! I know the last place I saw him.” Tom is still facing the bedroom door eyes wide and it feels like all the blood in his body went to his face. \n\n“Just one moment. Then you- ‘We’ will. Find your guy friend. Friend, right? I have… I will get a few things from the shed then we can…” Tom says as he rushes to the backdoor between the kitchen and his room. He leaves it open. Now outside “One, two, three, four; wait!” He loses count and starts back from the back door along the pebble path toward the outhouse and shed. At the shed, he sees he left the back-door open, where both Ulysses and Julia are watching him, both their heads are tilted. Tom bites his tongue and closes his eyes and opens the shed door. Inside he begins to breath with at a rapid rhythm as he leans on his workbench where not a screw is not lined up in order from smallest to largest and organized by type. Further back there are two boar hides drying out as well as multiple slabs of meat hanging from the rafter.\n\n\n“Are you okay?” said Julia from behind the closed shed door. \n\n“Yes. Yes! I am stupendous! Just getting some rope.” \n \n“Okay. I’ll wait by the cabin.”\n\n“I am good, let’s go!” He swings the door open, rope in hand as well as a fully equipped tool belt. “I just need to call the ranger’s office.” Said Tom\n\n“No! No, time. We can call in when we have found him.” Said Julia. She begins to march on toward the path in front of the cabin. Ulysses creeps to Tom’s side and watches Julia fur on edge. \n\n“No. This is an emergency and my father said only use the radio in the case of an emergency.” Tom wraps the rope around his shoulder and holds his gun as he heads back into the house. \n\n“Don’t call them.”\n\n“It will only take a second.” Tom smiles. Ulysses begins to snarl at Julia. “Ulysses! Knock it off! I am sorry about-“ Tom stops mid-sentence to see Julia staring at him in tears and slowly backing away from the cabin and Tom.\n \n“Don’t call them!” said Julia.\n\n“Why?” said Tom. Holding the backdoor open. \n\n“I cannot explain it, but I do need your help that was honest. I am running.”\n\nTom pulls the gun on her and she throws her hands up. \n\n“You’re a criminal! Keep your hands up!” said Tom. Ulysses begins to bark. \n\n“No!” \n\n“There is no ‘friend’ is there!”\n\n“Yes, there is, but I- we can’t let the cops know!” A darker wet mark begins to spread between Julia’s legs. Tom notices as he begins to count the seconds in his head, but keeps his rifle trained on her. She crumbles to her knees and begins to cry uncontrollably. “I promised him.” \n\n“But it’s right to tell the authorities.” Tom lowers his gun and Ulysses stops barking. \n\nJulia collects herself and stands up. “Tom; I am sorry I called you retarded and cursed at you when all you did was help me. I made a promise to a friend and he I need to find him. If you help me I will explain everything, but we cannot call the authorities. They would not understand. Do what you think is right. I am leaving right now with or without you. Please trust me.”\n\n“That’s almost impossible considering the circumstances.” Tom said keeping his eyes trained on Julia. Julia reaches up and takes out the ninth earring out her left ear. Tom even though shaken can feel at peace that it fits together. \n\n“There was never a tenth earring.” Julia said as she puts the obsidian earring in her sweater pocket. “I will explain everything I promise.” \n\nTom looks at Ulysses who is no longer growling at Julia and after a long moment, Tom shrugs. \n\n“Okay, but I am going to be keeping an eye on you.” Tom said. “Let’s go find your friend.” \n\nJulia smiles and leads on. Tom and Ulysses follows, counting each step. \n\n",
"I breathed in the cold air. The air filled my lungs, the crispness invigorating me. More importantly, it heralded the start of winter.\n\nI stood up for a second, easing my aching back. Skinning a deer was hard work, but I was done. The meat and leather would serve me well in the coming months. Winter in the mountains could be brutally tough. \n\nI reached down to pet Duke. He was my wonderful dog. I had him when he was a puppy, and I wasn’t much bigger. He was a big golden retriever, and truth be told I was worried about him. I did not know the life expectancy of dogs, but I knew he was getting old. The thought of my only companion dying worried me.\n \nAs I hauled the deer to the drying racks, I spent a moment to thank my father’s spirit at his grave. I had buried him nigh on 10 years ago, when I was all of 9. I thanked him for the gift of learning and life. \n\nBeing one of the last humans alive sucked, though. There were times that I questioned his gift. When I was 8, a plague broke out. Dad had taken me and fled to the mountains. I hadn’t seen another person alive in close to ten years. Dad said there were probably survivors, somewhere, but the world he grew up in was dead. I had once seen a plane fly overheard, the summer after dad died, but since then, I had not heard anything about another human being alive. \n\nBefore he died, he taught me how to live off the land. How to fend for myself. How to trap and hunt. He told me how to tame a wolf, and mate him to Duke. I hadn’t been successful with that yet. Though to be honest, I was scared to try.\n\nMy night went on and I curled up on the floor of the tiny cabin with duke, next to the fire. I looked at my shelf of well-worn books. I decided to read one of my lesser favorites to him “Stuart Little.” I knew there was nothing there, but he always seemed to be more attentive to that book than my favorite of Peter Pan.\n \nI read for a while and then curled up and fell asleep crying in to duke’s fur. \nI woke as usual to the light of dawn seeping through the shutters over the windows. Duke was whining and licking my face. \n\nI stood up and put on my leathers. I looked fondly at my dad’s luggage and dreamed of when I could put on real clothing again. Even now, I still looked like a little kid playing dress up. Sometimes I wore the clothing anyway, to remember him. \n\nI took duke outside, and the cold air slapped me in my face. I walked over to my usual piss tree while Duke sniffed around and found a spot. \n\nI went to check on my drying rack at the meat and leather. As I was walking, Duke started barking his head off. I ran and grabbed the gun from inside the cabin door. \n\nOn the other side of the clearing, a big animal came trotting out of the woods, a Horse maybe? Some of the names escaped me.\n\nOn its back, sat a girl. Brown haired and approximately my age. She wore real clothing, and had a gun on her belt. She looked around the clearing and at my direction. \n\n“What the fuck?” she said. “Whatever. I need help. Please! My dad is hurt.”\n\nIt was the first words I had heard another person speak in nearly a decade. I started to cry, knowing I at last wasn’t alone. \n\n“Holy Fuck Man. GET IT TOGETHER. I need your help. My dad is dying. Please Help.” \n\nI stood there, dumb as a rock, and stared at the girl. She looked at me, and then yanked the rope things in her hand. The horse, that’s what it must be, turned around and started to walk away. \n\n“WAIT!” I yelled. “Sorry, I’ll help, Of course I’ll help.” \n\nI chased after the girl, who slowed down her horse, and duke chased through the woods at my side. I followed her for a space of time. She slowed down and I saw an older man leaning against a tree. Smaller than I remembered my father being, but maybe I had grown. \n\nHe was bleeding from his leg, but it wasn’t spurting, so none of the important things were damaged. His eyes were open and he was breathing. \nThe girl gave a squeal that sounded happy. \n\n“Oh thank god, you’re ok!! \n\n“Fine, I’m Fine. Well not fine. I shot myself, but I’ll live. If you have some gauze in your pack, and bandaging, I think I’ll be ok.” \n\nHe turned and looked at me. “What’s your name son?”\n\nI had to think about that for a moment. It had been a long time since I had used my name. Dad always called me ‘buddy,’ or ‘kiddo’ or something of the sort. \n\n“Steven” I said. \n\n“Well Steven, I’m John, and if she hasn’t introduced herself, this is Sarah. Do you have a place? Can we join you for a spell?” \n\n“Ok, I guess.”\n\nHe managed to get on the horse with some help and we walked in silence back to my cabin. Once there, I built up the fire, and put on some of the meat to cook. \n\n“Ok, son. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your story?”\n\nI took a moment to gather my thoughts. “Well, at the start of the plague, dad took me and we hid in the mountains. He claimed the world was destroyed, and that there was nothing left. I’ve been living here ever since. I thought I was the last human alive.” \n\nThe two of them looked at each other. “What plague?” \n",
"She was dressed like a hiker. A proper hiker too, someone with well-worn clothes and mud on their boots. She didn’t seem particularly tired either, although getting here couldn’t have been easy. I stared at her without thinking about it, unsure what to say, unsure if I even knew what to say. Suddenly I remembered that I hadn’t shaved in weeks, that Hadrian was barking and barking, that I hadn’t been to the river to wash up yet, that - \n \n“Are you okay? Can you hear me?” I was snapped out of the momentary panic when she spoke again, worry and a tinge of fear in her voice. I can only imagine how I must have looked to her, dressed in my homemade clothes, in front of a cabin in the middle of nowhere.\n \n“Sorry. Hadrian!” I shouted down at the old dog. With a whistle and a nod towards the cabin, he ran off to sit alert under the eave. “Help?”\n \n“Yes, help! I’m a backpacker, I’ve been lost for a few days now. I was worried I’d never find my way back until I smelled smoke and followed it here!” She seemed relieved without Hadrian’s constant barking, but didn’t move to step any closer.\n \n“Backpacker? Where? No trails here.” I knew the trails that came anywhere near my cabin, and the closest was a lengthy trek away. That was one of the reasons I liked it.\n \n“I was hiking the Appalachian, it got stormy, and I wanted to get off the trail. I couldn’t find it when the storm passed, and here I am. Listen, do you have a map or something? I don’t think mine covers this area.” She slung her pack around, a length of climber’s rope swinging around to smack with a sound louder than I’d expected. She fished through it before finding a trail map, faded and barely legible at the folds.\n \n“See, I was trying to get to the next peak here but other hikers said there was going to be lightning and I wanted to get off the trail because I was up high and…” She walked towards me, gesturing to the map without a pause for breath. I took an involuntary step back before catching myself.\n \n“No, no map.” Somehow my words cut through the verbal onslaught and she stopped in her tracks, looking up from her map at me.\n \n“Well then, can you…” She started, but I cut her off again, pointing back the way she’d come, towards an outcrop just visible on a neighboring peak through the trees.\n \n“That way. Use a compass.”\n \nShe stared at me quietly for a second, before turning around towards her pack. I turned too, heading back towards the rear of the cabin where I’d been skinning a deer before Hadrian’s sudden outburst interrupted me.\n \n“Hey, buddy.” I whirled around, seeing her standing next to her pack, hands on her hips. “What’s your name. Mine’s Anna.”\n \n“Conrad.”\n \nWe stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. She cocked her head slightly to one side.\n \n“What are you doing out here, Conrad?” She gestured with one hand at my cabin, at the small fields that were just beginning to grow in full. “What’s up?”\n \nI wanted to threaten her then, to make her leave me alone and go back to wherever she’d came from, to stop judging and asking questions. But it was obvious that Anna had gotten over whatever fear she had of me at first, and the question seemed to be simple curiosity.\n \n“Living.” I said, after a lengthy pause.\n \nShe liked that answer, it seemed. She sat down on her pack, holding her chin in her hands and gazing up through the forest at the clear blue sky.\n \n“Is it nice?” She asked, no longer staring at me. “Living out here, up here. Is it nice? I imagine it’s quiet. Is it quiet? Is it?” She spoke like someone with a hundred words all rushing to get out, the last few emerging unexpected like the last drip of water caught on a leaf once the rain had passed.\n \n“Usually.” I said, after another lengthy pause.\n \nShe laughed, then looked back at me with a sad smile. She dropped one hand to fiddle with the rope, twisting it through her fingers. “Can I stay here, just for a bit? I won’t be loud anymore.”\n \nI stared at her again, seeing sadness and hope in equal measures in her eyes. She looked away, looking towards the rock I’d pointed out earlier. The wind rustled the leaves, sending her short hair fluttering about her head before it settled back down.\n \n“You have a tent?”\n \nShe turned to look at me again, shock melting away as she broke into another smile, a real smile.\n \n“Yeah, yeah I do.”\n",
"I always wanted to get away. Even as a child, growing up in New York was always just... too much for me. The noise, the traffic, all those people. Behemoths of glass and steel constantly reminding me of my insignificance. Navigating through the throngs of people urgently going from Point A to Point B, and back again, for who knows what reason. While folks elsewhere wistfully listen to songs about leaving the countryside and moving to the Big Apple for 'the good life', I'd fantasize about packing my bags, and heading to some place more my style. Somewhere quiet, calm, a place where life goes at my pace.\n\nAnd I finally found it. It took some time, some planning, and a hell of a lot of scrimping and saving, but I eventually found my little plot of heaven. Nestled up in the Catskills, surrounded by the maple and birch trees, I knew I wasn't really that far away from my childhood home, but it felt worlds away. The move wasn't painless; I had no family to speak of that would stop me from going, but saying goodbye to my girlfriend Beth was one of the hardest things I have ever done. She was the love of my life, but she had to stay in the city to finish her residency and pay off her debts. I spent many agonizing nights figuring out what I really wanted, but in the end I knew that this was something I had to do, so that was that.\n\nWhen all was said and done, it was great to finally be all alone, to be able to sit down and focus on my music without the constant fear of disturbing my neighbors, and being interrupted in the middle of a recording by yelling or thumping or the occasional siren (I didn't exactly come from the nicest part of the city). Of course, I wasn't completely alone; Roscoe had been my closest friend for three years, so giving him to a friend or relative to take care of wasn't even an option. Constantly jumping and scampering and begging to go out for a run, I think he might like our new locale even more than I do.\n\nI used to go out occasionally. I'd head over to Woodstock or Esopus Creek, just to be around other people for a little bit. I guess I was somewhat lonely those first few years, even if I didn't like to admit it; after so long packed in like sardines, the taste of true solitude was an unfamiliar one. I would watch the families tubing down the creek together, children shrieking with glee. Or I'd amble through the town, observing people living their lives. But slowly, I felt less of a need to do that, as I grew more content with my situation, and came to terms with my new existence. It's been a long time since I've seen another person.\n\nWell, with one exception. A couple of days ago, I heard a knocking at my door. It was so faint at first that I mistook it for some animal bumping against my cabin frame, and I turned back to my composition. However, the next knocks were clear and resonant — it seems like my visitor gained some confidence. For a while I was genuinely confused; it had been so long since I had last interacted with anyone that I wasn't sure what to do. But after a brief moment, common sense took over. I collected myself, strode to the door, and opened it.\n\nBefore me stood a young woman. Short, with curly black hair, and a smile on her face betrayed by the uneasiness in her eyes. If I had ever settled down and gotten married like my mother always wanted me to, my daughter could have been this girl's age. For a while we both stood there, each entranced by the other. As foreign as she was to me, I'm sure coming face to face with a man isolated from the world for decades was no everyday event for her. I waited for her to speak first, curious as to what had brought another person to, quite literally, my neck of the woods.\n\n\"Hello, sir. My name is Emily, and I was hoping you could help me,\" came her words, every syllable wavering with uncertainty.\n\nI suddenly realized that she might think I don't know or remember English. Luckily for her, I've had the habit of talking to myself ever since I was little. That, along with the veritable tons of poetry and prose I brought with me, was enough to keep my English from deteriorating. Well, at least not too much.\n\n\"What could I help you with?\" I replied.\n\nVisibly relieved that her fellow conversationalist actually knew what she was saying, Emily jumped into it. \"Well, you see, I live nearby in Windham, and I knew that you were somewhere here but I didn't know exactly where. So I've been driving around, looking for anyone here that has actually seen you, or been here.\" As she spoke, she grew so excited that she started rocking on the balls of her feet. It reminded me of Roscoe, bounding through the woods during our walks in the hills.\n\n\"A man in Phoenicia said that he'd seen you there a long time ago, and there was a lady who remembered seeing you down by...\"\n\nI cut her off. \"But what were you looking for me for?\"\n\nThe rocking ceased. Emily's face went solemn, and she looked down. \"My mother died a week ago.\"\n\nIf I thought I was confused on how to act up until then, I was utterly baffled now. What should I do? Should I comfort her? What can I say?\n\nEmily could probably sense my confusion, because she looked back up and went on with, \"You don't need to say sorry or anything, it's not like it's your fault. You weren't the one driving drunk on a Wednesday afternoon. And before you ask, I've been doing fine given the circumstances. I've always hated how people ask things like 'Are you okay?' That's such a stupid question, of course I'm not okay!\" By the end of her little ramble she was getting angry, as if her pent-up pain and anger had found a crack and was streaming out.\n\nBut then she took a moment to compose herself, and continued. \"Anyways. The reason I was looking for you is that just before she died, my mom told me to go out and talk to you. I've always loved these hills, and I would always tell her that one day I would leave Windham and come live out here, with the trees and the sky and the solitude. Whenever I said that, she'd tell me that she knew someone who grew up in the city, and was never happy with where he was.\"\n\n\"She said that he left the city to go live his dream, leaving her behind. But she never forgot him, and soon afterwards she left as well, moving up to Windham. She saw a glimpse of what he had described, and decided she never wanted to leave. So she set up a practice there, and raised me there in that little town.\"\n\n\"And when the time came, she told me about the love of her life, who had given her a gift and then left to answer his calling. She said that he had the same calling that I did, and that I would make him proud. She told me that I would find you here, so here I am.\"\n\n\"And now that I'm here, I just have one question: do you have room for one more?\"",
"\"Where did you come from?\" I asked, carefully studying her.\n\n\"Nowhere,\" she mumbled evasively, her eyes downcast.\n\n\"That's pretty obvious, Honey. I'm surrounded by nowhere,\" I croaked, wincing at my own lack of articulation.\n\n\"I'm running away.\"\n\n\"From your parents? This isn't a safe place to wander. You could have been injured!\" Not good, I was going to scare her away if I kept up this tone.\n\n\"Not my parents. Them. They're going to hurt me!\" Fear flickered in her eyes.\n\n\"Hurt you?\" My chest tightened. Poor girl. \n\n\"Can I please come in?\" Her tone shifted from subtly to openly desperate. \"Please. You have to help me.\"\n\nI swung my door open a little wider and nodded inside. She shuffled in, eyes wide and surveying her surroundings with anticipation, as though she expected it to disappear at any moment. \n\n\"Would you like something to eat or drink?\" I asked, trying to remember the art of hosting, something that had admittedly fallen into disuse out here. \n\nHer face lit up, and I knew the answer before she ever opened her mouth. \"Yes, please,\" she breathed. \n\nI poked my head into my storeroom, grabbing a jar of jam and my freshly baked loaf of bread. As I always did, I caught myself glancing at my stores. For the first time in ten years, I was nearly due to go into town. Several of my supplies were running low. Perhaps I could refill when I took the girl where she needed to go.\n\nSoftly, I whistled to Emmie. Maybe the dog's steady presence would help the girl.\n\nAs I set the jam and bread down on the table, Emmie's scritch and shuffle across the ancient floorboards became audible. The girl leaped from her chair, blood draining from her face. She began backing toward the door. \n\n\"What's that noise?\" she whispered, a battle with panic evident on her face.\n\n\"Tha's just my dog, Emmie. I asked her to come out and say hi,\" I told her. The girl slowly relaxed, stopping her movement toward the door. \n\nWhat exactly had this child been through? \n\nIn moments she was on the floor, face pressed into Emmie's soft fur, arms wrapped tightly around her neck. I heard muffled sobs. Emmie, emotionally intelligent as she was, stayed perfectly still, huddling close to the hurting human.\n\nI knew she would need a moment, so I began to heat tea water on my wood stove. Meanwhile, my mind raced. It had been so long since I interacted with another human that my brain was in overdrive accomplishing even the simplest social tasks.\n\nI glanced out my window as I grabbed a cloth napkin from a drawer. Another beautiful day in the Rockies. Sunlight and blue sky glittered through gently swaying pines. I turned back to the girl, noticing that the tears were abating. \n\n\"The tea will be ready in a moment, but you can start with the bread if you like.\" I tried to smile, the attempt failing as I saw her face. \n\n\"What brought you here?\" I whispered, pierced by the hopelessness of her expression.\n\n\"Don't you know?\" she asked, her voice nearly lost in the sound of the wind through a crack I hadn't gotten around to sealing. \"Haven't you seen it?\" she shuddered involuntarily. \n\n\"Seen what?\"\n\n\"Them,\" she breathed. \n\nAt the edge of my hearing, I became aware of low moans, distant snarling. Emmie's hair bristled and she growled. The girl hushed her sharply. \n\n\"I'm taking you to town,\" I tried to sound firm, unshakeable, but something deep inside was quaking.\n\n\"What town?\" she whispered. \"There aren't any towns. Not anymore.\"\n\nI felt my jaw drop. I had known I was on the outer edge of society, but...how could I miss something like that?\n\n\"It's all gone,\" she began to cry softly again. \"The world is dead.\"\n\n\"Dead? Then who is chasing you?\" If my mind had been in overdrive before, then perhaps it was now entering full meltdown. \"Gone?\" I whispered under my breath, the sheer magnitude of the word nearly drowning me in my own thoughts.\n\nI came out of my thoughts to see the girl staring out the window. She pointed. \"They are.\"\n\nA man and a woman shuffled out of the forest, something wrong about their gait. \n\n\"Who are they?\" I asked, though some part of me screamed the answer. \n\n\"They....they...\" she sniffled, choking on her words. \"They were my parents.\" \n\n\"What do you mean, 'were?'\" I pressed, the sickness in my stomach causing my voice to shake. \n\n\"The world is dead.\" The girl repeated somberly. \"The whole world. And it wants to take us with it.\"\n\n\n"
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[WP] Sitting around a long conference room table, top payed film execs are waiting to hear the next big pitch; Yours.
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"\"So, Lisa,\" the man at the head of the table leaned forward, pointing his fountain pen at me. \"We are very excited to hear your pitch for our next big children's adventure film.\"\n\n\"Uh...what?\" I stammered. \"Children's film?\"\n\n\"Yes, your masterpiece for 8-13 year olds!\" He exclaimed. \"Your agent has been talking it up for weeks!\"\n\nMy mind raced. I'd been so stoked when Joanne had got me this meeting...but I'd been prepping an erotic romantic thriller, not a Disney adventure! I opened my mouth to say as much, but Joanne's warning of \"don't screw this up for me, this is a once in a lifetime meeting!\" rang through my head. I swallowed...and kicked my storyboards further under the table.\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen,\" I started, \"or should I say boys and girls? For aren't we all children at heart? There are days where I sit at my desk and wonder, 'how did I get here?' I feel like I'm 16, still figuring everything out, still asking questions that I'm supposed to know the answer to...\" I trailed off in what I hoped was a nostalgic manner, when I was really just looking for a proper beginning to my 'pitch'. \n\nThe executives weren't giving me an inch; they were staring at me, stone-faced and sipping coffee. One guy at the end of the table looked like he was texting...or staring at his crotch, you never knew with these Hollywood types.\n\n\"So there's this girl,\" I started again, wildly reinventing my script on the fly. \"Priscilla McIlroy. The movie opens with her prowling through the jungle, on an exotic safari. She's all alone, and we think she's going to be maimed by a jaguar, but she's actually only playing a video game. She's sad that she's all alone, so she heads outside to find an adventure or the corner store, whichever one comes first.\" I winked playfully.\n\n\"Where are her parents?\" A woman next to the flipchart gave me a highly disapproving look as she posed her question. Thankfully, I actually knew how to answer this question.\n\n\"First rule of children's literature and movies,\" I said. \"You have to kill the parents for the kids to have any fun. Harry Potter, Bambi, Series of Unfortunate Events, Lion King...it's a proven formula. So Priscilla is the heir to a giant fortune and lives alone in a huge mansion with her faithful servants.\" She nodded, but didn't look convinced. \n\n\"Priscilla thinks about joining online dat-\" I stopped myself. Old screenplay, old screenplay! \"Sorry, she thinks about joining 'MyFriendBook', but decides not to, which turns out to be the most important decision of her life.\" I waved my hands mysteriously. \"During her walk to the store, she finds a magical bobblehead that tells her the future and a puppy.\"\n\nA thin man leaned forward, pushing up his glasses. \"Does the puppy have magical powers?\"\n\n\"No, the puppy is a puppy. What kid doesn't want a puppy?\" The man sat back in his chair, pouting slightly. I probably shouldn't be so snippy with these executives, but too late now. \"Priscilla meets an orphan boy at the slurpee machine, and he says he's going to send her a MyFriendBook request, but the bobblehead warns her not to accept it. Turns out, the evil MyFriendBook company is brainwashing everyone through an algorithm embedded in the app, and now only Priscilla can stop it!\"\n\nI let the room soak in the pitch while I scrambled for a 'piece de resistance' to cap off my story. Some of the execs were nodding; one woman was scribbling furiously in a notebook. However, I sensed that I didn't have the entire room yet, seeing as how that guy was still staring at his phone and/or crotch.\n\n\"Priscilla rescues Chris from his orphanage, and enlists the help of her trusty butler to travel to the big city to confront the evil corporation. The bobblehead casts a magic spell, giving Priscilla an army of animated characters that will be able to slip into the internet and disable the algorithm.\" Oh man, my imagination was in overdrive now. \"They free the world from the clutches of MyFriendBook and everyone celebrates with sprinkled donuts and soda pop! And we find out that Priscilla's parents weren't really dead, but were software engineers captured by MyFriendBook, so we get a big tearful reunion. Priscilla's parents adopt Chris, so he gets a happy ending too.\" I pause expectantly.\n\n\"Hmm,\" the head executive was tapping his chin. \"What would you say is the overarching theme of your movie?\"\n\n\"It's a highly complex film,\" I said, with a hint of condescension to attempt to make them think I'd really thought this through. \"I would say that this plays along with our dependence on technology, making friends wherever you go, and never losing hope.\" I pretended to look thoughtful. \"I mean, there are so many lessons that can be learned from this movie. And in the end...aren't we all looking for friends to share our sprinkled donuts with?\"\n\nThe woman who had asked about the parents at the beginning looked at her coworkers. \"I can see the merchandise line now,\" she said, sketching on her pad of paper. \"There are some cool logo ideas, I see donuts and a digital code element...\" \n\n\"I'm not completely sold,\" the head executive said. \"I feel like it's missing something.\"\n\n\"It's a MUSICAL!\" I practically yelled. \"It's totally a musical, did I forget to mention that? I'm in the middle of writing a really great battle song for Priscilla and her army, it's really going to be this generation's 'Let It Go'.\" \n\nThe entire table sat up straight - even texting man looked up at me. \"Yes!\" The head executive exclaimed. \"I can see it!\" He pulled his business card out of his pocket and slid it down the table to me. \"Have the first draft of the lyrics for the battle song to me on Friday and we will put together the official pitch to the board.\"\n\nThe second I hit the street, I was on the phone with Joanne. \"Dude, what the heck?!\" I yelled. \"We did it, but why did they think I was pitching a kid's film?\"\n\n\"Oh my God,\" she said. \"You didn't pitch the-\"\n\n\"Nope, but let's just say that if a critic realizes that this kid's film is based off of a thriller where Tinder is brainwashing people and a porn star saves the world with the help of a male escort, my creativity might be called into question...\" I got into my car and just sat there for a moment. \"Please let no one ever find out what the bobblehead was going to be in my original script.\"\n\n\n\nI've finally started my own subreddit for my writing - check out more at r/DieKarrotte :-)"
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[WP] A class about the mechanics of magic, set in modern society.
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"Jack adjusted his collie one last time as he nervously looked through the curtain at the lecture hall. It was completely full, hell the back row was also full of professors. \n\n\"You'll be fine.\" Lily responded. \n\n\"Yah easy for you to say. You're not going to be up there.\" He replied. \n\n\"Oh come on. This is just like when you were presenting your dissertation a few months ago.\" \n\n\"To half the amount of people.\" He grunted. \n\nLily approached him and straightened his tie one last time. She clasped his shoulders looked him straight in the eyes and said, \"You'll be fine.\" She smiled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. \n\nJack took a deep breath and opened the door. He walked out onto the front stage in front of the massive blackboards looking at the room. Seated from bottom up were Adepts to some of the Schools very own distinguished professors. A silence fell upon the room as everyone settled down and looked towards Jack. \n\n\"Good morning everyone,\" he began, \"before I really get started I'd like to ask you all a question.\"\n\nEveryone casually looked at each other for a moment waiting in anticipation. \n\n\"What is magic? Or more specifically what is the rule of magic? The meachnics if you will.\" \n\nThe entire room felt silent as no one dared to take the chance and answer the question. Until one brave youth at the bottom raised his hand. \n\n\"Yes?\" Jack pointed at the Adept. \n\n\"To do things beyond the simple bounds of reality. To make things happen.\" He replied. \n\nJack paused and then he smiled. The poor kid began sweating. \"Yes, that is true but it isn't quite the whole truth.\" \n\nAnother youth emboldened by the previous answer raised his hand to answer. Jack nodded his head at him. \n\n\"To help search for meaning. A truth of the world and help us answer questions of life, death and reality.\" \n\nJack chuckled. \"A philosophical approach. Not bad.\" \"Here let me clean things up a bit. Do we control magic or does magic control us?\" \n\nSilence answered him. Until one of the professors at the back raised his hand. Jack motioned at him. \n\n\"Control is subjective. We command magic to perform certain task but our control is limited to our knowledge of magic therefore our control is limited by the very thing we wish to control.\" \n\n\"True.\" Jack replied. \"So if one were to gain more control then would have interact with magic more. And that is where we arrive at the crux of the problem. Magic today is taught through language. This language is written in your textbooks and prescribed in your classes. Spells and summons you memorize to the letter and rewrite onto your exams. Well if magic is found in language then why do we have to memorize language? After all is language not fluid, if using different tones or words do I not change the meaning of the sentence?\" \n\nHe turned towards the board and tapped it until the words 'Punch the guy in the face.' appeared. \n\n\"Magic works very much in the same. Here I'm telling someone to punch some else in the face. If I said 'Hit him.' Is it not the same general meaning?\" Jack paused to look at the crowd. He then went over to the nearest student and asked, \"May I borrow your textbook?\" \n\nThe kid nodded and handed him his textbook. Jack noted that he was an Elemental Mage.\n\n\"Now if I were to flip to Chapter 2 and pick a random electrokenisis spell here.\" Jack went over to the black board and picked up a chalk and began writing. While he wrote he also spoke, \"*<Oh Spirit of Lightning reach out and bind thyself to bring constraint to it>*, everyone knows this spell. Simply shock and paralyze someone momentarily. Only problem is it's kind of a mouthful. Can you imagine? As you walk down an alley and someone holds you at gun point, you think he'll let you ramble on for 30, 20 seconds getting a simple paralysis spell ready? No, the bugger would have shot you.\" Jack paused and turned back to the crowd. \"Yet if I were to change it slightly but still imply the same effect then it is possible I can save myself from getting mugged. *<Just be paralyzed>*\" As he spoke those words a bolt fired off from his fingertip arcing across the rooming and falling just short of the first row. \"If I added one more verse I could make it stronger or if I said *<Wash they're hair over there>*.\" \n\nAll the male professors at the back row suddenly found their hair soaked wet. With a startled cry some stood up whole the entire room was filled with some wry chuckling. \n\n\"You see,\" Jack replied chuckling. Magic is not quite the study of truths or is it a tool to perform tasks. Magic is the study of cognition of mankind. I can change what 'Magic' hears simply by understanding what I really want. If I want the entire back row to be flooded then all I have to do is command. If I want to give some a shock I need to understand the very nature of what I want. If I said *<Nuke this place>*.\"\n\nThe entire auditorium suddenly spring to their feet as Jack stiffled a laugh. \n\n\"As you can see nothing happened. Because I didn't understand the theory behind nuking the place. I don't know how atoms can be split and so much energy is released that I'd destroy this place. Simply knowing is not enough, if you want control to just understand, and through understanding you achieve control and through control you can search for the answers to life or you could simply learn to give yourself a quick bath without moving.\"",
"Professor Harrison Lee walked into the room at 7:13, wishing for the hundredth time that the university would finally eliminate the 7:30 slot for classes. Only a handful of students bothered to come earlier than he did. Most sat slumped in their chairs, using the hard and immensely small desks as pillows. A small group exchanged a few languid words before giving up and staring at the front of the room. One diligent student was reading the textbook, or at least pretending to.\n\nProfessor Lee set his bag down next to the podium and turned on the projector before sitting down and fiddling with his phone. He fired off a few quick emails before looking up.\n\n7:20 struck. The class was growing and starting to show signs of intelligent life. Almost half the seats were filled, and the occasional student was clacking away on their shiny new laptops. A low babble filled the room, and every now and again a tinkling laugh rose above the chatter.\n\n7:28. A last minute rush of students came into the room, but the 230 seat lecture hall was mostly filled. In the back left of the room, a small circle of students had formed. A young man in the center was trying to impress a small clique of girls by making sparks fly from his fingertips. It wasn't quite working.\n\nAt 7:31, Professor Lee moved to the podium, and the class got quiet. \n\n\"Wake up, ladies and gents. This is An Introduction to Mechanics of Magic for non-commercial magic majors, course number MAGC 121. If you're not supposed to be here, now's the time to leave.\"\n\nA skinny boy near the front turned bright red and quickly left the room as the class chuckled quietly.\n\n\"Since this is the first day, we'll quickly go over the syllabus before we get started. I know,\" he said as his students groaned, \"I know. I'll make it quick. \n\n\"These two,\" he motioned two students that had gotten up from the front row, \"are your TAs for the semester. Guys, if you could give a wave when I call your name, that'd be helpful. They are...\" He referenced the syllabus in front of him. \"James Clark and Mo So Min. They'll be passing out copies of the syllabus, so just take one and pass the stack along.\n\n\"My name is Harrison Lee. I worked hard on my doctorate, so I prefer Professor Lee, but Doctor Lee also works. For those who are interested, my thesis was on patterns in macrotransmutation of third-order metal alloys in the presence of significant amounts of non-metal molecules. There's a link to my paper on my webpage, which you can find right at the top of the page with my email address. Office hours are Monday and Wednesday at 1:30, and I'm willing to schedule something else if that doesn't work for you.\"\n\nHe picked up a book and showed the cover to the class. \"Our textbook is technically Foundations of Magic by Binns, Brown, et al, fifth edition. If you don't have it yet, you can get it online or at the bookstore. Legally, I can't mention if it is possible to find the fourth edition online for free, but if you happen to find a pdf, you might find that it will work just as well as the fifth.\" The class laughed.\n\n\"Attendance is optional but good luck passing without it. The rest of this is mostly schedules, grading scales, two exams and a final, et cetera, so on and so forth, Bob's your uncle. Any questions?\"\n\n\"Sir?\" A bespectacled girl in the fourth row raised her hand. \"What about the lab portion?\"\n\n\"Good question. I have no control over the lab, and the coordinator has failed to give me a copy of the materials, so you probably know more than I do. However, if it's like recent years, you'll probably be analyzing one or two simple cantrips, like what the gentleman in the back was unsuccessfully trying to woo a few of you with.\" More laughter, and the culprit flushed a bit, looking down at his desk.\n\nProfessor Lee looked at the clock. \"We've got only twenty minutes left, and I'm not going to take up all of that, so bear with me while I rush through this introduction. This is all of the stuff in chapter one, for those of you keeping track.\" He started to flip through slides of a presentation. Half of the class pulled out notebooks and pens; the other half stared into space as their eyes glazed over.\n\n\"Now, we throw around the word magic a lot without any context. People have struggled to define it for centuries, but most scholars today agree on this: 'Magic is the field that deals with any and all *human manipulations* of matter and spacetime that cannot fit into the current models of physics.' That means that 'magical' beasts are not actually magic, no matter what your BIOL 142 professors tell you.\" A few of the students who had heard of this small dispute laughed.\n\n\"Rather, they fall under the category of animate phenomenology, which also upsets the philosophers. As you can tell, we magicians are a contentious lot. To wit, in the last five minutes, we've upset physicists, biologists, and philosophers, and we're just getting started.\n\n\"Back to the subject at hand. Generally speaking, magic falls into a few neat categories with a handful of exceptions. The basic categories (and you'll want to know these) are destruction, transmutation, telekinetics, telepathy, conjuration, and illusion. A lot of people combine the last two, but our textbook does not. Another note of interest is that the major difference between the fourth and fifth edition is that in the fields of telekinetics and telepathy are just referred to as telepathy in the fourth edition.\"\n\n\"So, definitions. I'll just cover the layman's definitions for now. Conjuration is essentially creation of what wasn't previously extent. For example-\" Professor Lee focused and muttered under his breath. A block of wood appeared in front of him.\n\n\"This wood was not here before. Correct?\" The class laughed and confirmed his assertion. \"Now, illusion.\" He focused some more. A second block appeared in the air above the first and fell on top of it, creating a loud clattering sound.\n\n\"Would the lady in the green shirt please come forward? Yes, you. Please pick up that second block.\" The student he pointed out reached to touch the block, but her hand passed straight into it. \"Illusion is creation of visual and auditory effects.\n\n\"Telepathy is pretty straightforward, but also the most difficult. I'm personally not any good at it, but I can tell you that this young lady is not at all impressed or surprised by my illusion.\" The class, including the girl that had resumed her seat, chuckled.\n\n\"Telekinetics is similar, but we've found recently that it's an entirely different process. Basically, it refers to movement of existing objects without physical contact. Exempli gratia-\" The block lifted off the ground, circled over the heads of the students, and returned to the floor in front of the podium. The class clapped politely, and Professor Lee bowed sarcastically. \"I know, I'm fantastic. Tell your parents.\" They laughed again.\n\n\"Transmutation, the oldest field, previously known as alchemy. Chemists hate us for this one.\" He looked at the block, and it turned into gold. The class gasped.\n\n\"Obviously, this could be very profitable if it weren't so difficult. I'm one of the world's best transmutators, if I can be so bold, and it took a magnificent amount of both training and effort to just turn the nanometer thick layer of that block into gold. It's easier with more similar materials, according to the aptly named Principle of Similarity, but we'll get to that later.\n\n\"Finally, destruction.\" The professor wrenched his face into a terrible and frightening visage, and the block exploded loudly into dust that floated softly to where the block was.\n\n\"This is the most dangerous and well regulated branch for good reason. It is highly volatile and is very difficult to do unless the magician is feeling strong negative emotions, which has its obvious drawbacks. Most of the conflict between magic users and ordinary citizens arises when a magician allows those feelings to twist them and change them for the worst.\n\n\"Let that serve as a warning to all of you. What we do here is neither safe nor easy. A quarter of you will be incapable of doing anything but the simplest tricks, and a further quarter will not even manage those. Among the half that is left, mutilations and deaths will occur, and most of you will face discrimination of some sort. I'm sure most of you remember the Columbus riots about ten years ago.\" A few students nodded grimly. All of them looked nervous.\n\n\"And on that grim note, we are adjourned.\" The students started to pack their bags and shuffle out. Professor Lee raised his voice. \"We'll start chapter 2 next week, so try to get your books by then, because there WILL be homework!\"\n\nHe looked over the room, which was mostly empty, and the line of students that were advised to talk to every professor they see. He felt a strange mix of satisfaction and trepidation.\n\nAnother year had [begun.](https://www.reddit.com/r/mpqeg/) "
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[WP]"Let's eat Dave!" "You mean 'let's eat, Dave'" "No. No I don't."
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"“You know, there is one way out of this.” “What? How?” “We could... Let’s… Let’s eat Dave. It’s our only hope!”\n\nI can’t believe it’s come to this. How did it go so downhill, so fast? It all started on our graduation trip to Peru, up in the mountains. It was just us, the lads. There was Matt, who had the wits sharp enough to cut through an armadillo on steroids. There was Chris, a big guy, but a big softie at heart. Impossible to forget about Daniel, the one full of questions, so full of energy. And of course, Dave the Brave. Why the brave? Because he could chug 2 pints of beer, and still go hit on some girls, no problem. This guy was unstoppable. Even his body was like that, unstoppable. He had the build of a Rugby player. Everything went to according to plan until we got on the plane. It was a smaller aircraft, maybe holding about 30-40 people. I noticed something was wrong as soon as I stepped onto the plane, hearing a long creak as it felt like the entire plane shuddered under my added weight, yet I quickly shrugged it off. As we sat down, we did what any normal group of 18-year-olds would do, try to entertain themselves in the stupidest of ways. Matt was trying to spark an argument between Chris and Daniel, Dave was just enjoying his music, and I was messing around with my chair and table. I went to put the tray down, as I always do, you know, just in case this plane has some completely different tray than every other plane tray, but as soon as I pulled it down, it came clean off its hinges. I showed the guys and we all laughed and just made fun of it, and me, for breaking it, again shrugging off the now clear red flags. After the plane took off, it wasn’t long before we really got some altitude. As we were over the mountains, I could hear something. As I was sitting relatively far up ahead, I could overhear the pilots, and those Spanish classes definitely helped. They said something “Sudden temperature change” and “Extreme cold”, but my Spanish was not advanced enough to understand anything else. I quickly took my mind off it and joined in with Matt, Chris and Daniel. Next thing I know, I heard a metallic screeching noise, like as if someone was holding a ceiling fan in place while it tried to spin. Now where in a plane could there be a ceiling fan? Oh right, the propellers. Not a few seconds later, and the captain is screaming in Spanish, and I being the only one in the group to understand him, proceed to inform my friends of our current predicament, even though I’m pretty sure that, us starting to rapidly descend, was a bit of a giveaway.\n\nIt was all over in flash, my memory went blank. The only thing I remember was a loud boom and blinding white light. I thought I died. But no, I wake up to me, in my seat with the safety belt on. Thanks for keeping me safe. I look around, and I realize there isn’t much plane to secure myself to anyways. The cockpit is gone, all I can see is pieces of it. I look around for my friends slowly, as my body is still rebooting and in shock. I see Matt move around a little, he’s still alive, good. Daniel has seen better days, but there isn’t too much blood, so he could survive. Chris is already out and trying to help, like the good person he is. He barely has any injuries. What about… Dave? Oh, Dave. Nobody noticed that he was asleep during most of the flight. He must’ve only woken up when it was too late, he didn’t have time to go into the safety positions or anything. His body lie still on its seat. Some other passengers made it out too. After the initial shock has passed and we somewhat gained some composure, we had to come up with some plan to survive. We had divided ourselves on tasks. My friends and I were assigned to go out searching for help.\n\nAfter a few hours, we come back. All the survivors are gone. We look for foot prints, tracks, trash, anything but to no prevail. Dave is still there, sitting, waiting. We try to gather up as much food that survived from the plane as possible, but there was only a few pretzel packs. This plane was not meant to hold much food. As the night drew, we had a few options. We were cold, hungry, and in shock. We all knew that we needed to get food in us soon or else we wouldn’t make the night. We all were thinking it, but no one wanted to say it. So I did.\n\n“You know, there is one way out of this.” “What? How?” “We could... Let’s… Let’s eat Dave. It’s our only hope!”\n\n(Hey guys, long time lurker on reddit, but never had the courage to post anything, let alone a whole story. This my first proper story, and I'm planning on writing one a day. Any constructive criticism or tips would be greatly appreciated :D)\n"
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[WP] A person on death row, with their last words before execution, sets themselves free.
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"The gently squelch of a cream-colored sponge against her head sends a shiver of goosebumps down her shoulders and into her fingers. Water bubbles out from the sponge's pores as a coarse hand presses it firmly against the circle of skin in the center of her scalp. Long strands of smooth, shiny hair stroke her shoulders. Her head hangs limply. Bluish-black tatoos outline tribal patters on her arms and hands. Eyes, glassy and unfocused, stare into nothingness as a leather strap is fastened brutishly under her chin. Clink. The left leg of her orange trousers is lifted and a curved piece of metal is attached below the knee. Hands remove themselves from her body and cross in front of the wide, navy-clad chest of a now-erect figure. Inhale. Exhale. \"Amanda Linklater,\" the figure's voice breathes. Stentorian. Echoing. In three rows against the back wall, a dozen stony faces twitch as they are awakened from their tense distraction. Her head remains motionless. Two dozen black beads stare. The rustling of a pack of nervous tissues conceals a tender whimper emanating from the back row. \"Amanda Linklater,\" the voice says, \"do you have any last words?\"\n\nFive meaty, unhesitating fingers tighten on the handle of an oversized knife switch as two black beads join the rest in staring. A nose inhales bubbly air through streaming tears. Apathetic chests breathe evenly. A leg in tights quivers.\n\n\"My last word,\" her head rises as she hisses through chapped lips, \"my last word -- for I have but one to share with you --\"\n\nSeated nostrils sharply suck in gasps of air. Crossed arms tighten.\n\n\"My last word is -- covfefe.\""
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[WP] A group of scientists discover that the universe is a simulation.
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"I suppose it started with the end of pi. It took years and years and years, but eventually we found it. Trillions of hours of manpower, over 60 quintillion digits, but we got there.\n\nThe last number of pi brought the world to its knees. Everyone knew pi was an irrational number. It didn't have an end. The only thing this could mean is that Earth, the Moon, the Sun, the stars and everything we knew was fake. A mirage. A simulation.\n\nThe first reaction was terror. Screaming, riots, fire, all the time, everywhere. It was quite interesting, yet at the same time, extremely expected.\n\nThe second reaction, about a week after the fear set in, was the crime wave. The entire world fell into disarray as people stole, killed, wrecked, because it didn't matter. It was all a simulation, so what was anyone going to care?\n\nThere was a third reaction, but only from a few types of people. Hackers. Speed runners. Glitchers. People like me, trying to find cracks in the system. However, I wasn't like them.\n\nI could never be like them.\n\nIt was my mission to put back the world. The first step of that was hacking the system. Once I figured out how to see and manipulate the code, I could fix everything.\n\nI could bring her back.",
"\"So you're saying we are coded into some type of alternate reality?\" John said.\n\n\"Yup, and using this handy, dandy connection we can plug directly into the code, and update it.\" \n\n\"That's not a toupee or transplant is it?\"\n\n\"Nope, just rewrote a little section of code. I just need to know your birth day, your full name and your social security number or license number. Seriously, that's all I need.\" Tom the scientist pulled out what looked to be a simple power cord, complete withe three sharp prongs at the end, and then proceeded to stick them into the ground. They were standing in John's nondescript back yard. The sun was drawing low on the horizon, the sky turning shades of orange and red. \n\n\"So if I give you my credentials, you could change anything about me?\"\n\n\"Yup, in fact, I already found your creds on some paperwork at the lab. Feeling a bit thinner today?\"\n\n\"As a matter of fact, I dropped like two waist sizes while I slept. That was you?\"\nTom smiled, flashing his now perfectly white teeth. John continued, \"you trimmed down some weight yourself didn't you. And you added what two inches to your height.\"\n\nTom smiled, \"that's not the only thing I added inches too.\"\n\n\"Oh my God, you enlarged your dick, didn't you? Christ, we are going to be rich!\"\n\n\n",
"The soft humming of the fans and the clacking of a single keyboard were the only sounds that broke the silence in the large research lab. My team of 60 sat in their chairs, all of us staring at the large tv screen we had set up at one end of the room. Over 10 years of work was about to come to fruition. We had run many small tests on different parts of the system while they weren’t networked, but this would be the moment that we finally powered up the entire network at the same time.\n\nBev was the one typing at the computer. She was lead programmer and had been instrumental in the implementation of the project that I had staked my entire livelihood on. All my millions made from game development had been funneled directly into this project, but if it was successful we would all go down in history.\n\nI looked around at my team, all of them staring at the screen, no one talking or even moving. Scientists and engineers from all walks of life were staring, mesmerized, as the various systems powered on. Geologists, Biologists, Physicists, Computer engineers, civic engineers, anthropologists. Besides me, everyone in this room had multiple PHDs. They were quite literally the smartest people in the world, and they were all in one room together working on the same project.\n\nThinking back, it didn’t start this ambitious. 12 years ago, I released a game called “Alternate Life.” I had worked on it in my parent’s basement for years and didn’t expect much on release. I would have been happy with a small dedicated user base. I got extremely lucky when a popular youtuber decided to pick up the game, and suddenly it exploded in popularity. I added multiplayer functions after hiring a small dev team and my game spread all around the world. Everyone had an Alternate Life. My company grew to be larger than any other social media or game company in the world, bigger than Facebook, than World of Warcraft, than anything that had come before and has come since. \n\nI wanted to do more though. I got bored of releasing update after update to my game. That is when I realized the best way to make a sequel to Alternate Life. We would make a new type of simulation game. A game that perfectly simulates real life down to its smallest detail. \n\nThere were many roadblocks along the way. Most people said it couldn’t be done, but I didn’t hire those people. I found the most visionary, the most passionate people in the world, and most importantly, the most intelligent, then I paid them an exorbitant amount of money to join my team. My funding has dwindled as Alternate Life has reached the end of its life cycle, but it won’t matter after today.\n\nBev sat back in her chair and let out a deep breath. It was the first break in the silence for what seemed like hours. She turned back to face the rest of the researchers and said, “This is it everyone, pre-alpha test 1 of Alternate Reality. Does anyone have anything to say before I start the simulation?” She looked over at me in particular, so I stood up and faced the group of nervous geniuses. \n\n“Listen,” I said, trying to get over my fear of public speaking, “It has been 10 long years of trials and hardships. Many of you have given up careers, social lives, and even your own health for the success of this project. It will not be in vain. When this simulation runs, we will not only prove wrong everyone who doubted us, but we will have created something truly new and unique. We will go down in human history as the ones who proved, without a doubt, that not only is the universe deterministic, but that humans are strong enough, intelligent enough, and resolute enough to spit in the face of this universe. We will seize control of our destiny today, and with that control will come true freedom the likes of which humans have never known!” \n\nI slipped the cards I had prepared the night before back into my pocket. After a moment of silence everyone began to cheer. We all moved in around the screen, all of us wanting a good view of what was going to happen. \n\nI turned to Bev and, after resting a hand on her shoulder, said, “Flip the switch.”\n\nThe hum of the thousands of servers throughout the underground complex was overwhelming. For a moment the ground rumbled as the generators kicked into overdrive and the AC units kicked into high gear to keep the massive server farm cool. The lights dimmed slightly, but no one looked away from the screen. We had accounted for the electrical and heating needs properly, and all the units were hand fabbed in our facility. We knew they would hold. \n\nThe screen flickered, and after a moment, an image appeared. No, a video. Of a group of scientists huddled around a screen, also with a video of a group of scientists around a screen. The images were repeating infinitely. After a moment, I realized that those were the same scientists that were in the room with me. I turned around, looking for the camera.\n\n“All right team very funny, but we don’t need pranks right now, not on our big day. Whoever set up the camera fess up and fix it so we can test the simulation.” He said, looking at the group around him. Everyone was looking in the same general direction, looking for the camera. Except for Bev. She was staring at the screen, slackjawed. \n\n“Bev what’s wrong. Were you the one who set this up?” I asked. \n\n“No Boss. Um. I’m not sure how to say this, but…” She gulped and looked at her small monitor that was showing diagnostic screens. “This is the simulation.”\n\nI looked closer. No, it couldn’t be. The group perfectly mimicked what was happening in the real world. He could see himself leaning in closer to look at the screen. Wait. Something was off. Normally in an infinite scenario with a camera there is movement lag due to the latency from the camera to the display. But this was like looking through a window. Even the screen within the picture was instantly updating. \n\n“Try spawning a cube in the room. That will prove if this is the simulation or not,” said Danashri, a computer engineer. \n\nBev began typing frantically, and with a few commands and a couple clicks, she spawned a box in the air behind the scientists. \n\nI heard a loud thump behind me as the box hit the ground.\n\n---\n\n^^^Read ^^^more ^^^of ^^^my ^^^work ^^^at ^^^/r/PenithceaChronicles/\n",
"Part One\n--------------------------\n“Do we publish?”\n\nThe question hung in the room. \n\n\n\nThat question had undoubtedly haunted each of us in its own way over the years, burrowing its way almost impossibly deep into our psyches, affecting not only how we saw the world as individuals but also how we approached the research. We had worked, in the beginning, with bright eyes and nervous energy, eager to prove ourselves and demonstrate the validity of our theories. The hypothesis was nothing new to any of us and was something that had even been discussed on the evening news from time to time. We could thank Mr. Musk for that...\n\nWhat had started in the first months as a vigorous, almost frenetic exercise in the rigors of fundamental physics and mathematics gradually turned into years of mechanical data gathering and verification. The data came slowly at first…just a piece here and there, sometimes on purpose, sometimes by chance, but as our techniques refined and as our budget grew the data ballooned from insufficient to overwhelming before any of us had a chance to process the implications. This theory, this thing that we had all spent so long thinking over and idly pondering with something like a sense of forward looking nostalgia, had turned from a funky idea that no one other than a few rebellious Ph.D candidates from some Podunk backwoods university would be stupid enough to actually study, into what would undoubtedly be viewed as the single most important scientific discovery in all of history. \n\n“Do we publish?” Dr. Liu asked again. \n\n“How can we not?” Dr. Schroder replied quietly, breaking the group’s silence. Always the cautious one, he typically avoided making any definitive statements or assertions, often preferring to simply offer his data and arguments and allowing others to draw their own conclusions. Today though, he seemed resolute in his decision and willing to go to war for it. \n\n“We have not only discovered, but have proven beyond the shadow of a doubt, the only universal truth that has ever mattered. We are nothing. We are the playthings of a superior being. We have no agency, no true personhood, no meaning. Descartes be damned. I may think, but I certainly, most definitely, most definitively, am not.” It was as many words as I’d ever heard Dr. Schroder speak in one go since meeting him all those years ago, though the cynicism was nothing new. \n\nThe room grew quiet again. Dr. Schroder looked around at each of us nervously, likely self-conscious of how much he had spoken, wondering if we were all judging him for it. \n\nThe moments stretched, tightened. Finally, Dr. Jennings brought a new thought forward. \n\n“Does it matter?” She asked, genuinely searching. \n\n“What do you mean, does it matter?” Dr. Schroder replied with an excessive dose of patronizing sarcasm. “Of course it…!”\n\n“No, you misunderstand me,” Dr. Jennings interrupted as Dr. Schroder’s eyes began to bulge, “obviously the discovery matters, what I mean to say is, does the nature of our existence matter? Whether we are quarks and gluons and bosons and fermions and all manner of other messy particles, or whether we are simply patterns of energy on some unknown substrate acting in accordance to rules we do not fully understand…does that matter?” Some of us still did not understand what Dr. Jennings was trying to imply. \n\n“Regardless of the substrate, regardless of whether we were created with intent or are an infinitesimal accident of the boundless machinations of the cosmos…does it matter? Our perceptive experience is not altered by the confirmation of our original hypothesis. The sun will continue to feel warm, winter will remain cold. Death will still cause us to grieve and a child’s laughter will continue to make me smile. Dr. Schroder will continue to be…Dr. Schroder.” We all considered her words, and her meaning. Dr. Schroder’s forehead vein pulsed. A few brief moments passed.\n\n“Regardless of the consistency of Dr. Schroder’s continued curmudgeonliness,” Dr. Lockhart responded, fully aware and smugly confident of his incorrect English, “or the continued warmth of the sun, I do not believe that any of us can reasonably assert the non-applicability of any supposed creator’s intent to our decision.” \n\n“If,” he continued, “well…I guess it’s not an if anymore, is it? Since we have proven our simulatory nature…,” he was really on a roll with the made-up words today, “we can no longer avoid the question of intent. In light of Dr. Jennings argument, we must concede that regardless of any of our individual interpretations of this information and how we do or do not choose to deal with it personally, there will be people who wish to continue living their lives, feeling the warmth of the sun and making babies cry and all that.” \n\n“With respect to those individuals who wish to maintain some measure of stability to their existence, we are morally obligated to ask whether or not there may be an intent behind the simulation that we find ourselves in as its presence and nature could impact the continuation of our existence.” Universal agreement could be seen amongst those of us in the lecture hall, obviously if we were created for an intended purpose we should at least make some attempt to understand that purpose before potentially compromising it. \n\n“Now, as it specifically relates to the decision we have before us, I believe there to be three possible answers to the question of intent.” Most of us were eager to hear Dr. Lockhart’s thoughts, though Dr. Schroder still seemed to be sending up a cloud of steam from his forehead. Dr. Lockhart continued. \n\n“Scenario one: There is no intent. Though a simulation, we came about accidentally, were abandoned, or are subject to some other equally implausible explanation. In this scenario, our actions today have no effect on the continued status of the simulation.” Quiet consent greeted him so far, most of us agreeing this was a remote possibility. \n\n“Scenario two: We were created to simulate a specific something, a specific alternate history, a specific true past or perhaps just for leisure, and revealing our findings will cause the simulation to either collapse or become less useful to its creator and result in subsequent termination.” Nods around the room…\n\n“Third,” he said, holding up three fingers on his right hand, “third scenario: We were created for some unknown purpose, and distribution of our results will not cause the simulation to end.” I snorted at this almost exactly in time with both Dr. Jennings and Dr. Schroder, each of us intuitively dismissing it. Dr. Liu appeared to consider it more thoughtfully however, and eventually responded. \n\n",
"\"What is it?\" Grant asked. \"Doctor King, just what the hell is it?\"\n\n\"Proof,\" King said, lighting a cigarette and drawing a deep breath. Not much point to clean living anymore, though the heavy gut bulging over King's belt and the gin blossoms scattered across his nose were not the hallmarks of a life lived healthily. \"Of the Moravec Hypothesis.\"\n\nGrant spun, the knee-high stalks of wheat brushing against his jeans with barely a sound. He stood in a field just north of Esperance, Western Australia. About a hundred miles from the southern ocean. When the wind was right, you could smell the salt and the sea from the Great Southern wheat fields--an endless sea in its own right, golden stalks swaying, waving, in the breeze that blew hot from the north in the morning, cold from the south in the afternoon.\n\n\"Impossible,\" Grant said.\n\nKing waved a hand at the anomaly hovering just above the field of wheat, a singular tear in the fabric of the world, a doorway into nothing. If the world was a painting stretched thin over nothing, then the thing that hovered ten feet tall, three wide, was a burn through the canvas. \"Tell me the readings you're getting aren't an affront to every law of physics, everything we knew to be true. I brought you in on this to confirm what I already know. Tell me it doesn't read like corrupted code to you, Grant?\"\n\nGrant's eyes slid from the laptop in his hands to Doctor King and back. He stared into the tear in reality, a multitude of colour spinning within its impossible depths, dim but constant. He moved around the anomaly, running a circle into the wheat crop. The tear disappeared when viewed from the east, returned in the south, the west, and began to fade again at the north. \n\nHe couldn't dispute the readings, as much as he wanted to...\n\n\"So... we're in a simulation. The universe is just... lines of code. Are we real?\"\n\nKing shrugged. \"Does it matter? We could be a simulation inside a simulation, and so on, so on, infinite regression. If there's someone or something at the beginning, we'll never know.\"\n\nGrant swallowed hard. \"Who's running our simulation?\"\n\nA smile touched King's face, stretched into a grin that didn't reach his eyes. \"As far as we can tell... no one. These tears, the other anomalies all across the world, like the disappearance of two million people in Guangzhou, or Niagara Falls flowing *upwards*, are only the beginning.\" \n\n\"The beginning of what?\"\n\nKing flicked the stub of his cigarette into the source code of the universe. The butt spun, hovered, disintegrated. \"Think about it, Grant. We live in a simulation, a false reality, a video game, *that is no longer being maintained*. What do you think happens next?\"\n\nGrant dropped his laptop and exhaled slowly, a sigh stretching toward despair. \"Oh,\" he said. \"Shit.\"\n\nDr King nodded. \"Indeed. Pub for lunch?\""
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[WP] Reddit, Facebook, and Quora walk into a bar...
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"(You've probably heard this one before but here it goes either way)\n\nReddit, Facebook, and Quora walk into a bar.\n\nAs the three sit down they begin to converse.\n\n\"I'm glad to be with you guys today,\" said Facebook. \"It's been tough with Instagram and everything, but I'm making my way through this rough patch.\"\n\n\"We're always here for you,\" Quora assured him. \"If you need anything, just ask.\"\n\n\"You can come to me, Face, any time!\" Reddit popped in, \"tell me whatever you want and I'll listen.\"\n\n\"Thanks guys, but I don't think I'll be able to go much further. I'm growing old and everyone else is surpassing me in every way.\"\n\n\"You'll make it man.\" Quora was trying his best at comforting him but he could really see the sadness in his eyes. \"You'll always be the best one anyways.\"\n\n\"That's a bit of a stretch, bud,\" Reddit cut in once again. \"We all know I'm the best and I'll always be.\"\n\nQuora simply replied, \"I was just trying to help him out a little through tough times. No need to be a dick to him or me. Anyways, I will always surpass your idiotic and young population.\"\n\n\"Come on guys, no need to fight!\" Facebook was trying to step in and stop, but he was too old for this conflict.\n\n\"At least I don't have stupid character requirements!\" Reddit said.\n\n\"Well most of my users have an education and experience in the real world!\" Quota insisted.\n\n\"Don't make me come over there and punch you...\"\n\n\"Hey, hey, hey! Come on guys, don't fight,\" the bartender stepped in. \"You know, you guys wouldn't be jack shit without me anyways.\"\n\nInternet solved that conflict and turned to 9gag and iFunny. Their autistic screeches could be heard from miles away."
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[WP] They don't call it "live"r for nothing. Your recent liver transplant has you ready to take on the world again. You were warned to refrain from all alcohol but this liver came from a professional beer taster. A daily quota of hoppy IPAs must be consumed or your liver will reject your body.
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"When I woke up in my hospital bed and saw the nurse adjusting the IV drip I felt absolutely thrilled to be alive, despite her resembling my ex-wife. It was an exhilarating feeling unlike anything I'd ever awoken to, and it wasn't just psychological: although I hadn't fully repossessed control of my limbs I knew my whole body was itching to move, and I had an urge to talk which I cautiously repressed. I thought I was high and opted to remain in observation mode for a bit longer while the remaining effects of whatever anesthetic I’d been administered wore off. \n\nSuddenly satisfied with the rate at which the clear liquid flew down the tube to my arm, the nurse was now presenting a smile larger than anything I'd ever seen on my ex-wife's face even before we got married. \"She's… so... h-hot,\" I thought I'd thought. \n\n\"What?\" the nurse replied, confused. \n\n\"Wha...?\" I said, equally confused, and the nurse chuckled, almost taunting me it seemed, while looking at what I supposed was a chart on the wall over my head, which confused me even more. \n\n\"WHA...?!\" I repeated.\n\n\"It's alright, honey, it's alright,\" she laughed, and then, only slightly less playful, she announced: \"Your operation went very well, there's nothing to worry about.\"\n\n“O-op-pera-… shun…?”\n\nIt was then that I remembered having no memory whatsoever of setting foot in this hospital. Surprisingly, I did not panic at the realization, but grew increasingly curious. I wanted to ask questions but, my neck aching, I lowered my eyes and calmly examined the situation before them. The nurse pressed a button on a remote she'd picked up somewhere near me that I hadn't seen, promptly put it back there still without me noticing where, and then, with the kind of sigh that usually marks a brief pause in an otherwise uninterrupted succession of chores, she picked up a different object and suggested: \"Now, sweetie, if you'd kindly stop staring at my breasts and exhale in this tube for me, please?\"\n\n\"Wha...? No-o... aye... wasun't...\"\n\n\"Breathe,\" she commanded, and gently forced the tube in my mouth. \n\n“B’ee’!” I tried to sing while gnawing on the piece on plastic. “B’ee’in dee’ai’!”\n\n“Not now, darling. Just breathe,” the nurse scolded, like she would’ve a child. “Now’s not the time for Pink Floyd.”\n\nAt that moment resounded two quick knocks at the door, immediately succeeded by the entrance of two men in white overalls. The man I presumed in charge – because he was taller, appeared more mature, wore glasses, and was Asian – walked to the front of my bed and stood there motionless, speechless, while the goofier-looking one, who seemed no older than my own boy, paced straight to the nurse.\n\n\"What's his B.A.C.?\" Goofy asked.\n\n\"0.055,\" the nurse answered casually, referring to a display attached to the end of the tube she'd just gagged me with, and finally removing it.\n\n\"Tha... that's, like, the low-... the LOWEST... my bod-... body... uhh, my temperature... has, like, ever, EVER been,\" I managed to stutter.\n\nGoofy rolled his eyes. “Bring it up to 0.075 after we brief him,” he said with a nod. “Don’t let it drop below 0.060.”\n\n“Good evening, Mr. Jouvier.” Without warning, as if the words had been burning on his tongue, the tall mature bespectacled Asian man spouted an introduction. (I was surprised, not only because his speech began at the exact millisecond that Goofy’s interaction with the nurse, on which I had been trying to focus, ended, but mostly because he pronounced my name “Dju-vee-ay”, as us frogs would’ve, rather than “Jo-veer”, as Americans normally did.) “I am doctor Nguyen. I will be overseeing your post-op recovery. Yes, I am proud to say that the transplant was a success. Congratulations.”\n\n“T-t-trans-… pl-plant… you m-mean, like…”\n\n“Yes. Liver transplant, specifically. We’ve saved your life, Mr. Jouvier.”\n\n“M-my liver… izzit o-o-o-o… o-o-o-o…. o-k-kay?”\n\n“Well, no: technically, your liver is awfully diseased. We’ve actually de-LIVER-ed you!” \n\nDoctor Nguyen let out a single “ha!” then smiled and paused to cue in laughter, like a stand-up comic on his first night expecting the crowd to go wild at banter he’d thought too genius for peer review, but was confronted instead to an embarrassing ten seconds of bemused silence, broken only by the sound of Goofy clearing his throat, which the Doctor interpreted as disapproval.\n\n“If it’s of any consolation it made a delicious dinner,” riposted the Doctor. \n\n“You… ate… my l-liver?!”\n\n“Liver?! I barely knew ‘er!” The smirk on the Doctor’s face could not have been any wider, and yet, to his apparent disarray, still: silence. “Well anyway,” he ultimately conceded, “we’ve got you a new liver now. We hope you’ll care take of it like you did the previous one.”\n\nI snickered at what I figured was sarcasm. “Y-yeah, r-right… s-sure, d-doc-…” \n\n“This is very serious,” interjected Goofy. “You see, Mr. Dju-vee-ay (he accentuated every syllable of the new pronunciation with great certitude), when we rushed you in the ER, you were diagnosed with Type C hepatic encephalopathy and doctor Nguyen here personally assessed that the cirrhosis would’ve killed you within the night unless we proceeded to a liver transplant right away. Unfortunately, you weren’t on our organ transplant waiting list, obviously, and so we had to… erm, improvise.”\n\n“W-wh…”\n\n“Please let me finish. The organ donor from whom you obtained your new liver, Mr. Jouvier, was a renowned, professional Belgian beer taster.”\n\n“Y-y-you w-went a-a-all… the w-way… to Eu-u-r-rope?! To f-f-find m-me a-a-…” \n\nGoofy puffed exasperatedly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Mr. Jouvier. What I meant was: your providential liver came from an expert taster of Belgian ales. Now, Mr. Jouvier: in order to prevent your body from rejecting the newly transplanted organ, you will require to be medicated hourly with lupus salictarius. Amarillo, Centenial, Columbus, CTZ, Simcoe, anything of the sort.”\n\n“Aye… d-don’t-t-und-d…”\n\n“Hops, Mr. Jouvier. From now on, you will necessitate hourly consummations of hoppy IPA beers. Doctor Nguyen has prescribed Russian River Brewing’s Pliny the Elder.”\n\nI waited until I was more or less certain that Goofy was done with his explanations, and, having inferred that treatment was to begin without delay, slowly let my jaw drop while shifting my gaze onto Doctor Nguyen.\n\n“Now, now, Mr. Jouvier, I understand your concern. I’m more of a whisky man myself,” the doctor sympathized. “But you’ll have to trust in our medical expertise, Mr. Jouvier. My grandfather, who in the 60s was a KPA medic, performed a very similar and successful operation on – yes, you’ve guessed it, Kim Jong-un himself! There is an old Chinese saying, Mr. Jouvier: ‘*Shi yao san fen du*,’ that is, ‘any drug is at least 30% poison.’”\n\n“I thought ‘Nguyen’ was a Vietnamese name?” the nurse interrupted with a glare. \n\n“Vietnamese, Korean, Chinese, what’s it all to you, whiteys?” rebuked Doctor Nguyen. “This is the 21st century, nurse; you should have a more inclusive mind. Ahem! In any case, Mr. Jouvier, we do believe this to be in your best interest. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have other patients to visit, but we’ll make sure to check on you frequently. Cheers!” \n\nWith that, Doctor Nguyen and Goofy hastily walked out the door and slammed it shut. I stared at it blankly for a while. I wanted to pinch myself, make sure I wasn’t dreaming; I couldn’t believe my luck. My ex-wife (before we divorced, of course), she’d told me that the drink would kill me; if it didn’t, she’d added, she would, eventually. And now, what chance! Not only hadn’t I seen her or my son for a full year after the separation; as it turned out, drinking would not kill me: it was going to save me! My vice had become my redemption! \n\n“Uhh… ‘re you… a-are you gon’ p-pour ma b-bee’ee’eer… d-d-dir-rect-tly i-in-t-ther’?” I asked the nurse, weakly lifting my arm to point in the drip’s general direction.\n\n“Oh, dear, no! That’s a morphine drip, sweetie,” she said with her original warm smile. \n\nShe walked a few feet away and I heard her open and close a cooler, followed by a fizzy “ptssh!” and a bottle cap dropping on the ceramic floor. She came back to my bedside with a beer in her hand, which she lifted to my lips and tilted slightly. “Here, Mr. Jouvier, you can take your medication the old-fashioned way,” she proclaimed as I excitedly downed the glorious nectar. With my last gulp she tossed the empty bottle aside and stood up.\n\n“I’ll be back to take your B.A.C. in an hour, Mr. Jouvier,” she notified me on her way out.\n\n“C-c-could’djou… g-get me a p-p-… p-p-poutine… w-w-when you…”\n\n“What’s that, darling?”\n\n“A p-p-pout-TINE…” I repeated. “Fuh… Fuh… Fuhrench f-f-fries… g-gravy… a-an’ ch-ch-ch-chEEse… y’-y’-y’know…” \n\nShe smiled. \n\n“I’ll see what I can do, honey,” she said, and, with a faint but mischievous wink, she was gone."
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[WP] You've discovered a cave with a space time anomaly that leads to an apocalyptic future.
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"I sat at my desk, quiet. A pencil sat in my hand, and a pad of paper before me.\n\nIt had been three days since I moved the boulder lodged in that natural stone arch. Beyond was a scene of devastation. A city on fire. Strange aircraft without wings, just fins that changed shape in flight, capable of astonishing maneuvering. \n\nWhat could I do? What should I do? \n\nThe word 'scientists' was crossed out. I didn't know any. Even if I could find some, who could I convince to hike out to the middle of some national park with me? Under what pretense could I get them into the middle of nowhere? \n\nThe word 'government' was crossed out. What would they do with it? Send tanks? Nothing moved like the things I saw on the other side of that portal. Another world was a resource - government would want to exploit it, but there was a threat unlike anything I'd ever seen beyond that archway.\n\nWord after word was crossed out, discarded plans, diagrams, phone numbers. Only one thing still remained. I turned my eyes to the garage. The archway wasn't very sturdy. Wedge a chisel in, and a few blows from the sledge would probably break it. \n\nHow many people lived there? Were they being exterminated? Enslaved? Was the gate some attempt by the invaders gone awry, trying to break through to other Earths to dominate? If that were the case, how many Earths were lost? If this misplaced portal broke down, would they bother to find this Earth again, or would they write it off as a failed connection and move on to other prey? The gate might be a way to save someone. Anyone . . . at the risk of our entire world. Perhaps our whole solar system, our galaxy, who know how pervasive it might be?\n\nIt was midnight when I threw my stoneworking tools into the back of my truck, and took the first step in abandoning uncounted infinities of people to their fate. I cut them loose like dead wood. Just scraped them off my shoe and kept on walking.\n\nI know you don't believe me. You don't have to. What's done is done, and they haven't been seen for twenty-five years since that day. But our hour is almost up, and you still think I'm crazy.\n\nYes, I'm willing to come for another session. It's not as if I have a choice. Yes, two days is fine. I'll see you on Friday, doctor."
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'Rush of power' can be either literal (supernatural) or metaphorical (unquestioning obedience).
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[WP] The cult mistaking you for their god was a surprise, their offer of human sacrifice even more shocking... but the biggest surprise of all was the rush of power that came with it.
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[
"I’m dreaming. It’s a nightmare. It just cannot be real; it feels like some cliché movie. The terror in his eyes feels real. Dark, flickering eyes not once looking away from me. Out of all these people, he was the first one I met, I blame him for all of this, but I don't want this. He doesn't deserve death.\n\nMy grades were trash and my motivation to continue studying was even more lackluster. So I deferred. I procrastinated on my future and booked flights to Europe. Like every other millennial I went out on a gap year to find meaning in life. I wanted some great adventure. Searching for purpose, I went looking in Eastern Europe. \n\nSamvel was looking at me with a silent desperation too thunderous to break away from.\n\nBored with Europe, I backpacked through turkey and ended up in Armenia where the Dormant volcano Ararat dwarfed Khor Virap, the deep dungeon Monastery.\n\nLonely and anxious about my future I absent-mindedly weaved in and out of nowhere wishing for purpose. Aggressively I got knocked to the ground, and grabbed my head “Christ!” A rather large hand was open in front of me.\n\n“Apologies, you should watch where you walk, you are tourist?”\n\n“Urghh, yeah sorry” I mumbled and stood up.\n\n“You have interesting eyes.”\n\nTaken aback but used to the commentary, I looked him up and down.\n\n“Yeah they kinda change with the light sometimes, this one has always been an odd yellow, and the other changes from blue to green from time to time.”\n\nHe seemed to be studing me as if trying to decide if I was lying to him or not.\n\n“My name is Samvel, what is your name?” extending his hand to me again.\n\nShaking his hand I replied with “Alex” and felt it briefly tighten in surprise.\n\n\nChanting snapped me back to the scene infront. The songs grew loud making me feel dizzy and uneasy. Samvel continued to look at me. I couldn't focus on anything in the ceremony around me but him. “Alex,! Do you now what Samvel means in our language,..” He gazed at me determined “it means ‘god has heard.’” All around the town centre the chanting increased to a shrill. The Air grew in it an unshakeable tension. I could barely breathe. Thick hot air clung to my chest. I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up before I drowned, and then the shrill screams of monks tore at me and Samvel simply nodded. A milky white dagger plunged through the back of his neck poking through as a vibrant red spike. The atmosphere turned silent leaving a feint ringing in my ears. The thick air was replaced with calm easy breaths.\n\n\n“Alex, let me show you this place properly. No guidebooks, this land and its history are thousands of years old. My family can show you proper food and the hills side is breathtaking to see the sunset.”\n\n“Oh.. its okay” trying to decline politely.\n\n“ You must come, at least as a way for me to apologies for knocking you down and breaking your camera.”\n\nI quickly looked down at a cracked iPhone on the floor. “dammit” I picked it up and pressed the buttons trying to turn it on. “shit, I had my itinerary details on here”\n\n“itinerary?”\n\n“Yeah, where I was staying and my flight details home and stuff”\n\n“You come back to my place, my family cooks you dinner, use my brother’s computer to get your details and all will be okay”\n\nThe last moments of my normal life were following a kind stranger to his home, sharing food with him and then falling asleep.\n\n I woke to chanting and many eyes staring out me through robes and plain clothes.\n\n“”Be calm protector, you are safe now. He heard you, we all heard you.” A Palm was pushed against my head and a fell back to darkness.\n\nThe next couple days were strange and confusing. As long as I didn't freak out I was allowed to walk around. It was a commune with many people. The place was filled mainly with Monks and plain clothed women and children. The buildings and small town felt old. Very Old. No one would talk to me, but many bowed. The only interaction I had was near the courtyard garden. Tugging at my pants was a small girl offering me an apple. She smiled at me warmly. “Odzi, leave him alone.” Her mother gracefully running over to take her away “Apologies Alex.” \n\n“Wait!” I caught up to her “please… what is this place, how do you know who I am?”\n\nA sad smile washed over her “They haven’t told you anything?”\n\nI shook my head.\n\nShe looked around then in a hushed tone whispered, “It is written in the book of our people that a lost traveler would come to us with an eye of ember and an eye of the sea. He will come to protect all mankind.” She turned to leave..\n\nI grabbed her arm desperately “But I didn't come to you! I was kidnapped, I don't even know where this is!”\n\nShe smiled sympathetically and walked away.\n\nTwo days later, surrounded by monks in grey I was lead to the town centre where Samvel was on his knees, hands tied behind his back. \n\n“Alex, Protector of mankind, you are still just flesh and heart, an empty vessel.”\nBehind Samvel an opaque knife was unsheathed.\n\n“To you, Samvel offers himself as the first sacrifice. Our land and the earth around us suffocates in bloodshed and suffering. We relinquish our suffering and spill our blood to you, to protect the future.” Samvel’s nervous eyes touched mine.\n\n\nThe ringing in my ears was replaced by the dripping of Samvel’s blood hitting the stone below. Each drop sent shivers up my spine. Each breath I drew, I felt warmer. At first I thought it was shock but the strange calmness inside grew into something more hideous. Confidence bubbled as the next sacrifice kneeled before me. Excitement flashed across my face.\n\nWith each nod the white blade become stained. The tingly in my fingers became a rush. Each body before me my eagerness to see a dark red knife grew. Finally I felt like light like the air around us, and strong and knowing like the earth beneath us. Stepping forward I looked at the bed of sacrifices. I outstretched my arm and opened my palms to them “thank you for you blessings, you will forever have mine” and with that, flames erupted around the bodies sending their flesh to the heavens as ashes. \n\nWatching the smoke curl and dance towards the sun I smiled and felt at peace.\nI will protect mankind, I will go forth into the modern world and consume mankind’s biggest enemy and fulfil my purpose. I will protect mankind from itself.\n\n",
"It felt l.... weird, to say the least, like a lightning bolt struck me, like some form of energy went through me, it felt like...... like..... It felt great. \n \nThe human sacrifice was a surprise to be sure, but the powers that came with it made it a welcome one. I dont know how it happen, or what they did, maybe the guy they sacrificed was special, maybe I stole them from him, but it does not matter. They are mine now, and I love them. \n \nThe discovery of my powers were weird to say the least. I discovered the power of telekinesis by thinking about the T.V. remote and not wanting to get up. Why it only works on electrical appliances is beyond my understanding, but it helps when I need the remote and can not find it. \n \nThe power to control the mind of my pet rat was also a weird small thing, it's really useful to get some extra money by making him perform and do tricks. The most surprising power I actually got was a different one though. It was not a classical superman power. Neither was it a power you'd think of when trying to come up with fun supernatural powers. \nEither way, I am defenitally happy with the power manipulating internet upvotes and points, you already got to the reddit front page a number of times, and almost all of your comments have at least 1000+ upvotes. \nIs it the most useful power ? \nNo, but you like it, and someone sacrificed himself for them, so you are gonna use them "
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[WP] A dragon disguised as a human travels with a dragonslayer for fun and profit
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"“You know we’re not all that thick right?” Sir Coranstirne considered it insulting that Fleg thought a cheap wig and fake breasts worn as a necklace was sufficient disguise. The two sat around the fire Fleg had thrown up earlier. \nFleg responded, her voice deep and rumbling, carried on a scent of burnt meat. “I’m well aware.” The way her jaw flapped open and shut, pine needle like teeth on full display, had little relation to what he’d heard. “But it’s what works.” \n \nCoran had to begrudgingly admit that Fleg had indeed managed to enter the nearest town and purchase the supplies needed for a good couple of nights. She’d even got less suspicious looks than he would have. After all he’d not taken off his heavy armour in a few weeks and didn’t remember what colour it was under rusted bandit blood. \nBut it still wasn’t fair that 10 ton reptile with a wingspan of several meters and jaws that could swallow most people whole got a free pass just because everyone knew dragons didn’t have hair or mammary glands. “But why do you bother?” He had to ask her.\n\nFleg considered before answering. “It’s simple really, people have their uses. A dragonslayer such as yourself is an asset. You just need to be pointed to the appropriate place. After all, I’d also rather there were fewer fights between hot-headed adolescent males.”\n\n",
"Twirling moons, nostalgic boys, an eternal shooting star. Their eyes never left the star's trail - nor did their minds leave the future. \n\n\"Tomorrow.\" Harrison said. \n\"I know.\" Elon replied. \n\nThey both watched the star and said nothing. It was a cooperative silence.\n\nTheir concern grew as the star grew closer to them and lit up the sky in a wash of purple and pink, long flames firing off from the star as it fell closer and closer. Harrison leaned up and Elon stood, the both of them staring with more amazement than fear. \n\nIt landed without a sound and towered over the field and the boys, and the trees and the town - its head reached far into the sky and its eyes stared down at Elon and Harrison, its cat-like slits glaring at the two of them. \n\n**\"A fine pair to witness. See me, cattle, and recall a word: dragonfire.\"**\n\n_______________________________________________________________\n\nPurple flame: a friend lost. A home lost. Elon remembered that night and the dragon's fire. Forgetting it was impossible - every moment his eyes were open, there were blind spots throughout his vision from that bright night. When he shut his eyes he only saw Harrison's wide eyes and soundless scream of agony as he was engulfed in fire. \n\nHe'd left his charred home, followed the dragon's trail of fire back to his nest, and found its sloppy domain: skeletons, bodily waste, and giant pens of humans and livestock lined the walls. The dragon itself was asleep. A nest rested in the middle of the room, containing a large sack of fist-sized eggs. Elon couldn't kill the dragon and he knew that. \n\nSo he destroyed the eggs, freed the dragon's prisoners, and watched as hundreds of shattered men and women fell upon the beast and ripped into its eyes and exposed flesh, its roars dying into whimpers as it realized its young had been killed. Elon couldn't find himself to feel guilt for the dragon's loss. \n\nHe became a hermit after that, fleeing into the woods as those he saved praised him as a dragon slayer. He studied, trained, and used his share of the dragon's hoard to equip himself. By the time he'd become a man he was ready to accept his mantle as a dragon slayer. \n\nSome time passed and Elon turned into what all boys aspired to be - a hero. Looking at the wheezing body of another dragon, its bright yellow eyes wide with terror, Elon didn't feel very heroic. The king's representative patted his shoulder. \n\n\"Well done! You've done it again, Dragonslayer. Very impressive.\" \n\nElon set his spear beside him and knelt by the dragon, meeting its terrified glare. He smiled. \n\nHe wasn't the hero he'd wanted to be, but he was a hero nonetheless. \n\n_______________________________________________________________\n\nA year passed. Towns burned, dragons died, and Elon grew more depressed. He'd never stopped his warpath to mourn the death of his friend; in a way, this occupation was his way of mourning. \n\nOne morning he decided it wasn't enough. \n\nHe left the service of the king over the court's choir of disapproval and rode back to his town. Since he took up his mantle as a dragonslayer he'd been forwarding all of his profits to his hometown - he'd never gotten to see it and the progress it'd made. He had high hopes and thought that, when his career was over, he'd settle down there and keep watch over the town. \n\nElon came home to dragonfire. \n\nHours passed. The only survivor was a woman who hid herself in the same field he and Harrison were those years prior. An introduction unheard. The woman followed Elon as he trailed the path of fire to a familiar cave. \n\nIt was recently occupied. A dragon had lived there and he found a single scale on the floor: a large, purple one, deliberately picked off the hide of the beast. It was a message meant for Elon, and he'd interpreted it exactly as intended; one of his first's children had survived and it sought revenge. As he set out to track this new rival the woman followed him without asking, and the two became an unspoken team. \n\n_______________________________________________________________________\n\nwill do more soon if this is liked",
"The fire was small, only large enough to cook food and chase away the darkness and those that lived within it. The man who tended the fire seemed to be average height but stockier than most that came through the forest. His clothes were well-worn and, though they looked clean, Rashka could smell the iron of blood coming off them.\n\nThere was a gleaming sword in the man’s hands, it’s edges freshly sharpened from the whetstone in the man had just set aside.\n\n“Are you going to stand there all night?” the man called out, not looking up from his blade as he examined his work. “I promise you, this blade is not for you.”\n\nRashka smiled, a bit indulgently, in the darkness.\n\nIf only the man knew.\n\nWith the hood of his deep green cloak up, Rashka walked out of the brush into the circle of flickering light.\n\n“That is a quick promise to make,” Rashka announced, folding his hands in front of him. “Who are you to make it?”\n\n“Jon Lykos of the Western Barrens,” the man nodded his dark head in greeting. “And what are you doing out in the middle of the Green Expanse?”\n\n“Is that so unbelievable?” Rashka asked instead, his bright green eyes flickering around the small camp. Besides a bedroll, already spread out, and a rather full bag of supplies, there was nothing of particular interest.\n\nA bit disappointing but that was not a indication of skill.\n\n“They say there is a dragon in these woods,” Jon said calmly, slipping his sword back into its sheath and setting it beside him. It was still in easy reach, Rashka noticed.\n\n“Is that so?” Rashka said, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Then why are you here?”\n\n“To slay it,” Jon said, not with a show of bravado or ego but with a calm statement of fact. “It has started to feed on the villages that boarder the great forest.”\n\nRashka kept his face expressionless but a wave of disgust went through him.\n\nHumans tasted disgusting. \n\nTo think that Vexys would sink so low...\n\nRashka rolled his shoulders, straightening his back.\n\nWell, if this one failed, others would come to take his place.\n\n“Then it seems you and I have a similar goal,” Rashka announced, smiling slightly. He hoped his teeth didn’t seem too sharp in the dim light. “I, too, would like to see this dragon killed and done away with.”\n\n“Is that so?” Jon asked, his left eyebrow raised in curiosity. “You do not have the air of a warrior about you. Are you a wizard, by chance?”\n\nRashka lifted a hand, palm up, and vines poured out of it, twirling and waving down to the forest floor where they dissolved into green embers that burned without heat until they were gone.\n\n“A very skilled one,” Rashka smirked. The human might be humble but he had no such qualms.\n\nJon nodded, impressed.\n\n“I would be thankful for the help,” he admitted before he stood up. He looked Rashka over once more. “This dragon we’re after? It’s a red one from the Fire Mountains from the East and it’s a nasty piece of work.”\n\n“Yes, I am aware,” Rashka said dryly, letting his hand drop so that the vines vanished.\n\n“It came into the Green Expanse and drove the guardian out,” Jon continued, stepping around the fire to approach Rashka properly. “They don’t know what happened to the green dragon, only that Vexys had taken over its home and treasures. The villagers think the green dragon is dead.”\n\nRashka tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as the human stopped in front of him.\n\nWith the exception of this Vexys incident, Rashka hadn’t lived as long as he had by being a simpleton.\n\n“Do you know my name, Jon Lykos of the Western Barrens?” Rashka asked slowly, his voice low as the forest seemed to still around them and it waited for the answer.\n\n“Rashka,” Jon said without hesitation, “Guardian of the Green Expanse and Protector of the Wood.” Jon placed his fist over his heart and bowed his head. “I have come to help you regain your land and destroy the intruder that dared to take it from you.”\n\nRashka watched the human for a moment, considering. Then he smiled.\n\nPerhaps this human could be of use after all.",
"\"Watch out! He's coming for you!\" Steve shouted at me. Indeed, the dragon we were slaying today had decided to approach me rather than him, but not to kill me, at least not yet.\n\nThe dragon's voice entered my head, *Why are you doing this? I can smell the dragon that you are and yet you side with the mortals who want to see us all dead!* I decided not to respond immediately to the telepathic probe. That would take away the suspense of the situation this dragon was in.\n\nAs I raised my sword with my right hand, I could feel my own dragon instincts fighting back and restraining me. But I refused to let them take over and ruin what I had worked towards.\n\nThe dragon roared in agony. *WHY!?* the dragon's mind bellowed at me. I looked to the right, and realized I had missed my chance to take the strike. Steve's sword was wedged between two of the dragon's ribs.\n\nIn weakness, the dragon's head fell down onto the ground. His eyes stayed open. *Why would you side with the mortal races?*\n\nA sly smile crept across my face. I walked up to his left ear and whispered, \"You'll see.\"\n\nAt that moment the dragon fell unconscious. \"Is it supposed to do this?\" Steve yelled from the far side of the dragon. I ran over to where the sword was planted in the beast's gut. The sword's steel glowed with a bright blue light, and the dragon flesh around where it was planted was glowing like magma. The cracks of red-orange spread out and fractured across the dragon's surface. Up the lines of scales to the tip of his nose, across the wings, and down to the tip of his tail, the dragon was now completely covered. I looked towards Steve, \"That's exactly what the magical enchantment is supposed to do.\"\n\n\"Alright then Karen, how long are we gonna have to wait to pull it out?\"\n\n\"Not long,\" I replied. The glowing cracks in the dragon's skin were already starting to fade. \"Once the sword stops glowing and the cracks disappear, you can remove the sword.\"\n\n\"Well I'll say this, your enchantment is absolutely incredible! Who would have thought a single puncture could defeat a dragon so easily?\"\n\n\"That's why it's called magic, Steve.\" The sword stopped glowing, \"It's done. Grab your sword and let's head into town for a drink.\"\n\n\"I like the sound of that!\" Steve cheered. \"But we need to collect the bounty on this beast first. I'll go get the horses.\"\n\nOnce Steve had disappeared into the forest, I climbed into the mouth of the dragon. The saliva was acidic to human skin, but not mine, thankfully. In the darkness, I let out a puff of flame to aid my sight. As expected, the throat had closed up. Aided by my dragon muscles, I cut a chunk of the throat loose, and removed it. On the other side lay my prize: the human body of a young man, wearing no clothes. As my dragon eyes adjusted to the darkness, he woke up.\n\n*I... I thought I was killed. Where am I?*\n\n\"In your own throat,\" I responed, holding my sword defensively. He jumped, startled, and turned to face me on all fours.\n\n*It's YOU! When did you get so big? What is this place?*\n\n\"Like I said, it's your own throat. Although I guess I should say, it's your *old* throat. Why not try speaking with your new one?\"\n\nHe paused, confused, then looked back at the rest of his body and realized the lack of scales, wings, or tail. He tried to speak, but clearly didn't know quite how to yet, since only a squeak came out before he resorted to telepathy again. *Am I human? What is this? Why?*\n\n\"Calm down,\" I said, \"while you look human, you're definitely not.\" I then demonstrated this by blowing a fireball further into the corpse's digestive system. \"You're still very much a dragon in this form. But you're also new, so it will take a while for your powers to come back.\"\n\nHe stood up, using the wall of the throat for support. \"M- My p-powers?\" He was struggling with his speech, but not as much as I had when I first turned human.\n\nBefore I could explain, my heightened senses picked up the sound of distant horse hooves approaching. \"I have to go,\" I told him. \"Wait here, and you'll be safe until I get back tonight.\"\n\n\"Yo- You're leaving m- me?\" he asked reluctantly, still struggling to speak clearly.\n\n\"I have to if I want to protect my cover. Wait here and I'll explain everything when I come back tonight.\" With that, I darted back out of the corpse's mouth and ran towards the nearby river. I had to wash off the saliva before Steve got back.\n\nI was just back out of the river as Steve made it to the clearing with our horses. \"Decided to take a swim?\" he asked jokingly.\n\n\"I was getting all hot and sweaty in my armor, waiting for you to get back,\" I replied.\n\n\"That armor of yours will be nothing but rust soon if you keep that up.\" He dismounted his horse and tied them both to a tree. He then removed a large jar from one of the saddlebags. \"Now, let's drain this beast!\" Steve placed the jar on the ground just beneath the neck of the corpse, then used his sword to slash open the nearest artery. The jar was full in seconds, and blood was pooling on the ground. Steve picked up the jar and capped it with a cork stopper.\n\n\"I'll take the jar. You should wash your hands off,\" I said to Steve.\n\n\"Thanks,\" he said. He handed me the jar and walked toward the river.\n\nAs I approached the horses, Steve's started neighing in fear, and backed away. That figures though, when you carry the scent of a dragon. It took almost a year for my horse to get comfortable with my scent. I had only been with Steve for a fortnight.\n\n\"So she still doesn't like you?\" Steve yelled as he walked over.\n\n\"I guess not,\" I replied as I put the jar in one of my saddlebags.\n\n\"Too bad. Well, that reward money ain't going to collect itself!\" Steve untied and mounted his horse, and I followed suit.\n\n*One more thing,* I thought to the dragon, *what's your name?*\n\n*Argin* he replied.\n\n*Karen.*\n\nWith that, Steve and I rode off into town to collect our reward, and a couple pints of beer.\n\n---\n\nPart 2 below!",
"\"Why do I have to be the assistant?\" Nick whined from behind me. \n\n\"Because I'm hotter,\" I said without turning back to look at him. \n\n\"They don't care if you're hot,\" Nick said, catching up to me. He was six feet tall clad in steel armor from shoulder to toe with a great-sword and a massive crossbow on his back. He had a scar running down his cheek and dark eyes and short dark hair. In this form I had emulated one of my favorite princesses that I had once captured. I had long red hair, hazel eyes and I a tight fitting long sleeved tunic and trousers. I had no visible weapons. So I suppose he did look far more intimidating than I did. \n\n\"They want someone who looks intimidating,\" he said, as if reading my thoughts and brandished his great-sword, \"who looks strong!\" he held up the sword high in his left hand, \"not someone who can warm their bed at night,\" he finished, sheathing his sword.\n\nI laughed. \"Sometimes I wonder if you're less of a human than I am, Nick,\" I said. \"That's the first thing on every human's mind. I would know, the amount of knights coming after a princess I have captured is frankly, ridiculous,\" I shrugged. \"Hell, you're thinking of it right now about me, even though you know I'm a Dragon!\" I made a point looking at him and gesturing sensually. Nick blushed and looked away. \n\n\"I-I do not,\" he said. \n\n\"And regardless, swords are not the only way to display power,\" I smirked as the village came into view. \n\nNick's eyes widened. \"No, no, the last time you tried a pyromaniac display in huma-\"\n\n\"Shh!\" I said, as a rider came into view. \n\nNick opened his mouth to say something else, but I glared at him. He ground his teeth and shut up. \n\n\"Halt!\" called the rider in front of us. \n\nWe did. The man came closer and I noted he was your classic guard. Big muscles, scarred face, looking like he could crush your skull between his fingers.\n \n\"Who are ye?\" he asked. \n\nBefore Nick could say something, I spoke, \"We heard there were a Dragon in the area, there be any truth to that?\"\n\nOf course there was truth to it. I had taken to the skies myself and terrified the town, taking sheep, burning down unoccupied houses, crops and the like. Sadly none of them had recognized who I was; I hoped I would be able to put on a show during the day. \n\n\"I wasn't talking to ye, woman,\" the man growled, and turned towards Nick. \n\nNick went, very very still, and my eyes went flat. I looked at him, and he mouthed, \"Please,\" to me, his eyes wide. \n\nTo hell with that. How dare this buffoon insult a dragon. I would burn this entire village down, damn the scam. We could pick the gold off their charred corps-\n\n\"N-n-nay, sire,\" Nick said, \"I am merely the servant of Lady Rose, please address her, and not me.\"\n\nLady Rose, heh. I would never let him live that one down. Fine. This man could live. The man turned to look at me again, still wearing that scowl on his face. \"There may have been a dragon in the area, aye, but t'aint somethin' that would interest you, woman.\"\n\nI rolled my eyes and held out my had and a fireball appeared in it. A Dragon controlled her element no matter what form she was in. I tossed it up into the air, opened my mouth and ate it. \n\n\"Show off,\" Nick muttered next to me. \n\nI ignored him. \"We, peasant, are Dragon hunters, so watch your damn tongue,\" I said glaring openly at him. I went for a bit of flair and let the edges of my hair on fire. \"Now is there a Dragon in the area or not.\"\n\nThe scowl was gone, replaced by wide eyes and open mouth. Fear, my favorite emotion. \"Y-yes, lady, th-there is,\" he stammered. \"Please come to me' h-humble village, I'll have t-the mayor prepare.\" With that he turned and practically galloped away. \n\nI looked at Nick, and smirked, \"You see.\"\n\nNick looked like he was choking, and I frowned, \"are you alright?\" I asked.\n\nFinally Nick burst out laughing. \"Your hair, your hair's still on fire!\" he managed to say between gasps of laughter. \n\nI realized that the little flame that was supposed to accentuate my red hair had burnt half of it. I ground my teeth and extinguished the fire. It would look strange to have full hair, so I just evened out the edges of my now short hair. It only fell to my neck now. \"Look, can we go,\" I said, my cheeks burning.\n\n\"Of course, Lady Rose, master pyromaniac\" he said with a mock bow, \"lead the way.\"\n\n\"Whatever,\" I said, turning away so he wouldn't see me blush, and we headed to the village. \n***\n(minor edits)\n\nIf you enjoyed, check out [XcessiveWriting](https://www.reddit.com/r/XcessiveWriting/) for more of my work"
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[WP] woke up in a room with no memory, stepped out into a desert/forest, there was a girl there. she introduced herself as Eve, and said that your name is Adam.
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"It was only when I stepped out of the concrete room and felt the cold grass on my feet that I realised that I was naked. I tried to take in as much as my surroundings as I could, but my mind was all over the place - yet stuck motionless at the same time. I could feel the thoughts crashing around my head, and yet I was overwhelmed by them. I closed my eyes and willed my mind quiet, reaching out for any clear line of thinking that I could grasp. \n\nWho am I?\n\nIt's not normal to not know the answer is it? I couldn't put my finger on it. My name, my family, nothing was coming to me. I looked down at my naked body once more in a search for clues - reasonably fit, reasonably muscular, a good size in all the right areas, I guess that's a start. But why would I be naked? Perhaps I had angered someone? But why and who? \n\nAnd just where was I? I started to slowly walk, carefully avoiding anything too sharp on the ground. The trees did a good job of hiding much of the sky from me, but the sunlight pierced the canopies and gave the forest I was walking through a somewhat otherworldly feel. Despite not knowing who I am or where I am, there was a peacefulness about this place. The soft hum of nature filled my ear drums in a way that eased me deeper and deeper into the forest.\n\nI must have walked for hours, aimlessly following my feet. A lack of knowing is surprising relaxing. I didn't know who I was missing, or whether I had anyone to miss. Maybe this is what I do every day? A sense of home did fill me, but I knew nothing else. Any time before my waking was a complete mystery. If it were something that would never come back to me, did it happen at all?\n\nMy thought process was interrupted by a noise. A noise that I hadn't ever heard before. It broke the natural whir of forest and it echoed in my ear and I was drawn to it. I eagerly made my way in the direction of the noise to investigate. Maybe I'll find answers.\n\nMy walk turned into a fast walk, and then into a jog as I began to recognise the noise as a *cry*. It was a cry of fear or pain, but rather a cry of sadness. I ran through the forest, trying my utmost to avoid too many scratches of branches and leaves on my bare body, when I came into a clearing. I stopped at the edge, carefully and purposely avoiding out into the open when I laid eyes on her.\n\nShe sad perched up against a tree in the opening, her head in her hands, sobbing. The sun filled the air and the blossom fell from overhead, but through it all I focused on her. Beauty emanated from her and her skin glowed... I was drawn into the opening, eyes fixed on this woman in front of me. I stood on a twig and the noise caused her to abruptly look up in shock. Her eyes were like shining sapphires. The tears from her eyes glistened on her face, and my eyes fell on her body. I couldn't help but look. Her naked body lay nestled perfectly on the grass and for a moment I wished that I were the grass and nature that caressed her soft skin... And then she screamed and I realised I was naked too.\n\nI snapped out of my trance and frantically aimed to cover myself up, rather awkwardly with my hands. She did like wise and then we were both frozen in a stand off.\n\nHer sitting perched covering his breasts and legs twisted to the side, me standing with my hands covering myself, both of us breathing heavily at our predicament. A sense of dread filled me. After the feeling of relaxing and contentment at being ignorant to my situation, a crying, naked woman has shattered my illusion and highlighted just how odd the situation is that I found myself.\n\n\"Hi,\" I found myself saying, somewhat surprising myself.\n\nShe just looked at me nervously, apparently sizing up whether I was a risk I guess.\n\n\"Okay so, I woke up naked and...\"\n\nStill no reply as she judged me some more.\n\n\"I'm Adam,\" *Adam*? What made me say that? \n\n\"Eve,\" she replied softly, \"My name is Eve.\"\n\n\"Hi Eve, that's a nice name,\" \n\nShe smiled, and spoke again, \"I'm sorry, I don't know what's going on. I woke up and I have no idea where I am, who I am, who put me here or anything... when I saw you I thought you might have been one of them.\"\n\nOdd.\n\n\"It's okay, I'd be the same. Well, am the same.\" I looked to the space on the grass beside her and she recognised the gesture and mouthed *sure*, so I hobbled over to take a seat next to her, carefully avoiding flashing her anymore than I already had. \n\n\"So,\" I began, \"how long have you been awake?\"\n\n\"Not long, a few hours I guess.\"\n\n\"Did you wake up in a room too?\"\n\n\"A room?\" she replied with a puzzled look on her face.\n\n\"Yeah you know, four walls, a roof-\"\n\n\"I know what a room is.\" she spat back.\n\n\"Oh - sorry\" I said sympathetically, \"Not sure how this lack of memory thing works...\"\n\n\"But no. I woke up here in this clearing and well I haven't left.\"\n\n\"Hmm... odd.\"\n\nWe sat in silence for what must have been ten minutes. After all, what do you speak about when neither person can remember a thing? \n\n\"Say, what's that?\" she asked pointing over at something up above us. She stood up, either forgetting about being completely naked or simply not caring. \n\nI begrudgingly took my eyes away from her, and looked up at where she was looking, before I too stood up to take a better look.\n\n\"Is that... a camera?\"\n\n________________________________\n\n*If you liked this please feel free to check out r/ByDLB where I post most of my stories! Thank you!*\n\n"
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Prompt inspired by me watching a clock in the back of an ambulance and realizing that's the clock they must use to call time of death, but I feel like it could make an interesting fantasy/sci-fi prompt? I'm excited to see what y'all do with it
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[WP] The clock that counted death
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"Even though it makes no sound, I can hear its ticking everywhere I go, or rather I can feel it. The watch, embedded in my skin at the age of 9, is a constant reminder of what little time we all have. \n\nIf I'm lucky, it stays at the 6 o'clock position. This signifies sustainability, people being born at the same rate as others die. A long time ago, I saw the hand briefly touch the 7, but I'm starting to think that was the daydream of a child. \n\nThese days...I can feel the hand constantly moving as sickness rips across the world, storms toss boats onto reefs, the temperature bakes those living near the equator. \n\nThe human race is dying. Our watches are our constant, silent reminder. 'Be careful,' it whispers. 'Go about your business, but you're still going to die.'\n\nWhen I was 12, I tried ripping the watch out of my arm. A bomb had been detonated and an entire country had died, causing the dial on my wrist to spin wildly and then descend to the 4. I'd run crying to my mother. \"I want it off,\" I sobbed, \"I don't want to die.\"\n\nShe just looked at me, a mother with nothing to say. Parents can't lie about death when there's a gauge embedded in your skin, reminding you how disposable you are, how fleeting life is in a poisoned world. So she just sighed and went back to counting rations, and I screamed in rage at the seeming uselessness of my mother.\n\nSince then, I cover the watch each morning with a bandage, hide the face that tells me how close we are to extinction. But I can still feel it. \n\nIt's hard to feel alive with the ticking of death in your soul.\n\nEdit: quick wording tweak!\n\n\nr/DieKarrotte"
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[WP] Its your first day delivering pizzas. Your first route takes you to a rumored haunted house. As you press the door bell, the door opens with no one there. The rumors are true and you decide to go in to investigate.
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"Pathetic! - I yelled while trying to avoid the huge cracks on the road. The wind was blowing towards me so hard, I could feel the motor making an extra effort to keep going uphill – Must be some teen punks making calls to delivery places trying to be “cool” while telling their weekend “super-prank” story on Monday at school.\n\nI watched at my chronometer, 27:23 – at least I’ll make those punks pay for it, can’t believe Donna fall for it taking that call, that girl should get fired and send back to her small town, such a dum…- I did a quick stir at the handlebar trying to avoid the oddly placed barbed wire standing on the road. The mist was getting heavier, diminishing my vision to just one meter forward. I slowed down. – Those punks! I could have died right there! Perhaps this is just an “initiation” from the pizzeria, what a twisted organizational culture. \n\nI was sent to an abandoned facility that used to be a clinic for the mutilated and burned war pilots during WWII. It was closed, bought by an iconic real estate agent, and abandoned as an un-started project. Rumor has it that the real estate agent was killed by mystic beings that appear after midnight. \n\nAnd there I was, pressing the doorbell of an abandoned war clinic known to be haunted (by everyone, except Donkey-face-Donna). I knocked really hard at the wide gates when one of them opened in a creepy fashion. I stepped inside and found myself in a smoky room – Did someone say pizza! – I said as part of the pizzeria’s bitter protocol.\n\nMe – A deep voiced said while the door closed by itself.\n\n-Right, can’t see a thing, it’s a bomb of a prank, and it’s going to be 12 bucks anyway.\n\nThe lights went on but I couldn’t see the other speaker - Free pizza you promised.\n \n-Yeah, if I’d deliver it 30minutes late and unfortunately for you – I checked at my chronometer but it was still running since I forgot to stop it. I nervously miss clicked the button and the display went back to watch, it was midnight. Lights went off.\n\nHA HA HA – the deep voice laughed – So it’s free? – He asked in a strangely sweet manner.\n\n-I don’t want to sound rude, but that creepy barbed wire of yours almost got me killed, that’s the reason why I got late.\n\n-We’re all dead here, join us – The lights went back on showing a dozen of dead soldiers on their full war uniform standing at the exit. \n\nI threw the pizza as a distraction and ran to the next room; a smell of wine and cheap perfume attacked me as I came in. I hid in a drug inventory and remained as quiet as possible. \n\n– Block the exit and check the other rooms, I will look for him here! – The first deep voiced ordered.\n\nAs I heard him get closer to the drug inventory, I shoved him with the door and pickpocketed his wallet (I got this nimble skill on Detroit, my hometown) – I told you it was 12 bucks sir- I ran following the exit signs and outrunned a dead armless soldier (I wonder what he was thinking to do if he had got close enough).\n \nI picked up my motorcycle and drove as fast as possible back to the pizzeria.\n\nOver the sound of the motor and my heavy respiration I could hear the deep voice yelling – I SAID **NO PINNEAPLE**, YOU MONSTERS!\n",
"\"Hey is this some type of stupid joke or what? Seriously, if you don't pay up, we're going to put you on the do not deliver list.\"\n\n\"Hang on, hang on! Don't get your panties in a bunch, geeze.\"\n\nJust then a ghost appeared. He was a young man, not all that much older than me, but it was obvious he came from a different time. He looked like he hoped right out of some old school beatnik movie. \n\n\"Holy fuck,\" I said, \"you're real.\"\n\n\"Well yeah. I mean, if I wasn't real, don't you think I'd already be on the do not call list?\"\n\n\"Oh yeah..... So ummm, can you pay?\"\n\nThe ghost sighed, \"of course I can. I'm a ghost, not a thief. Check in that drawer there, you'll find some money. But only take what you need or I swear to God I will haunt the shit out of you!\"\n\n\"Yeah yeah, I'm a pizza delivery driver, not a thief. Geeze. So how do you get all this money?\"\n\n\"Seances. People come by, ask me to communicate with the other side. Fifty bucks and I'll put you in touch with anyone you want, assuming they are dead, of course.\"\n\n\"So how do you eat pizza?\"\n\n\"What? I can't, I'm a ghost. No, no, you have to eat it for me and describe it to me.\" \n\nI sigh, \"I fucking hate anchovies.\" \n\n\"Suck it up sonny, I tip well.\" "
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[WP] You're a big fan of fantasy movies. Unfortunately, your friend, a wizard, won't stop nitpicking them.
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"“Seriously?” I demanded.\n\nIf I’d expected shame, Aethelstan disappointed me. “Absolutely,” he said stubbornly. “The best we’ve seen.”\n\n“Staaaan,” I moaned. “You laughed at *Lord of the Rings*.”\n\n“Yes,” he confirmed. “Because the magic was laughable.”\n\n“You heckled your way through *Harry Potter.*”\n\n“All eight movies,” he agreed amiably.\n\n“You never shut up during *The Neverending Story*.”\n\n“Nope.”\n\n“You—you mocked *Monty Python and the Holy Grail*!”\n\nStan grinned. “You *are* doing the alliteration on purpose! I thought so.”\n\n“Not the point,” I growled. “The *point* is that I’ve spent the last two years showing you the best fantasy movies out there, and every time you’ve found some major flaw. It’s never good enough for you. And now—”\n\n“Hey,” Stan protested. “I’m entitled to my opinion. Do you see me threatening to turn you into a frog every time you disagree with me?”\n\n“No, because I like frogs. You’d turn me into a cockroach or something.” I sighed. “I just…I don’t know, I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”\n\nStan took my shoulders and looked me in the eye. To his credit, he tried to look serious. “Moira. I realize this hurts you deeply on some weirdly personal level, but it’s not the end of the world. I’m still me. I’m just telling you that *Eragon* is the best, most accurate depiction of magic I’ve seen to date in mundane media.”\n\nI winced. Really, it was my fault for even putting it on our list. More than Stan’s dubious taste in movies, his claim of accuracy bothered me. Could reality really be that…cliched? That hackneyed? The kind of thing a teenager could design in conjunction with a predictable storyline and a sickeningly sweet romantic subplot?\n\n“I…Stan, my whole idea of the universe has just been shaken. I need time to digest this.” I raised a hand against his interruption. “I don’t doubt you, I’m just grieving for my idealistic notions of magic.”\n\n“There is a K, if that makes you feel better,” Stan volunteered, dropped his hands from my shoulders and returning to the couch. When I looked puzzled, he clarified, “Magick.” \n\nI nodded, hearing the extra letter this time. “Well, that’s something, I guess.” \n\nWe were both quiet for a moment while Stan cleaned up our popcorn bowls, removing the butter and leftover kernels with a flick of his wrist from his seat in the living room.\n\n“I liked *The Princess Bride* too,” he finally offered in a conciliatory tone. “So our tastes aren’t so different.”\n\n“That doesn’t count,” I said dismissively. “That just means you have a soul.”",
"'Oh, no, not Harry Potter, come on, I told you that thing was garbage.'\n\nI glared at Magus. 'You said it was my choice, Mag. And I choose Harry Potter.'\n\n'But Lu! The spells aren't even *close* to right! I mean, \"wingardium leviosa\", come *on*, it's *aviensis* leviosa --' The DVD I was holding in my hand lifted up into the air. \n\n'Will you stop that? And come on, Mag, it's fiction. They're allowed to be unreal.'\n\nHe made a gesture and the DVD landed in my hand again. 'But what if some kid gets the wrong idea? I mean, dragons, for example. Everyone pictures them as these huge menacing fire breathing monsters. *You* know Mr. Scaly wouldn't harm a fly, but what if someone on the street sees me and flips out?' He stroked the long snakelike dragon in his lap and Mr Scaly gave a contented purr.\n\n'There aren't any dragons in this one. It's their first year at Hogwarts.'\n\n'And that's another thing! I didn't get into some fancy pants boarding school like all those dumb rich wizards. I *worked* for my degree at Zebustibar's! Four years of magical training, and these kids make it look like some sort of brilliant summer camp! If I'd had a course like that...'\n\n'Come on, it's cool to see the cool world -- fancy robes and broomsticks and all that.'\n\n'Pfft. Those robes wouldn't last a week in a *real* magical workshop. Try wearing something practical for once!' He points to his well-worn and very stained jeans. 'These are what they should be wearing, honestly. And as for the broomsticks --'\n\nI couldn't take that. 'But flying is fun!'\n\n'That's what those movies tell you. Try doing it at dead of night in a hailstorm for nine hours. At least with carpets you have somewhere comfortable to sit.'\n\n'Don't you at least like the story? Underpriveledged boy discovers great talent and defeats evil?'\n\n'Fuck no! Come on, Luann, have I ever introduced you to a fellow wizard or witch that was even remotely evil?'\n\n'You're looking pretty evil to me right now,' I muttered, sulkily.\n\n'We have tests for that kind of thing. *Peer* reviews. Bloody red tape as far as the eye can see. *Proper* registration. *None* of us is about to go and conquer the world.'\n\nI huffed. 'The story though. Underdog, and all that.'\n\n'Come on, Lu. When is some under aged kid ever going to beat a fully trained and competent adult like me? I mean, I actually *work* for my magic talent. Harry fucking Potter just gets all the *luck*.'\n\n'Honestly,' I said, throwing the DVD on the floor, 'you ruin every movie night, Mag.'"
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[WP] You love spending time at your auntie's house, but you must never open the red door.
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"My auntie was a sweetheart, a real sweetheart, y'know? Just the best. I love her. God bless her. Absolute sweetheart. \n\nBut she was tremendously old, tremendously... I remember she took me outside one time and pointed to this huge tree - it was absolutely huge, gigantic, the biggest tree on the block by far, just a tremendous, tremendous tree - and she points to this tree and says, \"Let me tell you. You don't know this. But I was born before this tree. I'm older than this tree.\" \n\nTrue story. I've got pictures, other people confirmed it..It was just incredible, absolutely amazing.\n\nBut as I got older, I started noticing that she wasn't all the way there mentally, like she might be a little...I dont want to say crazy, but I'm going to say crazy for now because I cant think of another word to use. But, yeah. She was crazy. I don't like using that word, but she was. \n\nAnd nobody wanted to say it, they didn't want to talk about it. I never understood that. You go up to one of the adults and whisper, \"Hey, is Auntie..?\" And they don't want you to say it, they don't walk to talk about it. \"Be quiet.\" Just like that. I never understood that.\n\nSo one summer I'm staying at her house and I see this red door in her house that I've never seen before; and my aunt tells me not to go through the door, so naturally I want to go through the door - what kid wouldn't?\n\nAnd as soon as she's out of sight, I run to the door and I open the door and I smell this ridiculously horrible smell coming from inside, just horrible. And it's dark, and it's stinky, and it's nasty. \n\nI turn around to go find a flashlight, and my auntie is standing right there, and boy does she look pissed!\n\nAnd she says, \"I thought I told you not to open the door.\"\n\nAnd I say...because she's crazy, remember? So I'm thinking she won't remember telling me not to open door, and I go, \"No, you didn't tell me.\"\n\nThen she gives me this really creepy smile and says, \"Oh well then that's too bad because now you have to die.\"\n\nAnd she pushes me and I fall backward into the darkness, while she slams the door shut.\n",
"Auntie Mae's house was wonderful. Her ranch was deep in the neck of the woods and surrounded by lush greenery. Visiting her was always a beautiful escape from the concrete jungle.\n\nWhen my parents dropped me off for the weekend, Auntie Mae explained the house rules as she always did. I knew them, of course, but there wasn't a need to be rude. I checked them off in my head as she went down the list. \n\nStay in bed after dark. Check.\nNo wandering into the forest. Check.\nNever. Never open the red door. Check.\n\nI always followed the first two rules as they were self-explanatory. I cherished my sleep so staying in bed was never a problem. I have wanted to go into the forest and sometimes, I went a few yards in. If I went any farther, I would get afraid I would get lost, so I chickened out every year. \n\nRule number three was different. Never open the red door. I always remembered this rule over the rest because of the peculiarity of it. There wasn't a red door in the house. Believe me, I checked every time. \n\nI even checked this morning when I arrived. But it was the same result. No red door. My parents didn't know what crazy Auntie Mae was talking about either. But this only furthered my curiosity.\n\nI gave up on it rather quickly and spent the remainder of the day drawing pictures of the scenery out on her front porch. She invited me in for supper where she served me some chicken pot pie and corn. It wasn't the best tasting food but I got through it. I then excused myself up into the guest bedroom and used the rest of my night to get some reading done.\n\nAt about 11, right before I was about to sleep, a light illuminated my window. At first I thought maybe it was a strike of lightning, but there was no rain or thunder, and the light lingered. When I looked out, I could see a small glow coming from deep into the forest. It was nothing like I've ever seen before. \n\nI knew better than to go out but damn it, my curiosity always gets the best of me. So, I snuck out of my room, went across the rickety floorboard, and out the front door. Auntie Mae couldn't of heard me, I was as silent as a mouse. \n\nI walked into the grassy plain that lies just before the forest. I stepped softly as to not step on any hidden stones or branches that would hurt my bare feet. The light was still glowing, maybe 100 yards out. \n\nI took a deep breath. And then another.\n\nI entered into the woods, maneuvering past bushes, trees, logs, and the like, getting closer and closer. I didn't have a plan to go back other than to turn directly around and pray that was the direction Auntie Mae's house was. \n\nThe closer I got, the more the light radiated. The trees and ground became more visible. \n\nAn open area was before me. A mound of grass that was taller than me, almost like a Hobbit-hole, remained in the center. A single crimson-red door, fit perfectly in the the earth. An immense amount of light was escaping from the hinges, and wooden spaces of the door. \n\nI approached it with caution. My eyes darted around me. Someone was watching me, I could feel it. \n\nMy fingers smoothed over the metal handle before I grasped it. I was ready. There was no going back.\n\nI opened the door.\n\nThere was nothing but darkness inside. All the light was gone in an instant. I stood there with the door still wide open. \n\nA cold hand clenched my right shoulder. It was Auntie Mae's. I could tell by the silver ring on her hand. \n\n\"What --\" I started to say.\n\n\"Oh Claire,\" she said. \"I always had high hopes for you and you came through to the end. Splendid job. Splendid.\"\n\nI was so confused. I wanted to ask questions but my mind was moving so fast that my mouth couldn't keep up. \n\n\"Do you have any idea what you did for me Claire?\"\n\nI gazed at her. She wasn't looking at me. Instead, her attention was drawn towards the darkness. I shook my head.\n\n\"That light that you just opened up? Those were souls. Men, women, and children of all ages.\" Her grip tightened, causing pain to shoot up my right shoulder. \"I'm a collector and this is my vessel. Now the tricky thing for any collector is that we are not allowed to release the souls we collect.\"\n\nI tried to break free and run but her grip tightened even more. I screamed in agony as my bones cracked under her strength. I collapsed onto the ground, holding my shoulder with my other hand. \n\n\"So we need to find a way to open our vessel in order to receive the benefits of those souls. It's tricky, but luckily enough I knew I could count on you.\" \n\nShe stepped into the doorway. Her skin began to smoothen over the wrinkles. Her youth began flowing back into her. Within an instant, Auntie Mae became a beautiful young girl that couldn't have been older than me. \n\n\"Once you open a collector's door Claire, you're given two options just as your mother and father were given.\"\n\nThis was too unreal. Too crazy to be true. This defied everything I believed in.\n\n\"You can either train to be a Collector like your family. You will steal the souls of others to keep your own immortality and youth.\"\n\nI could barely get the words out but I managed to say, \"And the other?\"\n\n\"If you do not wish to feed off of others then you will be consumed. Like your brothers and sisters before you.\"\n\n----------------------------------------------------\n\nHoly shit, this was a lot longer than I expected but it was a lot of fun writing that! Can't believe I got all that down during my lunch break. Hope you all enjoyed it! I always enjoy reading feedback, whether positive or negative.",
"Carol held the cap up in her hands. It looked like the kind of hat that pilots wore a long time ago with a pair of goggles that seemed like they were permanently attached to it. It also had a fine leathery feel and was very light. Maybe just a little loose on her head when she tried it on. The lens on the goggles were dusty and fogged from age and she could barely make out the light that shined through the red door of the room. \n\nShe kept the cap on her head and continued to explore more of the dimly lit room. On one end was a trophy case filled with memorabilia and awards. Inside, sat a framed picture. Upon closer inspection she could see a crowd gathered around two people in front of city hall. She knew the place from learning about in class, but it looked older somehow.\n\nOne of the two people wore a suit and tie, and the other person was a young woman. She was in a brown leather jacket, gloves, with a scarf around her neck. Carol recognized the cap on her head as the one she had on. The woman was smiling and shaking the hand of the man in the suit as he handed her something shiny. A very large plaque on which it read: \"The Aviator\".\n\nThere were a lot of other things that looked just like the woman in the picture in the room. In the corner was a mannequin with the same attire, small statues and figures as well as a large poster featuring her as one of several other people in cool costumes. They were all standing side by side standing in heroic poses.\n\n\"Carol!\" The sudden voice came from the doorway and made her jump. It was her Aunt Carolyn quickly making her way towards her.\n\n\"What did I tell you about opening this door?\" She said, her voice sounding more worried than angry.\n\n\"Is that you Aunt Carolyn?\" Her grand niece asked, pointing to the trophy case. \"Were you a pilot?\"\n\nCarolyn looked to the trophy case and to Carol who stood with an over sized pilot's cap on her head. It was almost as if...\n\nNo. Her parents had been strict with their demands. Take care of her while they were away and she was not to be exposed to any of this. They'd even named Carol after her. \n\nBut in the last year, she'd shown the signs. When Carol ran around the farm, she practically glided across that grass. And when she fell, she did it so slowly that a scrape never came from it. And the child had no idea. What kind of Auntie would she be if there was no one to tell her why it was just her visiting and not all her other siblings.\n\n\"I'm sorry Aunt Carolyn. I was just really really curious. I won't do it again.\" Carol said solemnly with a tinge of sadness.\n\nCarolyn sighed. \n\n\"I wasn't a pilot.\" She said shooing the girl away from the trophy case and towards one of the two chairs that sat in the room. Her face lit up realizing a story, and quickly jumped into one of them and waited.\n\nCarolyn opened the trophy case and took the picture out and wiped some dust off of the frame. She had been so much younger then, no grey in that blonde hair, wrinkles on that skin. It had been so long since she'd come into this room. Picture in hand she sat herself down onto the other chair next to Carol. A small plume of dust escaping from the cushions. \n\n\"You see.\" She began, looking at Carol who was beaming. \"I didn't need a plane to fly.\""
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[WP] You are Krongor the Conqueror. You're not very good at your job, but your pretty lucky. These are your tales.
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"Krongor thumped the arm of his Deck Chair, it's what he insisted he called it seeing it was on the ship's deck and a chair, \"Commander transition into real space! We must start the invasion as soon as possible!\". Warning klaxons started wailing as the navigator, not the commander, dropped the Flag Ship from warp speed to sub-light speed, not in fact transitioning into real space. \n\nThe vessel Krongor's Finger, because it poked the chest in challenge of all they met, appeared in high orbit of the chosen world of conquest. Sensor satellites were spat out into a wide net sucking in as much intelligence as possible, which as usual would be ignored by the glorious Chief Blood Splatterer and Fingerer Krongor the Conquerer. \"My lord! This planet has orbital defences but they appear offline.\" cried out a monitor monitor, another of Krongor's naming ideas, before he fled down the corridor as the inevitable beer bottle was thrown at him. \"Dammit commander take us to cover behind that thing over there!\" a half full beer bottle was thrown as the bridge monitor, bursting roughly in the direction of a local moon \"full speed man! before we're shot to pieces\". The navigator caught the beer bottle with a free hand and urged the ship forward at a safe speed, the sheer bulk of the Finger had a stopping distance measured in light seconds \"Faster than that, boost speed!\" another bottle was flung, caught and desposited in a bin. Sighing deeply the navigator hit the boost, for less than a second the Finger moved faster than light and stopped 100 miles from collision with the moon and no chance of slowing down. \n\nThe bridge crew without much fuss strapped into their chairs with six point harasses, put in mouth guards and clipped on foam helmet then braced for impacted. The klaxons screamed again while Krongor went beserk crying for shields and reverse thrusters. Finger's shields were pushed to the nose and all systems de-powered to give the shields the strength to prevent catastrophic explosion. \n\nThe immense craft punched into the moon like a beer bottle through a meringue, shattering the heavenly body. Planetary defence batteries opened fire trying desperately to break up the pieces of moon that started drifted into a decaying orbit.\n\nGlyazix III was more than a match for the Fingering Armada, immense economy and technology that could out shoot even the largest fleet with a culture of endurance. Fortunately for Krongor his ship survived exploding a moon and the moon crushed all survivors leaving a full planet of booty to plunder.\n\nAnother glorious victory for Krongor accidental conqueror "
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Imagine a game of red light green light but the other guy has a gattling gun.
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[WP] After a shooting you find out you're bulletproof, but only when you're not moving. The downside is the only weapon that works for you are katanas.
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"Columbine was the start. As the only survivor, I was grilled and questioned. Only when my “handler” broke his hand on my face did we realize something was up.\n\nSubjected to a battery of tests, time ceased to hold any meaning.\nPoked and prodded for years, SCARM (some sort of alphabet soup, clandestine, government agency) discovered the following.\n\nI am immune to all damage, but only when not moving.\nDon’t get me wrong, I can still breathe and blink but any voluntary movement makes me mortal.\n\nAs one of the empowered, I fight crime at Mach 2 as\n\n“Hey cannonball – suit up and let’s go!!”\n\n"
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[WP] A finger taps you on the shoulder while you fitfully sleep. You open your eyes and see the Sandman, who hands you a shovel. "Child, we need to go digging for some magical sand."
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"Becca harbours a gift I am jealous of. However worried, anxious, stressed out she is, she can effortlessly fell asleep like a brick in a lake. Even after Sarah’s accident, when we were waiting for the doctors to come back, she dozed off and slept in the waiting room. I resented her so much that day! For a moment my distress and my helplessness agglomerated into one solid spear of hate and I would have kill her on the spot if not for the nurse entering the room with the news that my daughter would never wake up.\nNo one could have prevent the accident because no one never understood what has happened to our little girl. One day, during recess, she fall unconscious on the ground and sunk into a deep coma. She stayed at the hospital the first two months. When her state stabilized, we took her home, on a light life support. I collapsed. Quitted my job. To be fair, Becca carried the three of us alone through this ordeal, never complaining, never asking for a rest except at night, when she banned the whole world outside of her eyelids. I think she longs for this blessed oblivion, the only place left where she wasn’t a caretaker.\n\nIt has been three months since Sarah’s slept in her room. Her faint breathing was covered by the purring machine that kept her alive. I spent the first nights by her side, monitoring her movements, rehearsing in my head all the words that I wanted to tell her. My arms missed her, missed her weight, missed her warmth. My ears missed her voice, hell, my whole body seemed riddled with missing parts inhaling darkness into my soul.\n\nWe didn’t exactly have a fight but it felt like it. Becca just glanced at me with discouragment and went to bed. I prefered to sleep in Sarah’s room. I told her a story, discussed this morning’s cartoons then after three or four whiskies, I slumbered away. I don’t remember for how long I was gone but I felt a finger tapping my shoulder and opened my eyes.\n\n\"Hey, man wake up! Wake up, you clam!\"\n\nFor a second I thought Becca decided to join me but the voice belonged to a man, a hasty, nervous man who turned out to stare down (or rather up) at me, from the ceiling. He looked young, in a tailored suit that spelled « salesman ». His blond eyes stared right in mine. They lacked pupils but they were so close that I could see lines in them, like ancient ruins peaking through the desert.\n\n\" Finally! You’re not the fast type, are you? I could lose my job, you know! Not that you care obviously...\"\n\n\" Who are you? What are you doing on my ceiling? \" That was a stupid question, but that was a stupid situation too. He looked up at his bare feet and blinked in bewilderment.\n\n\" Oh, yeah, he said slowly, gravity n’ stuff... \"\n\nI tried to stand but I was stuck from the neck down into grey sand. Panic seized me and I tried to crawl toward Sarah’s bed. The bedroom was packed with sand and I couldn’t see my daughter but I could clearly hear her steady breathing, as loud as the wind. No machine noises between my daughter’s life and me. It calmed me. The strange man sat next to me as I managed to escape from the sand’s grip.\n\n\" Let’s talk business, shall we? I know you’re in a... uneasy situation, Dave. See, your daughter was caught in an unfortunate accident. I... I mean, someone on our side has been a little heavy-handed on the sleeping sand... As you can see for yourself... It got caught in her soul and before you know it, buried her into this coma. ‘Wasn’t supposed to happen, but who never screws up, hey?\"\n\nMy hand clamped his throat, frozing the smile that started to arise on his face.\n\n\" You’re responsible for this?! You hurt my little girl, you fucking asshole!\"\n\nHe tried to speak, gasped for air but I couldn’t let go, not yet. I needed this, I needed for him to reach his last but one air, to desperately expect death before I permit him to live another minute. I finally loosened my grip and he crawled away from me, spitting and cursing.\n\n\" The fuck Dave?! I’m... ack! I’m trying to help here, moron! I could have... I could have let it slide, pretend nothing happened and just go on with my life! But nooooo! I’m too kindhearted, too much of a good sport! If it wasn’t for your wife I...\n\n\" What about my wife?\" I snapped and he transited from outrage to embarassment for a second before opting for a greasy « matter-of-fact » mode.\n\n\" Well, she’s one of our best customer; I reckon she deserves a commercial gesture, is all! A sound sleeper she is, « you can count on Sarah to buy more than her fair share! » I always say to my blokes, « She is a girl you can trust to whisk away heavy loads of sand every night! » Look, our litigation department wants nothing to do with your case, but for Sarah’s sake, I couldn’t let it go. We are unable to retrieve our product ourselves. Not our job, you see, we can only sell it. Only humans are fit for \"returning to sender\" this shit. And here, my jobless friend, is where you come in the picture... \"\n\nAs he was talking, I more or less have classified this encounter as a whacky waking dream. It didn’t make any sense. Nevertheless, even if it occured solely in my mind or because of the booze, I deserved this way out of my helplessness. The salesman grinned and held out a showel, a bag and a uniform.\n\n\" Well Dave, ready to be your daughter’s hero? Welcome to Sandman Inc.!\"",
"“I need to sleep.”\n\nThe eyes glowing at me from within the swirling shrouds brightened slightly. “Yet you do not.”\n\n“What do you want?”\n\n“To help you,” he said, sounding amused. A hand extended out of the personified darkness, beckoning me. “Come.”\n\nI studied him for a moment. There wasn’t much to see, except that despite the near dark in my bedroom, he was a shape made *of* the night. A man of some kind, with a voice that echoed like dream theater. Despite the lack of detail, as my eyes failed to see past the shadows that comprised him, he struck me as confident and honest.\n\n“Good,” he said as I threw back the covers and got out of bed. The moment I took his hand, the bedroom faded, and we were abruptly somewhere else. Looking around, I saw an office forming. One of the cubical farms I knew so well. That I despised. People were moving through the aisles between the ‘sound dampening’ half walls that formed the little pens workers were trapped in while they labored. Others bent over desks, tapping at keyboards and studying monitors.\n\n“Where are we?” I asked.\n\n“What do you see?”\n\n“Work.”\n\n“Look again.”\n\nI did, but the scene was the same. “It’s an office.”\n\n“It’s a trap,” he said, gesturing. “Your eyes are not open. Pay attention, see past the obvious.”\n\n“You’re not making a lot of sense.”\n\n“Here,” he said, pulling on my hand. I was drawn down one of the aisles, to one of the corner cubes. With the divider wall between two of the end cubicles removed to make for a larger little cube office, it was clearly a supervisor’s station. I looked at the woman in the chair. She glanced up as a coworker came into her cube with a question. There was no sound; but I could read their expressions.\n\n“What do you see?”\n\n“It’s still an office,” I said again, letting my annoyance color my tone.\n\nBut I was still looking at the silent conversation before me. The woman, the supervisor, seemed tired as she listened to whatever the visitor’s question was. She shook her head finally, then pressed her lips together firmly when the employee objected and made some further point. Another shake of her head, and she gestured toward a color coded calendar on the half wall of her cube. Reaching out, she tapped a finger on a square, with “Ship Date” penciled in.\n\nThe employee sighed visibly, and she gave him a shrug. They talked for another moment, and his lips finally frowned very slightly. Then he nodded, and turned to leave. His face was furious, twisted with anger the moment his back was to her. She swiveled her chair to her computer again, and her shoulders slumped as she resumed working.\n\n“Why are they here?” the darkness asked me.\n\n“I don’t know. They’ve probably got bills to pay.”\n\n“Finally, a good answer. Only half of one, but a start.”\n\nI frowned at him. The shroud seemed to be studying me, the eyes glowing steadily back at me. “We’ve all got to do things we don’t like.”\n\n“But at what cost?”\n\n“Rent and food, everything, it costs money.”\n\n“It costs, but far more than money,” he said, his tones swelling out across the office. I glanced around instinctively, but no one seemed to be paying the slightest attention to us. Whatever was going on, we weren’t here. Not enough for them to notice anyway.\n\n“Money makes the world go around.”\n\n“People are what matter. People, and their lives. Which they sacrifice, over and over, until nothing remains. Only loss and failure.”\n\n“It’s far too late for this conversation.”\n\n“No,” he said, shaking his head. Or, at least, the silhouette of his head within the swirls of absolute blackness. “Nearly, but not yet. There is time.”\n\n“I mean I’m tired. I have work in the morning.”\n\n“Why?”\n\n“Because I’ve got bills too.”\n\n“And paying bills makes you happy?”\n\n“They’ve got to be paid.”\n\n“And you were so close,” he said, shaking his head again. “Very well. If you insist, I will take you home.”\n\nHe reached for me, but I drew back before he could touch my hand. “Wait.”\n\n“Yes?” His voice had fallen to a whisper. It carried clearly though. And there was such pain that I was finally listening.\n\n“What are you trying to tell me?”\n\n“Are you happy?”\n\n“I suppose.”\n\n“Less than half an answer.”\n\n“Is anyone really happy?”\n\n“Some precious few.”\n\n“Lucky them,” I said sourly.\n\n“A very small handful of them are just lucky. But most of them have chosen to be thus.”\n\n“You’re talking circles again,” I said, frowning. “If happiness was so easy—”\n\n“But it is.”\n\n“How?” I asked before I could stop myself.\n\n“Do you hear the desperation? The eagerness, the longing, in yourself?”\n\n“Everyone wants to be happy.”\n\n“But so few, so very few, choose to be.”\n\nI looked around again. I noticed every face, and for the rest that were facing away their body language, was anything but happy. Some looked professional and composed, but every actual emotion I saw started at resigned and shaded right down to ill-concealed frustration or anger. There had to be at least fifty in view, and not a one looked like they wanted to be there.\n\n“How?” I asked again.\n\n“How to what?”\n\nI faced the darkness again. “To be happy.”\n\n“What is in your heart?”\n\n“What do you mean?”\n\nThe man swirling within the shadows came closer to me. He was taller, but I didn’t feel like he was looming over me as he approached. Instead, it felt … safe. Reassuring. I stared up at his glowing eyes as he studied me. “This office is yours. Not the yours of now, but the yours of what will be. Do you see happiness here?”\n\n“No,” I said, feeling my stomach knotting up. My knees were starting to wobble.\n\n“No,” he said calmly. “What does that make you think?”\n\nI started to cry. “Like there’s no point.” He caught me as I started to collapse, as the tears wracked my body and shattered my balance. His hands were cool and soft, reassuring. As he steadied me, I blinked tears away so I could see.\n\n“There is always time to change,” he whispered. “The world screams and torments, threatens and pleads. Demands conformity and denies change. But the decision is yours. What will you be tomorrow?”\n\nI straightened and wiped at my face. His hands left me, but hovered. Like he expected me to fall again. “Tired,” I said. “I’ve got to be up by five if I’m going to make it in on time.”\n\n“Tired, yes. But tomorrow, if you listen to the world, you will be this,” he said, and his eyes swept around the office. “You will be as you are. The this of now, the this of tomorrow, the this of always. But if you follow your heart, what will you be?”\n\n“Broke.”\n\n“Perhaps. But perhaps happy as well?”\n\n“What, I’ve got to quit my job to be happy?”\n\n“The world is far bigger than it would like any of us to believe. There is vast possibility, nearly endless. Much beyond the narrow paths it shepherds its obedient sheep along. Happiness is there, but it lays off the lit walk. Out in the darkness. Waiting.”\n\n“Waiting?”\n\n“For you,” he said. “For everyone who dares to reach for it. Tomorrow, if you throw another day away, will you be happy?”\n\n“No.”\n\n“And the next, and the next after that? What about the month after this one? The year following that? Time goes by, and with every moment, more of it slips away. Lost forever. Your life is a dream without direction, and it is the reason you hurt.”\n\n“Yes,” I said, my voice thickening with sobs again. “I have dreams.”\n\n“Then follow them,” he said, and closed his hands around my shoulders. Pulling on me. I hugged the darkness, then found myself blinking up at my bedroom ceiling. Sitting up quickly, I looked around. Light was washing through the curtains on my windows. The darkness was gone.\n\nI jumped as my alarm clock went off. Reflexively I slapped at the snooze button to silence it. Then I turned and looked at it to feel for the switch to turn it off. Rising, I was in the bathroom and reaching to turn the shower on before I realized what I was doing. I hesitated, then left the bathroom. My laptop was on the table in the living room.\n\nIt turned on when I opened the lid. My fingers stroked across the touchpad, and danced across the keyboard. Then hesitated over the last button. I closed my eyes, then opened them and clicked send.\n\n* * * * *\n\n“There’s still time,” my mother said as I went past her with the last box. “Your father can make some calls. Get you rehired. Somewhere.”\n\n“I don’t want to be rehired,” I said as I set the box in the trunk of the car with the others and closed the lid.\n\n“But—”\n\n“Are you happy mom?” I asked, straightening and facing her.\n\n“No, I’m sick with worry for you.”\n\n“Don’t be,” I said, reaching out and putting my hands on her shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”\n\n“You’re throwing away a good career to go float around on a boat,” she said desperately. “What do you know about sailing?”\n\n“I know it’s what I’ve always wanted to do,” I said with a smile.\n\n* * * * *\n\nI collect all my flash fic [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/DavesWorld/). If you liked this, the others might be interesting too. Enjoy!"
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[wp]You burn a cigarette on your arm to show how macho you are, when suddenly someone in the bar one ups you by committing seppukku.
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"As I grit my teeth and slowly spin, showing the whole bar my feat, I let my tongue slip out of my mouth as I nod saying \"Uhuh, heh heh, that's right fuckers!\" Then SLAM! I hear a strong hand hit a table off to the back corner of the bar. Dropping my cigarette and following the eyes of everyone present, I see the shaking heads of 2 Asian men seated at the table. \"The fuck? How did they get swords in here?\" I ask myself quietly. \n\nThey stand in unison, almost like mirror images of each other, one only slightly taller than the other, both broad and muscular. The shorter one moves slowly, never breaking eye contact with me. The taller one, faster, he opens a bag and produces 2 pieces of stark white cloth. One large, one small. The large one, he unfolds and places on the floor without a word, and the shorter guy kneels down on it. The shorter guy rips open his shirt with one clean motion and pulls out some sort of cool looking asian knife from his belt above the sword.\n\nAt this point, most of the bar is fixated on them, as I am. It's hard to look away from the sudden and crazy display. ~ What the hell are they doing? ~ I think to myself.\n\nThe taller guy hands the smaller cloth to the shorter guy and he takes it and wraps it around the middle of the knife blade, making some weird gestures. The taller guy pulls out his sword and stands with it upright, next to his head, standing ready for something. He stares intently down at the head of the guy kneeling down. The kneeling guy - still looking directly into my eyes - points the knife to the left of his extremely sculpted abs. I'm starting to regret my show of manliness as he pulls the knife forward. The next actions happen in an instant that is frozen in my unmanly memory for all time. \n\nThe shorter guy's muscles all tense at once, his teeth grit at the impending pain, his eyes burning a hole into my soul. He brings the knife like lightning back into his lower abdomen, stabbing into his skin and organs. He rips the knife to the right, cleanly slicing through all of the skin and intestines along the way. His muscles seem to tense even further as he resists the pain and refuses to make a sound and just as it seems he's about to relent and scream his life out as his blood pours forth, his companion brings his own sword down hard and fast. He slices through the neck and spine of the man on the floor, the head staying in place for a few seconds, not realizing yet that it had disconnected. Then, still boring holes into my eyes with his own, the head of the guy on the floor falls forward, and blood spurts up, out of his neck. The taller guy looks at me and gives a smug \"hmmpf,\" and a nod before gathering up his friend.\n\nSo anyway, yeah... I that's the story of why I stopped going to bars and why I joined this group! I am now Princess Sparklepants, of the Glitterbutt chapter of Fairy people, and I am the least manly person I know.",
"I can't feel pain. Like, I actually can't. I noticed it when I was 7 years old, and accidentally fell, breaking my wrist. At first, I didn't notice, even though my hand was actually twisted, almost 180 degrees, and all I worried about was, oh no, I'll get in trouble, I broke this lamp! It was later, in the hospital, when I was getting a cast put on did I realize that I should probably be in serious pain.\n\nAt least now, as a (semi) responsible adult, I can do stupid bar-tricks. I huff out a long trail of smoke, and take the last inch or so of the cheap cigarette, and push it into my arm. It smells horrible, burning hair and skin, and then I drop the burned-out stub on the floor. The few random guys seated next to me look on with an amount of respect. Yeah, cool trick.\n\nThen, and I kid you not, a samurai taps me on the shoulder. He's wearing light armor, and carries two swords, a long one, and a short one, barely more than a knife.\n\n\"Um... Can I help you? Sir?\" I was not expecting this. I just wanted to get drunk, maybe get laid, forget my day-job.\n\n\"あなたは私の家族の義務を果たし、私の名誉を回復するのを助けなければなりません.\" He bellows at me, in a harsh tone, staring at me with dark eyes.\n\n\"I didn't understand a word you have said. What do you, oh god, what are you about to do with that sword there?\" I get off my stool, and begin backing up.\n\nThe samurai withdraws the long sword, it's handle wrapped in red ribbon, the guard-thing engraved with dragons, the blade curved, with a single edge. A katana, yes, that's what it's called. \"この剣を持って頭を切ってください。 1回のストロークでそれを行い、私の尊厳を保持してください.\"\n\n\"Don't hurt me, for fucks... oh.\" He turns the sword, presenting me with the handle. I reach and grasp it. Under the red ribbon, decoratively wrapped around the handle, it's rough, almost like sand paper underneath. It's surprisingly light, and I stare at the blade. Polished to a mirror shine, it almost sings in the air as I wave it back and forth, glinting in the light. Everyone in the bar is looking at us now.\n\nHe withdraws the short-sword, a mirror image of the sword I held, simply shorter. \"Whoa, whoa, are we gonna fight? I'll kick your... What are you doing, sir?\"\n\nHe's dropped to his knees, and unties his shirt, revealing a scarred, muscular chest. \"この瞬間が英雄と戦士の名誉ある死を告げる5月。 神々が私に恵まれますように。\"\n\nHe stabs the short sword into his gut, dragging the blade across his belly. He grits his teeth as blood and viscera spills onto the floor, and he begins to drag the blade back across, to the starting point. Half-way back, he lets go. His entrails trail out of his body, and he slumps forwards, looking at me as I stare back in horror.\n\n\"お願いします。 あなたは私を失った。\" He slumps forwards onto the floor, face down, dead.\n\nI walk out of the bar, eyes wide. What the fuck did I just see... Was that to one-up my trick? It can't have been, that would be nuts. Who would kill themselves to prove they were manlier than me? I'm a fucking wimp!\n\nAt least I got a cool sword out of the deal. I know just the place for this little guy, right above my bed."
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[WP] "In the end they all leave, none of them ever have the stomach to do what needs to be done".
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"Her eyes flashed like twin candles, flickering in the torchlight.\n \n\"You are Reinald, son of Reimund, the King of Astria, and the one they call 'God Slayer.'\"\n \n\"Aye, that's me.\"\n \nThe king wore glittering golden armor, and an ornate sword dangled from his hip. His silk cloak bore the royal sigil—a purple dragon with a falchion between its jaws. A golden crown studded with precious gems rested comfortably on his head. The guards behind him were similarly adorned, and together they made quite the spectacle.\n \n\"You come seeking immortality, yes?\"\n \nReinald smiled, his chin held high.\n \n\"What would you offer in exchange?\"\n \nThe king gestured to his guards, and one of them approached her carrying a small bronze statue.\n \n\"The false god of the Ephonites, Uzotl.\"\n \n\"What use would I have for this?\" Her pale face betrayed no emotion.\n \nSurprised, Reinald waved the guard back.\n \n\"Immortality comes with a heavy price. Great sacrifice will be necessary.\"\n \nHe thought for a moment, stroking his beard. \"The queen is pregnant.\"\n \n\"You offer your firstborn child?\" Her gaze was piercing.\n \n\"Well, I can always make another,\" Reinald said with a nervous chuckle. \"Is it enough?\"\n \nShe regarded him silently.\n \nThe king furrowed his brow. \"If it's not enough, I—\"\n \n\"Remove your crown,\" she interrupted.\n \nHe hesitated, glancing back at his guards. Slowly, he lifted the symbol of authority from his dark curls and placed it at her feet.\n \n\"How is it that you can love this metal more than your own child?\"\n \nReinald glared at her, defiant.\n \n\"If you truly wish to be immortal, renounce your claim to the throne. Give the crown to your brother.\"\n \nThe room was filled with the king's thunderous laughter. \"You cannot be serious.\"\n \nSilence.\n \nOne of the guards shifted uneasily. Reinald found himself reaching for his sword.\n \n\"You would raise your weapon against me?\" Her tone froze him in place.\n \nThe guards exchanged anxious glances, suddenly very warm in their golden armor.\n \n\"Leave this place.\"\n \nShe watched with an unchanging expression as King Reinald retrieved his crown and stormed out, his guards at his heels.\n \n\"Will he do it, mother?\" A boy materialized beside her.\n \n\"No. They never have the stomach to do what must be done.\" She let out something like a sigh. \"One day the God Slayer's kingdom will return to dust. What use will his crown be then? Man is so easily consumed by his power and his wealth that he becomes blind to the most important thing in this fleeting world.\"\n \n\"And what is the most important thing?\" The child looked up at her.\n \nShe smiled wistfully and placed a slender hand on his head. \"You will understand someday.\""
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[WP] Tell me about living in a world where being happy or doing enjoyable things shortens your lifespan while the opposite lengthens it.
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"I used to live in a world,\n\nWhere no earthquakes quaked and no tornadoes twirled.\n\n\nDeath was never an accident.\n\nOne made all the choices and chose his own descent.\n\n\nThey said, \"the more you laugh, \n\nthe lesser you'll live.\n\nGive or take, just don't be happy when you give.\"\n\n\nEveryone wanted to live a long life \n\nGrief and silence was the world's strife.\n\n\nI knew a man forelorn,\n\nEvery 100 years someone alike was born.\n\n\nHe laughed at things, they looked at him with their lips pursed.\n\n\"You'll live half a life\", they had always cursed.\n\n\nNever the one to be dismissive.\n\nHe used to say, \"To be happy is to live.\"\n\n "
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[WP] "That Old Gypsy Woman was right..."
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"\"Lemme ask Siri,\" he said from the driver's seat. \"Hey Siri, where's the best place for wings?\"\n\n\"Nah,\" I interrupted. \"Siri's always wrong. Lemme show you someone better.\"\n\nI pulled out my new phone. It's made by this startup called Logicua.\n\nRight away, she started talking.\n\n*\"You will come to a fork in the road, my dears,\"* the old robotic woman said, *\"and like the lone wolf who separates from the rest of the pack, you will take the lonesome road... heed my warning, dears: it is a complicated turn, so you will need to get into the left-only lane... then, once past, you will go as straight as the ox for a thousand plus one paces... the eatery, named Duff's, will be right past the dry cleaners... but beware, my dears... any man who eats the meat from chicken bones in a prime number will surely be cursed and sickened with--\"*\n\nI turned her off. \"Whaddya think?\" I asked.\n\n\"Sure,\" he said. \"Cool. An old gypsy sidekick. Let's do it. Duff's it is.\"\n\nI nodded.\n\n\"Only one question for you, though,\" he added. \"Is this old robot lady listening, like... all the time?\"\n\n///\n \n*Scene #19 of r/100scenes*"
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[WP] In the near future, FTL travel methods have been discovered. While flying through space, you hit an invisible barrier, and the cosmos begins to crack~
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"The cracking shook my blood, vibrating every particle in my body, as if I was slowly splitting apart. I gaze through the glass of my cockpit, squinting through the haze of debris and light. It seems as if I’ve hit the barrier of space, a place where light hasn’t traveled yet. I look around, engulfed by the void, with only the headlights of my spacecraft shining, when my eyes lock onto a strip of utter emptiness. I peer into its depths, appearing as if it goes on indefinitely. It’s as if it is a hole in the wall of space.\n\nI climb out of my cockpit, the airlocks hissing with terror of the undiscovered. I float towards the hole, steadying my hands, attempting to comfort myself in a place which light hasn’t conquered. My hand brushes against the edge of the hole, its jaggedness oddly flexible to my touch. I seem to mold the edge of it at my will, as if it was a slab of gelatin; yet the hole still retains its durability and sharpness, like a boulder. I take my other hand and stick it through. I await a difference, but there seems to be none. I slowly inch my head into the hole, trying to catch a glimpse of what is on the other side. I separate the sides, squeezing my whole body through this crack in space, stepping into a void that is devoid of itself.\n\nI turn my head, slowly looking side to side, not seeing anything in the slightest. I turn around, trying to find the crack which I floated through earlier, but it seems to have disappeared. I attempt to see my new surroundings, but all that there is, is nothing at all. It has a paradoxical effect, being a void without even emptiness to its name. Its darkness puts a black hole to shame, not just absorbing light, but destroying it all together. I think that I’m stuck for eternity, that I will live out my days floating in this abyss, when a glimmer catches my eye. However, it is not light that has come to save me, but a man. A man chiseled to perfect, each muscle sculpted flawlessly, the manifestation of perfection. He is not made of skin, but of something resembling plasma, himself being the light source to this place. He slowly walks up to me, his posture demanding respect, and his steps wielding power. His feet walk on the void itself, seemingly contorting the void to his will. As he approaches, he gets bigger and bigger, towering over skyscrapers, mountains, and even mythical gods, dominating the area which he occupies. \nHe manifests a chalice out of sheer nothingness once he reaches me, bending down as an adult would to a kid. He hands me the chalice, made of an ethereal metal and plated with crystal of materialized void. He looks me in the eye, and with a thundering boom he speaks “Welcome to the Outside. Care for a sip of immortality?”. \n"
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[WP] The universe has decided to simplify all problems: it now neglects friction.
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"God returns to Universe Alpha. He looks down upon the Universe and says, \"Universe Alpha, how are you?\"\n\nUniverse Alpha turns to God. \"Oh, nothing. I decided to help students on Earth.\"\n\nGod chuckled. \"And how'd you do that?\"\n\n\"Oh, it was easy\" Universe Alpha said, \"I just removed friction!\"\n\nGod's smile quickly faded. \"I'm sorry, you did *what*?\" God quickly looked inside the Universe. Everything was chaos.\n\n\"Well fuck\" He said, so that every Universe could hear, \"Now everything's dead.\"\n\n> \n\nMoral of the story?\n\nDon't fuck with friction."
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[WP] A story which starts as a generic fantasy, but at the end reveals that it's actually set in the distant future
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"The elf sat nimbly in the thin branches of the rowan tree, as if he were weightless, aloof.\n\n\"Told you!\" whispered John.\n\n\"WHAT'S THAT, BOY!\" the ship-captain roared.\n\nHe had us by the ears where he had dragged us out from under the pine-board decking of the small galley-boat.\n\n\"We're sorry!\" I said. \"We're sorry!\"\n\n\"WHAT USE IS THAT!\"\n\nThe ship-captain threw us backwards, and down upon the beach we fell, clutching our aching ears, while the elf laughed at us and slipped backwards off the rowan tree.\n\n\"Leave them,\" said a gentle voice.\n\nWe looked up behind us, onto the narrow galley-boat in which we had crossed the Emerald Strait, but no one was there. The small crew had already debarked. There were only a few crates of supplies and several lion skins for trading - except one of the lion skins rose to its feet.\n\nAnd there in front of us, coming down from the boat, was an old man with long hair and beard as white as lightning. He wore the lion skin over his ancient firm shoulders. He stooped with a staff of unknown wood that was blooming living flowers. He looked us over, and his eyes glittered.\n\n\"We'll have to make use of you,\" he chuckled. \"Try not to die too quickly.\"\n\n\"*Die?*\" I asked.\n\nAt that moment, the elf appeared beside the galley-boat - he was holding out a torch, and the boat suddenly caught fire, blazing up behind the old man as he stepped off toward us.\n\n\"Hey!\" shouted John. \"Hey! The boat!\"\n\nHe made to run for the water - like he was going to splash out that huge fire already - but the old man lowered his staff, and John flew backwards.\n\n\"Wizard!\" I cried. \"Run for it, John!\"\n\nWe tore off up the beach into the oak-forest, but of course we didn't know where we were going.\n\n\"I just wanted to see the elves!\" cried John while we ran. \"How are we going to get back!\"\n\n*How are we going to get back!* someone echoed.\n\n*Flowers are showing out back!* someone echoed.\n\n*Flowers and dozens of snacks!* someone echoed.\n\n*Stowaways up on the rack!* someone echoed.\n\nThere was a burst of laughter from the trees, and John and I pulled up short in a circle of elves. They were tall and fair, and their eyes were full of light like water under the sun on a clear day. They wore elegant gray cloaks with hoods that fell back from their flowing hair.\n\n\"We're sorry, boys,\" said one of them. \"You must go no farther.\"\n\nHe sprang backwards as lightly as a bird and landed in the thin branches of another rowan tree. He crouched on the stems and leaves, and he swayed with the wind while it rustled under his feet.\n\n\"I told you they were weightless!\" whispered John. \"What's that?\"\n\nAt last, I looked beyond the elves - at the strange silver creature in front of which they had stopped us. It was enormous and unmoving. It gleamed like the metal of a sword or an axe, except it was shaped like something that belonged in the sky. And, for the way the vines grew over its wings, it must have been dead for ages, but it wasn't rotting at all.\n\n\"What is it?\" I asked the elves.\n\n\"It's a flying machine,\" said a gentle voice over my shoulder.\n\nJohn and I turned around, and the wizard was behind us with his glittering eyes fastened on the great silver creature that the elves were guarding. And all around the wizard the ship's crew were throwing off their boat-clothes - they stood before us now in mail and armor, a dozen warriors, tall and grim with long-swords at their shoulders. The ship-captain looked like a ragged but unmistakeable king.\n\n\"The world is much older than boys like you can guess,\" said the wizard sadly. \"And at one time the sky was full of these flying machines. There were hundreds of them. Thousands. You could circle the globe in a day and drink coffee while you were doing it. But then came the Darkness and our knowledge failed. Everything stopped working. It was a time of terror and confusion and great slaughter, until at last the Darkness grew weary and rested beyond the Wild Continent.\"\n\nJohn stepped backwards and twisted his hands in his tunic.\n\n\"That's just - \" he stammered, \"just legends. That's just legends!\"\n\nJohn looked wildly at me as if I knew any better, but the wizard held forward his staff and John was lifted into the air. John's body floated forward until he was right in front of the old wizard, who looked grimly into John's eyes.\n\n\"What if I said that the legends were true?\" the wizard asked John. \"And that the Darkness is waking up again?\"\n\n\"I'd say I want to go home!\" bawled John.\n\n\"And so do I,\" said the wizard.\n\n*And so do I*, echoed many elvish voices.\n\n*And so do I*, echoed many of the warriors.\n\nBut I didn't say anything.\n\nThe wizard set John down gently on his feet again, and turned him to face the south, in which direction the wizard extended his staff - in front of him, a way seemed to open between the oak-forest and the rowan trees. It was a long rugged highway down into the heart of the Wild Continent.\n\n\"We all want to go home, John,\" said the wizard. \"And maybe we will. Maybe we will. But first we are called upon to do something else, to go meet the Darkness, and to stop it.\"\n\n\"To stop it?\" asked John.\n\nBut the wizard only strode forward grimly, with the warriors closing ranks on either side of him. And the many elves came following, offering us golden apples, and sweeping us along in the mad march down into the Wild Continent, down to meet the Darkness. It was the march that the legends called - if I remembered them as well as John - the Last Doomed Attempt.\n"
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[WP] You've come across a genie who only grants wishes that matter. You're having trouble getting anything out of the genie.
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"\"Nope.\"\n\n\"Seriously? How can 'world peace' not matter?\"\n\n\"Because it overrides our free will. I cannot grant a wish that controls people.\"\n\n\"So you can't make my ex fall back in love with me?\"\n\n\"Nope.\"\n\n\"Dammit.\" The genie smirked at me, checking his imaginary watch. We'd been at it for about 40 minutes and I was out of ideas. He was a slippery little devil, this one. I don't know what I expected from what looked like just an old oil can. \n\n\"Anything else you'd like to try?\" \n\n\"Something that doesn't harm anyone, no stealing, no changing the past, and no controlling people's free will...\"\n\n\"That's right.\" I thought hard. \"That's right, think hard, Julie.\" I glared at him. Such a jerk. But I guess if I had to deal with millennia of dumb requests I'd be a little snarky too. I had one more idea, and if it was going to work I had to be specific.\n\n\"I want a notebook filled with the names of people who will be important or useful in my life, a paragraph after each of their names detailing how they will be important, and a line to prompt me as to how I should interact with them, and I want a second notebook with the same but with people *I'm* supposed to help along the way. And I want a list of all the winning lottery numbers for the next 5 years so I can share with my friends and family.\"\n\n\"Crap. Your wish is granted.\""
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[WP] Your mail order mermaid just arrived. You, thinking it was a joke, are totally unprepared. And you owe somebody $8000.
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"I pressed my face against the door, inspecting the knock through the peephole. DHS? I didn’t remember ordering anything recently. Probably more basketball jerseys off of chinese amazon again. I cursed my drunken online shopping as I swung the door open. \n \nThe delivery man was a sight and a half. Sweat stains sagged from his collar and underneath his arms. Stubble ran from the length of his neck to his nostrils and his eyes were clusters of red tendrils. He leaned on the wooden crate and held out a handheld scanner. \n \n“Hi. Sign here, please.” He said between ragged breaths. \n \n“What is this thing?” I said, looking past the scanner to the crate’s mandarin characters. \n \nThe delivery man pushed the scanner closer until its plastic kissed my sternum. “Dunno. Does it look like I fucking speak chinese?” \n \nI took the scanner and scribbled. “I don’t know, I would never assume--”\n \n“Thanks,” he said, taking the scanner and clipping it to his belt. He turned and headed for the exit, dragging his dolly in tow. \n \nI stepped out after him.“Hey, can you at least help me get this thing into my apartment?” \n \n“Fuck no. It’s your problem now.” His greasy chuckle echoed as he turned the corner. \n \nI shrugged and examined the crate. It looked like the crate my college mattress came in, except twice as tall. Stuck to the far end was an envelope addressed to me. I attacked the surplus of tape with my keys, taking care not to rip the envelope. \n \n*Dear Mr. Conrad, \n \nWe hope that you find this specimen to your liking. You’ll find these creatures to be great companions and mates. An associate from Merijoy company will be by shortly after you receive this specimen to exact the payment due of USD8000.\n \nWe hope that you find great joy in your purchase and wish you good fortune. Thank you for doing business with Merijoy Inc. \n\nSincerely, \n\nMr. Han. CEO of Merijoy Inc.* \n \nEight thousand dollars, I thought, rubbing my brow. Are you fucking kidding me? I’ll never drink again. What the fuck is in this box anyway? Companions and mates? Creatures? I’m not even allowed to own a cat. What’s in the box? \n \nI kicked the edge of the crate. The thud was returned in kind. And I jumped.\n \nA hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. I jumped again. \n \n“Jesus, what the fuck man? You can’t be going around grabbing people like that.” I yelled at the short, suited man responsible for my fright. \n \n“Mr. Conrad, I’m from the Merijoy corporation. I’m sorry to scare you, but I’m here to exact payment.” \n \nI began to sweat. I hardly had money for groceries, let alone an extra eight grand to give to this guy and whatever his company was pushing. “What’s in the box, Mr….”\n \n“Mr. White.” \n \nI cocked an eyebrow. The ambiguous Hollywood gangster name didn’t help my anxiety. “What’s in the box, Mr. White?”\n \n“Your mermaid, of course” \n \n“My...mermaid?” \n \nHe nodded. “Yes. Your mermaid.” \n \nI laughed in his face. “There’s no such thing as mermaids Mr. White. How much of a Rube do you think I am? That’s, if I had to venture a guess, a big ol’ fish. Or a lizard. Not a mythical animal-human hybrid.”\n \nHe offered a reserved chuckle. “Well, Mr. Conrad, you bought a mermaid and we delivered a mermaid.” \n \nI laughed again and went for the crate’s latch. Quickly, Mr. White stepped between the crate and I. \n \n“The payment first, Mr. Conrad.” \n \n“I, er, don’t have eight grand.” \n \nMr. White’s cheerful demeanor dropped. He pulled his sleeve to his mouth and whispered. At the far end of the hallway, the sweaty DHS man came, dolly in tow. \n \n“Sorry, Mr. Conrad. No money: no mermaid.” Mr. White said. \n \nI stepped back and watched the two gentlemen, one white collar, one blue, handily load the crate leave. After they turned the corner I stepped back into my apartment. \n \nMy roommate peered over his shoulder from the couch. “What was that?” \n \n“Nothing,” I said, locking the door. “Just a mermaid.”\n",
"\"Ugh...\" I groaned, clambering out of the makeshift sofa bed. The night before was a blur, a hazy recollection of drunken binge watching videos on youtube, and something else. I booted up my computer, and opened up google, and searched through my history. Music videos from the 80s, facebook, reddit, the usual for a friday booze filled night. Except for a single website. \n\n*MailOrderMerfolk.com*\n\nI clicked the link, and found myself on a shady looking website. I started to recall my drunken endeavours from last night, as I re-read the description:\n\n*Are you lonely? Do you wish for companionship? Do you want to help further the research of biomarine life? Then get yourself a merfolk! This fish person will be the perfect way to liven up your home!*\n\nThe drunkened messaging, with friends daring me to do, saying they would chip in if it actually happened. I scrolled down, seeing I had bought the 'deluxe' package, complete with enclosure for the mermaid. Which totalled to £8000. \n\n*Thank you for your purchase! Your mermaid will be delivered by tomorrow. Payment is not needed upfront. We allow up to a month before we expect at least part of the payment.*\n\nThe doorbell rang. I got up, and a deliveryman, quite staunch and wearing a fearsome beard, looked back at me. A large truck was behind him. It seems it wasn't a hoax. \"One mermaid, the deluxe set, right?\" He asked. I merely nodded. \"Good. Got the right house. Where do you want us to set up the mermaid enclosure?\" \"Er, in my garden. Let me open the door for you.\" I grabbed my keys, and opened up the gate leading to my quaint garden. \"Perfect. We'll start right now. Oh, and before I forget, you'll need to keep the mermaid inside your house while we set up its enclosure. Is that Ok?\" \"Yeah, yeah. It's fine\" I mumbled. \n\nAs I went back inside, I saw the mermaid lying on the sofa. \"Oh, hello!\" She said with a smile, which came off quite calm. \"So you felt like a little bit of mermaid in your life?\" She continued, with a coy wink. I tried to tell her otherwise. \"err, there was a bit of a mixup. I was incredibly drunk last night, and I went a bit crazy, and now..\" I trailed off, the mermaid beckoning me closer. \"I can tell you're lonely.\" I felt compelled to sit down next to her. She flipped over, herself now on my lap. She started to hug me, and started to sing. \"You should be happy. You've got little 'ol me to keep you from going insane.\" The singing was hypnotic, and I felt myself lulled into a quiet comatose state...\n\nI snapped out of the trance I was in finally, after the deliveryman from before was in front of me, trying to get my attention. \"We've finished. My boys will get her to the enclosure.\" Two burly men came in on que, picking up the mermaid, taking her outside. He turned to me, handing me a couple of pamphlets. \"This should help you take of little miss Aquilia over there.\" I took them slowly. \"I feel like I should I say that I was quite drunk last night when I ordered this. \" He just laughed. \"I think you need this. You can't back out now anyway. Have fun!\" With that, he left, leaving me to the lake I had sank down into, with nothing but a mermaid to try to guide me through it.\n\n--\nAmazing Prompt! I decided to spend way too much time on this. :3",
" I probably shouldn't have ordered from that site... now I'm kinda screwed. I didn't think the website was real and I didn't even have to put in an address or credit card, I didn't even need to give a name. It was a magical creature website and you'd get to own one, there were vampires, werewolves, anything really. I pushed order on a mermaid and the site said the order was placed, I was just trying to see something but it apparently didn't have an \"are you sure\" thing before buying. I thought it was fine because I didn't provide any information. \n\n About a week later I was at home when I heard a knock at my door, when I looked through the peep hole I saw a guy with a really big box behind him. I opened the door and he asked where to put the mermaid and said that he was expecting his payment. I told him I didn't mean to order anything and he said I'd have to pay somehow. I was confused but he just said some kind of spell and I passed out.\n\n When I woke up I was underwater, but I didn't feel like I was drowning. I looked around to see my hair was long and black, it was floating in the water and when I went to touch it I noticed my hand had more webbing between the fingers and was smaller. My forearm had some kind of short fin thing on the side like Batman or something. I looked down and tried to scream, I didn't hear much and there were no bubbles that'd be there if I was holding my breath.\n\n What I saw when I looked down was... completely insane. I had an hourglass figure with a mostly blue fish tail and my chest... had some type of seaweed looking stuff wrapped around it. I was a guy that wasn't too fit before and now I was a mermaid... when I moved my hand around I found out I was in glass. There was a bit of air above the water so I stuck my head above, while my neck was above the water I had the feeling of not being able to breathe. When I felt my neck I felt rows of slits and I assumed they were gills, I knew I couldn't breathe air at that moment. \n\n After a while of what felt like the water moving I was put upside down and fell into a big tank. It was an aquarium style one with rocks on the bottom and some rock shapes I thought I could probably could swim through. On the other side of the glass was some guy in a suit talking to the guy that was at my door, there was a mirror in the tank and when I looked in it I stared for a second. I looked like Alexandra Daddario, I was so confused for a second but I assumed the guy made me into a mermaid or switched my mind into the mermaids body. \n\n I spent the next hour hitting the glass then exploring the tank. When I got hungry he threw a fish in the tank, I held it and shook my head at the guy... it wasn't cooked or anything. After a few hours I got so hungry that I took a bite of the fish... it was pretty good so I ate the rest. There was a clam shaped thing that I decided to lay down on the best I could and sleep. \n\n I spent the month in there and eventually got the guy to get me my old phone in a waterproof case with it set up not to send messages or anything, I had to hand it to his worker or whatever to charge it whenever it got low. It was hard to ask for stuff cause the voice I had now definitely wasn't meant for talking. I could make noises and stuff but the voice just sounded weird... it made sense though. My boredom was kinda fixed since I could listen to music with headphones and watch videos but I couldn't ask for help... even if I could nobody would believe me. \n\n It's been two months and I've had to go through making a bunch of eggs... it happens every few weeks. This all pretty much sucks... though everything is simpler, I see another empty display thing across the room they're putting a forest like area in now. I'm guessing it's a werewolf or something but I don't really know. "
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[WP] You think somebody is out to get you. Your family do not believe you.
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"My wife brought me a sandwich and a water bottle as I sat in the car. \"You're being ridiculous, John. You haven't been inside this house in two days. The kids keep asking about you -- especially Emma.\"\n\nI bit into the sandwich and moaned with delight. \"What did you tell them?\" I asked.\n\n\"That you've been working overtime.\"\n\nI nodded and took a swig from the water bottle. \"Someone's out to get me, Sal. I can't say who, but it's much safer this way.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" she said. \"Well, I told the kids you'll be back tonight. So, if you're not; then don't bother coming back ever. The door will be locked.\"\n\n\"But you don't understand! Why won't you believe me?\"\n\nShe checked her watch. \"The kids go to bed in an hour.\" She quirked her brow at me. \"I *expect* you to be there to tuck them in.\"\n\nAs I entered the house, I noticed the immediate silence. The stillness. \n\nIn the kitchen, I heard the constant stream of running water as my wife watched the dishes. A TV was on somewhere deep in the house, and I could hear my son giggling.\n\nSomething moved in the shadows. I whipped my head to the side to look, but saw nothing.\n\nPadded footsteps, coming at me from all directions.\n\nThen, something small and chubby poked me in the side. I screamed and looked down.\n\nMy four year old daughter laughed and yelled, \"Got you! You're it!\" then ran off, squealing with joy, as I chased her down the hall."
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[WP] Oscar Wilde once said: "Murder is always a mistake. One should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner.". Write about an exclusive dinner party that only killers are invited to.
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"Nature of the Beast\n\nOscar stood holding a metal tray in his hands behind a large bearded inmate with acne visible beneath sparse hair on the back of his neck. Averting his gaze from the inmate's skin disease Oscar looked down at his tray. One biscuit with thin white gravy on it, A syrupy pile of unidentifiable steam-bleached fruit, and a soggy breaded chicken patty impaled on a spork. A guard stepped through the line between Oscar and the bearded man and took Oscar’s tray from him. “You’re being transferred.” The guard said. “Come with me.” Oscar read his transfer paperwork as the guard walked him down the hall under old, yellow fluorescent lights towards the administrative area. The smell of body odor and rancid oil faded as they walked away from the chow hall. The transfer paper listed “Teclis” as the transfer destination and Oscar recalled a telephone call a year…maybe two years prior in which he had agreed to participate in a special rehabilitation program. The man on the phone had said that word. Teclis. \n\nIn the back of a windowless van shacked to a seat Oscar had 10 hours to contemplate the meaning of the bag that hung on the security gate between him and the drivers. It was the sort of bag that would hold a suit of clothes. “What’s in the bag” he had asked the drivers an hour into the drive. “Shut the fuck up kid-killer. That’s what’s in the bag. Open your mouth again and we’re going to leave some of your teeth by the side of the road.” \n\nOscar watched the highway through a lattice of metal between him and the drivers. The landscape changed from the hills of southern California to the desert of Nevada. The sun overtook the van and dipped toward the horizon bringing the evening scarlet to the wide desert. The van turned right off a dirt road and a field of lush greenery replaced the desert rocks. At the end of a long paved driveway lined by acacia trees Oscar could see five other vans parked in a row in front of a gothic mansion. His van pulled up alongside the others. The light outside was dim and all around the cul-de-sac old-fashioned gaslights hung from wrought iron poles. The guards handled him out of the van and removed his arm and leg shackles. They thrust the bag into his hands. “Get your clothes off. Get dressed.” Oscar unzipped the bag and the smell of dry cleaning chemical overpowered the scent of acacia blossoms. Inside was a pair of black tuxedo pants and a white jacket, bow tie, briefs, black socks, black shoes, shirt, and cufflinks. Oscar stripped out of his clothes and left them in a pile next to the van’s wheel. He put on the tuxedo and said “I don’t suppose either of you know how to tie a bow tie.” The taller of the two guards took the bow tie, tied it into a simple knot and pulled it tight with such force that the veins in his neck bulged out as he strained. He threw it at Oscar’s feet. “Get fucked.” He said. \n\nA man in a red kimono ran out of the mansion and said “finally you have arrived! Come, come inside with me! You are now my guest. Dinner is soon to be served. The other five guests you do not know but there’s one guest you do know! Come! I am your host!” The host spoke with a flamboyant affect and dragged out the word “do” to a crescendo. \n \nOscar entered the dining room behind the host and saw Jessica, his wife standing among the other guests. She looked twenty pounds lighter than the last time he had seen her; the bones in her face were much more pronounced. She looked old. Her hair that had once been shoulder length and bleached blonde was now brown and cut short. She was wearing a black evening gown and a gold necklace with a single pearl that rested just above her breasts. Oscar had not seen cleavage or his wife for many years. \n\nThe host walked to the head of a massive table made out of a solid slab of white marble. On a small white plate in front of him were two whistles, one white and one red. “My name is Teclis and I have spent a considerable fortune to bring you all here. All of you have much in common. All of you were convicted of first degree murder. Each of you is acquainted with exactly one other person here. Exactly one other person here was your accomplice or…helper…or hitman. Whatever.” Here’s what we’re doing. When I blow the white whistle twenty servants will come out. You will all tell them whatever you want to eat. No matter what it is we can get it. While we wait for the food to arrive you will all tell your stories. Thus we will begin your rehabilitation.” He picked up the white whistle, put it to his lips, and made a slight peep. Out of a side door came twenty men in tuxedos who marched into a circle around the killers. Oscar could not take his eyes off of Jessica. He had never in his life seen her so elegantly dressed. Around them the room had erupted into a tumult as the other guests laughed and shouted over one another “Pizza. Pepperoni pizza. Fried catfish. Okra. Grits. McDonald’s. Strawberries. Ice Cream. Apples. Tamales. Reefer. Vodka. Cheese sticks.” Oscar and Jessica stared across the circle of guests and waiters. Jessica’s lips were pulled in tight, her arms crossed with her hands in her armpits. She met his eyes and shifted, then again, and again. Neither one of them spoke. \n\nThe waiters filed out of the room, their dress shoes tapping out a single file path on the wood parquet floor. “Everyone sit!” said Teclis. He sat down, put his elbows on the table and cradled his chin on the back of his entwined fingers. “It is time to see the nature of the beast. You first!” He gestured with a butter knife toward Jessica. Oscar could already see her mascara smearing as she fought back tears. Her right hand was on the table and he reached over to touch it with his left. She pulled it away. “No.” She said. “Let me rephrase my request slightly.” Said Teclis. “Underneath this house is the deepest hole you ever did see. I declare it makes Silence of the Lambs look like the Four Seasons! Tell me the nature of the beast or you will live in that hole until you die.” He spoke with the same flamboyancy as before. Jessica turned her head to look at Oscar. Her eyes got wide in a way he had not seen in all the years that they were together. “No.” She kept looking at Oscar. “Interesting.” Said Teclis. “Take her downstairs.” He peeped the white whistle twice and large man in a tuxedo led Jessica away. Oscar’s mouth hung open as Teclis swung the point of the butter knife in his direction. “I guess we’re only getting your side of the story” he said. \n\n“It’s not a story” said Oscar. “We had a son. He wasn’t born right. He would have been two years old forever. We decided he would be better off with God. I left him in our car. In the sun. Until he died.” Oscar pointed at the door where the man had exited with Jessica. “She agreed. She did the internet search. On her OWN phone she did the search so we knew how long to…wait.” Teclis waved the knife. “So she helped you put him in the car, did she? Buckled him into his little seat and said goodbye, did she?” he said. “No” Oscar said. “She was at work. But she learned how to do it. We agreed. It was her idea.” \n\n“That certainly sounds like a story to me” said Teclis. “I would have liked to hear her side. To hear it here, now, away from the jury, not backed into a corner, not telling the story the lawyers wrote for her. Oh well. She had her chance. “ \n\nOscar put his elbows on the thick white marble and put his face in his hands. The sound of the voices around him seemed to coalesce into an unidentifiable sludge as the cold white marble under his arms chilled his skin. He trembled under his neatly pressed tuxedo. At intervals his fugue was broken as Teclis waved his silver butter knife and responded to the other killers’ stories with loud, dramatic exclamations. \n\n“Oh! You beasts!” \n\n“I can’t believe you thought you would both get away with that!” \n\n“Well you two certainly showed your parents who’s boss!” \n\nThe doors swung open and the scent of grease pushed into the room. In a single file line the waiters walked in carrying silver trays under meticulously polished chrome serving domes. They set the trays down on the table in front of each killer. “Dinner is served!” Teclis said, his arms raised above his head. The spot in front of him on the huge table remained empty. The waiters all removed the chrome lids simultaneously to reveal trays piled with an assortment of food like Oscar had never seen. The tray in front of him bore a thick steak with red juice running out of it, an ear of corn, a slice of watermelon, and a crock of baked beans. A pile of food he had not asked for. \n\n“You’ll have to eat with your hands.” Teclis said. “Can’t go giving monsters like you knives and forks, can we?” He waved his silver butter knife like a conductor’s baton. The waiters exited the room, this time with haste, certainly not in single file. They bumped shoulders as they passed through the door two by two. It closed with a loud click behind them. \n\nOscar stood up. “We’re not monsters.” He said. \n\nTeclis crouched down and put his index finger through a metal ring on the floor. He pulled up on it and a hatch lifted open. \n\n“Sit down. Time to eat. You are monsters if I say you are. I don’t think I can rehabilitate any of you. The woman, perhaps, but not any of you” said Teclis. “It’s time to see the nature of the beast. You all had better eat quickly.” He lifted the red whistle to his lips, took a deep breath and blew into it. It produced no sound. From the open cellar door emerged a filthy black dog. Then another. Another. Another. Oscar stopped counting at ten as he saw Teclis rush through a hidden panel in the wall behind him, the corner of his red kimono still peeking out as the panel snapped shut over it. By the time the swatch of fabric was pulled through the crack the dogs were on Oscar and the others. \n",
"-texting\n\"Hey, are you going to Smiley's thing dude?\"\n\"Nah, I have shit to do.\"\n\"C'mon it'll be boring without you.\"\n\"I'm gonna be busy, you know how I get after a hunt...I get squeamish.\"\n\"Fuck me! You got a fish?!!!!\"\n\"Yeah, maybe.\"\n\"Dude you always get the good ones, let me have some seconds pleeeeeeas.?\" \n\"Not today man, this bitch is mine only.\"\nClick.",
"I have no idea what I am doing here, driving through an archway that looks like it came straight from a Greek movie, towards the brightly lighted mansion on the hill. Never in my life have I once approached this neighbourhood, much less drive through it. \n\nWith my meager detective pay, I can't even afford to buy a dog house in this estate, reserved for some of the richest and most powerful. But the invitation was too hard to ignore. I look at the golden embroidered card lying on the passenger seat, with my name written clearly on the cover. \"Come to the grand red party,\" it said, \"and all your dreams will be fulfilled.\"\n\nNormally, I would have dismissed the card as another hoax, sent by one of the many crazy people to the police. But it was signed off by the killer who called himself \"The Doctor\", responsible for more than a dozen kidnappings and murders over the past year. No one in the public should know the name, as we have kept the name under wraps to sift out leads worth chasing. I had to know.\n\nI park my car near the lawn of the house, my Honda a pale comparison to the Porches, Lamborghinis, Maseratis and Bentleys around me. My fingers adjust the button of my suit carefully, ensuring that my gun and two spare clips are tucked safely in the hidden pockets that I have sewn into the suit. A knife hangs near my waist, insurance in case things go haywire.\n\nTonight is going to be my solo operation. Chief Hampton had refused my request for backup, citing the lack of evidence for a full blown operation. \"Too risky,\" he simply said, and asked me to be patient. To wait for more leads. But time is something that I do not have. The Doctor's case is a personal case to me, and I am desperate. \n\nI take a deep breath as I walk to the entrance, the sound of jazz music drifting through the double large wooden door. A smartly dressed man, with a brown vest and a red bowtie, stood next to the entrance. He extends his hand as I approach. \"Your invitation card please, sir?\"\n\nI hand him the card and he promptly checks it, before handing it back to me with a smile. \"Ah detective, welcome. The Doctor is waiting for you inside.\"\n\nMy heart skip a beat as I walk through the door, the sound of chatter and the music growing louder. A long hallway connects the entrance to the ballroom, one that reminds me of a medieval setting. I clutch the handle of my knife tightly, fully expecting the entire affair to be a trap by The Doctor.\n\nAs I step into the ballroom, my eyes slowly adjust to the dim lighting. The room suddenly falls quiet and the music comes to an abrupt stop. A figure in the middle of dance floor catches my eye, a face that I immediately recognize. Julia, my daughter. Missing for the past few days, kidnapped by The Doctor.\n\nMy hand reach immediately for my gun, when I hear a familiar voice. \"Ah Detective Ryan, glad to have you here!\" the voice declares in a jovial manner. A loud voice enough to fill the entire room, just like...\n\nI turn immediately, gun drawn, to face the smiling face of Chief Hampton. The bugger is still dressed in his police uniform.\n\n\"You!\" I seethe. \"You're The Doctor!\"\n\nHampton laughs. \"Took you long enough to figure it out. Not to mention you need my help to do it.\"\n\n\"Why? Where is this? Where am I?\" I ask. Questions flood my head, while my sharp pain of betrayal stabs through my heart. I grip my gun tighter, to stop it from shaking.\n\nThe Chief walk past me, towards Julia, before turning to face me. He gestures to the around him, to all the smartly dressed people in the room. In my blur of emotion, I did not recognize most of the faces when I first walked in, but they are starting to strike me as strangely familiar. I swear I can see the faces of some prominent mobsters and even dictators in the room.\n\n\"Welcome to the dinner of killers!\" the chief shouts, to the applause and cheers of the attendees. He then points at me. \"You included.\"\n\n\"I am not a killer,\" I whisper back.\n\nHe grins at me sentence, staring me straight with his dark brown eyes. \"Oh, you will be soon enough.\"\n\n--------------\n\n*Shoot or don't shoot? Why not subscribe to /r/dori_tales? As usual, feedback welcomed!*",
"London is used to seeing posh, exclusive get-together gatherings of middle aged men who try to impress each other with their mediocre accomplishments in life but this one was slightly different. For one, the dark restaurant, operating in a damp Hampstead basement, had no sign outside. Its staff was well trained to keep to themselves and the annoying habit of pretending to befriend the clientele was not practiced in that particular restaurant.\n \n \nThere were about 20 of them, all with dark, slim fit suits, which could hide very well handguns -- although tonight all firearms were deposited before the gathering began. The bi-annual meeting of United Kingdom’s top hitmen started as a way for the top-of-the-top to socialize safely. Despite their secretive work, they were eager to talk; after all, at the end of a long day they could never share with their spouse their hardships or events. \n \n \nVery few of them have declined the personalized invite. That hand-written note emphasized they should come on their own -- no plus ones. “*Be yourself; everyone else is already taken*,” it simply said, but they knew what this code means.\n \n \n \n“Have you finished reading Dorian Gray?” asked Mr. Brown.\n \n \n \n“Of course, some two weeks ago, on the train to Glasgow. Personally, I would just murder the old bastard -- we both know that highly valued paintings worth it,” answered Mr. White, ever so sure of himself.\n \n \n \n“And did you like it?”, Mr. Brown tried to ignore the condescending tone.\n \n \n \n“Meh. Not much to talk about there -- too much dialogue and not enough action. Give me a Bruce Willis film any day instead and I’ll take it.”\n \n \n \n“OK, but I think you’re missing out on so many details when going to the cinema. Which reminds me --”\n \n \n \n“--I know, you want to ramble on one of the films you watched on a plane, right?” interjected Mr. White. \"You're always dropping the fact you've a private jet. We get it.\"\n \n \n \n“Never interrupt me again,” Mr. Brown waved his steak knife menacingly.\n \n \n \nAt this point O’Brian decided to step between the two men. “Guys, relax. We’ve decided to leave agressions outside tonight, right?” he smiled reassuringly. “Besides, you shouldn’t hold a grudge for that misunderstanding you had two years ago. You know, *you should always forgive your enemies -- nothing annoys them so much*,” he winked.\n \n \n \nMr. Brown smacked the table with his large hand and faked a hearty laughter. “Sure, sure! You’re perfectly right. Look at us, getting excited over some old book, heh?” he reached his other hand towards Mr. White in a gesture of peace. Mr. White hesitated for a moment and reached his own hand to make the reconciliatory shake of peace.\n \n \n \n“Very good,” said O’Brian. He was always a peacemaker, a critical skill when growing up in the rough neighborhoods of North Dublin. “Another bottle of wine, maybe?” he suggested, looking around the table. “I heard the bar here is great.”\n \n \n \n“They do know their stuff,” agreed Mr. Brown. “Too bad they don’t have prices on the menu.”\n \n \n \n“*If you’ve price for everything, you’ll value nothing*,” retorted Mr. White.\n \n \n \n“Go on, let’s move to the heavier stuff. We’re all done with the eating,” shouted at him McDermott from the other end of the table, his strong Belfast accent contrasting O’Brian softer one. \n \n \n \n“Aye-aye”, murmurs of consent sounded from around the table. O’Brian went to the bar to bring a nice bottle of cognac.\n \n \n \nO’Brian returned to the table with a nice bottle of Croizet from 1916. When he noticed how Brown and White were still not at ease, he placed the bottle gently aside and then put a firm hand each on Brown and White’s shoulders. “Fellas, give it a break. We get it: you’re all big machos, but we’re here to enjoy ourselves, not just to start a fight, right?”\n \n \n \nAt the other end of the table only parts of this conversation were heard. “A fight?” shouted McDermott, almost slurring out the words as he was getting drunker and drunker. “Why have a fight? Surely we can do better. We fight all day long for our living, for our country, for … some money!” he roared with laughter, triggering similar reaction from at least half the crowd.\n \n \n \n“Look at him, talking about work again,” said Mr. Brown quietly.\n \n \n \n“*Work is the curse of the drinking classes*,” added Mr. White. “Too bad he’s such a terrible drinker.”\n \n \n \n“At least he’s not bringing up murders,” chimed in O’Brian, and with that remark the chatter around the room deceased at once, as everyone was looking at him accusingly.\n \n \n \n“*Never bring up murder*,” said Mr. Brown.\n \n \n \n“*That is always a mistake*,” added Mr. White, and McDermott hailed from the other end of the room, “*I’ve never murdered anyone: one should never do anything that one cannot talk about after dinner!*\"\n \n \nO'Brian bowed out, excused himself to the door, and mumbled to himself: \"we should open an Oscar Wilde book-club instead.\"\n "
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[WP] On your 18th birthday, your mother sits you down and says, "You're old enough to know now." You look at her curiously as she continues. "Your father is Father Time."
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"\"It's simple, son. Time, well, it has ways of catching you. Even if you ain't prepared for such things. He just sneaks up and pulls you into his arms before you even know what to expect. \nThat's how you came along. \nI won't bother you with the specifics, you're old 'nuff to understand the sort of thing I'm talking about. Sometimes it's lonely out there. And a person needs another person, even if for a night. \n\"Time's no different. \nHe said he watched me fer years. Which ain't much for his sort. It weren't nothing I never heard before. Men of all sorts were always knocking on my door. Flowers. Promises. They never meant much in the long run. \nYour father, well, he was different. The words felt better on him. Fit him like a fine suit. Crisp and clean as his eyes. He told me 'bout who he was. What he did. Why we could never be together. But he knew I special. He knew I would go on to do something with my life. \nI ain't never heard words like that from a man. The men around me, they call me pretty, sure. I was blessed in that department. But none of them ever said I was special. Or that I could make something of the lot I was given. \nI needed to do something with the lot I was given. \nI warmed to him like butter on bread fresh from the oven. We only had a night but it seemed to span eternity. Like life stood still for eons before starting right back up again. \nWell, here I am yapping on 'bout things I said I wouldn't. Short of it is: you're that something special. You're the gift he gave to me. And you're the gift I give to the world. I ain't sure what you'll do with your lot. But I made sure it was better than mine. I don't have much of time left in me. But I have enough to tell you that you'll do great things. And I love you, son.\" ",
"I am six. The doctor is looking at me strangely. I look back into his eyes and he turns away. He has been poring over the results on his computer screen, which is as old as I am, in increasing agitation for the past 13 minutes before giving up. Mom sits beside me in one of the mint-green chairs which were purchased for the clinic in 1993, her knee bouncing up and down at a frequency of twice per second.\n\n\"It's just I've never seen anything quite like this before. The samples, the scans... they're all over the place. Not to mention the psych eval... Biologically speaking I could make an argument for any age between dead and.... prenatal, by pointing to different parts of this report. Are we sure they all came from...\" The doctor has a halting way of speaking, each pause punctuated by a swirling motion of his hand. On the last one, he takes a furtive glance at me. I have only the vaguest sense of some of the words. 'Prenatal' is one I will acquire when I am nine, I have reason to believe. The fact that I have this belief does not strike me as odd. After all, I am six.\n\n\"But is there anything seriously *wrong* with him, Doctor Sing?\" mom asks, quietly, as if hoping I won't hear.\n\n\"Define wrong!\" the doctor throws his hands up in the air. I swing my legs back and forth off the front of the chair and pretend not to listen. \"There is nothing life-threatening, at least not the I can tell... but you should really take him to a specialist upstate. I specialize in pediatrics, but this is... I don't know what this is.\"\n\n\"I'm not taking him upstate,\" mom says flatly. She reaches over to take my hand.\n\n\"Look, maybe I got my readings wrong, but maybe I didn't! Your son could result in... reams of research, if this is correct! Any of this!\"\n\n\"I don't want him to result in reams of research! I just want him to have a normal life!\"\n\nDr. Sing's canted eyes soften. \"That's all any of us want. But sometimes it's not possible. Your son may be one of those cases. I...\"\n\n\"I think I've heard all I care to hear from you, Dr. Sing,\" mom sniffs. She gathers me up in her arms. I'm slightly too big for such a maneuver, anymore, but she does it anyway and I hold tight around her shoulders.\n\nI will not see a doctor again until I am seventeen.\n\n*** \n\nI am 12. New old school. It was founded in 1927, though this building is of a more recent vintage - 2001 or so. The most recent eruption on my face reached maximum anger twelve hours ago, while I slept. The oldest has stubbornly hung on for four days. The percussion instrument I am playing was acquired by the music department in 1987. It is a connected group of hollow wooden blocks of various sizes and resonances, played with round-ended wooden mallets. A small crowd has gathered to watch me, consisting of the most open-minded of the Band kids. One is operating a pair of metronomes hidden behind a fortress of sheet music binders, so that I cannot see or easily hear them.\n\n\"Aaaand... go!\" she says, setting them to ticking.\n\nI begin to play. I hit one of the boxes with my left mallet at 60 bpm. I hit another with the right mallet at 78 bpm. Beside me, a pair of the other students begin tapping out another beat on the table at a third rate, one I judge to be around 50 bpm, though they sloppily vary. The metronome girl's eyes flicker from the devices to my hands, widening as they continue to match tempo.\n\n\"Holy crap. I've never seen someone keep two tempos like that before. Least not a student. *Maaaybe* Mrs. Murphy could do it. You say you've never played before?\" asks one of the older students.\n\n\"Right on the nanosecond!\" the metronome girl exclaims. She exaggerates. Due to lag in the nerves I am accurate to the millisecond at best.\n\n\"You've gotta join Band, man. Dump that art elective. This is, like, your calling, dude. We need you on the drumline.\"\n\nThe people who will become my first real friends don't notice that beneath the table, with my right foot, I am tapping along to their third beat.\n\n***\n\nI am eighteen. Mom is forty-nine. She has hesitated for thirty-seven seconds after asking me to sit down in the living room. I am on the couch that we got second-hand in 2008, which was manufactured in... but no. I've matured. I've learned to not do... that thing I do sometimes. I don't need to tell you the year everything was created as if that lets you infer its character the same way telling you its color or texture might. I've long since learned that not everyone can impute meaning from chronology.\n\nThe couch is upholstered in dark blue and cream, the varnish on its wooden frame worn through in places. There.\n\nI anticipate remembering this conversation. I've tried to stop doing that, as well - anticipating remembering things. Just like I've tried to shake this detached atemporal style I've defaulted to ever since I acquired fine motor skills enough to write. I've never written with the innocence of youth or the passion of adolescence. I've never had those things to write with. I anticipate remembering this conversation as explaining the reason why.\n\n\"You're old enough to know now. Though sometimes I think you were always old enough. Or... something like that,\" she says, tilting her head and looking at me the way she always does when my way of existing presents a puzzle to her. \"But if I have to select a time it ought to be now.\"\n\nI look at her curiously as she continues. Though I can anticipate memories (at least, that is the phrase I settled on when I was eleven to describe this apparently unique mental process), there is still something new to be learned from actually experiencing the event which will become the memory. I remember mainly my reactions to this conversation, the fallout from it. Its contents are sublimated away from these anticipations, too fundamental to my identity to actually feature in the memories themselves. When you remember a cherished holiday with your family, or a close relative's funeral, you don't remember specifically what color your eyes were during it. That's separate. This is separate, what I'm about to hear. It has flitted throughout these anticipated memories for my entire life but it has never fully entered them. It is too big for that.\n\nMy eyes are brown.\n\n\"Your father,\" mom says, \"is Father Time.\"\n\nI blink.\n\nMom breaks into a wide smile. \"That was my reaction too. It sounds crazy, right?\"\n\n\"It does,\" I agree, quietly. I don't like to talk much, when I can help it. But this seems to demand response. \"How?\"\n\n***\n\n*I'll do more if anyone wants it.*"
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[WP] Common idioms like "kill two birds with one stone", "beat around the bush", or "raining cats and dogs" aren't metaphors. they all refer to actual everyday events.
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"Beyond the bed of roses, on the other side where the grass was always greener, Mary beat around the bush.\n\n\"There's got to be a bird in here somewhere,\" she said.\n\n\"But I've got a bird in my hand,\" Michael said. \"It's worth at least two birds in that bush.\"\n\n\"That's a bird of a different feather,\" Mary said. \"The ones looking I'm looking for have black and grey feathers. They're geese. Here, can you get a look under this branch?\"\n\n\"This goose chase is getting out of hand. It's wild.\" Michael returned his bird to its cage and bent over backwards for Mary.\n\n\"What do you see? Keep your eyes open.\"\n\n\"I see a nest with an egg in it. A nest egg. A few of them, actually.\"\n\nThey took the eggs out of the nest. \"I hope they really are goose eggs, and not just lame ducks,\" Mary said. \"Let's not put them all in one basket.\"\n\n\"Mm. Safer that way.\"\n\nOn their way back into town, they passed a dog barking on the side of the road. \"That dog's barking up the wrong tree,\" Michael said. \"See? There's a cat in the next tree over.\"\n\n\"Is it scaredy?\"\n\n\"No, it's napping.\"\n\nA low, dark shape flit among the trees. \"Is that what I think it is?\" she said.\n\nMichael squinted. \"It might be. Farmer Jacques had better see this.\" He titled his head back and cried, \"Wolf!\"\n\nFarmer Bill came running over and Mary pointed out the wolf. \n\n\"*Je m'en fous*,\" Farmer Jacques said. \"Pardon my French. I was feeding that dog the other day and it bit my hand.\" He showed them the teethmarks. \"Besides, sometimes dogs eat dogs. It's a dog-eat-dog world.\" He thanked them for the warning and offered them a ride back into town on his wagon. \"*Faisez attention*,\" he said. \"It's going to be a bumpy ride.\"\n\nThat's when it began to rain cats and dogs. The animals hit the ground heavily, with much cracking and splatting of bones and organs. They broke through the wagon's roof and pummeled Jacques' horses. He was forced off the road into the cover of nearby trees.\n\n*****\n\n*sorry, that's all i've got.*\n\n*****\n\nr/TravisTea"
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[WP] Magic was discovered in 1985. It's 1989 now.
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"**Blank's Diary**\n\n*Current date: Year 1989, January 19th.*\n\nLooking back, I couldn't quite tell you about the world prior to magic. It was as if we were looking at the *fundamentals* without seeing the *core structure.* The first **Users** were the most feared. Or what we assume to be the first. It started off sometime *around 1985*, the scientific community was bursting with discovery after discovery. We thought we had conquered everything on Earth and began to ponder the stars. We reached to the *Heavens* with our tiny mechanical rockets. We had even placed several *men on the moon!* Even then, we couldn't comprehend the discovery to come. Some say *God* descended from the *Heavens* and returned to us the power he had prior taken, others blamed the constant scientific progression. It was almost laughable looking back at them arguing over what to call it or who to blame. \n\nIn the first year, *they* had reduced the overall booming population of humans by almost **67%.** That was even before the first man began to fly freely through space. After that we learned to swim amongst the stars. Willing our bodies to amazing speeds and needing almost nothing to sustain ourselves (I believe that someone of expertise explained it to me as when our bodies are thrust through space our magic aura essentially nets all the necessary nutrients and matter that our bodies require). Needless to say, flying was as easy as breathing on Earth. You barely had to think and it would happen. Our spinal cords had fully adapted to their new functions and taken them over as if it were second nature. \n\nThe source and general strength of our magic hasn't been tested to its **full capacity.** We believe it to be held somewhere within the general understanding of physics. Essentially, some people could be capable of sustaining auras and magic to match or overpower a *Supermassive Black Hole*. This was the first true crisis for *humanity*. Criminals and terrorists within the **User** community had begun to band together. They formed the *Guild of the Damned* the name which was probably based off some prior cult scriptures. Or maybe it was of religious origin based on the acronym they use *G.O.D.* Well, one of their \"geniuses\" hatched the most eccentric plan imaginable, *\"Heya bros! Wanna like try and destroy the Sun?\"* With a couple of years practice, they managed to create a miniature black hole. After this they amassed a suicide squad *rigurium* with the intent of placing the miniature within the Sun's close atmosphere. You think the *Governments Intelligence and Security* was bad prior to the magical boom? It only got worse after... I awoke like every other morning, still riling with bad choices from the prior night. Needing nothing more than to extinguish the stress and worry with a cigarette, I slowly began to arise. Silently slipping the closest clothes over my slender body before mustering up the courage to ascend to the roof. I loved that roof. As I made the steady climb, pushing back the metal door, I was greeted with, well, not the usual morning sun. Instead, what was in its place was an almost equally blinding *black emptiness.* I haven't enjoyed a cigarette as much as I did that one. The team from *G.O.D.* had definitely succeed in creating what was known as the *Black Day.* I never quite understood how they managed to call it a *Day.* I was nearly through my cigarette as I began slipping through space-time, rushing to view this *new sun.* I wasn't the first to arrive, nor the last. Around me I heard pop after pop, people slowly filling in to see the mysterious darkness up close. Suddenly, it was as though the darkness began to evaporate off the Sun, pulling away in mass planetary size chunks. Behind me I heard a chuckle, I turned to see who it was. Gazing down at me with a sinister grin was *myself.* He stopped chuckling long enough to say **\"Now YOU are beginning to see our true powers\"** slipping his existence back into *mine.*"
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