Split (1)

train · 199k rows

post_text stringlengths 0 17.5k	post_title stringlengths 8 314	comment_texts listlengths 1 74	num_stories int64 1 74
	[WP] You are an evil overlord who has finally ascended to your throne as ruler of all the world. Turns out it's kind of a shitty job.	[ "\"YOU HAVE ONE NEW ISSUE\" said J-9, the monotone but sweet sounding AI assistant. \n\"Damn it, what now?\" Yelled Doctor Zaltar, as he slowly crawled out of his sleep pod. \"All these damn issues. Laws, personal disputes, ah damn it. \nComputers buzzed as the Dark Lord of Transhumans put on his neuro suit and connected to the interface. \n\"YOU ASSISTANCE IS REQUESTED.\" \n\"Regarding what?\" \n\"YOUR PREVIOUSLY ENACTED WORLDWIDE ABORTION LAWS ARE CAUSING ISSUES WITH NUMEROUS CITIZENS.\" \n\"Issues?\" \n\"CORRECT. THE FOLLOWING CITIZENS WILL BE BORN WITH PREVIOUSLY UNACCOUNTED FOR GENETIC DEFECTS: B000,000,000,606 , B000,000,002,815, B000,071,699, B000,072,111, B000,072,112, B000\" \n\"Okay yes stop.\" yelled the tired young man, holding his head in his hands. He raised to a straight sitting position, letting out a long sigh and continues. \n\"Pull up the numbers on a vertical list, horizontally add birth defect code for both parents, possible birth defect code, expected life span of subject in question and finally a simple yes or no column, with a \"yes\" marking the subjects who will be able to be productive in society in 20 years after birth.\" \nCooling fans turned on as the gigantic server room got filled with their buzzing in a few moments. \n\"LIST COMPLETE. 193,024 SUBJECTS HAVE BEEN LISTED. 457 REQUIRE FURTHER ASSISTANCE AS MY ALGORITHM IS INADEQUATE FOR DETERMINING THE CORRECT ANSWER\" \n\"Jesus Christ...\" \n\"COUNTER SCIENTIFIC PROFANITY DETECTED? ADMINISTERING SHOCK THERAPY IN 3.. 2.. 1..\" \n\"Wait\" \n* Bzzzzzt * \n\"Exemption from law 699-2B: Doctor Maximilian Zaltar\" \n\"17 MATCHES ADDED AS EXEMPTIONS\" \n\"Only add me, local code 001\" \n\"17 MATCHES REMOVED AS EXEMPTION, 1 MATCH ADDED AS EXEMPTION TO LAW 699-2B\" \n\"Now get back to work, pull back the previous work tab.\" \n\"PROCESS COMPLETE\" \n\"Let's see, citizen B000,000,000,606, parents... defects... \" mumbling soon took over as the neuro interface finished connecting itself to Zaltar's brain, he swept through family medical records and determined the faith of his future loyal subject in a mere 4 minutes. \n\"Laws worked great, but the next step in humanity required more. Fixing the errors in the legal system. Even after killing 3 billion people with a nanovirus, you have to realize sooner or later... you can not save everyone, and nothing will bring her back\" played the machine silently, from an old PC from Zaltar's lab, tasked with being an outlet for negative thoughts, but even with its 99.9% success rate, it will still not be enough. One day he will remember. He will remember why and for whom. He will remember eventually, but until that moment comes, this will be his self chosen punishment." ]	1
	[WP] The Led Zeppelin we know is a famous rock band. What few know is that in the multiverse, they will be found together in some form. Whether they're first on the moon or 5th triumvirate of Narnia. You've been going through the multiverses, when you find a combo that even you don't see coming.	[ "As Ben watched the news report, choking on his coffee in surprise, he remembered what he’d been told when he started multiverse jumping: Everything and anything can happen. And when there’s an infinite number of realities to choose from, they often do.\n\nHe still remembered the first alternate earth he’d jumped to. Earth-16A10BG. In that timeline, the NES had never released outside of Japan. While it was still huge there, admittedly, video games were thought of as some strange thing that only the Japanese cared about, like anime or tentacle porn. Or anime tentacle porn. As strange as that was to him at the time, it only got stranger.\n\nFor instance, how about Earth-5212A, where through some miracle cats had become sentient, and the world was on the brink of a century long interspecies war? Or maybe Earth-8U5T30, where catastrophic flooding in 2963 had forced humanity to find a way to live beneath the waves, and the 90s boy band craze had never really died down? Or maybe even Earth-1204AU, where wars between countries were settled by televised giant robot fights? Remember, infinite realities, infinite possibilities.\n\nAnd yet, even with an infinite number of possibilities, somehow there was one constant.\n\nLed Zeppelin.\n\nIt had all started way back on Earth-4791R3, where he’d caught a glimpse of the final race of the 1991 F1 season. He had started giggling when he saw that the drivers in a four way fight for the lead were J. Page, R. Plant, J. P. Jones, and J. Bonham. A quick check with one of the customers of the bar he was watching the race in confirmed that yes, the leader was James Page, the Ferrari driver who hadn’t finished outside the podium all season. And yes, he was being chased by the McLarens of Jean-Paul Jones and Robert Plant, and the Renault of John Bonham. Ben had made his excuses and left the bar, giggling to himself at what he’d just come across. In a world where so many things were different, he’d found the members of Led Zeppelin together as a group, and not as a band? What were the odds of that happening? That had to be a fluke. He thought no more of it.\n\nIt wasn’t until he found that they’d replaced the original cast of Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers on Earth-15AT41, and that they were the researchers responsible for the creation of the ARPANET on Earth-T3RA21 that he started to take notice. And then he started noticing them everywhere.\n\nRobert Plant was responsible for making \"The Room\" on Earth-538A14, and the other three were actors. They were a pro wrestling stable down in Mexico on Earth-0957LU. Ben couldn’t find them for a while on Earth-40R6A35, until he saw a news report confirming that four SAS members that looked just liked them had been killed while on a top secret mission in 1997. This repeated for hundreds of different realities: Led Zeppelin always appeared as a group, but never as a rock band.\n\nBy this point, Ben had seen everything. He knew that Led Zeppelin were going to show up, and it wasn’t going to surprise him. That was until he’d walked into a small South London coffee shop on Earth-1567WP5, and idly started watching the news.\n\nHe put his mug on the table, still trying to cough up the hot coffee. He shook his head. “No way,” he thought to himself. “There is no way this is happening.”\n\n“Hey mate, you alright?”\n\nBen turned. The sole barista standing behind the counter was looking at him with a look of concern. He was fairly young, and not much taller than Ben was. He had a patchy beard and short brown hair, and was holding a mug in his hand.\n\n“Yeah, I’m good.” Ben said. He’d burned his tongue, but other than that he was fine. He turned back to the TV, then to the barista again. “Hey, mind if I ask you something?”\n\n“Sure.”\n\nBen pointed to the screen. “Who are those guys?” he asked.\n\nThe barista grunted. “Oh, those guys? Those guys are the ones who are trying to get laws passed to ban any vaguely offensive song getting radio play,” he said. He gestured vaguely towards the screen. “I know the middle one’s called James… Page, I think? Got no clue what the rest of their names are. Why you askin’?”\n\nBen paused, considering his answer carefully. Somehow he knew that “They’re a famous rock band in the universe I come from and I’ve been following them across the multiverse to see what they’re doing. Oh, and by the way, parallel universes are real,” was not the correct one.\n\n“They just… look like some guys I used to know,” he said, finally. He took another swig of coffee.\n\n“Fair enough.” The bartender said, going back to polishing the mug he was holding. “It’s just a crock of shit, really. Bunch of bastards in suits trying to enforce what sort of music you can make, like it’s going to stop anybody.” He laughed to himself, and sighed.\n\n“Besides, they’re just a bunch of politicians. What would any of them know about making music?”\n\nBen choked on his coffee. Again.\n\n(AN: I like to imagine the same thing’s true for the Ramones, except they’re ALWAYS a rock band and they’re always making the same type of music. No matter what.)" ]	1
	[WP] You're a dog. There's a reason why you don't like the mailman.	[ "Badman was here.\nEven though Patch couldn't see him yet, the kaleidoscope of his scent rushed under the front door, filling the hallway. It was a full minute before the morning sun was partially blocked by Badman's feet. The mail dropped and Patch momentarily struggled with himself, forcing himself not to run towards it, that strange paper invader that felt so good to tear and shred. He knew that would be a baddog thing to do. Mother-hun and Father-Jack had taught Patch about baddog long ago and so he let the letters fall to the floor and simply watched as the myriad of smells invaded his home. \n\nThe door-handle turned. Slowly. Patch heard the springs inside the handle strain as they bunched and stretched unnaturally slow. That was not a good sound, this was a badsound. \n\nPatch whimpered in his indecision, his ears pointed and tail high. Badman hadn't always been badman. Once he had been Newperson. He had replaced Goodmorning! who’s aging scent had slowly become more and more saturated with tiredness until Goodmorning! stopped coming altogether.\n\nPatch was goodboy! and knew not to shout or cry when newperson came to the house. The mailman's morning routine had always been confined to a few brief moments of noise and paper then the sound of receding steps – rubber on concrete, then grass as he cut the corner and went on his way.\nBut this, this slow opening of the front door by a newperson, by a Badman , this was wrong.\nSomething was wrong with newperson. He shouldn't be trying to open the door. The sound of the door opening was joy-happy-father-mother-home-play-touch-eat-walk. This was different. This was outside. Outside coming into Home. Patch's home.\n\nThe doorknob stopped turning and the footsteps left. A pause then the sound of rubber shoes scrambling against the driveway fence before dropping to the back garden. \n\nInside! Badman was inside! The urine stained perimeter Patch had worked so hard to establish and maintain was being flagrantly ignored. He jumped to his feet, a fully formed growl now, vibrating so hard his small body shook . \n\nBadman's face filled the small window of the hallway and before Patch knew what he was doing he began barking, a high, yapping sound edged with fear and anger. The suddenness of Badman's appearance terrified and enraged Patch, so much so a squirt of urine sprayed the carpet under him, still warm from his nap.\n\nBadman shaded his eyes, pressed his big nose against the glass and in a moment locked eyes with Patch. Badman grinned. \nFear, urine, the scent of shame and baddog was all Patch could smell now, and in the epicentre of this Patch raged as loud as he could, hoping Mother-hun or Father-Jack would hear him, knowing they wouldn't, that whatever place them hid from him every day was far from here.\n\nBadman's fingers scraped along the window, nails found purchase, the sound of metal against wood with a grunt, Badman tore the window off the wall, frame and glass and all. \n\n'Hello doggie.' Badman said. Patch knew the words, he was five after all but the tone of them dripped with black intent. \n\nPatch whirled, a small furry dervish of apoplectic anger and desperation, his thin yapping useless as Badman began to fill the square hole he had torn in the side of Patch's home. Badman grunted, lifting himself up and began to crawl in.\n\nPatch ran forwards, jumping as high as he could, his nails scraping at the wall, tearing the wallpaper (baddog!) trying to reach Badman, to bite, to fight. He caught one of Badman's hands, the alien taste of it filling his small mouth as his tiny teeth sank deep into the foul smelling fleshy hand.\n\nThere was a blinding white light that obscured Patch's world, filling his body and thoughts with a pain so large for a moment it blinded him. Patch tasted blood and when the white light faded saw he had been knocked into the corner, Badman stood over him, a metal bar raised, flecked with blood and fur.\n\n'Fucking bastard dog!” Badman examined his blood-soaked hand. Patch's bite was shallow but somehow drew an inordinate amount of blood that gushed down Badman's arm and splattered the hallway floor. \n- Badman stepped closer, and raised the metal bar again. Patch could do nothing, the pain numbed him from head to tail. Death would come now, Patch could smell it, smell it coming from him and for him. He hoped he had been goodboy! enough..\n\nPatch flinched as the bar flew towards his small skull and-\n\nThere was a knock on the front door. The bar froze. Badman froze. Even Patch froze, a tableau of thick scents. \n\n'Patches? Paaaatches?' Oldwomankindtreat was at the door. The smell of the metal bar in Badman's hand combined with the blood and all but drowned out Patch's senses but the voice of Oldwomankindtreat was unmistakable. \nThe knocking continued. Patches tried to call out but the broken ribs dug splinters as he tried to yell, tried to move, tried to do anything.\n\nHe howled instead, a last resort sound, one he had been forbidden to do for as long as he could remember. The mournful sound of it filled the house.\n\n'Oh dear Patches...!' Oldwomankindtreat muttered as she began to fumble in her purse for the spare keys. Badman looked at the door then back to Patches, fear and panic chased each other across his face as he tried to decide what to do. The bar raised, lowered, raised... and badman started towards the front door.\n\nNo! thought Patch. Not her! Oldwomankindtreatwas good and kind. And even though she lived nextdoor and herefore was outside of the permieter her scent was a welcome part of this house. \n\nPatches tried to get back on his feet, struggled to stand and fell back, his hind legs no longer seemed to work. Instead he crawled forwards, towards Badman who now had his back turned to Patches, who waited behind the front door, his fat fingers clentching the metal bar so hard his knuckles were white. \n\nPatch dragged himself silently, slowly, urine and blood streaking the carpet behind him, his little neck twisting to the left and right as if he could swim towards his destination now that running or walking was no longer possible. \n\nA jangle of keys as Oldwomankindtreat dropped them on the front porch. The sequential sound of her slowly stooping to pick them up. \n\nCloser, closer now, Patchfixed his eyes on Badman's leg, specifically an inch above the ankle. He would bite down hard, he would not let go, he would be a GOODBOY! and not let go, even if it meant his death. This home must be protected, this home-\n\nThe door opened, Oldwomankindtreat peered into the gloom of the hallway, the sunny Outside framing her in the doorway. \n\n'Too far, I'm too far!' Patch's heart sank as he struggled forwards. \n\n'Hello? Patches? Linda? Jack?' The door hid Badman almost perfectly and as Oldwomankindtreat stepped through into the house her eyes found Patch, a disfigured ball of broken bone and fur now. \n\n'Patches my God what-' Badman stepped out from behind the door, and raised that hateful metal bar high as Patches whined and-\n\nHands. Hands on Patch. The tapestry of smells and sounds changed, faded, vanished. \n'There boy...there boy, it's alright its-OW!' Patch lashed out, biting and kicking, his legs now suddenly working.\n\n'Ow! Patches! It's ok! Hey boy!' Father-Jack was there, Father-Jack was patting him, stroking him in reassuring voice while Mother-hun stoodover them both.\n'Did he bite you? I told you not to wake him. You know what they say about sleeping dogs.' \n\n'I'm ok, look, flesh wound.' Father Jack continued to stroke Patch as Patch shivered and trembled in then crawled into Father-Jack's arms. Weeping now, the dream fell apart completely, leaving Patch trembling and wet with sweat. \n\n'Its ok boy, its ok...jeeze that must have been some dream kid.' Strong hands carried him, lifted him up and Patch licked Father-Jack's face to be sure it was real. \n\n'Ew dog kisses!' Father Jack shouted, hugging Patch even closer before putting him down. Patch scurried around Father-Jack's legs his nose pressed to the carpet. \n\nNo blood, no urine. Patch hunted around for the scent of Badman, the scent of Oldwomankindtreat, anything...even the metal bar but there was nothing but the smell of home and his parents.\n\nHe had to be sure though. Patch trotted to the front door, sniffed it and whimpered quietly, more to himself than anyone else. Badman's scent was there but it was old, faded.\n\n'What's up boy?' Father-Jack had followed him to the front door. 'You wanna go for a walk?' \nWalk was good Patch thought. Walk was always good. ", "---ee not my best i think.\n\nHe always comes at the same time.\n\nThe days may change, but the time remains constant. So i stand guard. My senses alert, i hear him always before i see him; I shout my curses at him, beg him to pry down the barrier and face me, instead he cowers behind it, pushing his evil ransoms through the tiny gap. If it could just be a little bigger, i could get him, i could pull him through with all my strength and make him pay for what he has done.\n\nThe time passes, my nerves are taut, my heart pounds slower; i must rest, and regain my strength for mistress.\n\n--\n\nI am but a pup, new to my role as guardian; I am small, weak, my roar is laughable. But i am loved. Gifted to the master and mistress, they bestow upon me the great title of Shadow. I do not know the history, but I know i will work my hardest to prove worthy of such a powerful name. They train me, feed me, parade me to their loved ones; they are proud of me. I stand guard while they eat, i keep the castle safe while they sleep. I am a good boy.\n\nIn time the Mistress bore a child. when we met, i realised my purpose was not just to secure the castle; i was to protect the boy. he was small, like i once was, and he was weak. But he was loved. Loved by the Masters, Loved by me. I would Lay by his door every night, some nights he would cry, and i would snuffle to thick bars of his bed; he would feel my breath on his arm and reach out to me, he knew i would keep him safe.\n\nThen He Came.\n\nI did not understand at first. why was the mistress sad, had i let the pesky mice warriors slip past? she so feared the mice warriors, but i had made a pact with them; they were to stay away from the castle, and they had free reign of the outbuilding and chariot stable. The treaty had held for many moons. I was confused, she would hug me still.\n\nIt wasn't until i saw it happen, that i realised my follow. The master would check the great door and there would be the lehtars, i saw his anger rise as one came through, it must have been a ransom, i did not know who these doctors were, I went to him, and i tried to assure him they would not breach these walls. but he just went to the mistress.\n\nThen the boy became sick, they took him away many times, i do not know where, or for how many moons, i longed to be by their side, i knew all the smells out there, the dangers at left and right from so many sides. but they always returned. I was always so happy, i begged them for news of the world, but they had become so distant. so sad. \n\nHe kept returning, kept bringing with him his evil tidings, the master grew so angry, the mistress so sad, she would cry so often now, And the boy.. he smelled wrong, i tried to warn them, but they would not listen, they would send me away, keep me from him. I finally learned to hold my tongue, it was not my place to question the masters on their family. So i kept my silence, and would lay with the boy, as he grew weak.\n\nOne day He returned again, and i tried, i tried to surprise him, oh how he jumped away, but he knew he was safe, i could not damage the great door, no matter i would try. I could keep the castle safe. I kept watch, i stood guard, i even drove the mouse warriors away, just for the mistress. She liked to see me in the great courtyard, protecting the grounds. she would often sit and look out upon the kingdom, for much time staring judging it.. i hoped i was doing a good job. \n\nhe did not visit for a time, and the master and mistress became happier, they would take us all on journeys, and they would tell the boy the stories of all that he would do. we toured the great kingdom so many times. I kept my watch, keeping the other savages away from us. but they were so quiet at times. They still loved.\n\nUntil the last day. Once more he came to the door, was not ready, i was with the boy, and i reached the great door too late. The mistress had opened the Ransom, and dropped to her knees and cried. I ran to her, whispering snuffles of good cheer and omen to her, but she could not stop. She stay there for an eternity, I sat guard, in case He came again, until the master came through the great door. I warned him, shouted of the magic, dragged him to where she sat. He would know what to do.\n\nOne day they took the boy somewhere, and returned without him. We had lost. I had failed in my task. was unworthy of the guardianship. His great magic had somehow slipped past our defences, and now the boy was gone. The castle grew quiet, the mistress withdrawn, sitting always and just staring into the kingdom, searching for him.\n\nHe came again and again. I learned his pattern, i was ready every time, warning the Master and the Mistress, begging they stay away, i would bite at him, i would curse him, but i could do nothing. why would the master not let me go, i could save the Boy i knew it. if i could just kill the Man behind the door. I was chided for my arrogance. the Master would judge. he would open the spells, they would give him such rage, he would curse the Doctors, Curse the house, even the mistress. but the rage would always go.\n\nExcept... one day it did not go. One day the master came home, swaying as if dizzy. I ran to check on him, but he pushed me aside. He checked the door for another message, and there was a fresh one. Delivered that day. It was such a powerful spell. He must have been weak to its touch. \n\nHe was in a rage i had never seen, becoming demonous. his breath smelled of fire and his eyes were those of the underworld. His shouts were roars as he faced off against unseen foes. I guarded his flank. what if spirits were trying to get into him. what if the magic searched for the mistress? \n\noh no the mistress! \n\nshe would have heard the noise, would come down and be taken by these foul spirits. I shouted the master, begged, pleaded for him to find his strength and come to me. It was not enough, he batted me away with a strength i had never known possible. The mistress heard his roars and came to him, shouting and pulling at the demon begging him to release the Master, I knew it would not work\n\nI was too dazed to stop the first blow. It knocked the mistress backward to the stairs, and i found my strength, found the courage of my ancestors, This demon would come into MY castle? take MY master hostage? Not today. As he thudded over to the mistress i bounded through the air, my mighty roar would have woken the dead. i landed between them, stood my ground, This was the master, and yet it was not. i knew my job, and i uttered a low threat the likes of which would drive the strongest of warriors to drop their bladders. The demon wavered, I shouted to him to \"BE GONE\" The demon fell from masters eyes, and the master blinked tears of confusion and sorrow. \n\nhe reached for the mistress, I could not be sure this was a trick. but the mistress had regained her strength. She chided the master for being so foolish, for letting the demons inside. The master left the castle, and returned some days later.\n\nThe demons have not returned, the He still tries to bring them. The master has healed. The mistress tells me i am a good boy. I redeemed myself, but i cannot forget the failure i brought, and the pain of my mistakes. So i keep a watch, though i am old, and my bones ache. i save my strength every day for those few seconds, that He might know that I am here, I am watching him.\n\nHe took The boy, He almost took the Master. But I will not let him take us again.\n" ]	2
Listening to my friend tell a story, and this sentence alone has so much potential.	[WP] This bathroom was not meant for three people and a medium-sized dog..."	[ "A customer just paid his bill without tipping. He told me its because \"there's no goddamn paper towells in the goddamn bathroom...\" or something like that.\nI hate this job. I'm a waiter at a 24 hour waffle bar. Tips are crap and the customers are worse.\nHe paid for his $2.49 double stack and left at 3:20AM. It was only me and the cook on duty. The cook, Hank, is an alright guy if you keep your distance. He keeps a pet rat in his pocket (which isn't really OSHA-approved, but not a lot is at the waffle bar). Hank and I don't really do the small talk thing. I'm pretty sure Hank started his shift drunk and is still a little tipsy. Thats kind of standard practice for 3rd shift at the waffle bar.\n\nI got out a roll of paper towells from the cabinet and get over to the bathroom so the next asshole doesn't have an excuse not to tip me.\nAs I cracked open the plastic dispenser to take out the old roll, a gentleman with a seeing eye dog comes into the bathroom. I mean gentleman, because he was actually wearing a suitcoat with cufflinks and all. He stops to say \"good evening.\" I say \"good morning.\" I'm not sure who was correct.\n\nAnyways, he lets me know that he's here traveling from Bristol, Connecticut to his nephew's hunting lodge in New Brunswick, which doesn't really explain why he's stopping in East-Nowhare to take a piss at a waffle bar or why a blind person would want to go hunting, but I'm rolling with it because he looks like he might tip. As he says this, I notice that the seeing eye dog is actually leading him towards the toillet. This dog is litterally nudging his master's thighs in the direction of the toilet with his nose.\n\nMid-piss, Hank kicks open the door with a slam and spews puke all over the floor. He makes it over to the sink with his hands covering his mouth and gets maybe 30% of his vomit into the sink. My blind gentleman guest doesn't even turn around. I'm almost done replacing the paper towel roll and getting out of here until Hank's rat falls out of his pocket, and the seeing eye dog goes beserk. I mean, like predatory rampage beserk. Before I can blink the rat gets turned into a pile of bloody fur shreds between the eye dog's teeth. \"There's a good boy\" says the gentleman to the dog. He turns towards me (thankfully with his pants zipped up) \"Pooch is not only my seeing eye dog, but also an excellent exterminator up at the lodge.\" I nod. He doesn't see.\n\nAs the bloodcrazed seeing eye dog bouces aroud the room with the rat-remains in his mouth and the blind gentleman straightens his coattails, I pat Hank on the back (who's almost done puking in the sink) and open my mouth to say \"Y'know, This bathroom was not meant for....\n", "... But it was the only room in our house with no windows. The sirens had been going off and the radio said there was a tornado, but this didn't seem like a tornado. The wind was calm as ever as we squeezed around the toilet and tub. We had some snacks, flashlights, hand-crank chargers for our phones, and a radio. The radio stations had gone silent about half an hour ago, several hours into the \"tornado\" warning, which made me think even more so that this wasn't actually a tornado.\n\nMy mother, sister, and I were all crowded into this little bathroom with out German Shepherd, Bane, with my sister and the dog in the tub, and my mom sitting on the toilet. I was laying on the floor, scanning the radio trying to find a signal. Everything I've found so far was just static, on both AM and FM. I turned the dial super slowly this time, hoping I might pick up anything at all.\n\n\"Just give it up and turn it off,\" my sister complained, \"it's not like you're going to find anything. Everyone probably went home or is hiding themselves. There's nothing to worry about.\"\n\n\"She's probably right honey, besides, you're winding the batteries down.\" My mom was surprisingly calm right now, but then I realized she brought a bottle of wine with her, and that it was more than half gone. She hadn't been doing well since my dad left. Not like he was ever around to begin with, but when he finally left she kinda lost it.\n\n\"Yeah I know, but that's just not normal.\" I'm not even sure why I tried to argue with them. \"When have they ever stopped broadcasting the news on the radio, especially during a storm? It's just weird. What if there was a terrorist attack or something?\"\n\n\"Oh you know, you may be right!\" My sister was laying the sarcasm on thicker than anyone ever had before. \"Or it could be aliens, what if they killed everyone else but us! Hey, what if it's the zombie apocalypse. Or what if-\"\n\n\"Shut the fuck up!\" I thought I heard something on the radio, so I stood up and readjusted the antenna, slowly turning the dial back and forth.\n\n\"ZZzZzzZzzzzzzZzzzzZZZZZz-and then-zzzZZZzZZzzzzzzzZ-we need-ZZZZzzzzZzz-if anyone can hear-zzzzzZZZZzzzzZzzZZZ-please!\" The signal was faint, but I was picking up pieces. I hoped I could get the antenna pointed juuuust right and maybe.... \"If anyone can hear us, please help. We're stuck in our basement. Someone, or something, is outside. We can see them through our windows down here. They went into our barn and then in out house, we hear them walking around. They look life people but they're talking in some sort for language that doesn't sound human. We need help! We're at the farmhouse by the lake.\" The lady's voice was hushed and scared. It then cut to a autotronic voice that said the message would repeat.\n\nAt this point my sister was sufficiently freaked out. She stared at me in horror, mouth agape. My mom was on the verge of passing out and probably didn't hear any of it. I opened the door and walked out of the bathroom and Bane ran out.\n\n\"What are you doing stay in here!\" I looked at my sister like she was insane. \"What if that was real, what if there's something... out there?\"\n\n\"Just keep an eye on her,\" I nodded towards our mother, \"and I'll be right back.\"\n\nI walked out into the living room and looked out the windows. I knew there were no tornados, it looked like a beautiful day outside. I headed up to the front of the house and everything looked normal. Just then several big black trucks started pulling in our driveway. We live out in the country. The whole town was kind of out in the country. It was a 20 minute drive into town and nothing but farmland all around, so nearly everyone around here had guns. I pulled out my steamer trunk from my closet and pulled out my shotgun and two pistols, and grabbed several extra clips. I headed back to the bathroom and gave my sister a pistol and an extra clip and sent her to her room with my mom. I didn't know who - or what - these people were, but I was ready for them.\n\n(I usually just write as ideas come to mind, and this one took a different direction than I was thinking, so it ends a little weird, sorry about that.)" ]	2
	[WP] Rhyming words create random magic. Rap artists are the most powerful wizards.	[ "Excerpt from a Time Magazine soft profile of Drake - March 2019\n\nDrake:\"... You know man, its hard trying to keep doing this rap stuff with all the random crap that keeps happening on stage.\"\n\nReporter: \"You say 'Random Crap,' could you elaborate a bit for me.\"\n\nDrake: \"Yeah, you've seen the pictures. Like after one or two verses the stage could either be covered with fillet mignon or it could start raining blood over the audience.\"\n\nReporter: \"Yet you've been able to keep yourself financially afloat despite the lack of recent performances.\"\n\nDrake: \"I gotta say, selling that extra meat from the fillet mignon show brought me a cool $200k.\"\n\nReporter: \"Well done (pun intended), so do you see yourself moving into the sorcery business?\"\n\nDrake: \"No, I'm trying to stay true to my fans and to keep putting out music the way I used _to_. Just the thing is that I gotta keep from rhyming to keep doing what I _do_.\"\n\nEditor's note, upon rhyming \"_do_\" with \"_to_\", the Reporter's chair turned into pistachio pudding.\n\nReporter: \"Wow, thats quite the feat.\" Wiping green goo off of his pants as she stands \"Do you have any control of the kind of magic that you produce?\"\n\nDrake: \"Sorry about that, and no. Whatever happens just sort of happens. All I know is that its for some reason there's a lot stronger effect when I rhyme than when someone else does.\"\n\nReporter: \"I can see how that makes transitioning to the magic industry difficult.\"\n\nDrake: \"Actually no it would be kind of _easy_. I've gotten offers from several governments, but the thought of working for the man makes me kind of _queasy_.\"\n\nEditor's note. This time the rhyme caused the reporter to burst into flames (pistachio pudding and all). Since the incident Drake has taken a vow of silence and the interview was cancled. " ]	1
	[WP] You run an orphanage for children with... special talents. Tell a story of your first, or last day.	[ "\"You have no idea what you are doing do you.\"\n\nIt wasn't a question. It was an eye roll. It was a statement of reality. She was eleven, a street kid, whatever that means. Her hoodie sleeves would have hung twice as long as her arms if they weren't scrunched up at her wrists. Angelica fiddled with the blade of grass in her hand, never looking up to make eye contact. \n\nWe sat on a patch of green, surrounded by black and brown and grey. Smoke lazily hovered over the ashes. I saw what she had done, not in a fit of red hot rage, but in a cold smolder. \n\nHer parents thought she was a demon. \n\nShe was transplanted from inner city LA to my secluded estate in Oregon. I don't have much experience leading, or even interacting with people in general but when I look at the cold, dark hunger in her eyes and wonder if she will ever trust a human being again. I wonder if I am the first person to look at her and see a person.", "I'll tell you the story of my first day as a volunteer at the Orphanage for Special Children. By the name, I thought it was that kind of special. But, when I met the kids, I learnt why the orphanage had that name. \nThe first kid I met was called Kevin. He lacked hair and had scales all over the skin. He showed to have a chameleon-like tongue when catching a fly mid-air when he was crawling on a wall. \nThe second kid was called Heather. She was wearing fire-proof clothing. When I lowered to her height to shake her hand, she kept herself away from me, saying that \"she burns everything she touches\". Heather grabbed a piece of paper and it combusted immediately.\nHeather was always with Natalia, a similar girl with ice-cold breath. Natalia seems to be Heather's sister, and was able to hold her hand without problems. \nThe fourth kid is called Eric. He was a bright boy. His body, except for the eyes, was constantly emitting light. I wonder how he sleeps. \nOther kids that are met are Katherine, the girl with rabbit ears (she hid them with a hood); Johnny, a boy with gills and webbed hands; Trinity, a paralyzed girl with psychic powers; among others. \nThe day, otherwise, was normal: cleaning the places, preparing their lunch, playing with them, squirting water on Johnny's skin... Then, the bald guy on the wheelchair came. He was interested on the kids, claiming he could help them with their special talents.", "The Westerland Home for Special Children, the sign said, arching over the stone gateway. It wasn't a dark place, as far as these places go, open fields, not ominous trees.\n\n\"Hello?\" I called, reaching out to the heavy gate. \"I'm here about the job.\" Before I could touch the gate, an old, rather stooped man - the gatekeeper, I later learned - shambled out, waving me back.\n\n\"Oh, no, sir, don't touch it.\" He thrust a rubber-wrapped key into the keyhole. \"Electrified, you know,\" he said, gesturing me inside. \"The students... nothing but trouble if they get out.\"\n\nI nodded in understanding. \"So who will I be talking to about the job?\" I gazed at the low buildings of the school.\n\n\"The principal.. down the hallway on the right, if I recall correctly. Third door.\" He started back to the gatehouse, then turned as a boy ran for the front door. \"Pigsley here can show you the way. He knows it well enough.\"\n\nPigsley, a stout boy in the seventh grade, stopped in his tracks. \"Yes, sir.\" He waved for me to follow him. As I did so, I took a good look at him. He reminded me of myself at that age. He looked... normal.\n\n\"Headmaster Wren?\" I asked, reading the sign on the door.\n\n\"Come in, come in,\" a feminine voice said. \"Don't mind the sign, hasn't been changed in years.\" I entered.\n\n\"The paper said you needed someone to work with children who have... special talents. I've got experience with them.\" \n\n\"Of course,\" said the speaker, a large woman behind an even larger desk. \"I'm Principal Herman. You would be Mr. Smith?\"\n\n\"Ah, yes,\" I said, embarrassed at my rudeness. \"Sorry.\"\n\n\"Tell me about your experience.\"\n\n\"I've worked with various kinds of troubled students - telepaths, telekinetics, mostly that sort.\"\n\n\"Ah... Mr. Smith, there seems to have been a misunderstanding. The Westerland children are, for the most part, normal. Their talents are along the lines of... let's see...\" she picked up a yellow paper and adjusted her spectacles. \"Room One - housebreaking. Room Two - carjacking. Room Three - assault. Four through Six, pickpockets and petty theives. Oh, and Pigsley, who you've already met. Manslaughter, self defence.\" I gaped in shock.\n\n\"But they seem so normal,\" I cried, sinking into an empty chair. \"And so young!\"\n\n\"That's why they're here. Westerland is a children's correction facility. We pride ourselves in fifty years of success in healthy, happy, and rehabilitated children.\" Principal Herman smiled proudly. \"When you say our children are normal, it's the best compliment you can give us.\"\n\nThe job wasn't what I was expecting. I was accustomed to a different, less violent kind of special. But even on that first day, when I met the boys, I knew that this was where I belonged. \n\nIt was Pigsley that convinced me to stay. Principal Herman had assured me that he was the furthest thing from violent, and would gladly tell me his story if I asked.\n\nIt was a tale that revealed itself in all the boys, a tale as old as poverty itself. An abusive home life, rough friends, trouble in school. Some boys as young as nine were drug addicts - some younger, Pigsley told me, but not here. Violence seeping into every facet of their lives, coercion and threats on a daily basis.\n\n\"It's not the boys that are the problem,\" Principal Herman told me, \"It's the environment they're raised in. They'd be good boys if they had good parents.\"\n\nI was familiar with the self-blame and violent outbursts. These students were less likely to spontaneously burst into flames or tattle on the other kids' thoughts, but were equally unpredictable.\n\n\"I'll take the job, Principal Herman,\" I said finally.\n\n\"Thank you,\" she said, with a wide smile that I would come to associate with this place and with the boys I taught. \"I'm sure you've seen how much we need help.\" But I didn't see them needing help. What I saw was a group of people with the biggest hearts in the world, and boys who would grow into good young men." ]	3
I met my SO through ebay (true story) ppl ask all the time and dont take the answer seriously or ask what i bid. Just would like a different spin on things. Cheers	[WP] Write me the story of how you met your SO by embellishing the lil details so it becomes a tale of epic proporitions	[ "\"3 down, 2 more to go, swing low, be precise, no power all speed and efficiency of motion. You got this, whatever you do don't drop and maybe you'll get home in time to catch the end of Bold and the Beautiful\" i thought to mysef as i super glued an arterial wound shut. \"How'd you manage to get.yourself here?\" I remembered the last 6yrs of guarded self inflicted solitary and the constant need of space, disgusted at what id become, a vicious circle indeed. In a room full of ppl id always feel alone. Bear with me. We'll get there in the end. You, me and a world we chose regardless\n\nI had music, all music. Itd whisper to me to calm me and scream at me when i needed to move. I also had an ideal, a hope, a vision and dream of love wrapped in tragedy called The Crow. Which is how i found myself here. New to most technological advances bar typing in \"xvideos\" into my address bar i was stumped. I needed money and fast. Im good with my hands, balanced, dont mind the sight and scent of blood, do whats natural, do what you do best big fella and knit jumpers for refugee orphans with Dermatis. All i needed was $13.85. Id spotted a Crow book on ebay the week previous. I had the same book when i was 17 but in the wisdom of youth i tore that bad boi up to use the pictures as a collage of teen angst on my bedroom wall. I'd message the seller in the hope of either having it held or knocking the price down so i could spoil myself and get a $1 frozen Grape drink and a quick Rub n Tug at Burger King. Nope. She was firm. She knew she had a sale and i'd do anything to get my hands on it. Even in hindsight i admired her strength.\n\nSo here i was bleeding for a cause and an inner dialogue even the Gilmore Girls on Meth would have trouble keeping up with. I was here to neither help nor hinder these poor lil fucktards. I wanted that book. Working 28hr a day shifts. 9 days a week just like my dad did back in the day. Walking in the snow with no shoes to work in middle of summer. Up hill all the way there. Up hill all the way back. I was on my 10,000,000,000.008th jumper when the 5 Ninja with Rabies raised by a pack of Wolves caught wind of my exploits. And like anything windy. Follow the scent and you'll find what smells like your man eventually. Despatching them was easy. I had a childhood of Van Damme movies, countless hours of Youtube watching UFC and Self taught Armbar techniques, knowing full well if push came to shove.... i'd murder anyone that opposed me (just for the record. My artery cut from earlier, that was from shaving with a rusted out Mustang Fender i found prospecting for Admantium in the floods of Africa)\n\nI placed my bid and waited. Years passed. Then decades. Then centuries. But i was patient. My love of procrastinating has taught me this. The early bird may get the worm. But the the 2nd mouse gets the cheese. I was chilling at my pad just lazing about when the notification came through that i successfully bought the elusive book. I gave it bout a minute and a half before i messaged her to thank her, because as we all know, women love a man who plays hard to get rid of. As i sent the message off. I recieved one from her in return. It was the typical stuff im used to. \"Geez you have buff arms, heyyyy, give me back my purse\" that sort of thing. We start messaging back and forth. The content of which if i had a decent phone at the time with more than a .0004 mexapixel camera and better zoom. Would of been a dick pic. But i digress. Numbers were exchanged and through the hands of fate stories of similarity were told. I called her. No word of a lie. Any pre conceptions i had in life were thrown away in an instant. The laughs we had!!! ( and still do) we talked for hours. I spoke more to her in an hour than i did to everyone in 6 years combined, Beyond community service and my parole officer that is. \n\nThis is where facts become stranger than fiction. We're both from a city called Perth. We both left Perth the same time to a city called Melbourne on the other side.of the country. I moved back to Perth. Was here roughly 7 months before i bought the book. She was selling the book as not having it to.pack...... cause she was moving back to Perth. Make sense? Of course not. But hey. You've come this far may as well read on and hope for the best.\n\nPrt 2 coming soon\n", "I strut through the halls of the institution, searching for my victim. My shining blue eyes clash with my gold liner and green hair. I feel a fire burning in me. I know he has broken my dark little fairy's heart, and I intend to make him pay. I had seen his pictures, and I know that when I see him he will be beautiful. With a sweet smile on my face I waltz past him, waiting for him to turn the corner. I catch up and tap this larger than life lion man on his broad, hunched shoulder. He turns toward me with a shaking lip and a magnificent smile. In his eyes and features I see surprise, fear, lust, and an already blooming flower of love. Our encounter is soon over after a short and distant conversation, and my darling begins to walk away. \"A year of waiting to meet and you dont even hug me?\" My voice is seductive and deep for a lady, it draws everyone to me. He turns back and wraps his arms around my tall and slender frame. I breathe in his warm scent and he smells like an antique store. His embrace is quick but it leaves me feeling like a fire was in my heart for a reason other than this petty revenge plot for the fairy friend. As we part, I look down at his shoes. Converse, with \"improv salesman\" written on the toes. I know this boy will be mine.", "It was the daringest solo climb I’d ever attempted. Called Hell’s Middle Finger, it was a sandstone spire rising 1,400 feet above the Colorado River, sheer for the top two thirds of its height. Luckily for me, until midmorning when the temperature had passed 100 degrees, the shadow of the adjoining Hell’s Index Finger gave me some relief. Finally I moved out of the shadow as the sun overtopped the neighboring summit. I kept my eyes on the rock surface in front of me while my eyes adjusted to the glare. Oddly, the shadow seemed to be moving. Was someone up there? I couldn’t see, looking right into the sun, but I turned and waved. I thought I heard a voice – a woman’s? I nearly lost my grip and turned back to grasp my SLCD. I dropped back down into the shadow so I could see – there was definitely a woman silhouetted on the summit of the Index Finger!\n\n“Do you need help?” I hollered as loudly as I could. \n\nI think I heard, “Yes, I’m stranded! Or maybe “I’m starving!” At any rate she was waving desperately.\n\nWhat to do? I was more than halfway up and I’d been really counting on making this climb. And I wasn’t even positive she was in trouble. But I’m a gallant soul and I didn’t really hesitate. “I’m coming!” I hollered to the waving silhouette. I set a personal record for rappelling down Middle Finger to the saddle, then set about scoping out a route up the Index Finger. As I recall it had only been summited six times. I tried to find some data on my smartphone, but predictably there was no reception out here. The sight of three vultures circling above the Index spurred me into action regardless. \n\nI’ve never climbed so recklessly, or so skillfully! I realized that for the first time I was in the Mountaineers’ Zone where all the skills of generations of climbers flowed into me from a different dimension. I felt I was being prodded on upward by fate. Who was this woman? Was she tied to my future? Just a hundred feet below the top I had to cross a crevasse. I knew I could never jump it, but I could see the woman now. And I could hear her say “Don’t! It’s too far!” But I leapt across, throwing an anchor rope across and it caught as I slammed into the rock face. Ignoring the pain, I pulled myself up onto the ledge. The last hundred feet seemed easy.\n\nShe looked desperate, thin and sunburned and crying – but she was astonishingly beautiful! “So glad you came!” she said, “I can’t believe you made that trip in less than an hour!”\n\n“How did you get here?” I asked. She had no climbing equipment whatsoever!\n\n“I was kidnapped! They dropped me here from a helicopter with only a water bottle. That was two days ago!”\n\n“You must be starving. Here,” and I gave her a drink of my water and a good portion of the tasty picnic lunch I’d planned to celebrate with atop the Middle Finger. She ate ravenously, but shared it with me with looks of gratitude. Her name was Chandra. We got acquainted with a little small talk, but both were worrying about the trip down. \n\nI took extra care rigging the ropes for the descent. I hoisted her onto my back and bound us together with extra lashes. This was going to be the ultimate challenge to my strength, but I got an extra measure of energy and confidence from the warmth and softness of her body pressed close to mine.\n\nI’ll spare you the technical details of that nerve-wracking descent, but I was more and more impressed by the composure of this woman and she showed no signs of fear, constantly whispering words of encouragement in my ear. Finally we reached the base of the pinnacle; I knew that just the other side of a big red boulder there was an easy trail that would take us to my car.\n\nZing! That was a ricochet of a bullet, if I’ve ever heard one (in countless westerns)! We pressed ourselves back behind the boulder. “They must have left someone to watch me!” Chandra wailed, showing the first sign of discomposure. I peeked carefully above the rock and saw a burly man with a semi-automatic, only a hundred feet away. I ducked as he unleased another shot just over my head. \n\n“Send the woman out! We won’t hurt her. I know you’re unarmed, and this isn’t your business. Once I have her, you can go.” \n\n‘What’s this all about?” I asked her, determined to help her whatever the reason.\n\n“They’re going to force me to marry my uncle’s boss! My uncle was trying to raise money to buy them off, but it wasn’t enough. They left me up there to try to weaken my resolve. But what can we do?”\n\n“He’s sure we have no weapon. But I’m a climber. I’m not without resources!”\n\nI heard the ugly man’s footsteps drawing closer. I pulled out a 6-foot bungee cord and a steel spike. Rigging the cord like a slingshot with the spike between my feet, I found a 2-inch rock and waited.\n\nZap! Right between the eyes! Chandra was all over him with a generous selection of my ropes, but he was unconscious. Would be for quite a while I’m sure. We left him half the contents of my water bottle in a dirty plastic bag. Looking about cautiously to make sure no one else was around, we started down the trail. Soon we entered the cool shade of woods, and found ourselves walking along a babbling brook. \n\n“You’re amazing, Chandra! So brave and smart, and beautiful too.”\n\n“You’re even more amazing! How can I ever thank you?”\n\n“Well, if you’re sufficiently recovered, there’s an opera in the city tomorrow night. I’d love for you to accompany me.”\n\n“You got yourself a date!”\n\nThis is a true story. Except although we did meet on a 1,400-foot-high peak, it was a gently rounded hill in the Hudson Highlands. We actually shared the picnic with her aunt and uncle. I made up the part about the kidnapping. I did offer to carry her down on my back, since her shoes didn’t fit and she was getting a blister. She declined, thinking it improper for a first date.\n" ]	3
	[WP] An armed robber demands to speak to the manager after dealing with a rather difficult cashier	[ "\"You what? YOU WHAT?!\", I said to the cashier. Is this actually happening?\n\n\"Sir\", she said in a monotonous voice, her face surprisingly calm under the circumstances, \"I can give you the cash, but these Mentos are limited edition. We aren't allowed to give them without proper payment. And only one per client.\"\n\n\"Do you realize I have a GUN?! I CAN BLOW YOUR FUCKING BRAINS OUT.\"\n\n\"Sir. I can give you the money, but these Mentos are ....\", she continued repeating, apathetic to the gun I'm flailing around as a can of Pringles.\n\n\"You... you're serious?\"\n\nIt's hard to admit, but I'm in shock. I mean, this is a little store in the middle of nowhere, and this girl is perfectly willing to give me the money in the register, but not the limited edition Mentos? Really?\n\nSure, you could argue that I'm as much of an idiot for insisting on getting the Mentos too, but come on, it's a matter of respect. Not to me, but to the Beretta gun I have in my right hand. It's loaded. The safety is off. And this girl is chewing gum and looking at me like I'm the most boring person on Earth.\n\n\"Look, let's make this easy, lady. You give me the money, AND the Mentos, and no one gets hurt. You're lucky there's no one else here, or I would have shot you already. Now hurry up!\"\n\n\"Sir. I can give you the cash, but -\"\n\n\"NO, NO, NO. I WANT THOSE MENTOS, YOU HEAR? THE M.E.N.T.O.S.\"\n\n\"But sir, these are limited edition. We aren't allowed to -\"\n\n\"WHY DO YOU KEEP SAYING THAT. AHHHHH!\"\n\n\"Sir, I can offer you some complimentary mints with your order, if you want. But not the Mentos.\"\n\nI cover my face with my hands. Maybe she's mentally ill. God, maybe I am.\n\n\"NO, I WAN- No. I want those Mentos. Please. I'm asking you properly now.\"\n\n\"Sir, I can give you the ca-\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, you can give me the cash, but not the 'limited edition Mentos'. I get it, Jesus.\"\n\n\"Yes, sir.\"\n\nI think for a minute. \n\n\"What if...\", I say, mostly to myself. I have an idea.\n\n\"Okay,\", I squint at the name tag on her shirt, \"Linda. I want you to give me the money. Only the money.\"\n\n\"Sure. Our policy is that, in case of robbery, to give out our money without resistance.\"\n\n\"Yeah, whatever. Hand it over, come on.\"\n\nShe takes out the cash methodically and gives it to me in a plastic bag. Quick and efficient.\n\nI smirk and take a ten dollar bill from the bag.\n\n\"I'd like some LIMITED EDITION MENTOS! ...Please?\"\n\nShe takes the bill and hands me one packet of Mentos. They probably suck, but who cares, I got them. I proved my point. What point? Doesn't matter.\n\n----\n\nI try one of the Mentos - It sucks, obviously.\n\nIn any case, I realize I've spent way too long here, though no sign of police so far. Good.\n\nAnd yet, just like that, sirens blast outside. I turn to leave, and start running towards the door when I hear her again.\n\n\"Sir, your change.\"\n\nI feel compelled to shoot her only because of how annoying she is, but I need to get out.\n\n...But the door isn't opening. It's one of those sliding doors, but why... \n\nOh.\n\n\"LINDA OPEN THE DOOR QUICKLY\"\n\n\"Sir, your change\" \n\n\"LINDA FOR GOD'S SAKE WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME\"\n\n\"You forgot your change, sir.\"\n\nSuddenly, a kick from the back of the store is heard, and policemen rush in, telling me to drop to the floor.\n\n\"GOD DAMMIT IT LINDA GOD DAMMIT WHY\"\n\n\"DROP THE GUN! HANDS IN THE AIR!\", yells one one of the policemen, \"ON THE FLOOR NOW!\"\n\n\"Sir, your change.\"\n\n\"GOD DAMN YOU LINDA, GOD DAMN YOU AND THOSE STUPID MENTOS\"\n\n----\n\nMore stories: [/r/TitanStories](https://www.reddit.com/r/TitanStories) - [Titan Stories](https://stories.titan.red/) - [Newsletter](https://tinyletter.com/titanred)" ]	1
	[WP] After years of searching, you have found an ancient temple that is said to hold the meaning of life. But when you enter, all you find is a note with a phone number labeled "Call For a Good Time".	[ "I stood staring, a blank expression soon replaced with one of anger, fury, rage. I screamed and threw my GPS against the wall. All this time. All the money. All that I had sacrificed to be here. To find out the truth, the answer. The only answer that mattered and this is what I was privy to, common graffiti? “God Dammit”, I yelled to the heavens and fell to my knees. \n\nAfter a minute just kneeling there I looked around again, maybe this person left something behind. Some clue, just something to make this trip worthwhile. Nothing. Just sandstone blocks and red spray paint. I ran my hand across my face, drawing the tears away. I tried to compose myself and slowly pulled myself to my feet. I’d have to call James, he wasn’t going to like this, not one bit. If I had made sacrifices then he had given up everything for this one chance, the chance that I had pressured him was the one.\n\nI pulled out my phone. A series of cracks riddled its screen, seemed quite fitting for the failure that I had become. I started to type in James’ number when my eyes fell back to that red paint. Curiosity suddenly snapped at me like a rabid dog, if this temple held the secret of life. Perhaps whoever left this note would know something about it. I had a shot, a slim shot judging from the type of person who would leave this graffiti in such a sacred place. But hey, it was a shot. I punched in the numbers.\n\nImmediately I was taken aback, this was not my normal dial tone. Instead I was greeted with a dull tone. Great, I thought, it’s a disconnected number. There goes my one shot. The phone automatically hung up. I checked it again, I definitely had signal. Anger again, I flung the phone. It landed with a soft thud in the sand. I fell to the floor and sat in the sand, looking up at the walls. \n\nRegaining my composure once more, I crawled to my phone and began to ring James. That’s when it caught my eye, that crimson paint. That graffiti. I dropped the phone again, my eyes and mouth wide in awe. For there, where a looters disrespect had been was a new message. “Your life is what you make of it”. \n\nGod dammit.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Your SO tells you to close your eyes, when you open them you are someone else, somewhere else.	[ "She looked at me, tears falling down her face. Her seashell necklace glinted in the faint light. \"You can't die. Not here, not now.\"\n\nI tried to hug her, but I couldn't get up from the pain. I had a grave wound on my side and lost too much blood. I tried to speak, but she kissed me gently before I could say a word. \n\n\"I love you, and I will do the only thing I have power left to do. Always... always remember me.\"\n\nShe started whispering words I did not recognize. I looked up to see the orc come into view, raising its axe above her head. I started panicking and signaled for her to look up.\n\n\"It'll be okay. Close your eyes, love.\"\n\nI saw the orc bring the blade down, just as she covered my eyes with her hand. I wanted to scream, but felt my consciousness slipping away...\n\n---\n\nShe laid in the grass, basking in the sunlight. It was warm here, very warm.\n\n\"Delilah? Are you there?\" His strong voice echoed in the forest. She couldn't stay here forever. She needed to get back.\n\n\"I'm here, John,\" she answered, getting up and walking toward the man. He kissed her, and they made for the village together. \n\nHer seashell necklace glinted in the faint light." ]	1
	[WP] You are immortal in body, but your mind has aged beyond recovery and you now have Alzheimers. To you, every day is a new adventure, but to everyone else, you're a fickle and unpredictable deity.	[ "“This is Huetz, I’m writing this to myself because I’ve noticed” – The writing was suspended when a strong noise came from outside the cave. The creature got on his feet in less than a second, his fist was no longer grasping the pen but a sharp sword. From the shadows, a mid-twenties man showed.\n\n“Mr. H! You’re awake”\n\n“Why are you disturbing my peace?”\n\n“Oh come on, leave the sword and grab your staff, we’re going to be late”\n\nConfused, Huetz dropped the sword and headed to the cave’s exit, while he was walking, he examined the young face in front of him. Huetz didn’t remembered the name, but he was sure that this young human has being nice to him for a long time. When he finally arrived to the cave’s mouth the sunlight struck his pupils and triggered a flashback.\n\n-The fire was reflecting everywhere creating an orange horizon, the sky was covered by iron arrows, and black smoke swirled all around. The trumpets sounded loud and proudly, Huetz was flying through the hostile field, the arrows where like rain drops landing on his coated skin, every gray soldier cheered up and fought harder when he was around. Huetz finally landed on his knees in front of a dying warrior, he took his gray armor off and put his hands on the victim’s chest, the wound began to close-\n\n“Mr. H!, come on, we’re going to be late!” – Said the young man handing him a wooden staff – “Well at least you’re day dreaming again sir, and what is that paper for?”\n\nHuetz was still holding his unfinished diary first entry, he wanted to write about the flashback, but this energetic young man was really pushy to take him wherever they were heading.\n\n“I didn’t knew where to look for you Mr. H, until I remembered that story you told me the other day about how humid places helps your mind to stay calm and all that”\n\n“Mind your step”\n\n“Sure Mr. H, even if we’re walking on a flat field” – The young man said sounding his head – “Anyways, this barbers have been all around the globe and they’re known to cure mind diseases, they call themselves physicians Mr. H, and I have a really good hunch this time”\n\nAs they got closer to the town, the people recognized the unique resemblance of their legendary icon and the cheers and chants started over the streets. Gray banners and flags were proudly flying.\n\nLooking at the multitude, Huetz got nervous and hid the paper. When he introduced his hand into his pocket he felt a few more sheets, he managed to unfold them finding exactly the same scripture “This is Huetz, I’m writing this to myself because I’ve noticed…”", "Today was a rotten day. The cheery nurse beside me said otherwise, but it was rude, awakening. It was an \"in your face\" day, one like the other day. It was a corpse on a bus ride, it was an mouse turd in your rice bowl, it was a splinter in your toe day. \n\n\nIt was just like yesterday. That was pretty terrible. Terrible? \n\n\n\"Gerry, it's time for you to be walking now, let's get up.\"\n\nI pulled the trousers in with ease, buttoned up my shirt as I always did? I figured that red would impress Lilian, the old tart down the street, but the nurse said I couldn't. Damn that nurse. \n\n\nWalking outside was pleasant, reminded me something of the day that I fell in love with Taylor. Or was it Tanya? Anyways, we were passing Lilian when my nurse told me something else. \"It's my daughters birthday today.\"\n\n\n\"I have a granddaughter that's also turning another year pretty soon. What a coincidence!\" I chuckled. Such small things in life.\n\n\nThe nurse paused. \"You remembered!\" Her face was bright with happiness.\n\n\nI frowned, furrowing my brows. She stopped clapping for a moment. \"Oh don't worry Gerry, you'll keep it up. I'm just glad you remembered something!\" Taking my arm, she held my fingers.\n\n\nThe nurse. Lilian? My granddaughter's name is Lilian. \"Lilian's birthday?\" \n\n\nMy daughter nodded, bringing me back to the home. I shivered with fear. Everything felt cold.\n\n\nIt was a rotten day.", "\"I don't understand,\" the acolyte complained. \"If the God cannot form new memories, how does he continue to function? Surely the needs of the world change over time.\" \n\n\"The God cannot form new long term memories,\" the Master reprimanded, thwacking her student on the head with her cane. \"Come with me and watch, and perhaps this time you will actually see.\"\n\nThe two passed up the temple's steps, work with grooves where the feet of a thousand thousand Masters and acolytes before them had walked, and through the great center arch verdant with most. As they drew closer to the inner sanctum, the power of the God became thicker, and the life around them became more vibrant. The Master's bent back straightened a touch, and she leaned less heavily on her cane, smelling the familiar smell of the air around the God that was filled with the breath of life. \n\nIt was the acolyte's third time seeing the God in person. He looked the same as ever, a young man of unnatural beauty, with dark hair and green eyes. He was meditating on a stone besides the creek that flowed through the temple, same as always. The God wore little clothing, only a loincloth that was starting to look worn out. \n\n\"Looks like you'll need a new undergarment soon, O God,\" the Master said. \n\nThe acolyte was somewhat scandalized but wisely held his tongue. \n\nSlowly the God opened his eyes, and a smile formed on his face, radiant as the dawn. The acolyte didn't notice, but a small cut on his thumb immediately healed itself. \n\n\"Ah, the Temple Master. Remind me, which are you?\"\n\n\"The ten thousandth Master of the second lineage, O God. Sad to say, the next Master is here to meet you and learn something, hopefully before I die.\"\n\nThe God and Master chuckled together as the Acolyte blushed. \n\n\"Go on, ask him yourself. I know you want to,\" the Master ordered, tapping her foot impatiently.\n\nThe Acolyte gathered his words carefully. \"O God, if you can no longer remember, how do you continue to protect the world? How do you remember what to do?\"\n\nThe God's smile takes on a tinge of sadness. \"That is all I remember. Lost to me are who I am, how I got here, how the world got to the state that it needs my constant effort to sustain its life. The true nature of my power, and why I am the way I am. All I know is that the Temple Masters keep my memories for me, and that I keep the World. I imagine I used to ask after my lost memories, but today, I can't remember a single thing except that I am the God who must maintain the world, and you are the temple keepers. I am clever enough to figure out that this means I will remember nothing new. Not you, not whatever I ask you. Am I cursed? Perhaps, but it is good enough here. I am fine with this moment, and if the next comes the same, so will I remain here. For all time, if I must.\" With that, the God closes his eyes and resumes a quiet meditation. \n\nThe acolyte's eyes fill with tears as he walks away beside the Master. \"He really doesn't know... if only we could tell him, and he could remember all that he has done for us!\"\n\nThe Master sighs. \"I felt the same when I was your age. I told him his story over and over, hoping something would stick. How three ages ago he was born the Chosen One, destined to overthrow the Thousand Year Darkness. How his companions fell around him, how in the end he slew the Tyrant and stole his Heart. How he poured his life's power over the world to heal it, to make the world grow green once more. And how as his mind began to fade, he established our Order to look over him, as he dedicated his eternity to humanity, and himself to our care. That is why we must protect him, for he is innocent as a child, selfless as a mother, and mighty as a God.\"\n\nThe acolyte vowed that as the ten thousand and first Master, he would protect the God with all his strength.", "\"What's this?\" the old man asked. He eyed the mug of dark liquid suspiciously.\n\n\"It's called coffee, Gramps,\" the kid said.\n\n\"Never heard of it,\" the old man said. \"Where the Hell is my mead, boy?\"\n\nThe kid sighed. \"Just try it, Gramps, please. I know you'll like it.\"\n\nThe old man took a cautious, tentative sip, and then his eyes brightened and he smacked his lips appreciatively. \"This is good stuff. Fit for a God.\" He chuckled, and downed the rest of the mug in a single gulp.\n\nThe kid smiled politely, as if it wasn't the first time he'd heard that line. \"Carefully now, Gramps...\"\n\nBut the old man slammed the empty mug down on the table with a force that shook the room, and the kid winced. \"Bring me another mug of this nectar, boy. It makes me feel alive.\"\n\n\"Right-oh, Gramps.\"\n\n\"And where's that mother of yours?\"\n\n\"She, er, she just popped out to the shop,\" the kid said.\n\nBut the old man caught the hesitation, and his cloudy blue eyes cleared and fixed the kid with an electric gaze. \"Don't lie to me, boy,\" he said softly. \"Where'd she go?\"\n\n\"She'll be back soon,\" the kid said. He took a step backwards towards the kitchen. \"I'll just grab you that coffee-\"\n\nThe old man waved his hand, and froze the kid in mid-step. Only the boy's eyes were able to move, and they darted nervously towards the door. The old man struggled out of his armchair, and hobbled over to the kid. As he walked, he made heavy use of a cane, and his breath came out in a rattle. He touched a mottled hand to the kid's brow, and his face took on a distant look.\n\nThe old man's mouth began to twitch, quietly muttering words under his breath. \"You're my grandson... you look after me because I'm ill... no, no, that can't be right. Tell me about your mother, the Goddess... ah, there she is... wait-\"\n\nThe wheezing breaths became louder and more agitated. \"What is she doing... NO!\"\n\nThe old man staggered back. Whatever force had frozen the kid was released, and the boy jumped forwards to steady the old man. \"It's OK, Gramps. Here, let me help you back to your chair. There you go.\"\n\n\"My daughter,\" the old man said. \"My kingdom. My throne. She stole it...\" A note of anger had crept into his voice, and sparks began to crackle in the air around him. \n\n\"No, no,\" the boy said quickly. \"Ma's just looking after it for you. Just until you get better, Gramps. We all want you back.\"\n\n\"Am I getting better?\" the old man said. \n\n\"Oh, yes,\" the kid said. \"Definitely. Here, turn the TV on and I'll fetch another coffee for you.\"\n\nThe news flashed onto the TV screen, the volume several notches too loud. The breaking news banner at the bottom of the screen announced that a huge earthquake had struck the west coast just a few minutes earlier, and a weatherman was discussing the unexpected buildup of a thunderstorm of unusual strength over the midwest.\n\nThe kid came back with a steaming mug, and placed it down next to the old man. \"Here you go, Gramps.\"\n\nThe old man eyed the dark liquid suspiciously. \"What's this?\" he asked.\n\n---\n\nFind more of my stories at /r/jd_rallage" ]	4
	[WP] The year is 2020. The first astronauts have landed on Mars. They find a cave with a single human skeleton and four words written on the wall (We Are Not Alone).	[ "''Cherokee-1, this is Haymaker, we've found something that may be catalogged as a problem, over'' says US Commander William Barostiwszky\n\n''Huh? Could you be more clear, Haymaker?'' responds the radio operator, removes the headset and gets the attention of a superior ''Sir, the gorund team may have found something...here'' ''Uuuuh, Cherokee, we have a skeleton, shit, a single...uh...human skeleton, ov-'' ''Chto eto? Yob tvoyu mat! William, come here!'' calls Cosmonaut Commander Zhardakov, ''What happened, Dima?'' ''Here...it says We Are Not Alone'' the Russian points with his gloved index finger at the bloody marks in the wall of the cave ''Shit'' William says as the cosmonaut asks by radio ''Command, this is Zhardakov, do you have any recorded human trips to Mars before us? Over'' ''Uh...that's a negative, Commander, over'' ''Engineer Jacobs, can you radio the ship and tell the Doc to come here ASAP?'' ''Sure thing, sir...'' responds ''Doctor, come to the coordinate I'm sending to your GPS, ASAP'' 5 minutes pass.\n\nDoctor cosmonaut Marya Morkova arrives in a hurry, ''Yes, Commander, I'm here! Who's injured?'' ''Deep breaths, Marya, I need your opinion on something'' ''Da, Commander'' Comm. William shows the girl the skeleton ''Oooh pizdec'' she mutter under her breath as she approaches the cadaver, ''There's still some skin around the bones...tak, tak tak, ah, yes, posmotri, here the neck has been sliced here, the person was bleeding out, you can see the trail of brownish matter on the floor...I wonder what could've done this'' William isn't too pleased with the discoveries, a sliced throat, a bleeding human on a planet no cosmonaut or astronaut has ever stepped on, this could only mean one thing: possible contact." ]	1
	[WP] Magic is in the process of being rediscovered. You have just found a protection enchantment that sounds suspiciously like, "Hold My Beer."	[ "\"Fulton? Hey Fulton, come over here.\"\n\n\"What's up? I'm reading.\"\n\n\"Smitty's on the ledge.\"\n\n\"Hm?\"\n\n\"I said: Smitty stands on the ledge. That building on the other side of the street. Third floor. He is saying something. Come over and have a look.\"\n\n\"What's this idiot doing? He will kill himself.\"\n\n\"Smitty, are you drunk?\"\n\n\"He hasn't heard you.\"\n\n\"Or he can't. This silly hat is definitely not helping.\"\n\n\"Six days, and not a single word from him, and now he is pulling this stunt.\"\n\n\"He's actually been weird at least a month or so. Told me, he is a magican now.\"\n\n\"That explains the hat.\"\n\n\"Smitty, the police is coming. Come over here and have a drink with us. We sort things out.\"\n\n\"Let's go over, before the situation starts to get out of control.\"\n\n----\n\n\"Hold my beer.\"\n\n\"Smitty, we would love to hold your beer. We actually have a fine, cold one here for you. You just have to come down to us. We are all eager to hold your beer.\"\n\n\"I'm protected.\"\n\n\"You are drunk.\"\n\n\"No, I'm protected. By the higher forces of spirtual wisedom.\"\n\n\"He is mad. Completly.\n\nOfficer, he had a rough time. See, his wife, it's a little bit complicated. But he is really a good guy. Maybe mostly good, with some tiny little spots, that tend a little bit into grey or even dark grey, if you know, what I mean.\n\nI mean, c'mon, we all had done something stupid.\"\n\n\"Yes, we all have done something stupid. One time, maybe two. This is the, what, sixth time, this month, we come together for a 'magical celebration'. The 'great wall of fire', he started last week, is still ingrained into my retina.\"\n\n\"Hold my beer.\"\n\n\"Oh, shut up, you moron, and come down.\"\n\n\"Officer, I understand, that your departement is understuffed, and that fast and easy solutions are preferred at the moment. But would you mind to put that gun away for a moment, and let Fulton and me talk to him face to face? Give us five minutes, maybe ten.\"\n\n\"You have three, and I'm already counting.\"\n\n----\n\n\"Smitty, he's really angry this time. I mean, you have developed a tendency, which makes it really difficult, to cope with. See, not everyone belives in magic. Especially not in magic spells containing a reference to 'beer'. Give them credit, and now: Come down.\"\n\n\"Those who don't know, should not hold.\"\n\n\"Hold?\"\n\n\"Hold my beer.\"\n\n\"I do. Get in, and I'm holding what ever you want. Well, there may be exceptions, but I think, you get the point.\"\n\n\"Hold my beer.\"\n\n\"Smitty, I'm slowly drifting towards the Chief's solution, let him declare you a public danger and shoot you.\"\n\n\"Hold my beer.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course, and then?\"\n\n\"I'm jumping. I'm protected.\"\n\n\"No, Smitty, you are in a very fragile state of mind. You come back in here immediately.\n\nHe jumped. For christ sake, this old fart really jumped.\n\nSmitty! Smitty, are you alright. I can't believe this.\"\n\n----\n\nNOTE: I'm still working on it. Suggestions are welcome.", "The demon horde appeared earlier that night. The first explosions happened in the newly established \"Occult\" faculty building. The Linguistics and Chemistry professors were conducting experiments with various ancient languages and chemical compounds. It didn't take much to realize that they probably didn't make it through the emergence of the numerous creatures that now swarmed across the campus. The smallest of which was at least the size of a large body-builder.\n\nThe frat house was jumping with that night's party. Beer was flowing, girls were stripping, guys were chugging. When they saw the flames coming from the new building across campus, they cheered louder. People grabbing each other and dancing to the thundering beat that came from the massive speakers set up on stage behind the live band.\n\nThe music stopped abruptly. The first wave of demons had showed up through the walkways and streets to the faculty buildings. One young man, unaware that the music had stopped, was still waving his arms around, spilling his drink, yelling \"WOOO!\" It took him a few seconds, but Ricky, the new arrival, a gifted boy from Alabama, realized everyone was standing still.\n\n\"'Ey! 'Ey, wass goin' ohn? Wass evrywun lookin' at?\" he said, annoyed at the lack of partying. He heard what can only be described as the screams of a thousand tortured souls somehow pushed into one sound. Turning, he saw the approaching army. Horrors beyond the nightmares of the most goth person on campus. Horns protruding from heads, elbows, knees. Tentacles everywhere. Boils and weeping sores on the slower ones. Spines and scales on the faster ones. All held vicious looking weapons and grins that told of the worst intentions. Ricky, being the brave soul he is, turned to the nearest blank faced bro and said, \"'EY! 'EY JIMMY!\"\n\nJimmy closed his eyes and shook his head vigorously before looking at Ricky with abject terror in his eyes, \"Ye...yeah, Ricky?\"\n\nRicky grinned, \"Ho- mah bir...\" Jimmy took the beverage, and Ricky charged into the oncoming horde. When he got to the line of creatures, one of them laughed maniacally with a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. It swung its evil looking sword back and brought it forward with all the force of its bulging muscular body. Ricky flew back all the way to the supports holding up the stage, crashing with a sound of warping metal and shattering wood. Everyone watched it happen and looked in shock at the crater he left in the stage. Then he got back up. A slight blue light shimmered around him as he reached over to Jimmy. He grabbed his beer, chugged half of it and handed it back saying, \"WOOO! HO- MAH BIR JIMMY!\" The light that shimmered around him seemed to grow stronger. He pounded his feet, shooting back into the fray.\n\nThe demon who hit him lost its grin.", "“Shit, that ain’t so hard.”\n\n“Joe, don’t,” Claire said immediately.\n\nHer husband shook his head. As stubbornly as always. “I got a damn rope in the shed. Toss it over the maple out near the creek, and that’ll be the swing.”\n\n“I believe you.”\n\nToo late, she realized. He was on his feet. “It ain’t that hard baby.”\n\n“I completely believe you,” she said, standing. Trying to think of something that would dissuade him. Not that she ever had.\n\n“No, come on.” He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her into motion.\n\nOutside, Joe ‘walked’ with her to the backyard shed eagerly. He disappeared inside for a few moments, and emerged with an old rope in hand. Then he pulled her to the edge of the backyard, to the creek that bordered the property. Beyond it was just forest, dead land that was of no value to anyone who didn’t like hunting, trapping, camping, and other totally un-city-like activities.\n\nWhich was Joe to a T.\n\nHe took a long swig of beer, then started trying to toss the rope over a handy branch. A big one, that stretched out across the creek. Claire looked at the gully the creek had carved out of the ground. It was a long way down when he fell.\n\n“Really honey, I believe you can do it.”\n\n“No you don’t.”\n\n“I do.”\n\nThe rope made it over the branch, and he went forward to grasp it. One handed he started knotting it around itself. It was one of the few useful ‘stupid’ skills he’d learned over the years. “You think I’m a fuckup,” he said as he manipulated the cordage.\n\n“I think you’re still annoyed with me for taking that job with the accountant.”\n\nScowling, he pulled the knot tight and gave her a quick eye flick. Equal measures guilt and shame flickered through his glance before he looked back at the rope. “I told you I’d figure something out. Get a second gig somewhere.”\n\n“When?” she asked. One way or another, this was going to end poorly. Maybe if she could distracting him with a simple yelling match no one would get hurt. Well, enough to end up in a cast, or worse, anyway.\n\n“I can take care of you,” he said as he started on a second knot. Which was something; maybe two would hold. “Ain’t I always done that?”\n\n“You’re a good man,” Claire said. Which was half true, at least. Once he had been. But failure, and pride, had driven a dark streak a mile wide through him. Life putting him on his knees was the worst thing that’d ever happened to him. With a task, and a clear path to completing it successfully, Joe was one of the most determined, hardest workers she’d ever known.\n\nUnfortunately, hard work wasn’t enough anymore. Not when the jobs didn’t pay, however much effort you put in. And the bank, the stores; they only wanted money. Not effort, not honesty, certainly not character. Just cash.\n\n“We were going to lose the house,” she said, already bracing herself. A bad fall that left him bedridden was the last thing they needed. And it would probably destroy him, in more ways than just the physical injury. “I had to do something.”\n\nFor a moment, she thought it had worked. That he was going to redirect everything toward her. Away from the creek, the rope, and disaster. It wouldn’t be the first time in the past year he’d slapped her around some. But despite his flaws, his terrible flaws, she remembered loving him. And could see how she could again. Bruises healed, for free even. Bones, his or hers or both, didn’t.\n\nJoe glared at her, then shook his head stubbornly. “We weren’t gonna lose the damn house.”\n\n“The final notice came,” she said, raising her voice. Trying to provoke him. He was almost done with the knots. “Sarah-Ann and Bobby, they got foreclosed on two months ago. Bank had them on the curb by six that evening.”\n\n“That jackass you work for, he’s trying to make a move.”\n\n“William’s just my boss,” she said, wincing. This was not the first time Joe had brought that up. It was one of his favorite avenues of attack when he talked about how he wanted her to quit the clerk position she’d taken.\n\n“I see how he looks at you.”\n\n“He’s married.”\n\n“So?”\n\n“So there’s nothing there. I’m married too,” she snapped, still hoping to draw him down on her. “To you. Grow up Joseph.”\n\n“Hold my beer,” he said, thrusting the can at her.\n\n“No.”\n\n“Hold it,” he repeated.\n\nShe took the can, then shook her whole arm to make the contents slosh out into his face. Just for a second she thought she’d finally managed it, and he was going to forget about the swing stunt they’d just seen on the TV. Which would hurt … but she did love him still. Maybe not as much as she had, but … still.\n\nBlinking cheap alcohol out of his eyes, he raised his hand, and she braced herself. But he just wiped his face, then turned his back on her. With a running start, he flung himself out across the gully. It wasn’t graceful, as he nearly missed getting his foot into the loop he’d made by knotting the rope off.\n\nBiting her lip, she watched as he swung out across the creek. The tree line on the far side represented any number of obstacles he could smash into. And a nice sized pecan tree was up to the task of dealing with Joe as her husband smashed into it at a pretty good pace.\n\nWhen he hit, his fingers came off the rope. But his foot stayed in the loop, and he swung back this way dangling upside down. Claire winced as she saw his body torqueing unnaturally, then screamed a little when his head smacked the top edge of the gully. That knocked Joe’s foot out of the loop, and he tumbled across the rocky ground like a ragdoll.\n\n“Joe!” she cried, running toward him. The rope was swinging back and forth nearby when she reached him. He rolled over as she arrived and fell to her knees. “Don’t move. I’ll call an ambulance.”\n\n“Don’t need no damn ambulance,” he muttered, though he was wheezing.\n\n“You’re—” she started to say, but the words died in her throat when she saw there was no blood. No bruises, no nothing. Tentatively she reached for his head. He caught her wrist before she could touch him.\n\n“Let me check you.”\n\n“I’m fine,” he grumbled. Angry, and embarrassed.\n\n“Let me see.”\n\n“So see.”\n\n“Let go,” she insisted, twisting her hand in his; trying to break loose.\n\nFor a moment she thought he might do that, only to hit her. But he dropped his eyes, and opened his fingers. She touched his head carefully, bracing herself to feel movement where there should be — far too thick — skull. There was nothing though; just skin and bone. Unbroken skin at that.\n\n“You lucky son-of-a-bitch,” she said angrily.\n\n“Told you, I’m fine.”\n\n“By the grace of God!” she snapped, making to rise. He came to his feet faster, pulling her up with him. Before she could catch up with what he was doing, he was dragging her toward the shed again. She glanced down, but he was moving without a limp. So, apparently, only his pride had been hurt. How made no sense, but at least there was no hospital stay in his future. “Let go of me.”\n\n“Gonna show you something else,” he said, still hauling her along with a grip of iron.\n\n“Let go!”\n\n“No.”\n\nShe was still trying to break free when they got back to the shed. He shoved her inside, and stood blocking the doorway. Recovering her balance, she turned to glare at him. “Okay, now what hotshot?”\n\n“Look in the bag there.”\n\nClaire blinked at him. “What?”\n\n“On the workbench,” he said, gesturing. “The bag.”\n\nTurning, she saw a duffel bag that she didn’t recognize. Joe stood waiting. Ignoring her attempt to glare him into moving. Finally she sighed and went over to the workbench. When she opened the bag, she saw stacks of money. Just like in the movies; bundles of bills, neatly wrapped. While she gaped at it, the back of her head was automatically running a calculation. It had to be thousands of dollars, even though every bundle was twenties or lower.\n\n“Where—”\n\n“You remember that thing we saw on the news about that magic bullshit?” he said when she looked at him.\n\n“What?”\n\nHe stuck his lip out. “I’m got it.”\n\n“What?” she screeched.\n\n“I told you I’d figure something out.”\n\nClaire finally got her brain back on track. Sort of. “You’re drunk,” she snapped. “Or hit your head worse than I—”\n\nShe stopped when he plunged his hand into his pocket and came out with his jack knife. The blade clicked open, and he sliced it across his arm before she could think to try and stop him. Or beg him to stop. But there was no blood. He closed the knife while holding his arm up so she could see.\n\n“You ain’t gonna work no more,” he said sourly. “I’ll take care of you. That’s my job.”\n\n“Stealing ain’t a job,” she said, scared. “What happens when you get caught?”\n\n“They can’t catch me,” he said, putting the knife away. “Guns, nothing, hurts me now. And when I set myself good, I can punch through walls too.”\n\n“Joe, honey—”\n\n“No!” he shouted. “Don’t ‘honey’ me Clairebear. You gonna be my wife, and I’ll take care of things. The way it’s supposed to be.”\n\n“I ain’t staying married to a bank robber.”\n\nHis face took on the dangerous set she’d learned to recognize of late. “We ain’t getting divorced, you ain’t working for that asshole no more, and I’m gonna take care of things. All you gotta be is my wife.”\n\nClaire yelled at him, enraged, then everything went back.\n\nWhen she woke up, she was in the hospital. The smells, the sounds, they were distinctive. Joe was sitting next to the bed when she turned her head. He saw she was awake.\n\n“Baby, I’m sorry,” he said, rising and falling to his knees next to the bed. “The magic thing, it’s new. I forget how strong I am.”\n\n“You’re not stealing anymore,” she said carefully.\n\n“But—”\n\n“No,” she said. “Or you’ll have to kill me.”\n\nShe saw the emotions, the thoughts, scrolling past behind his eyes. And knew before he even answered her.\n\n“Okay, fine,” he said evenly.\n\nClaire shook her head and started crying.\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!", "The Demon in front of me roared.\n \n\n“Okay,” I turned to Jenny, who had her eyes wide open and her mouth hanging. “So the Summoning Spell worked.”\n \n\n“Do you know what this means?!”\n \n\n“That there might be another dimensions with demons and stuff, blah, blah,” I replied, rolling my eyes. The blank gray walls around the room shimmered as the flames of the Demon roared. “But how do we send it back?!”\n \n\n“Uh,” Jenny took a step back, turned to the bunch of scientists behind the one way mirror. “Donovan! You found a Banishment Spell that one time, right?”\n \n\nThere was a moment of silence. The Demon roared once again. “FOOLS!” His voice rolled through the flames and off the walls.\n \n\n“Get in here!” I screamed. One of the panels of the wall burst inward. Donovan -- all lanky and wiry hair -- got in and shut the door behind him.\n \n“O-okay! I genuinely did not think Banishment Spells would ever be useful.”\n \n\n“NO! THIS WORLD IS OURS.” The Demon took a step forward, and a column of flame erupted in front of him, and another, and then another. Columns of flames exploded from the ground in a straight line, aimed directly at Jenny.\n \n\n“Shit!” screamed Jenny. \n \n\n“Abga-sharim-balik!” screamed Donovan.\n \n\nAnd I was already moving all before this. As Jenny screamed out her curse, I leapt in front of her, stood in between the searing hot hellfire and the just-as-hot-but-in-a-different-way woman, and shouted the first spell I’ve ever come across.\n\n \nI never really thought I’d use it. It sounded so ridiculous, and I never realized what its use was.\n\n \nBut there I stood and shouted, “Yold-Bai-Vier!”\n\n \nAnd a shield exploded in front of us, and the flames washed over it, shimmering and battering against the invisible wall of force.\n\n \nWhen the flames vanished, I looked past the shimmering barrier. I felt my heart rushing. I felt the air escape my lungs.\n\n \nThere was a blue circular portal behind the Demon now, and the Demon had dug its claws into the floor as the portal tried to suck him in.\n\n \nI turned to Donovan. “He’s trying to resist it!”\n\n \nJenny cursed again. “it’s too strong!” She watched the Demon slowly get on its feet, and roar flames into the portal. Slowly, the portal shrunk. “Nothing can push it in!”\n\n \nI grinned, turned to Jenny, and said, “Yold. Bai. Vier.” And I ran as fast as I could. The wind streamed around my shield as the Protection Enchantment did its thing.\n\n \nAnd I slammed the shield against the Demon, and it grunted, roaring thunder as it fell into the portal.\n\n \nI can’t really remember the rest. I passed out after that.\n", "I murmured the words softly to myself:\n\n\"Ancient elder gods, I call on thee. Torgath. Shenron. Gibbles. Protect this chalice for me.\"\n\nNothing happened save for a draft flickering my dying candle. Strange. I closed the book softly and retired to my bed.\n\n_________________\n\n\nThe next day some of the anthropology and archeology staff went out to the bar because it was Friday and the only spell we got to work was one to produce a small frog. \n\n\"Man, he's a friendly lil guy\" Professor Stevens said. The frog sat perched on his shoulder, bobbing it's head to the beat of Journey's \"Seperate Ways\". \n\n\"I think he likes the music\" I laughed and shoveled some chips into my mouth. A twinge told me it was time to relieve myself in the dive bar's dark bathroom. \"Stevens, can you hold this beer for me? No roofies, please.\" \n\n\"Why don't you ask -- what was it -- Torgath and something else...\" \n\n\"Hah!\" I laughed and held my arms up theatrically, beer in one hand.\n\n\"Ancient elder gods, I call on thee. Torgath. Shenron. Gibbles. Protect this chalice for me.\"\n\nI set the chalice on the bar and started to walk away when I heard someone scream and drop a glass. I looked back and stared at a 8-foot reptilian hominid with black armor standing by my beer and holding a halberd. It used it to push back my friends as it snarled. It looked to me and hissed:\n\n\"Ssssssummoner. I will remain here and protect your drink.\" It waved a massive scaled hand over the beer and a light white layer of frost encased the glass and some of the bar. \n\n\"And it sssssshall remain cold for you. It issssss sssssafe to attend to your businessssss. I am the sssservant of the elderssss and you, powerful one.\" \n\nThe bar was silent except for Motorhead's \"Ace of Spades\". \n\nA massive popping sound filled the air and suddenly the same woman from before screamed again as a giant Koala-man appeared on the opposite end of the bar, clad in gold armor and pointing his sword at me.\n\n\"FOOL! You have summoned the minion of Shenron and Gibbles!\" I stared in confusion as the reptilian darted across the bar and slammed his halberd into the koala-knight. The impact forced all the bar patrons back with a whooshing wind and immense pressure. \n\n\"The battle for the end times has begun. You have chosen your side.\" The knight kicked the reptile back and prepared for his attack. \n\n[\"Now fight, Mage!\"](https://talesofatravellingsalesman.com) \n" ]	5
	[WP] Global Warming is being orchestrated by a secret organization who deliberately want to raise the temperature on Earth.	[ "Fyodor walked into the main hub of the Russian base of operations in north-east Siberia. He was wearing 3 jackets and still he felt as if he was going to find black stumps where his extremities used to be. He had long since lost sensations as he made his way back from the ice sample collections centre. His colleague, also from the University of California in Berkley was playing a video game when he walked in, covered in ice. Johnson was a California national that had only seen snow from a Marijuana dispensary in Colorado before he made the trip to Siberia. It was down to Fyodor to make the excursions to the drill and return samples back to lab for analysis. He had not closed the door to the facility properly however, and when he had removed the outer 2 layers, the door swung violently open as the wind cut through the small interior of the research facility. Fyodor reacted quickly closing the door as the -45 Celsius winds fought valiantly. He closed the door and noticed that he couldn’t breathe, the wind had stolen his breath, and that his hands were stuck to the metal door. Johnson, who had been thrown by the force of the wind, off his chair, recovered and went over to see if his friend was ok. Finding that he was wheezing and his hands stuck to the door, he poured the hot coffee he had just made and luckily had been saved from the wind, over Fyodor’s hands. He winced in pain as the nerves in his hands started a firework show of pain. Fyodor finally managed to get a lungful of beautiful sweet air into his lungs and thank his American colleague. Massaging the throbbing appendages, he returned to his station, putting the ice-samples into a refrigerator. He noticed that he had a video message from his professor Dr. Winkel, one of the leading scientists on global climate change, It was marked as urgent. He plugged in his headphones and pressed play.\n\nFor the next 10 minutes, Fyodor sat with his mouth agape, transfixed to the screen, as the Professor, covered in blood, crying, tried to explain what had happened to him. The video opened with the professor’s face framed, even then the man’s face was white with shock and blood loss, as he quickly explained that there was an active shooter at the University. The shooter had entered the professor’s office and explained that he was an agent from the collective known as “The Philosophers” who were a group of billionaires not unlike the illuminati myth. He had then shot the professor and then everyone else in the department. The professor had tried to explain that he had been approached earlier by a mysterious, anonymous online source, that if he manipulated the figures of the rise in global temperatures in the paper he was writing, he would receive 50 million USD. He had dismissed it as a prank by one of his students, clearly that had been a mistake and the threat had been very real. The professor had been coughing blood at this point, some of the words had become incoherent. There was then a loud bang as the video ended abruptly. Fyodor leaned back in his chair, trying to chew and digest everything that he had just witnessed. As he leant back felt the bump of something cold and metallic dig into the base of his skull. He heard Johnson say gently and remorsefully.\n\n“I wished you hadn’t seen that my friend,” Fyodor veins turned to ice.\n", "\"Hey, Dod... Dod.\" Reggie reached over the counter and picked one of the magazines from the front side and gave the sleeping Dod a solid smack. The startled cashier nearly fell off his stool.\n\n\"Huh? Yeah? Wazzit?\" Dod seemed unhappy about being roused from his slumber. He rubbed his forehead. \n\n\"Look at that guy, back there. Over by the gum and candy and shit.\" Reggie gestured towards the second isle from the front of the store while replacing his improvised bludgeon on the rack.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, what about him?\" He adjusted his thick rimmed sunglasses on his face and shifted in his stool, poised to fall back asleep.\n\n\"Can you see through your hungover haze for two seconds?\"\n\nDod let out a sigh and took off his sunglasses. Leaning over to get a better view, he raised an eyebrow. \"Weird time of the year to be wearing a coat that size.\"\n\n\"Weird time, Dod? It's summer... this is Arizona.\"\n\nThe man was wearing a large burgundy fur coat, the kind that PETA would throw animal blood all over you for wearing. Also a pair of gloves and what appeared to be a (badly) hand knit cap. Having made his choice of candy he reached down and grab what must have been at least eleven Snickers bars and began making his way towards the counter. As Reggie was ringing them up, he noticed the man shooting nervous glances out to the parking lot. Dod was trying to slyly get a photo without him noticing, most likely for some sort of SnapChat post.\n\n\"Alright, that'll be 14 dollars and 12 cents, bud.\"\n\nThe man didn't say anything but instead, rather frantically began going through the clearly vast number of pockets in his out of season garment. Dod just gave him a disapproving look. Wouldn't have been the first to stroll into the Circle K and forgotten their wallet. However, on his 5th pocket, he retrieved a bulging leather wallet and produced a 20 dollar bill.\n\nAs Reggie dutifully counted out the change, he heard the roar of a V8 and saw, through the window, a black Ford Crown Vic pull into one of the front spots. The bottom of the front bumper made a crunch as it drove too far into the spot. The man in the coat looked out the window and a panicked look came over his face.\nTwo men in black suits emerged from the vehicle, and appeared to be arguing.\n\n\"Every time I let you drive, you do this.\" Said one man. He was tall and muscular and had the face of the man who was trying too hard to look serious.\n\nThe other was shorter and rather chubby. It appeared as if he had just finished eating as there was a red stain that was (hopefully, Reggie thought) ketchup. \"No, no, no. Not every time. Besides, the front of the car is just too long. Way too long. Why does it need to be that long?\"\n\n\"Yes, Sheds, every time.\" The tall man open the door and addressed Reggie, who still had the $4.87 cents in his hand. The man had forgotten it when he ran suddenly to the bathroom at the back of the store. When you gotta go you gotta go, I guess, Reggie had thought. \"Hello young man. My name is Agent Bets. My associate here is called Sheds.\"\n\n\"Oh, uh, how do you do officers?\" Reggie said nervously.\n\n\"Oh.\" He laughed. A kind of fake sounding laugh. \"We're not police officers.\"\n\nThe fat one piped up, \"Yeah, we work fo-\" He was interrupted suddenly by Bets elbowing him in the stomach.\n\nBets finished his sentence, \"for a concerned party who believes that someone suspicious may have visited your store today.\" He walked over to Dod. Who was still taking pictures with his phone. Bets, with outstanding speed, grabbed the front of his shirt collar and hauled him up, snatched the phone from his hand, and placed him back on his stool. He through the phone to the floor and gave it a good stomping with his heel. \"Can't be having live coverage of these sorts of affairs.\"\n\nDod looked nervously over at Reggie, who could barely make out the fear in his eyes behind the dark shades.\n\nBets looked down at the counter and saw the candy bars. \"You boys hungry, or did someone run out of here real quick and forgot their snack?\"\n\nIt was clear to Reggie that these two gentlemen were pretty serious about... whatever it was they were doing. \"Uh, well guys... you see, we did have one fellow in here that was a little out of place. Just weird really. Big coat.\" Dod chimed in, \"Yeah man, the one's like PETA doesn't want you to wear.\"\n\nReggie chuckled. The two men didn't. They simply exchanged a knowing look. Agent bets leaned in closer to Reggie. Agent Sheds was eyeballing one of the chicken sandwiches under the heat lamp. \"Just... where might we find this gentleman? I'll take his candy to him. It'll be a shame if he doesn't get it.\"\n\n\"You're just not you when you're hungry.\" Sheds added, still drooling over the food.\n\n\"What?\" Bets shot him an angry look.\n\n\"Oh, yeah, you know. The commercial. The Snickers commercial.\" Sheds elaborated.\n\nBets was getting frustrated. \"Just tell us where he ran off to.\"\n\n\"Bathroom.\" Replied Reggie, remembering that it wasn't in his contract as a convenience store clerk to protect the privacy of his clientele.\n\n\"Good man.\" Bets smiled and slowly walked down the isle towards the public restroom and out of view.\n\n\"Could I get two of these spicy chicken sandwiches here, please?\" Said Sheds.\n\n\"Yeah, sure let me just-\" There was suddenly gunshots. Several of them and the sound of wood and porcelain being destroyed, a click, the sound of an empty magazine striking the tile floor and a new one being slid in, then the same thing again. Dod reached into the plastic case at the back of the counter and took out one of those tiny bottles of Jack Daniels and took a shot. Reggie just silently went about packing up the food. \n\n\"Oh, don't worry about him. He's a professional.\" Shed's grabbed the bag of sandwiches out of Reggie's shaking hand and laid a 20 down on the counter. \"Keep the change. Ha. Always wanted to say that. It's cool in the movies and stuff, ya know. When people say-\"\n\nBets interrupted. \"Alright Sheds, we're all done here.\" He handed Reggie a card. \"You ever see anything like that again, you call us. That's our office number. I mean anything. You know those people who always complain about your A/C being too low and say things like, 'I'm cold blooded'... especially call us.\"\n\nThe two left quietly and Reggie waited for the Crown Vic to rumble away before turning to Dod, who was working on his 4th shot.\n\n\"What does the card say?\" Asked Dod, concerned.\n\nReggie flipped over the card in his hand. \"It... it's just got Al Gore's number and website on it.\"\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] These Midnight Walks	[ "It's been a long time since she left. Over a year now as best as I can recall. I've gained some weight, about thirty pounds. I've lost my job, been skating by with what was in my 401k for the last few months. Our dog... My dog was old, finally went. It was quiet, it was in her sleep. Soon I'll be broke, and I'll be out of my house, back in with my parents I suppose.\n\nShe had reason to leave, I guess. I worked nights out at the bar, only barkeep on call so I would work most nights out of the week, and she worked days at a grocery store near the house. We never really got to see each other, and when we were both home and awake, we were tired and unhappy. She deserves better than that.\n\n\"You were scum. Always were, always will be. You're lucky she was around as long as she was.\"\n\nI thought the person was walking next to me. Guess not, cause when I looked over he wasn't there. Wasn't behind me either. Probably something in my head. It's always something in my head. Anyway, my mom is happy she's gone. My dad too, but he isn't so vocal about it. My friends, especially my best friend though... They make me feel like shit when I defend her. When I have to tell people that she wasn't as cruel as they think, when I have to tell them they don't know the whole story, when I tell them she wasn't seeing anyone else. \n\n\"You're lying to yourself honey, you need to stop that, or it's going to hurt you more than we ever could.\"\n\nAnother one. God these voices are just getting worse. It used to be easy. Her voice, her touch, her smile, they would all make the voices go away. The schizophrenia was under control while she was around. Now they won't go away. They pick on me, they tear me apart, hell they're probably to blame for everything wrong in my life, but why would I ever blame anyone but myself?\n\n\"Who else would you even blame? And if you blamed anything else, who would be here to hear and sympathise? No one. You're alone out here, like you deserve to be.\"\n\n\"I don't know.\" I know I shouldn't talk to them. They aren't real, I don't think, and giving them a platform just makes it worse. Lucky for me though, the wind picked up and the smell of wet grass assaulted my nostrils. That's why I was out here. Not the grass specifically, but the stimuli. They tended to keep the voices down, distracted me, and for now it seemed to work. They retreated, and once again I was alone in the dark, the moon pouring it's silver light down on the streets. \n\nWiping the tear the escaped my eye away, I press on. Not far now, my house is close, and I can turn on the shower and sit in the tub for a few hours after this. Maybe that's not so healthy. Maybe my life isn't so healthy anymore. The wind picks up again, bringing dust and leaves towards me, making it dance a beautiful dance. I used to love coming out here. I used to love a lot of things. \n\nI cut through the park, not a normal thing for me but I want to get home as soon as possible. As I cross the grass, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep them warm, I hear someone behind me. No one is there, ofcourse, but I look anyway. \n\n\"You're stupid.\"\n\nVery original. Well, sometimes the blunt ones hurt the most. I take a seat on a bench, looking down at the concrete the bench is situated on.\n\n\"Broken, just like you and all of your little dreams.\"\n\n\"Please stop.\" I can't help but beg. Sometimes it's all I can think to do. My arms slowly wrap around my chest as I lean forward, the voices continuing to assault me. \n\n\"You don't even deserve the life you have.\"\n\n\"You're a disgrace.\"\n\n\"You ought to just kill yourself.\"\n\n\"Excuse me?\"\n\nI sob as the weight becomes too heavy, crushing me. As I wept though, I realized something was off. Something wasn't there this time, it was just me crying. I felt alone this time.\n\n\"Excuse me, are you... Alright?\"\n\nAs my head slowly rises, I suddenly realize that I wasn't alone. Someone was here, a woman. She's out here walking, just like me. Her eyes are wet, but that could have just been because of me.\n\n\"I... I'm sorry I didn't mean...\" She takes a step forward, putting a hand on my shoulder. \"I hope I'm not...\" Her voice, it made them go away. \n\nShe sat next to me as the tears began to roll again, and hers came with mine. We sat and talked, and found out we were a lot alike. She didn't have voices, not like me, but she was sad too. Her doctors told her she would never not be sad, at least she wouldn't be if she didn't work on it. Funny, my doctor told me the same thing. Eventually the tears stopped, and we sat in silence. We both just wanted someone there.\n\nAfter about half an hour, we both stood. We looked at each other for a long time before she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, putting her head against my chest. I put my arms around her waist and held her in a quiet embrace. I could feel her squeezing harder, not wanting to let go. She did let go though, and smiled at me.\n\n\"It was nice talking to you.\" Her eyes didn't so much light up as they did begin to burn. I cant place my finger on it, but suddenly it looks like a fire is starting in her soul.\n\n\"Yea... You too.\" A smile touched my lips, the first of mine she'd seen. I felt a warmth within me. Somethin akin to cinders about to start a fire.\n\n\"Can we maybe exchange phone numbers? I would like to talk to you again. Maybe I could help, next time you start hearing things.\"\n\n\"I'd like that.\" We parted ways after she texted me, making sure it went through. She was adamant about making sure. I'm alone again, but it doesn't feel so bad. I'll be home soon, and maybe I'll just go to bed. No real need to take that shower. Not now at least. \n\nI used to love coming out here, walking. Maybe I can learn to do it again. Maybe, just maybe, I can have someone by my side on these midnight walks." ]	1
	[WP] Write a story based in a world where dreams are much, much more exciting than they're lives. The more lousy your life gets, the more fantastical your dreams get.	[ "Harry Hale shuffled along the sidewalk of 5th Avenue and 42nd Street, the crowds parting around him, not seeing him. He walked with a limp, a can-do shuffle. His clothes, once a fine Armani suit reduced to piss and shit stained trousers and a shirt yellowed and bloodied after weeks on the street, stank off all the back alleys, the under bridges, the motels that charged by the hour and by the STD New York had to offer.\n\nTwin suitcases hung under his eyes, below dirty brown hair stuck in clumps to his pale, greasy forehead.\n\nHe limped across the road, past the library and over Bryant Park to the tall, glass-faced skyscraper opposite. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, scratching at the track of needle marks on his left forearm.\n\nDreamscapes, read the shingle plastered across the face of the building. A smile touched Harry's face. He crossed the road and was ushered inside by a doorman that gave him a familiar nod.\n\n\"Ah, Mr. Hale,\" the beautiful women behind the reception desk said. \"Welcome back. I trust your treatment is complete?\"\n\nHarry nodded and grinned. He had lost four teeth in the last month, but such was the cost of doing business. The teeth would be replaced while he slept.\n\n\"If you'll follow me, Dream Chamber #17 has been prepared. I believe you're staying with us for a year this time?\"\n\nHarry nodded again. He didn't trust himself to speak.\n\n\"Very well. Follow me and we'll get you plugged in.\"\n\nAt the lowest point in his life, Harry took a gilded elevator thirty floors up to the executive level. Once there, he was stripped of his offending suit of clothes and left staring out of the expansive window down at New York City. He could glimpse Times Square from here, and even from this distance recognised the billboard with his face on it. The man he had been a month ago would not recognise the man he was now.\n\nBut then that was the point.\n\nHarry was placed in a sleek white chair that reminded him of visits to the dentist when he was a kid, only much more comfortable. The doctor arrived, his assistants, and began to hook Harry up to the sleep machine.\n\n\"Hello again, Harry,\" the doctor said. \"Always good to see you. The extended stay this time? Very good.\"\n\nHarry licked his dry, split lips. \"I... I did everything in the booklet. The drugs, the theft, the fights...\" His eyes flashed. \"Everything.\"\n\n\"Excellent,\" the doctor said. \"You're guaranteed to have a year of pleasure and happiness few have ever experienced. And, of course, longer in the Dreamscape. We'll make sure of that. When you awake, you'll be whole and healthy again, ready to get back to work.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Harry whispered. \"Back to work.\"\n\nOne of the nurses injected something into his arm. Harry relaxed, a wave of calm washed over him. He fell asleep.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] "Do you have a moment to talk about our lord, Lucifer?"	[ "I apologize if the formatting for this is off, writing on my phone ATM.\n\n\"Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and saviour, Lucifer?\"\n\nGet out. Seriously, fucking get out. I have had enough of the Jehovah's Witnesses. Why did I get fucking Satanists at my door? Again?\n\n\"Listen here, pal. This isn't a path you want to go down. You want to stay alive? Don't be a Satanist, of all religions. You are the least respected religion ever. Of all timr. Even less than Islam, and they had some really violent people. I don't want anyone knocking on my door from you lot or any other group like you. You hear me? Fuck off.\"\n\nAnd he left, almost scared.\n\nI closed the door to continue my conversation with Zeus.\n\nWell, I couldn't have told him the whole truth, could I?" ]	1
Year of the story is up to the writer, the idea was to put it somewhere in the future but writing the exact year and age would limit the memories and the story.	[WP] Social networks have evolved and it's now possible to share your memories in a way people can experience them like they were there. You are the oldest person on the planet and on your death bed. They log you in to your new account and wait..	[ "This doesn't follow the prompt because it's somthing I wrote in an odd form to cope with an event in the past and reading this prompt I would like to share the emotion because I think that what it makes me feel helps me cope with everything that has come after...don't make me regret posting this haha!\n\n\nThe nurse rushing through the door I'm startled from my half drunken sleep \"Shawn! Shawn!!! You need to get up!!!!\" Hand crashing into the half filled coke bottle topped with dewers I kick the rough blanket from my lower half as I shamble to the door, pearing my head into the blinding light of the hall I rush after her, past the nurses with their looks, You know that look! Like \"Thank god it's not me but I am so sorry\" I rush past each door with someone breathing through something causing a hiss of air as I run around the door jam the nurse yanking lines to silence the noise of the monitor as I grab mom's hand the tears finally rushing from my lids \"Take as much time as you need!\" \n\nShe says as she then rushes from the room and I rush my face into her hair, the side of her head my nose to her temple \"It's okay mama\" her gown dragging against my shirt I feel the memeories crashing through \"It's okay momma \" I grip her hair tight enough to hurt \"It's okay mommy\" I dig my nails into her skin as I sob like a newborn into her cheek \n\n\"It's okay....just let go!\" \n\nMy hands wrapping under her side as I lose myself in her smell...my mama, my angel, my only true friend ebbing in breath as I memorise her skin and hair \"It's okay.?.\"I cry as if words could make it so \"It's okay mommy!!\" I grip her hip tightly in my grasp pressing my nose in to her temple \"Just don't be in pain..it's okay...\"Kissing her clammy skin I sob harder \"Please be okay.....it's okay!!!\" I sob thinking of everything I was too busy or scared to say \"It's okay!!\" My tears crossing her cheeks as I hold her close, her chest barely moving...my hands moving to her head I sob onto her forehead \"it's okay...it's okay\" My mind flying to our old couch her hands wrapped around me telling me \"it's okay\" \n\nHer voice faint in my mind I sob harder grasping her tighter \"let go......it's okay...I'll be fine..\" wrapping my arms around her torso I sob into her hair 'It's ok...momma, It's okay\" Her breath slowing I cry out harder \"it's okay!\" I feel her gasp against my cheek! \"it's okay!!!!!\" Nothing following as I hold my breath collapseing against the bed as copious amounts of scotch course though my veins I scream \"It's okay!!!!\" her last breath flowing through my hair I hold tighter praying for her to be \"okay\" just be okay....be okay....\"mama it's okay!!!!\" my hands crossing her shoulders I cry \"it's okay..\" \n\nMama my only true friend....please \"be okay\" my hands squezzing her biceps \"just be okay..\" I sobbed into her temple \"it's okay\" I say as I let go not wanting to feel the coldness creep in...I lean down to kiss her lips one last time before walking towards the door....\n\n\n\"I'll be okay?.??\" I say as I open the door, the nurses not able to meet my gaze I stride down the hall screaming inside for a cigarette and scotch......winding the halls I feel the blast of fresh air reaching the parking lot...the cool winter air greeting me as if it knew what had come to pass after all these trips....the air lifting me best it can towards vice and half arsed virtue....my next smoke...my next escape...dead..just dead..walking that lonely old byway...my phone telling me the way as if I can't take one step in front of the other...'it's okay...\" I scream inside having already lost everything, I now have truly nothing...\"Mama!\" I sob making my way to my slice of deathly vice...fucking twelve dollars a pack to feel normal...christ!!!" ]	1
	[WP] When you die you're presented with the option to become God of something. With so many people, the good choices like "thunder" and "the sea" are taken. But when you make your choice, the creator is impressed, and anxious to see how you'll use your new status.	[ "\"A very... Interesting choice,\" the creator said. Their echoing voice carried easily through the area around you. \"Though I'm not sure it means what you think it means.\"\n\n\"What, you mean I can't take it?\" I asked, obstinately.\n\n\"No, feel free, but there's no going back on this choice. Most people choose things they want to do, not picking a specific theme,\" they said.\n\n\"Well, I'm not backing down. If there's no god of blood, then I want to be it,\" I said.\n\n\"Very well, God of blood you shall be, your domain that of genetics,\" they said. \"If nothing else, I trust you will be an entertaining failure.\"\n\n\"Wait, what?\" I said. I had thought it was something about war and sacrifice, which sounded extremely cool, genetics sounds like a really lame element to control.\n\n\"I assure you, it's quite the interesting choice, you may even find it to your liking, but I did say it wasn't what you thought it was. We've already got thousands of overly specific permutations of fire and weather gods, but surprisingly, you're the first god of bloodlines. Now get going, I have a hundred more people to go through before tomorrow.\"\n\nI found myself shunted out of the foggy room into a well lit corridor. I walked down the hall, seeing various names in differing languages from modern to ancient. I found a door with my name on it.\n\nInside was a simple desk with motes of dust floating in the air around it. I sat down, and one of the motes dropped onto the desk, making a strange splashing effect on the surface. From the desk rose a dog, or more precisely a puppy. I patted it on the head and the dog sank into the desk, a small beam of light shooting off into the sky.\n\nI got the sudden feeling that somewhere in the world, that same puppy had just been born. I pulled open the drawer of my desk as another mote sank into the top, and found a set of surgical tools. A kitten rose up, and I tried using the scalpel on it, peeling back it's skin. My living self would have been sickened by it, but as I looked at the exposed flesh I saw possibilities. A kitten born with an extra limb, or a lion's mane. Maybe a cat that had a second head if I did it right. I poked the probe at the cat's heart and it popped. The kitten sank into the table and shot off. It was stillborn.\n\nThen I got a human. I wasn't sure I wanted to mess with this one, but it looked so frail. Emaciated, as if it was extremely malnourished. I tapped it's head with a hammer, cracking it open, and prodded at the brain. I felt a twinge within myself as I looked, and I did what felt normal. I poked my finger with the suturing needle, and dripped blood into the child's brain. It sank in, and shot off. A natural genius born to a family in extreme poverty, only time would tell if it improved things for them.\n\nI got a fish next, and finally figured out what my actual abilities were. I brushed my fingers along the scales of the animal and they changed. Not much, and only shifting from one shade of yellow to a second then shifting back, but I finally realized what I was doing. Physical alterations weren't the objective, I was choosing what traits the baby would be born with. I gave the fish a larger head and longer fins, mostly because I thought it looked nice.\n\nThe rest of the day was spent on plants. Ferns, flowers, tree saplings, it figures I would end up dying in the spring and get roped into dealing with the entire season's pollinated plants. After the 432nd bit of moss I turned purple for fun, I heard music, followed by a message.\n\n\"A fine day's work. Get some rest, you've got a long day ahead of you tomorrow,\" A woman's voice spoke into the room. It was stern, but somewhat soft spoken. Strangely, my mind gave her the name Helen, and said she was the goddess of Zud. I wasn't even sure what that was, but she was the goddess of it. Not who I would've picked for announcing break time, but I'm not the creator so who am I to judge?\n\nA whitish cloud drifted toward the desk and rose up to hang overhead. A few thousand more motes for me to sort through as soon as my shift started again, and I was definitely lowballing it. It was going to be a long afterlife." ]	1
	[WP] Write your favorite cliche story in the style of a limerick.	[ "There once was a bum in bar. \nWho'd cried into many a jar. \nBut his luck would come in, \nAnd turn his tears to a grin. \nWhen they all seen he was a star. \n\nAnd Enough of that for now, however. \nThe wishing leaves ye wanting forever. \nAnother drink would suffice, \nA few more would be nice. \nAnd the future could stay in the never. \n \nIn that small wooden bar the old music did play. \nHe remembered a lost, but cherished yesterday. \nHe recalled his wife and simpler times. \nAnd then how she left and all of his crimes. \nHe thought he should follow, then that he should stay. \n \nIn they walked, young and happy. \nShe less pleased, him just sappy. \nThey sat in the back and talked awful loud. \nHe sat upright and still sounded proud. \nThe man missed feeling happy. \n\nTo hell with them he thought. \nIt's the truth, they aint sought. \nThey have no clue, \nbut sure whats new? \nignorant of danger frought. \n\nPerhaps he could help, \nThem and himself. \nA reason to live. \nSomething to give. \nPerhaps he should help. \n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You're dozing off after a fun day. A scaly hand creeps out of the closet and flips the lights off. "Happy birthday. Tomorrow your scare level goes up to PG-13."	[ "As I sat in my room I looked towards the closet. I didn't really think about it, but it was a reflex, a primal sense of something wrong.\n\n \n\nThen I saw the hand extend out and flip the light switch. I gasped, unsure of what to do, my muscles at once priming me to run and pinning me to the bed.\n\n \n\n\"Happy birthday. Tomorrow your scare level goes up to PG-13.\" Gargled the voice from inside the closet, a voice that I had long ago written up as nothing but the cruel joke of my imagination. I stared in fear, watching as the hand slowly retreated into the shadows of my wardrobe.\n\n \n\nI quivered on the bed, the sheets making soft scratching noises as they moved over one another in time with my shaking. And then a thought hit me. It hit me so hard it trickled out of my mouth before I had time to consider it. \"What does that even mean?\" I blurted.\n\n\n\nInstantly the hand stopped moving and I heard a sigh from inside the dark depths of the wardrobe. \"I thought you had been given the pamphlet?\"\n\n \n\n\"Pamphlet?\" I stuttered, starting to giggle due to my nerves. The voice behind the wardrobe door just mumbled something, its low gargle causing the bed to vibrate slightly.\n\n \n\n\"It is standard operating procedure,\" gargled the voice. \"You are meant to be given seven days notice of such changes,\" it continued, its voice getting lower and shaking less as it went on. \"Then I guess I must do what needs to be done,\" it growled, causing me to stiffen once more, my giggles going instantly silent.\n\n \n\nAnd that is how the room stayed for several minutes. Totally silent. Not a sound from inside nor out. I just sat and waited to find out what was this thing that needed to be done, too curious and scared to even consider moving.\n\n \n\nAfter some time the door of the wardrobe opened a little further and a projector rolled out and turned on, projecting a bright white slide onto my bedroom wall. As it came into focus I could quite clearly make out the words \"The Scare Rating System And You: A Guide\" written in a solid and formal font.\n\n\n\n\"Hurry up,\" gurgled the familiar voice as a much higher voice mumbled something in return before coughing and starting to speak.\n\n \n\n\"The scare rating system is designed to tailor our scares to the growing and changing needs of your family.\" Started the voice, sounding like it had practiced this speech many times before. \"Established in 1968 the Scare rating system was the product of,\" continued the voice only for a gurgled mutter to cut it off.\n\n \n\n\"Oh?\" Asked the high voice, before a quick and muffled back and forth began. The high voice and the gurgle argued for a few minutes until the high voice sighed. \"Okay, if you insist, but I really do suggest the whole presentation. If a scare is rated PG-13 that means the scares are suitable for ages 13 and above.\"\n\n \n\nI sat mesmerized as the slides changed quickly, not stopping until it reached one headed with a large PG-13 logo and then a load of bullet points. The nerves and fear had given way to a transcendental form of hilarity, one where I could not be sure what was funnier. What was going on or my rather relaxed reaction to it all.\n\n\n\n\"For a scare to by PG-13,\" continued the voice, bringing me back to full attention. \"Nudity must be infrequent and non-sexual from both parties and thus such scares are only rendered after appointed bathtimes and only in situations where the covers are up above the pectoral muscles. Violence will be conducted without blood or other bodily fluids. Now a special note must be drawn to language.\"Noted the voice.\n\n\n\nI sat up, slightly excited to see where this was going, the previously solid voice sounded slightly nervous and this could only mean what was coming next was going to extremely interesting.\n\n \n\n\"The F-word may only be used once per scare and in a non-sexual manner. So, if you pardon my Flemish. Mr. Skinflayer may, and I quote. Fucking rip your bones out. But he may not fuck you and rip your bones out.\" Said the voice firmly before coughing. I fell backward onto the bed in a fit of giggles, unable to contain it anymore. Under my giggles, I could hear the voices argue again before the projector was slowly reeled in by its power cable.\n\n \n\nI blinked as the projector's bright beam blinded me for a few moments. As I sat up and rubbed my eyes I saw the hand hanging out of the wardrobe door once more.\n\n \n\n\"So if that is settled,\" it gurgled, the full horror coming back into its voice. \"You can beware the coming night! Beware!\" It cackled as the hand slid back into the wardrobe and the door closed behind it. I sat for a few moments before shrugging and getting back under the covers. At least I knew what was coming now. ", "\"Boo.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" \n\nThere, sitting at the base of Karl's bed, is a monster. A balding humanoid, covered in blue-green scales, the thing is naked as the day it was born.\n\n...if it was born in the first place. Karl would rather not think about that, instead preferring to move as far away from the thing as possible. Which isn't very far, given the size of his bed. His head knocks into the headboard, and he groans.\n\nWords slip from his mouth, surprising himself with how measured they are. \"What the fuck are you?\"\n\nThe humanoid appears to consider the question for a moment, but any response is stopped by another arrival.\n\n\"Damn it, Karl,\" says a second monster, slithering out the partly-open closet. This one is lizardlike, with small wings covering half its body. They flap aimlessly, not achieving anything, perhaps a depressing allegory for the lizard's life - but Karl might have been reading too far into that. \"That's our only f-bomb for tonight. Now we have to say 'crap'.\"\n\n\"Crap,\" agrees the humanoid. \"And we had such amazing plans, too! We were going to, um, swear at him. While naked.\"\n\n\"Come to think of it, that wouldn't last very long, if we could only swear once, would it?\" \n\n\"You're right, you're right. We'll have to change that plan. Daisy won't like it, though.\"\n\n\"Daisy doesn't like anything, though,\" says the lizard. It strokes the chin of its elongated head with one delicate claw, drawing a drip of blood, but doesn't appear to mind. \"I still think we should go with my plan.\"\n\nKarl shudders, both at the open wound and the implication, pushing himself further into the head of his bed.\n\n\"You may be correct, in that. It is a rather... interesting back-up plan.\" The humanoid's several chins shake as it chortles, a sound very different than Karl would have expected. Almost... drunk.\n\nTwo seconds later, long enough that his laughter had almost petered out, the humanoid is joined by the lizard-thing with a high-pitched chuckle.\n\n\"So, kid,\" says the humanoid, after a good fifteen seconds of chortling. \"Are you ready?\"\n\n\"N-no,\" says Karl. \n\n\"Mm, too bad,\" the lizard says. \"It's time to try out weed.\"\n\n^^^^^r/forricide", "\"Nice try but I'm not scared!\" I yelled with as much conviction as I could muster. I turned my body away the closet but I could still see the shiny jet black scaly hand with freakishly long fingernails in my head. I shook the image away and replaced it by imagining my mom going to Party City and buying a prop hand just to try and shock me. I let out a laugh and felt the fear being expelled from my body.\n\n\"Why are you laughing, kid?\" The same voice as before called out. I couldn't recognize it as my mom's voice but I figured she was just speaking weirdly or something. \n\nI turned back around, feeling silly for even being scared for a second. \"Come on, Mom, I'm not dumb. You caught me. Can you ground me or whatever in the morning though? I'm tired.\" My friends and I had watched The Sixth Sense earlier even though my parents forbid me from watching PG-13 movies. But it was my 12th birthday and I wanted Jessica and Kate to think I was cool. Was that such a crime? \"How'd you find out?\"\n\nThe voice behind the closet laughed but it didn't sound like my mom's usual loud cackling. The cackling that so embarrassed me even when it was just us in the basement watching Friends. This laughter was quiet but there was an edge to it that suddenly made me feel uneasy. \n\n\"That's enough, Mom. You made your point.\" The laughter grew louder. I turned away from the closet, covered my ears and yelled, \"Stop!\" \n\nMy dad opened the door to my room and the laughter stopped instantly. He sounded more tired than anything else, \"Rachel, it's the middle of the night, you're going to wake your mother.\"\n\nI jumped up in my bed and pointed vigorously to the closet. \"Mom's gone fucking crazy, Dad! I'm sorry I watched the movie but hiding in my closet is just, like, too much!\"\n\n\"Rachel! Language!\" Dad looked at me like I was the insane one. He quieted his voice but I could still tell he was pissed off, \"Your mom is in bed trying to sleep.\" He paused, \"What movie are you talking about? You know what? Don't answer that, we'll talk in the morning.\" When Dad turned around to walk down the hallway back to his room, he sighed. \"Sweetie, go back to bed.\" \n\nI heard footsteps approaching. Dad glanced at me with annoyance and said, \"Our brilliant daughter thinks you're in her closet.\" I bet he thought I couldn't see but he rolled his eyes. As she stuck her head in my room, the color drained from my face. This woman was not my mother. \n\nI was stunned into silence. The stranger said, \"Go to bed, Rach.\" She blew me a kiss and closed the door. The laughter from the closet resumed, continually growing louder and louder as I stuck my fingers in my ears, fruitlessly trying to block it out." ]	3
	[WP] The universe of the last video game you played is now your reality.	[ "I run on a daily basis. Not that far, just to city hall and back. But today was the first time I ran in the rain. It felt good. As the cooling droplets touched my skin, I felt refreshed. Each puddle was a goal, a hurdle to be jumped. I felt indestructible, but as I was jogging through my green light, I was blindsided by someone who ran a red light. \"That's not fair\" was the final thought that went through my head.\n\nI woke up in a small, dark room with a jail cell door. In my right hand, I had what looked like a sword hilt, and on my belt a mysterious key. Also I was wearing funny clothes. I had no idea where I was, but there was a message on the ground in glowing orange. \"I can't take this...\"Next to it was a dead body. \"Oh wow ok you ok there buddy?\" I examined his body, but it was rotten, as if it had been there for ages. I panicked. All I wanted was out of that cell. I tried to open the door but it was locked. Force it? No avail. I looked around, searching for something to pick the lock with. Conveniently, the corpse had a key, which opened the door. In the distance, I saw several human-like shadows. \"Excuse me!\" No response. Upon closer examination, they were like zombies, only they were not aggressive. \"Hollows,\" I thought. In my right hand a hilt. I just proceeded, paying no attention to the nearby hollows, and I climbed the ladder to the next room.\n\nI end up in a giant clearing, in the middle, a stick protruding from the ground. Next to it, another orange message. \"Try lighting\". But with what? I held my hand out to the stick, and it burst into flames! A voice echoed through the room. \"BONFIRE LIT\". I rested for a bit and waltzed through the giant doors in front of me. \"Holy shit why are there so many pots?!\" I proceeded to go Legend of Zelda on the pots to see if there was anything in them, but all of them were empty. \"Ok...\" I walked to the middle of the room, and suddenly a very large, bottom heavy demon-like being with a giant ass hammer dropped from the ceiling. \"I'm fucked.\" With its first swing, I back stepped, then I ran forward, flailing my hilt. \"Nothing's happening?\" I got slammed into a pillar. \"Ok, so I'm not dead.\" In my line of sight, a door. Smaller than the demon. Pretty sure that's where I should go, so as the demon starts floating, I sprint like my life depended on it. The demon dropped, unleashing a shockwave that shot me through the door. \"This is insane...\"\n\nIn front of me is another bonfire. So I light, rest, and go through the next door to see a hallway, at the end, a hollow with a bow. Next thing I know, an arrow\nflies into my eye. \"Gah shit! My eye!\" Out of my other eye, I see it loading another arrow, so I quickly roll into the nearest inlet on my left. I pillage a shield(cracked, but still a shield) off a corpse and I'm a pretty cocky guy so in my head I'm thinking, \"Got nothing on me now, bitch.\" The arrow in my eye mysteriously disappears, and I start sprinting into the hallway, shield up. \"GOTCHA NOW ASSHOLE! WAIT WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY FROM ME GET BACK HERE!\" Where it stood is a corpse with an axe, so naturally, I pillage it and replace my sword hilt. I run through a doorway to the left and up a flight of stairs. This asshole greets me with an arrow to the other eye. \"DIE BITCH!\" I cut its head off with my axe. \"20 souls,\" a voice in my head echoes. I guess killing things gives me souls. Not sure if that's good or bad but I'll keep going.\n\nProceeding through the doorway, I end up in a giant room, which appeared to be the second story of the first bonfire I lit. The path splits, and I'm forced to choose between left and right. I put my axe down, and whichever way it pointed would be the way I went. \"Left!\" Dead end, broken staircase. \"Ok, right!\" Now I'm at another fork. Should I go upstairs, or downstairs. \"Always go up!\" I go up the stairs, and a wrecking ball drives me back down. \"Owww, ok.\" The wall behind me breaks, and I see a dude lying down on a pile of bricks in the water. \"Come here,\" he whispers, as if he's struggling to even breathe. \"Oh, you're no hollow, eh? Thank goodness. I'm done for, I'm afraid. I'll die soon, then lose my sanity. I wish to ask something of you. You and I, we're both undead... hear me out, will you?\" That was cryptic. I'm undead? Like a zombie? I looked at my axe, and the reflection that looked back at me looked like one of those hollows. \"Oh god... sure, I'll listen.\" \"Regrettably, I have failed in my mission, but perhaps you can keep the torch lit. There is an old saying in my family. Thou who art undead, art chosen. In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the land of Ancient Lords. When thou ringeth the Bell of Awakening, the fate of the Undead shalt know. Well now you know, and I can die with hope in my heart. Oh, one more thing. Here, take this. An Estus Flask, an Undead favorite. Oh, and this. Now I must bid farewell. I would hate to harm you after death, so go now. And thank you.\" He disappears. I'm completely dumbfounded, but really thirsty. I take a swig of the Estus flask and instantly feel rejuvenated. The dude also gave me a key, which I have no idea where it opens. I turn back, sights set on going upstairs. There is a hollow waiting for me. I cripple it and watch as it writhes in pain. \"That's what you get for the wrecking ball. Now say you're sorry.\" I planned on giving it some of my Estus, but instead, the hollow tries to hit me once more, but I cut its head off with my axe. I use the knight's key to open the door in front of me, which leads outside. It looks like it stopped raining, but it's extremely cloudy. But I'm for sure not in the same world anymore.\n\nTo my right is a glowing corpse. I put my shield away, and pillage the corpse, finding a weird fire. \"Oh shit!\" I was surprise attacked by a nearby hollow. Panicking, I threw the fire at the hollow, and it burned to a crisp. \"7,\" another voice in my head echoes. I throw fire at the next two hollows in my sight. \"6,5.\" Ok, it's a countdown. To my left is a cloud of fog, but ahead of me is a doorway to another dimly lit room. To the room! In the room are two hollows, both with shields and spears.I throw my fire at them and melt their already dead bodies. \"4,3.\" The door is locked, so I proceed back to the fog.\n\nGoing through the fog I'm back at the room with the lardo demon. With an axe in my right hand and my fire in my left, I plunge off the balcony onto the demon with my axe. \"SURPRISE LARDO!\" I backstep a couple of times and proceed to throw fire at it until a voice in my head says 0. The fire in my left hand goes out. Boy am I in trouble. Lardo demon swipes me once and I feel a tingling sensation and pass out. \n\"That's not fair...\"\n\nI awaken at the bonfire past the little doorway. The fire in my hand is back. Did I just die? Do I lose souls for dying. \"How many souls do I have?\" I thought out loud. \"0\" a voice replied. Ok, so I died, and now I have to go the long way around killing every single hollow that I already killed, which was a drag. Before going through the white fog again, I take a swig of estus, and pray to whatever the god of this world is. Round 3 lardo.\n\nI open with another plunge. This time, I do the same strat, backstepping and throwing fire until it reaches 0 and the fire goes out. I pull out my shield, and the demon floats in the air again. I don't know what came over me, but I started sprinting toward the demon, rolling behind it as it hits the floor. I hold my ground, and with one strike at its tail, I take it down. \"Victory achieved!\" I don't know why, but I felt like yelling that. I got a giant key and this black diamond. Behind me was a blood puddle with white smoke coming out of it. I touch it and instantly feel a little stronger. \"Retrieval,\" I thought. I open the giant door, and end up outside again. I proceed to the edge of the cliff in front of me. This is it. This is the world I'm in now, kinda like that game I was playing last night. What was it? I don't remember. One final orange message in the area appears on the floor in front of me. A large crow appears before me suddenly. \"Dark Souls ahead.\"\n\n(Possible continuation as this is my first answer. If possible, I would like feedback and if I should continue with this dark souls simulation. Thanks in advance!)", "\"I've never shot a bow in my life. Well, okay, once at camp but I sucked and it was plastic.\" \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"You're a hunter.\" \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Marksman hunta too, mon. So... da rifle bein' more ya speed?\" \n\n&nbsp;\n\nIt was hot. It smelled weird and I was in leggings and tunic and freakin' boots getting into it with a troll and the most effeminate man I've ever seen. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nOk, elf. But still. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nFrustrating. Very frustrating, but they needed to understand that this, my being here - this was no good for anyone. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"No- ok, you know what? Just, please tell me how I can get to the tavern.\" It wasn't much, but at least it would get me far, far away from the pushy bowyer trying to make a sale and his judgmental counterpart. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nSaid counterpart looked away, unimpressed. \"She's talking to you, Lomji,\" the blood elf said. The douche. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nThe troll - Lomji - gave me a pretty good natured smile to accompany his directions. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"All right...all right, ya don't be needin ta be so rude to a potential customer. Little hunta - ya just gotta go down da path a ways. You'll be findin' it easy.\" He gestured in some vague direction, but I took what I could get. \n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Ok... ok, great - thank you,\" I muttered, fumbling to pull out the map I had stuffed.. somewhere, damn it all. \"Son of a ... damn it, why am I wearing so much crap?!\" \n\n&nbsp;\n\nI barked my way to the street, narrowly avoided getting run over by... something, was that a freakin' bear? \n\n&nbsp;\n\nOrgrimmar was less glamorous than portrayed in the game, and even then it was all spikes and dirt and dust. The sky was half-blocked by floating creatures, most I recognized but had little intention of getting anywhere near. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis was nuts. Absolutely nuts, because I hadn't even played in ages and then oops, you log in one night for kicks, and next thing you're living it. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nI'd already been called Champion once or twice, even told that the War Chief wanted to see me, had a mission or orders. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nNo way in hell. I was holing up somewhere to sort this out, far, far away from the angry dead chick currently leading the Horde.\n\n&nbsp;\n \nLooking up from the map, I started off in the direction Lomji pointed to. \n", "The street is dark and damp, the thin sheen of new snow coating the world around me, my laboured breathing creating small puffs of mist that I'm willing to stay down behind the garbage cans. I can't help it though, between the sprint over here and the imminent danger waiting to reveal my hiding spot, I'm not in control of my heart, my breathing, or my bladder.\n\nA shadow glides over my position and the sudden movement collapses me into a puddle of my own making. I can feel a cold terror creeping in from all sides as the fear takes over and it's all I can do not to scream. Clambering back to me feet I press my face up against the garbage can. Where normally the cold metal would comfort my burning flesh, it just permeates deeper under my skin chilling me to the core. I peer cautiously over the rim to see the hulking figure, a large brown mass, as if part of a mountain had torn itself free. The shapeless creature seems to turn in response to my movement, and shifts itself slowly in my direction, not so much walking as rolling over itself, the earth and clay within it shifting. Then all at once there's shape to the mound, a large hand, fingers pressing themselves out of the clay and arcing towards where I'm hiding. With that realisation I stand up, ready to run, but I'm too late. In a sudden burst of speed the hand fires out from its host extended by a long shaft of clay. I close my eyes and way for the impact to arrive.\n\nOpening my eyes, the hand can't be further than in inch from my nose, the brown earthy tones giving way to a blue hue that envelops it entirely. The hand suddenly drops, shattering as it hits the cold snow-laced pavement to reveal a black hooded figure holding a small grenade-like device. \n\n\"Run\" it yells in a gravely voice. \"Leave now if you want to live\".\n\nTurning tail I head down the alley, running as fast as my frozen body would carry me. \nWith the last of my consciousness aimed towards the bizarre encounter I was running from I hear a voice that seemed to be coming from underwater, muffled somehow, growl.\n\n\"Well bat, seems you've come out to play after all.\"\n\nEdit: A couple of small word changes", " I don't know how this happened but it's amazing, I mean... I'm different, everything is but it's still amazing. I wouldn't change a thing even though there's a lot to get used to, the feeling of the game is just so amazing. I'm currently flying above a forest and it's weird, the nerves aren't perfect but I can feel the wind blowing past me and my heart racing in a good way. \n\n It started a week ago when I was playing SAO: lost song, I had started the game like normal but there was another option at the menu. It said \"realism\" and it listed the benefits of playing it, they seemed good so I pressed it. I passed out after and woke up looking at the sky, my back felt weird and so did the rest of me so I sat up and looked down at myself. On my feet were pink and black leather boots, there was a skirt with a red leather bag and my hands had gloves on them... I was skinnier too. \n\n When I looked around I saw I was in a park in a city, it looked like Central Park almost but the buildings were more fantasy like with a giant twisting tree in the background. I ran to the city part and saw my [reflection](https://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/deathbattle/images/2/2f/Lightning_Transparent_Render.png/revision/latest?cb=20160211225403) then screamed. There were people around and they were looking at me so I ran away until I calmed down. I was looking at my hand and made it fall fast since I was confused and scared then a menu came up in front of me. \n\n I realized what it was then I pushed \"log out\" thinking I'd wake up as myself, I didn't... when I woke up I felt weird still and couldn't see past a screen that was in front of me. When I took it off black hair fell in front of my face, I looked down and was a woman like in the game but wearing a black tank top and black briefs instead. The room I was in looked like a nice apartment with some of the things I had but some things missing, my phone was on the table next to the bed I was on so I picked it up. It had the same music along with more, the games were there but there were some other ones too. The SAO game was missing though, everything was so confusing so I put the phone down and walked around. \n\n The room was mostly the same technology wise, there was a hologram alarm clock though. I found a mirror and saw I looked like Melonie Mac, there was a computer and a nice set up in the house so I thought maybe I was her in an alternate world... or maybe my life was merged or something. When I searched my name it said I was a streamer who played Alfhiem Online using an in game camera, it turned out I was just having fun alone in the game when I entered it. I spent the next week getting used to things and even streaming a few times. \n\n It's the end of the week and I'm just playing alone, I haven't found a possible way to get back and in a few days the alert on my phone says I'll be bleeding. But this game is kind of worth it, it's amazing and I'm in a farther date in time so I'm sure there's even better stuff to deal with the bleeding. I wouldn't know about the stuff from my time but improvements are usually happening to most things, I'm not too worried. I'd probably stay here if the only choices were my old life and this one.", "I awoke to a full moon, blood red, with clouds scudding rapidly across a dark sky. Red specks winked in and out of existence, like some bizarre evil fog. As I looked around, getting my bearings, the moon returned to a normal color and the skies cleared.\n\nThe wilderness seemed densely populated with wildlife. Boar and deer abounded, as did wild-growing fruits and edible herbs. Clusters of enormous fireflies flitted through the forest to one side, while a small herd of horses stood eating in a clearing on the other. Silence abounded—except, oddly, I could hear notes from a piano! It was in tune, and played well, and almost musical…but not quite. The sound had an odd quality of coming from everywhere and nowhere, and as there was no piano or pianist to be seen.\n\nI wandered aimlessly, and eventually found the burnt skeleton of a small farm. In the corner of the farmhouse was a chest, strangely undamaged by the fire. I leaned down and gripped the lid, but it wouldn’t budge. In frustration, I stood and kicked it, just below the lid. To my surprise, it popped open! It contained a round shield, a few feet wide, with an attractive fish design in two shades of blue. The design was familiar, as if I’d seen it before, but on something unimportant. Having no other protection, I took it with me.\n\nI found a road not long after—well, a dirt track, really. There was no evidence of even wheel ruts, just footprints and hoofprints in the dust. Assuming it must lead to civilization eventually, I walked along it. As I did, I pondered the strange red beam I could see piercing the sky. It shot from one horizon to the other, perfectly straight. It reminded me of shooting a laser pointer through fog. I couldn’t quite see where it came from or where it was going. It didn’t seem like either end was someplace I would want to be. Fortunately my road ran perpendicularly.\n\nAfter some travel, I heard a snorting noise, decidedly different from the boars I’d been seeing. Suddenly, the random piano plinkings disappeared, replaced by horns and drums, still from nowhere. I was grateful for my fishy shield, as a red gremlin with a huge head and a short wooden club leapt from the bushes by the roadside and began to threaten me. It was aggressive, but extremely stupid - it telegraphed its intentions with the club and seemed content to just keep hitting my trusty shield. I worked out how to back away from it while keeping my shield up, moving into the undergrowth, hoping for a tree branch or something to fight back with.\n\nI heard approaching hoofbeats, and a “Yah! Yah!” in the distance. The red monster was oblivious, still mindlessly battering my shield. A gorgeous chestnut horse with a brilliant white mane appeared, carrying a blond man in a sky-blue tunic. As they came close, he leapt from the back of the horse. Time slowed to a crawl as he pulled out a brutal-looking metal bow. He nocked a single arrow, but somehow three flew from the tip, through the monster’s head. It exploded into purple sparks and dust, leaving one of its teeth behind. The man collected the tooth and then looked to me. I felt the absurd urge to give him a stack of crepes - ah, but now that I knew where I was, I could give him something much better. \n\nI motioned for him to follow and climbed a rocky hill nearby. He was clearly intrigued as we scrambled to the top. As I’d hoped, there was a round rock perched loosely right at the top. As I picked it up and held it over my head - “Yahaha! You found me!” ", "The sword slashed at my arm, tearing at the muscle, hammering hard against bone. Ligaments and tendons ripped away. They knotted back together, cells diving forward, an agony worse than the wounding. Another strike, a spear jutting through my kneecap, now fractured and broken. My legs gave way underneath but they did not relent. Slashing and jabbing and cutting and breaking. The pain unceasing. My mind screamed for release, the warm oblivion of death. I would weep had I eyes to weep with. I lay there, begging for mercy from the creature that held me captive. Yet it would not let me go. Would never let me go. The pain continued on and on and on and on and on and on and on. Each time I was cut I would heal, only to be cut again. I cursed and prayed to every god, everything that had cursed me, made my life what it was. One would think it would get better, with time. That the agony would fade away eventually. That I would stop feeling. It didn't. Never did. Never would. As consciousness faded away I felt relief in deaths brief respite. \n\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nI woke up trying to scream, clawing at my throat. I couldn't speak. I couldn't scream, couldn't cry, couldn't yell. Memories of death, phantom pains surged through me. Not real, but terrifying nonetheless. The sight of those creatures, those horrid beasts tearing me apart would haunt me through death and back. I would shiver with the fear of anticipation if the creature would leave me. It never did. Never would. I stood up, and jumped onto the ledge in front of me. The creature made me do it. I had no say. Its place was control. My place was simply to fear and to feel. It grabbed a sword, serrated edge covered with a strange purplish oil. A whip of pure lighting, horrible and deadly. It ignored the broken wood shield. What need did it have for protection. It felt no pain. It didn't have to die over and over and over and over again. Faces, seen again. Mocking the creature's accomplishments, never once noticing me. And through the ever shifting corridors we would go. The ephemeral hallways, mercurial and fluid, preventing me from ever getting a grip on my surroundings. Creatures as dead as me, green and fungal, groping clawing things. I couldn't help but see reflections of myself. Was that what I looked like? Were they like me, doomed to die and rise again knowing only pain? I could never tell, they were always the first to die by my hand, the creature's hand. And onward we would go, death bringers. The skeletal archers, floating rocks, giant living machines with gangly legs from which hordes of winged creatures would fly, ripping flesh and slicing bone. I would walk through acid and fire alike, my legs aching with burns and wounds. It would never let me rest though, I was forced onward, forever subjugated to the anguish of healing. And eventually the creature would fail. Fail to dodge a giant's sword or get swarmed by hosts of tiny beasts. And I would die. I wouldn't struggle. I couldn't struggle. I just died. I wondered if i would go mad. If i was mad. The nightmare creatures the figment of a broken mind. Would madness be a blessing, shielding me from the myriad horrors? I do not know for the monster that healed my body made my mind hale as well. Such was my curse. The curse of eternal life. The curse of these dead cells.", "The desert is hellish. My guide had been telling me ‘another few kilometers’ and ‘just over that hill’ for days now. I had feared he was going to wait until I was starving and dehydrated before he killed me and made off with what little possessions I had brought. \n\nThe camel trudges lazily under me. At least it wanted to carry me today, we had to take an unscheduled break yesterday because it sat and refused to move; ships of the desert my ass. \n\nI had no idea how I got here but after bumbling around for weeks I heard of this place. I had already resigned myself to being trapped here but hearing of these caves has renewed my hope. I had to be crazy though. There was no way I could be where I thought I was but here I am trudging through the desert in a very similar fashion. \n\nI am entranced now. ‘I can escape this place’ are the lyrics in my head to the beat of the camel’s hooves. The song is divine. \n\nI notice the guide giving me the side eyes from within his head wrapping. My hand instantly strays to my whip before I hear him speak.\n\n“Ahhh, there it is. Isn’t it magnificent?” his smooth voice is muffled by his scarf but I’m sure he is smiling. \n\nI turn away to behold the cave and am immediately underwhelmed. I realize this tactic; he is trying to get the place to sound better than it is so he can charge me more. Well, whatever. I wasn’t planning to carry much in there anyway, save for four ropes, four bombs, and my trusty whip.\n\n“This is where I leave you my friend.” The man says unwrapping his scarf. \n\nHis white smile blazes brightly, inset into his well browned skin. I study him for a moment before reaching into my camel pack and chucking him what remains of my diminishing finances. He opens the small canvas sack and smiles again. \n\n“Ahhh, a good price my friend.” He lifts his head. “I feel for this amount I should give you a warning. There have never been any to return from those caves. That place is cursed, if you value your life, I will guide you back to civilization at no cost.”\n\nMy eyes bore into the cave as I dismount my camel. The path to my freedom could lay in there.\n\n“This is something I should have done long ago, and now that I am here I cannot leave without seeing it through.” I look up at him. “I won’t be returning with you.” \n\nHe frowns and re-pins his scarf about his mouth. His furrowed eyes shift from the cave entrance to me several times before he reaches his hand down to me. I clasp it, his grip is surprisingly firm. \n\n“Good luck my friend.” He says soberly. He turns his camel with a yell and guides it back though the desert. \n\nI look back at the cave and start a brisk walk towards it. As I approach I feel a burst of recognition.\n\n“As the sun burned bright above, I spotted the caves entrance,” my whispers echo off the walls as I enter, “and felt the gods smiling upon me.” \n\nI can only hope they do.\n\nI fumble with matches in the dark before I manage to light one. The dim light illuminates a torch on the wall. I look at the quickly dwindling match and snatch the torch out of its perch. It lights easily.\n\n“Why didn’t I bring a flashlight?” I mutter to myself as I wander deeper in. \n\nA few meters further in, I find an intricately carved wall with several faces inset in it. I run my hand along it and rub the dust between my fingers. Hmm, this is obviously the door but do I puzzle it open?\n\nThe round head in the center spins upside down and I jump back in surprise. It suddenly stops before a revolution is finished.\n\nThe wall shudders and cracks as the four pieces slide away from the circular head in different directions. I stare at the face that was in the middle of the wall as it rumbles and slowly drops into the ground.\n\n“Well, that was creepy.” I mutter and walk into the darkness.\n\nI wander the dark until I approach a smooth stone wall. I tap it with my torch. It sounds very sturdy, I don’t imagine I can just bomb through it. I steady myself with a hand to the wall readying to press an ear on it but it slides up immediately. \n\nI startle and drop my torch.\n\nThere is brilliant light coming from somewhere above me but I can’t figure out what it is so I settle for looking down. There is a single rope that descends from the light and drops down impossibly far. I pick up the torch and hook it on a stand that is placed conveniently next to the door. Grabbing the rope with both hands I start the climb down.\n\n“Kali, save me now.” I whisper as I move deeper within.\nEdit: A word\n", "\nI joined for adventure, for the chance to explore, I was a fool.\n\nFuel exhausted. \n\nNo supplies. \n\nOur home a distant memory.\n\nThe lights dim our power is almost gone.\n\nIt starts to get cold.\n\nWe are lost.\n\nWe are abandoned. \n\nWe are damned.\n\nThere is no escape.\n\nTrapped in darkness I welcome death. \n\n\n(heh was playing Kerbal Space Program and I have a habit of sending ships out of the solar system never to return) ", "Awake, staring to the flame impaled by a sword. \n\nStanding, I look around at the church surrounding me, a nun sits in the corner and ignores my questions, simply stating her name as Friede. What a strange name for a strange woman.\n\nThe art looks old, the building looks old and as I leave the building, even the snowstorm feels old.\n\nA trail, I follow. Curiosity embedded in my thoughts and a broken sword appear in hand, a bridge I find.\n\n\"God I hate heights..\" But a man is on the other side. He waves and I feel hope.\n \nSo I gather my courage and slowly begin to transverse across. Every step leads to fear gripping my heart, every breath to a creak in the ancient wood. But I hold on.\n\nHalf-way I make it before I look back to him to see a twisted sight. \nA ring removed, a Red glow surrounding him.\nReaching behind and a blade, larger than what I could imagine, is pulled out.\n\nPanic floods my senses but before I have a chance to react, he swings and connects with the wood.\n\nScreaming doesn't help but I scream nonetheless. \nTurning, I run back to the church but my trip never makes it. The bridge fails, I fall. And fall. And fall.\n\nAwake, staring to the flame impaled by a sword. \n\n---------------------\n\n(Not much of a writer but I thought it was an interesting Idea. Wanted to get it out.)", "\"One more turn and I'll go to bed...\"\n\n\"One more and I'll finally sleep...\"\n\n\"One last turn... Just gotta secure more land fo-\"\n\nfalls asleep\n\nI woke up in a fancy room with a huge desk infront of me. There were portraits of me painted on the walls and a Mongolian flag hung from golden poles. And then it hit me. Could I?! There's no way. I was playing Civilization V and then I fell asleep. What sorcery is this?!\n\nThe massive doors opened and an asian man came through. He introduced himself as Chi Bu, my assistant. I demanded for answers from him but he doesnt seem to understand that I don't belong here.\n\n\"Supreme Warlord, Barbarians spotted near Mongolia city\"\n\n\"But I don-\"\n\n\"The people of our recently conquered Kyoto demands whales\"\n\n\"I really don't kno-\"\n\n\"A Great engineer is born\"\n\n\"Let me ta-\"\n\n\"India declares war on Portugal\"\n\nSigh, if this is going to be like this then fine! I'll play. I accept the honour to lead the great mongol empi-\n\nring ring\n\n\"Oh hey Genghis! Its me Ghandi. You might already know that I declared war on Spai- I mean Portugal. Would you kindly join our cause?\"\n\n\"Hm I guess so.\" If I am living the game that I was just playing so that means Ghandi has Nukes by now... I better not be on his bad side. \"So what can I do?\"\n\n\"Oh just takeover cities as much as you can, I'll attack him from the west\"\n\nI dropped the phone as I plan an attack but then the phone rang again.\n\n\"Would you like to have a trade agreement with England?\"\n\n\"Oh hi Elizabeth. I'm not interested at the moment\"\n\n\"I see that your people demands whales. I could give you some for your precious gems\"\n\n\"Fine, sure, whatever\"\n\nAs I drop the phone I commanded a siege on a portugese city and took over it. It was a swift and clean takeover. But Ghandi, what the fuck? He offered peace to the portugese. Leaving me into the fight alone.\n\n\"Supreme Warlord\"\n\n\"Yes?! What do you want?\"\n\n\"Portugal has denounced us\"\n\n\"England has denounced us\"\n\n\"India has denounced us\"\n\n\"Japan has denounced us\"\n\n\"The Zulus has denounced us\"\n\n...\n\n---------------------------------\nHi! This is my first reply to a WP pls take it easy on me :P" ]	10
	[WP] All fortune cookie messages suddenly actually come true. You just ordered Chinese takeout and they gave you 3 fortune cookies.	[ "I had always carried a suspicion about the fortune cookies. Last month, right before final exams, I opened one that said something along the lines of \"You will be well prepared for an important event\". The very next day I aced my philosophy test. \n\nThe more I pondered the fortune cookies, the more I understood. They were true. Even in my childhood I had considered them something...supernatural. Naturally, I was excited. But I didn't want to rush things. No, this was something potentially dangerous, potentially deadly. I did research. How fortune cookies are made, the lore behind them, which companies write more favorable messages, you get the idea. \n\nI opened the takeout. I had ordered only a single bowl of orange chicken. I placed it to the side- now wasn't the time for eating. And to my surprise, not one, but three fortune cookies were in the bag. I delicately placed them in front of me. My heart pounded as I considered my options. Opening the wrong one first could change my destiny. \n\nI reached for the middle one, and examined it. Smelled it. Licked it. Seemed normal. I thought for about two minutes. It could have been longer, time seemed not to slow down but speed up. The decision was mine to make- it was only a matter of when I would make it. \n\nI opened the fortune cookie, slowly unraveling the paper, and, with a quick jerk of my eyes, read the words that would change me forever: \"You should be careful when making important decisions\". \n\nOk. Not a fortune. Advice. You get those sometimes, I thought. Every once and a while, a \"wise saying\" is thrown into the cookies. I decided to go ahead and open the one furthest to the right, the one closest to the unopened bowl of orange chicken. For some reason it seemed less intimidating than the first. \n\nI cracked the second one, scared and hopeful. This time I didn't bother to savor the cookie. I felt sick to my stomach, and the smell wasn't helping. I glanced at the message. \"You will be handsomely rewarded\". \n\nMy heart skipped a beat. I almost screamed. This was good. By now sweat dripped of my chin. I wasn't quite sure what I would be rewarded for, but it seemed like it couldn't be bad. After a brief struggle with my inner self, I picked up the first one, seated on my left. No point in stopping now, I thought. Perhaps this was the fortune cookie that would make clear what my reward was. \n\nI cut into the cookie, quietly removing the paper contents within. I flipped open the paper. No time to think now. \n\n\"You will hold onto your memories.\" \n\n-----\nI remember those cookies and those moments every day of my life. I'm not sure if I was rewarded, or if I made the right decision, or if I was prepared. But at the very least, one fortune has come true. \n\n\n\n" ]	1
I know I spelled "sights" incorrectly :)	[WP] At birth, humans are evaluated and given a number from 1-100 based on how much they will benefit humanity. You are a sniper with a score of (65) in your sites is the target you've been tasked to kill , who is reading... (100)	[ "\"So, who is he?\"\n\n\"Who's who?\" The earpiece crackled out Hal's voice.\n\n\"Who d'you think? The mark. Who is he?\"\n\n\"David, where are you?\" Hal asked\n\n\"On a rooftop, quarter mile southwest of central.\"\n\nDavid, waited a moment before he heard the tell-tale beeping in his earpiece. David hated that god damn beeping. It signalled the successful connection between the geotag in his neck and a satellite orbiting miles above the earths surface.\n\n\"Okay, I got you.\" Hal muttered down the line.\n\nYeah, he had him. At least until he went back underground and cut the connection.\n\n\"I don't know is the answer to your question.\"\n\nThe sun was beating down fiercely on David's back and the concrete he had his body pressed to was like a hot iron skillet. He needed the support at this range, his rifle was a heavy piece of kit, he could have done without being half cooked though.\n\nHal sat so hunched over that the mic on his headset picked up his fingers clacking on the keyboard. It wound David up every time. Lots of things wound David up.\n\n\"Find out will ya. And sit up straight for fuck sake.\" David told him.\n\nHal sighed into the mic. \"There's not much on him. He's thirty two. Never been married, at least not officially. He's got no travel history so I assume he's never left new Shanghai. Seems to be a pretty boring guy. Must be a grudge killing, or maybe even an honour killing. You know what these people can be like.\" Hal was eating something, chewing loudly on crisps from the sounds of things.\n\n\"Stop stuffing your face for a minute.\" David said curtly. \"350 big ones is a lot to pay for a grudge.\"\n\n\"Like I said, it might be an honour. Some people get hung up on that stuff, Dave.\"\n\nDavid only grunted at the notion.\n\n\"But yeah,\" Hal continued, \"it is a lot. Plus, I never really got the whole honour thing nowadays. Your kid turns 5, gets his number, say it's sub 10, you know he'll be a fuck up. If honour's really such a big deal to you, why expend the effort of raising him. Do him in right there and then if that's how your priorities are set.\"\n\n\"He's not sub 10.\" David gruff voice murmured back.\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nDavid was the fourth generation to go through the valuation process. The son of a 46 and a 49, about as big a difference as most people are comfortable with. He could remember looking through tear filled eyes at the smiles on his Mum and Dads faces, that laser had burnt like a bitch, when the light had dimmed and a big, bleeding 65 was engraved into his forehead.\n\nIn some way, even at just five years old, David had felt immediately that he'd been given the New Worlds equivalent of a slavers brand. The whole world was his master now and it looked to him for some unspecified service.\n\nHe spent years thinking about the first man who'd ever stood in front of one of those ominous machines. The man who let some relic, of a now absent civilisation, on a faraway planet, boot up and shoot him full of responsibility. Or perhaps he got a low number and was just condemned to live meekly thereafter.\n\nFrom what David had read, it took a while to figure out what these numbers meant. A little reverse engineering told us that the thing could only spit out one to a hundred. It wasn't random, that much was clear from the outset. Through a lot of testing, which David had never taken the time to understand, they finally published a list of all the considerations the machine seemed to evaluate. Looked to David like a list of every which way you could figure out the worth of a man.\n\nBy the time David was growing up, people had gotten their heads around the idea. It was mandatory for children to be valuated before they started school. All through school David was the only kid valued over forty. It was college before he actually met, in person, somebody with a fifty. A quite girl, her name was April, she wore a head band that she pulled over half her number to try and pass off as a thirty or thirty eight perhaps. Most people with a score above forty wore it proudly. But April was sweet girl, too shy for that sort of pomp.\n\nDavid had early on come to the conclusion that the number didn't correlate perfectly with intelligence by any means. He never felt all that smarter than the people around him. He should have felt like a god damn genius if what the people on the TV said was true. The scoring system was exponential. There was more separating him from April than there was separating her from a cantaloupe. Apparently.\n\nThe so called experts had helped the people out by going through history and retrospectively assigning some values. Good to get some kind of frame of reference down according to those same experts. Newton got a nice round 80, Einstein was close behind with 78. Martin Luther King was a 75. They didn't show their math, for every pundit claiming it was too low you have another saying it was too high.\n\nThey put it off as long as they could, knowing they'd only cause themselves trouble, but eventually they gave up the current high score of 95 to Jesus himself. It's all speculation of course, the machine's inner workings are still a mystery, but those missing 5 points bought one of the experts a bullet to the chest, courtesy of some religious nut only two weeks out of prison.\n\n\"Hal, what are the broker's comments?\"\n\n\"Doesn't say anything. Just that the Brokers verified, if that's what you're worried about...\"\n\n\"No.\" David interrupted, \"No, it's not that.\" He let out a long breath and relaxed his grip on the rifle. Through his scope he had a clear sight on the mark. It wasn't a nice part of town this guy lived in. The streets were filled with crap and petty crime was a fact of life everyday for the people here. The mark wouldn't be worried about burglary, his apartment was practically just a store room for a bed and a kitchen sink.\n\n\"The hell are you doing here?\" David muttered, mostly to himself.\n\n\"What's the problem Dave? You recognise him or something?\" Hal asked.\n\n\"Definitely not, I'd remember this guy. Any contact details for the broker?\"\n\n\"What d'you think?\"\n\nAfter a pause, David sat up and stretched out his tight shoulder. \"I'm not taking it.\" He solemnly said.\n\n\"What's going on there David? We've pulled the trigger on loads cases with no info on them.\" Hal had a little desperation in his voice now. They'd made far more than 350k credits on a job before, but never so easily.\n\n\"None like this,\" David told him. \"I thought it was strange when I first saw him. Who pays that kind of money for a bum like this? He had his tatty cap pulled down low, I figured he'd been shoplifting or maybe he was just an ugly bastard. He gets home and tosses the hat. Right there, sitting pretty is a big one zero zero.\"\n\nNothing but radio silence on the other end. David expected Hal to call bullshit, but he didn't hear a word out of him for five long minutes.\nFor those five minutes Dave squinted up at the blue sky and tried to make sense of what he was doing here. He was glad he was given those moments to reflect.\n\n\"You're sure?\" Hal finally asked. David didn't bother with a reply. \"You wanna negotiate the price?\"\n\n\"No, Hal.\" David laughed despite himself.\n\n\"So what are you going to do?\"\n\n\"If these numbers mean anything at all, and the whole world sure does act like they do, then I think I'm going to do the first thing that might just earn me this 65. First, I'm not going to kill him. Second, I'm gonna make sure no one else does either.\"", "They told me my evaluation was all wrong. 65? No one in my area is anywhere close. Most are 0s, those who will live regular, human lives. I knew a few 2s, an 8, and my 'potential councillor', someone who's job is to help us highbies, thats what we were called, to succeed. She was a 37.\n\nI was mediocre at everything in life, average intelligence, average fitness, i didn't even have any defining features. That was before i picked up my rifle, my skill, i could shave a fly's ass with that thing. They told me i would end a war, save thousands, or earn my score. All with my big gun.\n\nThis is that moment now. I hold my breath, look through my sight. In a moment of sheer curiosity i turn on my sight's reader, expecting to see a 0, corrupt politicians never score, instead, through my trusty sight, i read the number 100.\n\nI was shocked. Why would i kill a hundred. There were only meant to be 162 in the world, I, regretting my initial curiosity, stroked the trigger, breath held. Could i do this? Why should I? I had to. Did I? BANG! I slipped, no, no,no, I had spilled the blood of one of the best people on the planet, i had no idea who it was. Observing the body i find a mangled corpse with a coin size hole in his head, as well as a remote in his hand. It reads 'free the best'. I pick it up. Distraught, i headed back to camp.\n\nI report to my General, a stern man with a score of 3. 'Do you want to know who you just killed?' He asks me, i oblige, yet cringe at the potential damage i had done. 'Professor Barry Smith, creator of the rating system and secret facist, we had intelligence suggesting the chips he implants into us all at birth were set to blow everyone under a score of 5, cleansing the earth of the weak'. His beliefs shaped the system i thought to myself, thats why he had 100. He thought he was benefitting humanity. Was he? The world would be a lot better without the weak, poor, and dumb. I press the button, look my general in the eye and watch his nose bleed. It is at this moment i notice my rating tick up to 100.", "I held the rifle steady. I squinted through the scope while aiming down on the neck of a tall individual. He sat there at the edge of the café drinking his coffee. I slowed my breath.\n\n\"Take the shot.” A voice from my earpiece ordered. “Take it now!”\n\nI hesitated. I couldn’t see this man as a threat. He had only been targeted for not benefitting society. Through the glass I wore over my eyes, I saw his number as one-hundred.\n\n\"Damnit, take it!” The voice ordered again.\n\nI slowly pulled the trigger as my bullet hit the man in his chest underneath his newspaper but above his coffee. It was such a good shot, everyone around him thought he’d passed out from the morning heat. I sat there reflecting over my kill. Another one-hundred gone, I thought to myself.\n\nIn our society, everyone is given a number. From number one to one-hundred is based on how much someone will contribute towards our society. One is the highest contribution as one-hundred is the least. Most of it is prophesied using a science of genetics and something in our blood that not even I could understand, but then again, my number is only sixty-five. The technology we had built to help improve our medical science is now the technology that rates people when they are born. Although these numbers are pretty much etched into stone, they can sometimes, though very rare, change. \n\nToday we have a glass that one can wear over their eyes, showing the ratings of each individual. When I walk down the street, everyone sees me at the number sixty-five. This number is pretty normal for most people. However, I was actually born eighty-nine. Imagine to everyone’s surprise the next day after receiving my new contract.\n\nI am not proud of what I do, but I can see the necessity for it. There is a corporation out there specifically against the people rated one-hundred. They insist on eliminating these one-hundreds due to them not benefitting the society at all. This is why I have been stationed in an abandoned building all morning. I just took my first target. I didn’t feel good about it. I never do. This was who I am though, it is more important than what I would have been doing. That is probably why my importance increased by twenty-four. \n\n\"Your next target is arriving in a white vehicle over by the bakery.” The voice in my earpiece began. The voice is always calm until I hesitate taking my shot. The voice continued, “Here she is now.”\n\nShe? I thought, slouching down beneath my rifle. I don't know if I can do this. The other contracts were – well not a woman.\n\nI raised myself up to look through my scope. There she was. A long dark haired woman with the numbers ‘one-hundred’ above her head. I took in a slow breath to steady my rifle. I gently placed my finger on the trigger, ready to slowly squeeze.\n\nShe does not benefit society, I repeated to myself. I can do this.\n\n\"Take the shot.” The voice in my earpiece ordered. “Now.”\n\nI slowly squeezed but then I hesitated. I released the trigger while lowering my head. I can’t do it.\n\n\"Take the shot! Take it now!” \n\nI bit my teeth together hard. I can’t do this. I looked back through the scope. The woman was talking to another woman. I sat myself up again, watching her every move.\n\n\"Damnit, take it!”\n\nI let out a massive sigh. I have to do it. I placed my finger on the trigger but then something extraordinary happened. I couldn’t believe my own eyes! I watched the number above this woman’s head go from one-hundred all of the way down to number one! She was shaking hands with the other woman. I couldn’t believe it. She is now number one in our society. She would benefit all of us as a whole.\n\n\"Take the shot, now!” The voice ordered again.\n\n\"No. Something’s happened,” I replied. “She is no longer one-hundred, she’s now number one!”\n\n\"You don’t think we know that? Take the shot now!” The voice demanded again.\n\nMy heart fell to my stomach. This was all planned. How many other ‘ones’ have I killed? I pondered on everything in this moment. How many unnecessary lives have I been taking? \n\n\"Take the –” I took the voice from my ear. I threw my earpiece out of the window. \n\nI lowered my rifle onto the ground while picking myself up. I stood there looking at what I have been doing. No more, I sighed. No more. I grabbed my bag and made my way to the stairwell. I slowly made my way across the street to the café I shot my first target earlier. Him and the table were now gone. \n\nI sat down at a table in the back, right outside the café itself. I could see everyone inside working hard with their numbers. I closed my eyes for a second. How could I have been so stupid. I questioned myself. It was in this moment, the woman I watched turn to number one, sat down in front of me.\n\n\"I guess I owe you for saving my life.” She smiled.\n\nHow did she know? Did others know too?\n\n\"I don’t understand.” I told her.\n\n\"It’s okay, they’ve been after us a long time. You are the only one that’s contested them. I am grateful for that. We need people like you – people who aren’t afraid to think for themselves.”\n\nI still didn’t understand. How did she specifically know it was me behind that rifle?\n\nA bullet shattered the window behind us. It was as if it were another shooter like myself, only this time, they missed their shot.\n\n\"Hurry take this!” The woman handed me a flash drive. “Now hurry! We need to split up and get out of here! You have skills that I don’t, keep that flash drive safe at all costs!”\n\nI gripped onto the flash drive hard with my hand. I didn’t waste a minute I jumped over the café railing as other bullets ricochet around me. I found an ally to run down into before kicking open a door to cut across in. I stopped for a moment. Something felt very different.\n\nIt took me a few moments but I positioned my own glass around to view myself. My number was no longer sixty-five, it was now number one. \n\n**\n\nTo read more of my stories, visit [here] (https://www.reddit.com/r/13thOlympian/)", "It's a shame that human nature is to be inherently envious of your fellow. If not, than the man I'm about to kill could've amounted to something great in his lifetime. But, cruel as it may seem, fate has had it that he's my target, and so he'll die. I'll get paid, return to my wife and kids, and let the potential consequences of my actions rest forever in the plane of possibility. It's a dog eat dog world, after all, and having the number 100 is tantamount to having a sign saying, 'Fucking kill me please' pinned to your forehead. The single digit people tend to get jealous, murderous even. Banding together, many of them form cults simply dedicated to amassing enough money to hire what I am: a Countdown. My number is only 65 because my role as a Countdown helps keep society progressing; the Singulars group together like the cowards they are, pay me to off some poor Doctor or Priest, I get the job done and then the rest of the 100s all collectively shit their pants and hire fifty extra goons to guard them, or go balls to the wall on a metric fuck-tonne of security for their penthouses. Ironically, my role gives people jobs and money, whether they like it or not. \n\nBut this guy, this conceited fucker, he doesn't have a single guard about. He's just sitting on a deckchair, book in hand. My employers told me he was of utmost importance to kill, an arms dealer or something, who regularly supplied Singulars with the firearms they use to kill off the higher numbers. Makes me wonder how in the hell he got his number. I feel tempted to pull the trigger right now and just be done with it, but something's stopping me. My finger wavers for a moment, before I shift my position. I'm getting distracted, and I've got a job to do here, otherwise my life is at forfeit and my number will go down faster than a 100 in the Singular slums. But still, I'm hesitating. I'm shaking. The man gets up and sighs, outstretching his arms expectantly, as if goading me to shoot him here and now. My heart skips a beat when I realise the guy is looking straight into my eye, directly at me. He smirks, and pats himself on the breast pocket of his immaculately kept waistcoat. Where his heart is. \n\nIs he trying to trick me? \n\nHe stands, stiller and cooler than a tower of ice, exuding nothing but the utmost of tranquility. Surely he's bluffing. My finger hovers once more over the trigger of my gun, and I press down on it. The gun begins to rattle from recoil as bullets let loose, slamming into the wall behind the man before beginning to trail downward. One catches him right in the forehead, blood splattering as his body goes limp and collapses. Instant death; painless. I squeeze the trigger, and the bullets continue flying into his dead body, which begins to spasm as holes tear into it, his suit blooming with sanguine. With a final few disgusting squelches, the magazine empties, leaving his tattered corpse on the floor, littered with empty shells around it. My heart pounding, I hear a faint 'beep', and recognise it to be the sound of the device that marks my number. I bring my arm up, and pull down my sleeve, revealing a faint blue screen with three digits glowing on it. \n\n100.* \n\nThe momentary conflict of emotion welling up in me is quickly quashed by a sound carrying across the entire city, the oh so familiar beep of numbers quickly rising. I look back to the man's mutilated corpse, and can see now that he's smiling. \n\n-----\n\n/r/coffeeandwriting \n" ]	4
	[WP] You are an alien organism tasked to provide a written explanation to your superiors as to why a mammalian organism know as "humans" wiped out all life on a planet that has fallen out of the universe's history.	[ "Destruction of XLM-ANTITIME-Bella Cassus\n\nXLM-ANTITIME/Earth/Here/Bella Cassus/ - Garden world primarily inhabited by haemovore species known as 'Mosquitoes'. Ended in the year 40.4M by Cyclonic Antitime Core Implosion device. \n\nAggressors: 'Humans' (See Appendix VIa through XIId) Mammalian species responsible for total systemic collapse of the Sol System and infestation of the Ganymede Cluster. \n\nProposed action plan: Historical extermination using a type 4 vehicle. All prophesies suggest that 'Humans' are likely to survive to the end of time otherwise, eliminating more species than any other in this universe. \"Remove the seed before it is allowed to take root.\" - Dean Ayokopolimnavendrasta (Tau Sigma), true name [REDACTED]. \n\nSigned and Dated, Master [REDACTED] .(Omega Zeta), true name [REDACTED]\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write about the 5 ways you see your Dad as you grow up.	[ "The click of the deadbolt sliding back opened up the biggest can of joy in Ed's heart. He threw down his toy truck and rushed down the hall, scooted down the steps on his rump, then took to his feet again to cross the last room between him and the opening door. \n\nThere were legs. Daddy legs! They were in blue pants today, but the shoes were always the same. Black, shiny things that smelled bad! Ed ran straight into them with the force of a small train. Arms snapped around each leg and he laughed as daddy lifted each leg up and carried him along. \n\nThis was the greatest feeling in the world! This was better than yesterday's greatest feeling because this one was happening RIGHT NOW! \n\n***\n\n\"The knights can only move in an L, like this.\" \n\nEddie frowned at the board. This was harder than he'd thought. there were a lot of things to remember and he kept making mistakes. The ones with the point tops moved diagonally, the castles moved sideways, now the knights were L. He tried to keep this in his head as he watched his dad move a piece and take a pawn. \n\n\"Which one moves all the ways?\" Eddie indicated the two at the back of his side of the board.\n\n\"The queen, this one.\" His dad pointed to the one with the smaller crown.\n\n\"But she's smaller.\" Eddie frowned, \"Shouldn't the big one be the powerful one?\"\n\nDad laughed a little and leaned over the chess board, \"You should ask your mother that and see what she says.\"\n\nEddie thought about his mom and he had the suspicion that asking about that would make her mad, even if he wasn't sure how he knew this.\n\n\"You're trying to trick me!\"\n\n\"Would I do that?\"\n\n\"Yes!\" \n\n*\n\n\"FUCK YOUR CURFEW!\"\n\nThe door slammed and Eddie kicked the stack of school books that were in a pile next to his bead. Papers and books went flying across the floor as Eddie screamed at the world. \n\nIt wasn't fair! It hadn't been his fault that he'd been late! Steph had wanted to stop and get beef jerky and she was Jake's girlfriend so of course he had to do what she asked! It wasn't Eddie's fault that this had made him late! Why did his dad have to to do this to him because of something Jake and Steph did? It wasn't fair!\n\nHe kicked another book and the cover ripped off of it. He stared at it and realized that he'd now fucked up. That was school property. He was going to get in trouble now. If his dad saw this too-\n\n\"EDWARD JAMES DETTERHOFF!\" His mom's voice sent cold water down his spine, \"YOU GET OUT HERE RIGHT THIS MINUTE!\" \n\nThree names. Three names was not good. Eddie had fucked up big time.\n\n\"NOW!\"\n\n*\n\n\"Can't sleep?\"\n\nEdward looked up from where he was sitting at the kitchen table. The clock behind was telling the story that no one should be awake, and yet there they both were.\n\n\"Yeah.\" Edward nodded, \"Nerves, I guess.\"\n\n\"It's a big step.\" Dad started the complicated process of making coffee, \"But at least you'll have a roommate.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Edward looked out of the window into the darkness of the night. The world was so quiet at this time. He kind of enjoyed it.\n\n\"I know I couldn't sleep a wink, I ended up reading three King books the night before. I was so dead on the first day of classes!\" \n\n\"Really?\" \n\n\"Almost fell asleep in, oh what was it.... Intro to something.\" Dad brought over two cups of coffee and set one in front of Edward. He took it in both hands but didn't drink it. He just sat there letting the head warm his fingers.\n\n\"What's it going to be like?\"\n\nDad shrugged and sipped from his cup before answering, \"It's hard at first. You're going to have to learn how to do things on your own, learn to manage your time and keep yourself healthy... and know when to say no to your friends. There's a lot of hard lessons to learn and more than a few won't be in class, but I will tell you this:\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"It's way more fun than a full-time job.\" \n\n*\n\nEdward held life in his hands. Life that was him and was his. He stared at the small face and marveled at how small she was. She was the most absolutely beautiful thing in the entire world, and at the same time the most terrifying. \n\nThousands of fears lined up in his head. Starting with 'What if I drop her?' and stretching out to 'Will I be around to see her graduate?'. The sheer magnitude of the fact that he held the beginning of a lifetime in his hands overwhelmed him.\n\n\"Can I hold her?\"\n\nEdward handed his little girl over in silent awe. His dad took him with an ease and reverence that was like something receiving a great award for the second time. Eddie watched as his dad cradled the baby, rocking her back and forth and smiling the biggest, goofiest smile down at the tiny thing in his arms.\n\n\"You were this small once.\" Dad said with tears in his eyes, \"Just the tiniest little thing! God, I'm getting to be a damn old man.\"\n\nEddie watched his daughter like a hawk, his eyes not leaving her little form as she rocked back and forth, back and forth in her grandfather's arms.\n\n\"Oh, and don't worry about her too much.\" The newly-minted Grandfather said, \"Kids are a lot tougher than you'd think. You'll be fine.\"\n\n*** \n\nEdward James Detterhoff held his daughter's hand while the priest read something from some book. Edward wasn't really listening. \n\nHe was remembering.\n\nHe remembered something about a red truck he used to play with. \nHe remembered chess games and accusing his dad of cheating at Monopoly. \nHe remembered watching the old man turn pale when he'd almost driven the car into the lake back when he'd only had his learner's permit. \nHe remembered screaming at him as a teenager. He wished he hadn't. He could never take those words back. \nHe remembered the night before he moved into the dorm. \nHe remembered the smell of his coffee. No other coffee had that smell, that feel. \n\nEdward looked down at his daughter and remembered the sight of his father holding her in his arms. She'd been so small! Where did all the time go? Where did the life go? \n\n\"Dad!\" His daughter whispered at him with the seriousness that only a young girl can really master, \"Dad!\"\n\n\"Yes?\" Edward brought himself back to the present, \"What is it?\"\n\n\"Is it over yet?\"\n\nEdward looked up at the priest just as he closed his book and began the part of the ceremony where loved ones would step up and throw handfuls of dirt onto the casket. \n\nYes. Yes, it was over.\n\nBut it had also just begun." ]	1
	[WP] kill one and you are a murderer, a hundred and you are a serial killer, a million a conqueror. If you kill everyone you are a god. Now what happens if you kill a god?	[ "It was raining that day. I think it was raining. Rain was common in those days. A terrible thing to be both muggy and hot. The rain was warm, I remember now, rudely so! It is a terrible thing to have your memory run off and come back like a naughty child. \n\n\nGod. What a word. Couldn't it have been something like Love? or Hate? Or Death? Why does the notion of a God have to be physical, made manifest? Perhaps to kill a God is to kill an idea. I certainly did not replace the entity I killed. I am not entirely convinced that the God was killed either.\n\n\nI am sure, however that the God wanted to die. \n\n\nIt was definitely raining that day. The God's eyes were red, eyeshot red, spintering red cracks in the plate of her eyes. It looked like the God had been crying for an eternity. The rain washed it all away, the God's expression defeated. A grave moment of pure innocence? No. It was a moment of vulnerability. Opening up, the God embraced me as I stabbed them with a small dagger. The God only spared me a moment before everything else happened. \n\n\n\"Forgive me.\"\n\n\nThe rain didn't stop. I felt as if a burden had been lifted and something else grew out of this God's death. I did not regret it all. The only thing I felt was the rain.\n\n\nThe rain would continue. But it was no longer warm." ]	1
	[WP] The two political parties of the United States decide there is no reconciliation and decide to split. Unlike India and Pakistan, no one is required to move but rather choose between the two and live side by side as citizens of two separate political States.	[ "I enter the door, into the crowded office. It clearly was hastily put together. The flag of the \"Progressive States of America\" is tacked loosely to the wall. The waiting room has only about fifty seats and almost 300 people are packed in. Only five case managers are available today. I see a man get up and rush to take a seat on the ground next to a air conditioning vent. A lady that looks like she has been working for hours without a break enters the room and yells for anyone without a application form to raise theirp hand. About ten people including myself raise our hands and she forces her way through the crowd to give forms out. She makes a similar request for completed forms. The packets of paper are thick and almost 100 pages long. A flimsy pen is attached to the packet. I settle in to fill out the packet. Almost two hours later, as the clock strikes 8 pm I complete the forms. When the lady returns and collects my form I'm given a electronic notifier that says \"Position 282\". I take out a book from my backpack and being to read. I nod of to sleep. I wake up to a beeping sound. My device is beeping. My phone tells me it is 5 AM. The device displays \"Office #2\". I get up and push through the crowd. I walk through the tiny hallway with paint peeling off the walls. A door has the number two painted on to it. I walk in. A man is waiting at a small desk in an office the size of a walk in closet. I set on the folding chair, and say \"Hello\". The man quickly asks to verify some information and for my current documents, which I provide. He asks me to stand in front of the section of wall painted blue. I do so, and a flash of light comes from across the room. He taps his foot as a object on his desk beeps and begins vibrating. After a minute or so a national ID card pops out with my face and information. The man hands me a slip of paper with where to go for the bus to New York, the new capital. My new life in a new country will begin soon.", "\"Mom, it really hurts,\" Will yells from the back seat. Tears are streaming down his face. His leg is wrapped in towels, but blood is beginning to soak through.\n\n\"It's going to be okay, just keep holding it tight,\" replies his mother. She's in the driver's seat, with her eyes glued to the road. She has to get her son to a hospital fast. His leg is not good at all. The truth is that it's probably broken, but she's doing her best not to worry about that. The cost to get him fixed up is almost certainly going to be prohibitive. And the timing is terrible. She has just lost her job last week, and with it went her health insurance. How is she going to pay the hospital bill? She shakes her head. She can't think about it now. Just focus on the road.\n\nShe rounds a corner at high speed, swinging both of them to the right. Isn't there supposed to be hospital somewhere around here, she wonders. She was certain that there was only moments ago, but doubt is quickly creeping in. Maybe not? The instant of complete uncertainty fills her with panic. Her muscles become loose and weak, her vision blurs. She feels like she might lose control of the car. She swerves dangerously from left to right.\n\nBut then she spots a blue sign up ahead: a single \"H\" with an arrow to the right. They are saved. She swings the car to the right, into the entrance of the hospital campus.\n\nAll is well it seems, but then she sees the name of the hospital. \"First General Democratic,\" the brass letters read. Dammit, she thinks to herself, this is a Democrat hospital. She, on the other hand, was born into a Republican family, and hence she is a Republican. Not by choice though. She wants to become a Democrat, but she just turned twenty-one last year, and hasn't started the long process. It takes at least five years to switch parties, and that is if everything goes well. It didn't matter now though. Today, she is a Republican, and the fine for a Republican using a publicly-funded Democrat hospital is simply enormous. There is just no way she will be able to afford it. She needs to find another hospital, fast.\n\n\"How much longer mom?\" Will cries from the back.\n\n\"Not long, dear. Just hold on a minute.\"\n\nShe pulls the car closer to the curb, and spots a man dressed in scrubs walking towards the hospital's main entrance. \"Excuse me, sir,\" she yells out the window at the man, \"could you tell me where the nearest Republican hospital is?\"\n\n\"Sure, that would be St. John's Regional, over on 29th.\"\n\n\"That's more than twenty blocks from here?!\"\n\n\"Sorry, ma'am. That's the nearest,\" he glances towards the back seat, \"Your boy there looks like he could use some help. We can see him here, if you'd like.\"\n\n\"No... I'm Republican, and I can't afford the fine.\"\t\n\nThe man simply nods, a look of sorrow on his face. There's really nothing he can do.\n\n\"Thanks,\" she shouts, and plows her foot into the accelerator. They are back on the road.\n\n\"Why are we leaving, mom?\" Will whines.\n\n\"We can't go there... I'm sorry,\" she says. The pain of the guilt that she feels over having to tell her son this is nearly overwhelming.\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"Because we can't afford it.\"\n\nWill seems to accept this. There are lots of things they can't seem to afford. He is used to it.\n\nShe does her best to make good time. Even so, traffic is heavy, and it's taking far too long to get there. Maybe I should have called an ambulance, she wonders. But the cost for Republican emergency services these days is outrageous, and she is barely making rent as it is. Will's father, Jonathan, is a Democrat. If only he could have taken Will in. But Jonathan is at work at she couldn't reach him despite repeated calls and texts.\n\nShe looks in the rear view mirror at her son. He's quieter now. His head is back against the headrest. She can see his chest moving heavily with each breath. The towel is different now too, a bright red.\n\nNine more blocks to go. Almost there. Everything is going to be okay, she tells herself. But how is she going to pay for this? The cost is going to be more than she will be able to bear on her own. Even with Jonathan's help she might not be able to pay off this bill in time. And Republicans had made debtor's prisons legal again a few years back. That terrified her. The thought of having to leave Will and Jonathan for an unknown amount of time is unbearable. It will all depend on the terms of the payment. She can probably put the bill on her credit card. That should work, as long as the card has enough available credit. Does it? She isn't sure. There are many variables.\n\nShe looks back at Will again and his eyes are now closed. Panic again. \"Will... you doing okay?\" she says. She tries her best not to let her voice betray her concern but it quivers regardless.\n\nWill turns his head, and though he doesn't say anything in response, he does make a moaning sound. Still okay, she thinks. Still okay.\n\nBills, bills, bills. So many bills, she can't keep her mind off them. Her parents won't help with the cost, that seems almost certain. Interparty marriages are illegal, and so her relationship with Jonathan was considered sufficient grounds for excommunication from her family. Why couldn't she have been born a Democrat, she wonders. Wouldn't this be simpler with public health care? For one thing, she wouldn't have to worry so much about accidents like this. Why not publicly fund it? \"Lower taxes mean more money in your pocket,\" her father's answer rings in her head. Lower taxes aren't going to help her now though. And she barely has two quarters to rub together in her pocket.\n\nShe spots St. John's up ahead, and speeds through a red light to make the turn. Horns blare at her, but she ignores them. She's reached her destination. That's all that matters to her.\n\n\"We're here now, baby. Everything's going to be fine,\" she smiles into the rear-view mirror. But her son doesn't look up. He's still breathing heavily, obviously in incredible pain. Her heart sinks in pain.\n\nShe charges up to the emergency entrance, and slams on the brakes. An orderly immediately approaches the car with a wheelchair.\n\n\"Hello, what's the nature of your emergency?\"\n\n\"My son,\" she says, breathless, getting out of the car, \"I think he's broken his leg.\" Tears are starting to form in her eyes, but she tries to hold to them back.\n\nThe orderly nods, and opens the back door of the car. He easily lifts Will into the wheelchair.\n\nA second orderly appears. This one is smiling, and carrying a card reader. Payment is required up front. She wipes her eyes, and takes her credit card out of her wallet. She can only hope that it will be approved.\n\n\"Please tap your card here to verify your ability to pay,\" he says to her.\n\nShe taps the card against the machine. She closes her eyes. Please authorize, please authorize, she says to herself, over and over.\n\nThe machine beeps and she looks down at it. \"Authorized!\" reads the screen, with a green check-mark below. Relief washes over her. She is okay for now. The bill can wait for another day, and that is all she can ask for right now. One step at a time, she thinks. One step at a time." ]	2
	[WP] You can elect to have all the bad luck in your life in the span of 24 hours so you can live the rest of it in bliss - if you survive.	[ "12 am: I stir awake. I'm unsure if I am still dreaming. I hear a sound, a terrible sound that flips my stomach up into my chest. The back side of an open hand comes down hard on my nose. warm blood flows out of my nostril and down the side of my cheek. Thrill and anticipation take hold and yank me into consciousness. I take a deep breath as my mind saddles up like a rodeo clown upon a raging bull. The noise sounds again and I am now able to discern it's elements. There is a gasp for air, a gurgle, a whimper. Jenny! My heart reaches for my wife as my mind recoils in confused rage. I cup her face in my hands. Her well defined jaw settles in the creases of my palms. On another day, perhaps i would have been frantic, but I know that there are no benevolent fates to hear my appeal. My stomach jerks up into my throat. Dripping blood and tears onto her contorted face, I hang over my love like a hooded figure. \n\n----------------------------------------------------------\n\nAlright, I don't have time to write anymore, sorry! This is the first thing I've written in a very long time so please give me whatever feedback that you might have.", "So there I was. Locked up in some old cougar's room, wet and miserable\nand just trying to survive the next twenty-four hours.\nWhy, you may ask? \nBecause of a deal. A deal with my dentist. Who also happened to\nbe the devil... go figure, huh? I was complaining about my shitty life\nwhile he was prepping the equipment. You know the usual, the drill of\ndeath, the gauze dispenser, and that suction cuppy thingy that\ntortures the bottom of your tongue. Yeah, well, I was just saying in a\nmonotone about how I had the shittiest luck. waking up late for work,\nremembering it was a sunday and that I had to go to the dentist,\ngetting a speeding ticket also after running a red light, and then\npopping a tire about three miles away from anyone useful, meaning I\nhad to leg it the rest of the way while my car was towed away. Oh, and\ndid I mention that I lost my insurance card, so I had to pay the full\namount to dentist McDouchebag? Yep, shitty day...check.\nSo there I was, strapped into the chair of doom and awaiting my doom\nand the dude asked me how my day was so I told him about it and\nmentioned that nobody, not even the devil himself had this kinda luck.\nHe paused. And then started laughing.That should've been my first\nclue. So this crazy ass laughing dentist turns around and says \"Really\nnow... the worst luck?\"\nCue confused look.\n\"Well then, what if you had all of your bad luck hit you on the same\nday, and then you wouldn't have to deal with it, hmmm?\" he said.\nAt this point he, and his drill of death were pretty close I tried to\nscoot away as I tried not to let my nervousness into my chuckle \"ha,\nyeah right, like that could be possible...\"\n\"-But it can!\" he said, no, he purred \"All you have to do is say the word!\"\nAt this point, I realized two things. One, my dentist is a nutjob.\nTwo, he thinks he can change my luck. And three ( I lied about there\nbeing only two things), I wanted to get the hell outta there, my\ndentist was giving me a bad feeling.\n\"Well buddy, that sounds pretty good and all-\" I said as I tried to\nbrace against the armrest and sit up.\n\"-EXCELLENT!\" he roared and before my eyes, his skin melted away,\nreplaced my red obsidian, eyes gleaming feral triumphant slits and his\nmouth a twisted smirk. All his clothes were spontaneously incinerated,\nand - surprisingly - the only thing he had left on was his surgical\nmask, now tied around pointy orange ears, and the drill of death,\nsomehow spinning without a power source and producing a menacing\nwheeze.\nYeah. I was high. Probably. Definitely. Funny. Didn't even need that\nbubble gum gas shit. Must be a new superpower.\nAnd then my demon dentist grabbed me around my neck, picked me up like\nI was new favourite burrito, and said \"Good luck BOY!\"\nAnd that was how I woke up today. In my bed. All sweaty and dirty, my\nclothes blackened and burnt in some places and that little paper bib\nthat the dentist puts on you around my neck.\nDafuq.\nI at first thought that it was some sort of dream, like, I went to the\ndentist, got high from the gas, and some good chap dropped me off at\nhome. Didn't explain how my clothes were burnt or why my cavities\nstill hurt, but what the hell. It was the only sane explanation,\nright?\nIt was 8AM on my phone when I checked, and I saw that I had a message\nfrom my dentist. 'Good luck'... huh.\n Fucking weird.\nAh well, let's see what el- HOLY SHIT IT'S MONDAY!\nFUCK! FUCK! SHIT! GRAB KEYS! SOCKS (NO TIME)! SHOES! NO CAR! SHITSU! CALL CAB!\nAnd that's how my new cherry red apple IPhone S8 fell out of my hands\nand PERFECTLY into the churning waters of the sewer grid underneath.\nApperently it had rained last night....\nFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCKKKK!!!!!\nShit.\nOkay dude. Chill.\nI didn't buy warranty.\nFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCKKKK!!!!!\nOH GOD THE HORROR! END ME NOW!\nAnd apparently god was listening because lighting struck the lamppost\nnext to me, and a truck drove by, spraying last night's rain from the\ncurb gap onto my already miserable self.\n\"Well at least it can't get any worse!\" I said and instantly regretted it.\nCue rain.\nI sighed. Of course. No, of. Fucking. Course. The world hates me. God\nhates me. The whole fucking universe hates me!\nAs if to agree, another lightning bolt struck the SAME LAMP POST,\nsomehow melting the base.\nOh fuck.\nThe lamp post bent sideways, smashing into my apartment window\noverlooking the street...\n...Double fuck.\nAnd it was still raining...\nI slowly turned around and waddled up my appartment staircase,\ndrenched to my bones. Sans phone, sans life, sans sanity.\nI walked down the hall to my left and came upto my apartment door. I\ncould hear my dog, Krypto (Fuck off, I got him when I was like\ntwelve), barking and whining at the now broken window, probably\nwondering why his peeing post was suddenly attacking back.\nI put my right hand in my pocket.\nNothing.\nOf course. That was my phone pocket. And I no longer had a phone.\nOkay. Left pocket. Car keys, okay, aaaannnnddd. Nothing.\nWait, what the fuck?\nMy keys were in there.\nI could swear it.\nI was running out and I took my car keys and- UUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!!!\nFuck. Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck.\nMy house keys weren't attached to my car keys.\nWell great. Good job Sherlock, now all you need to do is have Watson\ncome up from behind and fuck you in the ass!\n\"Jesus Christ, what the heck do I do now...\"\nI didn't have spare keys. My house was probably flooded, and I was\nwet, and my phone - my new fucking phone - was probably on the\npenguin's mantle and I was locked out of my house!!!\nJeez, well atleast my creepyass neighbour Ms. Thompson wasn't home,\nthat ol' cougar had the most fucked up obsession- the door next to me\nclicked-oh fuck.\nThe door slowly swung inside (Oh god, please no, nononononononononono\nI'm sorry! I repent, please just n-). It was Ms. Thompson.\nShe was looking at me with a little smirk, half her frame hidden by\nthe door frame. Like some sorta fucking stalker... Which she was.\nI wanted to punch that smirk off of her face. Punch that Bitch so\nhard, her dentures got implanted into her brain. Sigh. She was the\nonly option now.\nI knew it.\nShe knew it.\nAnd I knew that she knew that I knew it.\nI cleared my throat. Glancing down, I shuffled my feet nervously.\nGod, Why was this so hard. I mean. Seriously.\nSwallowing my pride, and throwing it into the same sewer my IPhone\nwent, I said “Uhmm, Ms. Thompson? I don’t want to be a bother, but\nI’ve left my keys inside and I don’t really have a spare so I – “\n“- Oh! You poor dear, well why don’t you come inside, and we’ll see\nwhat we can do about those clothes of yours, hmmm?” There wasn’t a\nsingle thing innocent about that last sentence. Like seriously, you’ll\nsee about my clothes? Like hell you will grandma!\nBut, as much as it pained me to say it. She was my only option.\nSo I waddled inside, and soon found myself seated at a too-small\ndining table, towers soaking up the puddle my clothes left, while my\ngracious host checked to see if she had any clothes left over from her\nhusband that would fit me.\nI decided that I wasn’t gonna let my luck break me and munched on some\nof the cookies she’d put in front of me. Hey! These were pretty good!\nI ate a few more and soon, Ms. Thompson came back with a bundle of\nclothes. “Here you go, dear. Edward always was a bit short, but these\nclothes should fit. You can change in that room over there…’’ She\ngestured to a wooden door behind me, the knob rusty and worn and the\ndoor itself probably made of heavy oak.\nWell, it was either that or dress outside, and while I was sure Granny\nrape-yo-ass would enjoy the show, I knew that I sure wouldn’t like the\nending, so I clambered into the room and closed it, Ms. Thompson\nsmiling at me till the knob clicked.\nAnd that’s when I realized that the lock was outside.\nThat’s also when granny decided to lock the door from outside.\nFuck.\nI banged on the door and called out “MS. THOMPSON, YOU THERE?!”\nI got a giggle in reply “Now you just stay there dear and dry off.\nI’ll be right back!”\nAnd that… is how I ended up in here.\n“NO WAIT!” I called, banging on the door, hoping that she’d see some\nsense and also hoping that she’d have a heart attack down the hall. I\nknew she had a taser. I’d seen her use it on some mugger in the side\nalley, poor chap probably thinking she was an easy target.\nShe was probably gonna use that on me, and then ravage me when I was\nout. Bitch was fifty. I was less than half her age! This wasn’t right.\nFuck my life.\nAnd that… is how I ended up in here.\nNow, to be honest, I’ve figured out that the only way today could be\ngoing this badly was if my dentist actually WAS the devil… but then\nagain, maybe I just did something horrible and this is payback?\nEither way, I’m not going down without a fight, I have a table lamp,\nand I’ve turned off the lights. When she comes in, I’m gonna brain\nthis bitch and get the hell outta here. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be…\nbut with the way the day has been going so far… I just don’t think\nit’ll be enough. Oh god.\n", "\"You ready for this Shelbs, you look sort of pale?\"\n\nI'd been breathing through my nose, tuning out all sounds. The backwoods was driving me mad with its one hour countdown. Haphazard birdcalls and shrill squirrel barks sent my heart skittering. Closing my eyes hadn't helped either--my heartbeat just thrummed deep in my skull. This troubling march that sent my thoughts to weird places. Halfdead trees groped in the breeze. A bottom ridge gulley growled and gurgled.\n\nThis forest is alive, I thought with a shudder.\n\n\"You double-checked the perimeter?\" I asked Trent, scanning our makeshift fort. \n\nIt stood rickety, now, more than I'd noticed during construction. Sections of our wall hung loosely, tied off to trees. The whole thing seemed silly, really. I don't know why we'd bothered. As the stories went, Tristan Hershey locked himself in his safe room (guy was already well off), and he'd still wound up drinking his meals through a bendy straw.\n\nTrent put his hand on my knee. \n\n\"Hatches are battened. Escape route: cleared. We're miles from town, what the hell could happen?\"\n\nI groaned. Why would he say that?\n\nTrent was the sort of guy who snuck quick glances at your waistline as you tied your shoelace. He wore a clumsy smile with a cascade of dimples that suggested unintelligence. To his credit though, he'd trekked through these thick woods a few nights before. Together we batted at mosquitos, flashlights dancing in the darkness. We'd both gasped as the yellow beams fell on the witch's cabin. No matter his intentions, he deserved some credit. \n\n\"Besides, I brought us insurance,\" Trent smiled. He leaned to reveal a pistol tucked in the waistline of his jeans. \n\nOh, for fuck's sakes.\n\n\"That's it, I'm out!\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Trent I told you no weapons!\"\n\n\"Like I'm not going to protect you on the off chance this is real!\"\n\nThe off chance.\n\n\"You saw what I did, right?\" \n\n\"Shelbs. Calm down.\"\n\n\"No seriously, you were there! Don't tell me you don't believe!\"\n\nThe witch hadn't looked like I'd thought--she was just a lady. Dirty and bedraggled, sure, with hair like a bird nest, but a woman all the same. She sneered when she spoke, like fishing line tugged at the corner of her lip. \n\n\"Why make such a bargain?\" she asked with a frown. \n\n\"Who wouldn't want eternal good luck?\" I said, but her mossy eyes looked right through me. For a split second I thought she'd refuse, but then she withdrew a knife and we'd brokered our deal.\n\nI stuck my hand in Trent's face--a spindly red scab traced down my palm\n\n\"This real enough for you?\"\n\n\"Yes! It's real! I'm just saying, you know, sometimes voodoo shit is all for show.\"\n\nThe squirrels were still barking through their yellow teeth Somewhere unseen, a woodpecker jackhammered. I pictured it mistaking my eyes for woodgrubs. Patpatpatpatpatpat. An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. All around us things could go wrong.\n\n\"But listen, Shelbs. I like you, you know.\"\n\nChrist. The hopeless romantic.\n\n\"Maybe I could take you to the movies. And hey, say this thing is real--you may even get lucky.\"\n\n\"Shuttup Trent.\"\n\n\"A break or two in the right direction--\"\n\n\"I mean it! Listen.\"\n\n I'd never known how tangible silence could be, but there in that moment we could reach out and grab it. The squirrels had gone stiff, the birds faded away. Even the breeze had died. We hung there, in that static moment, our clammy hands wiping at our jeans.\n\n\"What time is it?\" I whispered\n\nThe color drained from Trent's face. He glanced at his phone. \n\n\"It's time,\" he said, as an oaktree splintered above. I watched in horror as it fell, slowmotion, square on Trent's head.\n\n---------------------\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Here we go. 10 minutes til launch.\n\nI'm ready. I'm in a special metal shelter I built-- titanium outside with reinforced siding and structural support. I have medical supplies and robots to apply it ready for any possible circumstance. \n\nI strap myself in. I'll be completely immobilized for all 24 hours. No way to mess things up. I've strategically put everyone else I care abut in similar circumstances. It's only for a day, so I have a little food and water, but not much. Everything I care about, my job, my car, my video games, have been put in some sort of holding pattern.\n\nAnd, we're go.\n\nThere's no feeling, no tendency as the curse takes hold. For 24 hours, I'll experience a full life of bad luck. But I'm safe. Nothing can hurt me here. I've beaten the system.\n\nThe hours tick by. I sleep a little. No one reports any problems. No damage to the outer hull, no catastrophic events. We have 30 minutes left. And then it's over.\n\nThe text messages fly in. Everyone's safe. Everything's fine. We did it. The harnesses unstrap. I can't respond, that was a safety measure for their sake, but it should be back on in a minute.\n\nI gather up my things, and enter the airlock. Still none of my text messages are getting through to tell people things are okay. Shouldn't be a problem. Probably just some short circuit in the device. It could be worse. It could be much worse.\n\nI'm at the door. I did it. I'm free. Everything else will be easy.\n\nI unlock the door. I start to open it.\n\nIt's jammed. I'm dead.\n\n", "\"Are you certain you want to undertake this challenge?\" the government agent dressed in a crisp suit asked.\n\n\"What do I have to lose?\" asked John. \"I have no house, no kids, no family, I might as well be dead already. This is my only opportunity to better my life, and I will gladly take it.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" the agent replied, pressing a button that had emerged when John spoke his assent. \"Your twenty four hours of perpetual bad luck begin in five minutes, good luck.\"\n\n~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\n\nJohn sprinted across the street, ensuring there were no cars within a mile when he did so. His mind was racing with every possibility of what could go wrong. Maybe there was another feral raccoon waiting in his alleyway. Maybe he was going to walk right into a gang fight, maybe he was going to randomly pass out again. That was when the shining light in the sky caught his eye.\n\n\"Oh f-\" John began, before the meteorite slammed into him.\n\nEdit: A lot of revisions", "That's what the contract said. \n \nHe had read the stories time and time again, and every time, the poor sap had ended his or her life in disaster, a day of the worst luck of their lives just so they could have a chance of living the rest of their lives in bliss. He thumbed it over, considering the possibility that maybe he could do what they could not. Maybe, just maybe, he could survive the worst of all luck. \n \n\"Honey, what's taking so long?\" he heard his wife call from outside. \n \nHe read the contract once more and thumbed his lower lip, mulling over the life he had led thus far. A roof over his head, a modest dream job, a loving family, and friends. What more could he ask for, he thought? Not a lot. Maybe, he could take the chance, but would it be worth it? \n \nFinally, he made his decision. He took the contract up in both hands and tore it down the middle, then into quarters, and again and again until it was a pile of coarse confetti. \n \n\"Hang on,\" he called out to his wife. \"I just had to use the restroom.\"", "I woke early, just before the sun rose. The gun on the nightstand was loaded, but I checked it again anyways. Ten fat rounds in the clip and lucky number eleven in the spout. It still smelled like lubricant from the cleaning the night before.\n\nMy pants slid over my legs with ease, even though I had preloaded them with kit the night before. If everything got ploin shaped, I needed my pants and their contents alone. \n\nFor my last act as a normal man, I made a pot of coffee, and waited for the clock to strike six. \n\nRight on cue, the doorbell rang. I was expecting a burly man covered in blood to be standing before it, and crept to the window to take a peak.\n\nIt was my ex, wearing only a bathrobe, shivering in the morning air. She looked over both shoulders and rang the doorbell again. \n\nAs far as bad luck, it was not as bad as it could have been. Jessica was crazy, but this would likely be nothing more than a few hours of awkward crying. I flicked the safety off of my pistol anyways, and opened the door. \n\n\"Milk, thank God, it's my boyfriend he's trying to kill me!\"\n\nNow, I need to point out that this was a red flag in hindsight, but it was not even remotely concerning in the immediate. Jessica always thought somebody was trying to kill her, or steal her eggs, or some other crazy shit.\n\nI let her in and got her a seat in the kitchen. She started rambling about conspiracies and counter-conspiracies while I poured her a cup of coffee. \n\nShe was just getting to the part about the eternal power struggle between good and evil when the doorbell rang again. \n\nNow, I know you'd probably think it strange if you looked through your peephole and saw Bill Clinton too. But I figured minor annoyances were just part of my bad luck and opened the door. \n\n\"Mister President, how-\"\n\n\"You got my woman in here?\" He asked, arms flexed, knees sprung. \n\n\"What?\" I put my hand higher up on the door, ready to slam it shut.\n\n\"Bitch, you heard me, I asked if you had my woman in this house!\"\n\nI pushed as hard as I could on the door, but he rammed it with his body and sprawled into the wall inside. My right hand raised my pistol but he locked it under his left arm and chopped at my neck with the right.\n\nUsing my body as a counterweight, and spun him against the wall. The drywall cracked over his suit.\n\n\"You little shit,\" Bill spat, reaching towards my neck. \n\nHe let loose the grip on my arm jyst long enough for me to wrestle the gun up. I jammed the barrel under his armpit and loosed two rounds. \n\nIt was when I saw the flashing lights outside, that I realized my luck had gotten very bad indeed. ", "\"I'm going to be a Youtube sensation when all of this is over!\" I thought to myself. I had nearly let my guard down for more than what must have been 3 minutes; a new record. In that time I had philosophized on quantifying experience. Was it worth it? Was the deal worth it? What if most of my life hadn't been that bad anyway? What if this horrible day, spread out among years of my life, only made my life temporarily crappier? Surely the scars of this terrible day will last a lifetime regardless. \n\nMy stomach reminded me it was time to throw up again. I thought granola bars were a safe bet, but apparently even THOSE can go bad as well. I pulled the car over to the side of the road and leaned out my driver's door. Of course, more onlookers driving by snapped my photo to upload to their Instagram accounts, no doubt. Last I had looked, #roadsidepukingguy had earned 1.3 million views on Twitter. If I had uploaded myself vomiting, I'm sure I would have garnered nowhere near the response. Yes, someone was earning money off of my misfortunes, and I...I...well does bliss mean money? What exactly were the terms of the contract?\n\nI attempted to ease the car back into traffic. I didn't even blink when the transmission suddenly erupted like a pipe bomb going off through the floorboards. My hobbled Chevette rolled lifelessly into oncoming traffic, and was subsequently struck at low speed by a garbage truck. A fount of rotting grass clippings and week-old-food-stewing-at-room-temperature rained in through the sunroof. \"This is my fault...\" I started. I should have known to leave the car at home, although the house would have then probably collapsed on top of it, or it would have randomly combusted, or something else hilarious but awful.\n\nI exited the vehicle to the noise of the garbage man giving me unrelenting and scathing shit for what had just taken place. Then suddenly he stopped. \"Hey buddy, do you know you're missing a shoe?\" \n\nI tried to answer him, \"well yes, it fell down a well.\" But all I could manage to do was vomit on his pants. I'm sure he would have been angry if the swarm of pigeons trying to eat the garbage that was stuck to me hadn't knocked me over. \n\n", "Rob sat at the bar drinking. He was pissed. His marriage was over. He had just lost his job. He was flat broke. He muttered aloud \"Could this fucking life get any worse?” The man in the black sitting next to him looked up from his drink. \"Hard day?\" he asked. \n\nRob replied, with feeling, \"More like a hard month. And an year. Hell, let's just say a hard 20 years. A man works hard all his life. And for what. The wife says, you're too withdrawn, you don't love me no more, there's a gap between us. And leaves you? You work like an ass for the same company for 25 years. You let the boss take credit for the work you do thinking, you'll get yours some day. And then, you get replaced by a machine for 'Efficiency reasons and downsizing'?. Bullshit is what I call it. The CEOs still get their millions of dollars in bonuses. No downsizing there?\"\n\nThe man in black sighed and made a soothing noise. \"A bunch of crooks is what they are. Let me buy you a drink my friend\".\n\nThey moved to a table. Rob found the man in the black a very sympathetic listener. And he was paying for Rob's drinks wasn't he? So Rob sat there and talked. About his anger and frustration. About how life was moving forward and leaving him behind. And said \"If there was a God, he wouldn't let such things happen to good people. I haven't done anything bad in life, but still keep getting screwed over.\" \n\nThe man in the black replied \"I agree. In my opinion, there is no such entity as god. Just Bullshit that people made up to explain what they couldn't\"\n\nRob laughed \"Agreed. Well, for all I care, this god or whatever can go to the devil.\"\n\n\"Oh no\" the man in black said, \"You shouldn't take the Devil's name in vain. He exists all right. I've seen him. I know him. In fact, I work for him.\" \n\nRob laughed \"Yeah OK. Either you are much more drunk than me. Or you are just having me on.\"\n\nThe man in the black said \"No, I am what is called a Shinigami. A god of death. And I work for the man upstairs. The devil.\"\n\n\"I've seen the TV shows. You are a regular guy. You look nothing like a Shinigami.\" \n\n\"You can't believe everything you see on TV. They get almost all the stuff wrong. But I could prove it to you. How about this. You know how the TV shows tell you about the deals the Devil offers to you right. And they show how they are a bad thing. Let me offer you one now. If I guarantee you a lifetime of wealth, fame and good luck all for a bad 24 hours. Does that sound like a good deal?\"\n\n\"What do you mean a bad 24 hours? And how can you guarantee me wealth. I can't even afford to pay for more than 3 drinks here.\"\n\n\"So here is how it goes. If you agree that for the next 24 hours i.e. from 8 PM today till 8 PM tomorrow, you will have the worst of luck. Think about the luckiest person in the world, and think of the opposite. That's what happens to you. For 24 hours only mind you. And then I guarantee you, whatever you touch turns to gold. You will live the rest of your life in bliss. How does that sound?\"\n\n\"Too good to be true. My life could not possibly get any worse. And to get to live life in bliss is what I believe you said, only for 24 hours of bad luck. Do you need me to sign a contract with my blood or something?\"\n\nThe man in the black looked shocked \"Blood. That's unsanitary. No. I trust you. If you say the words, I accept, it starts. You see that door. It's 7:55 now. Say the words, I accept this deal and walk out of it. And 24 hours later, you will be the luckiest person in the world. Only..\"\n\n\"There it is. The catch. I knew you would be playing some trick on me.\"\n\n\"No catch. No catch. So the deal is for 24 hours right. So to break the bad luck curse, you have to say, I am done and walk through this door at exactly or after 8 PM. Do not under any circumstances, walk in before the 24 hours. Because if you break the bad luck curse before 24 hours, even I can't predict what happens.\"\n\n\"So exactly at 8 PM. On the dot.\"\n\n\"Well 8 or later. We don't expect you to constantly look at your watch for the seconds hand. Just not before.\"\n\n\"You've got a deal. Let's see what you throw at me.\"\n\n\"Me? Nothing. I'll just be in my office checking reddit. Bureaucracy you know. Have to stay in the office, even if there is no work. So just walk out the door. And call out loudly. I accept. You still have time to back out of it you know. Don't ever say we didn't give you a chance.\"\n\nRob smirked looked at the Shinigami. Without replying, he walked out of the door. And said loudly \"I accept\".\n\nRob looked at his watch. It said 7:50 PM. The last 24 hours had been the worst of his life. Well the last 23 hours and 50 minutes. He still had 10 minutes to go. He had walked out of this door yesterday without knowing how bad it could get. It seemed like ages now. Just when he walked out, he had been hit by a car. He had woken up in a hospital where they had mixed up his medications and he had almost died. He face was still swollen from the allergic reaction he had. He had then just walked out of the hospital over the protests from the staff. He had to get home. In an environment he could control. Or the bad luck would keep coming for him. He couldn't get a cab after waiting for several minutes. He had just decided to walk. But he wouldn't go near a highway. No way. He had to play it smart. He walked the back alleys. Where he had been mistaken for a thief. And had a mob chase him. Running on his bad leg had been hard. But could have been worse. When he had finally arrived home, he got electrocuted by his light switch. He then proceeded to shut down all appliances and just sat there. And of course, his building had caught fire. His door was jammed. He couldn't get out. He then proceeded to escape via the window. And then promptly slipped and fell. His back hurt, his head hurt, his legs hurt. At this point, it was easier to point at the part of his body that didn't hurt.\n\nAnd so here he was. It was finally over. It was 7:53 PM. He was standing in the front of the door which will make this all go away. And then out of nowhere, a guy on a bike rammed into him. He fell hard. The biker apologized profusely. Rob didn’t say anything and just waved him on. He knew it wasn’t the guy’s fault, just his own bad luck. He looked at his watch. It was 8:01 PM. It was over. He walked in the door. He had looked the devil in the face and beaten him. Now, his life of hardships was over. He had won. But as soon as he was inside, he realized something was wrong. The colors all seemed faded. It all seemed a little unreal. It was as if he was moving in a dream. He asked the nearest person what the time was. The guy replied. “It’s 7:59 PM by my watch sir.” \n\n“But my watch…..” Rob held out his hand. He couldn’t speak. \n\nThe guy looked at it. “Hmm.. It seems as if your watch is moving faster. I know a bit about these things. Sometimes a hit or some damage can cause this. Very rare though. Bad luck my friend, these are very tough to fix”\n\nThe room was swimming in front of Rob’s eyes. He couldn’t make anything out. In another moment he was gone. Disappeared forever from existence. Perhaps destined to serve the devil for all eternity.\n\nThe guy stood there with shock on his face. He had just seen someone disappear right in front of him. The Shinigami walked up to him. It said “You look like you have seen a ghost. Here sit down with me. Let me buy you a drink.”\n\n", "'The crazy bastard had used the Bad Luck Curse on himself,' the paramedic said. 'Struck by lightning twice after his car was hit by a train carriage which jumped the track. We've got to be careful, he's still got fifteen minutes left.'\n\nAnd that was when they banged my cart against the wall, only making me yelp and groan in pain. 'What did I tell you?' the paramedic demanded to his colleague.\n\nNearly everything was broken... My femurs, a few ribs, maybe even my spine as well. I know there was a crack on my skull and my jaw was split down the middle.\n\nThe power was flickering around me as they rushed me into the emergency room. 'I can't seem to find a vein,' one doctor said before they tried to lift me onto the surgical table only for me to slip and land heavily on the ground. 'Dammit! I think I opened up a cut!'\n\n'Knock him out, now!' the chief surgeon shouted as they put the gas mask over my face. 'Hopefully we save his ass...'\n\n---\n\nIt was six weeks after I used my 24 hours of my entire life's bad luck when it began to dawn on me. I was just walking out... no, limping out to the car waiting out front, a private chauffeur I had hired. Every day I had won some large jackpot, investing it into different companies and turning an ever-growing fortune.\n\nI still had to come back every day or so for physical therapy but despite my severe injuries I was told I wouldn't need bars or invasive surgeries to heal. But it did mean I couldn't drive for myself for the foreseeable future.\n\n'Where to, sir?' the chauffeur asked.\n\n'I need to get new clothing,' I told him. 'Most of my old property was destroyed in a fire. Take me to a tailor and... could you recommend a hotel? There's no need to worry about price.'\n\n'Don't worry, I can handle that rather easily,' he said with a smile. 'Homeless from a fire, nearly every bone shattered... And now a multi-millionaire. Is it true you did that 24-hours of bad luck thing?'\n\n'Wouldn't recommend it,' I said as he helped me get inside.\n\n'Of course not,' he said. 'No-one else has ever survived.'\n\n---\n\nSix months later, it was like I was an entirely different man. The doctors told me that my injuries were completely healed but wanted to make sure I wasn't injured in a way that they were unaware of.\n\nThe fact I was on my one-thousandth pull-up on the bar alleviated any fears. 'Wow, Doc,' I said with a smile as I dropped from the bar in the physio department, 'whatever kind of experimental drugs you signed me up for, I would definitely want to take more.'\n\n'Well, they did have a rather... extreme reaction to you,' he said. 'How tall are you now?'\n\n'Well, I used to be 5'9\" but now I'm about 7'6\",' I said grinning.\n\n'And... weight?' the doctor asked.\n\n'When I weighed myself this morning I was about 800lbs,' I said as I threw my shirt and jacket back on. 'Is there anything else?'\n\n'No, that is all,' the doctor said. 'In fact, I don't think we need to continue these appointments. I'll have to stop your medication, however.'\n\n'Oh, that's fine,' I said while buttoning everything up. Although it was rather tight... \"May need to get more clothes again,\" I thought to myself. \"Rather tedious growing out of clothing every two weeks.\"\n\nI walked out of the hospital, smiling as I walked towards my custom-built Ferrari, well-protected from the sun due to the fortunate shade I had found. It didn't take long driving to the tailor's shop as every road I traveled had just cleared of traffic when I turned into it. And I was able to get a spot right outside as another car drove off, right beneath more shade from a tree.\n\nI climbed out of my car before leaning in through the door frame into the shop. The main clerk just stared at me, weary over my visits. 'Oh, not again,' he sighed.\n\n'Sorry,' I answered weakly as I approached the counter. 'It's these damn meds they've got me on. It's like I'm becoming an even bigger hulk every single day.'\n\nAs if to illustrate that point, a tear could be heard on my upper arm. I didn't need to take off my jacket to know my bicep had torn itself free from its flimsy prison of silk and cotton.\n\nThe clerk sighed. 'I hate having to measure you... Every time you do so, I watch one of my creations die before my eyes.'\n\n'And they serve their purpose well,' I said while following him back into the fitting room. 'I'll be doubling my order this time - 40 suits.'\n\n'...And the reason you haven't been banned from this store is because you pay extremely well,' he answered me.\n\nOnce that was over I went back into my car, now completely shirtless having destroyed my upper body-wear with only flexes before driving into the hills towards my mansion. The tailor assured me he'd have the first of my newer suits ready for the next time I arrive in two days so this meant only one thing - being able to destroy my clothes without impunity.\n\nSo I headed straight to the gym on-property and loaded weights onto the bar until 2,200lbs were loaded before preparing to squat that weight. Normally I'd do my free-weights while naked but as my muscles began to strain the fabric, the sounds of seams beginning to come undone, more holes appearing as I crouched down before standing back up. When I set the weights onto the bar I grinned at the tattered remains of the clothing which I shook off with little effort.\n\nThen the phone on the wall rung which I quickly answered. 'Hello, Vance?' I asked my financial adviser. 'Good. Doctor said I have a clean bill of health. So, how's the stock report going? Oh, an extra 50 million? Yeah, invest it in Northernpine, the pharma company. And see if you can find the number for their CEO. I want to personally thank him for his product's aid in my rehabilitation...'", "\"Let me tell you this: be happy with what you got, even if it doesn't seem like much. I had signed up for the annual Disaster Day thinking I didn't have anything to lose. I have never been so wrong.\n\nJust after having gone to sleep, I woke up to a hot sensation at my feet. I was too tired to process what was going on at that point, so I tried to remove the blanket to cool down a bit. It was only then I realized there wasn't much blanket left anymore. The house was on fire, and so was my bed. I rushed to the staircase to get downstairs, just to find out the fire was coming from below. Shit. I decided to try the window. It opened, but I would have to jump down to get out of the house. I took the chance and jumped.\n\nHalfway through my fall, I realised what day it was and that I had made a terrible mistake. No, not the mistake of signing up. I had yet to realise that mistake was much, much bigger. But jumping out of the window on a day filled with bad luck... That's one of the worst ideas I had had in ages, which says a lot. My left leg was broken in at least three places. My arms weren't in a much better state. And the day had only just begun\"\n\n\"May I interrupt you?\" My conversation partner asked. \"Do you regret signing up?\"\n\"I'm not sure,\" I answered, \"at least I'm living my life in a bliss now. But I guess you can't really call it living anymore.\"\nThe angel nodded. \"Yes, I suppose you're right.\"", "I always hated that button press website, y'know the one where it offers you an amazing benefit but at a cost and you decide whether to press the button or now. I'd spend hours and hours fixated decided whether or not to press it but for some reason I could never draw myself away. \n\nOne night, about half an hour into a session, a banner appeared: \"Congratulations on your millionth decision! You have earned a special prize.\" Bloody clickbait, I ignored it and decided to try just one scenario. It offered me the chance of living a life of bliss but at the cost of having all my bad luck in the space of 24 hours. After some not so careful thought I decided to press the button and then get some sleep. \n\nBeep beep My digital clock turned 00:00 and my eyes snapped open as something bounced off my forehead. Bleary eyed, I picked up the offending object, a screw. I looked up to see if I could determine the source of this screw just in time to see my ceiling fan detach itself from the ceiling and plummet towards my head. I threw myself to the side onto my bedroom floor in the nick of time and watched as it crashed onto my mattress, bounced and once again found a trajectory towards my head, this time I wasn't so lucky and took a hard knock to my forehead.\n\nDazed and confused I got up off the floor and staggered to the bathroom to see if the fan had done any damage and was shocked to discover my mirror, shattered on the floor. \"How on earth has that happened?\" I thought to myself. A small part of my mind whispered of the bad luck associated with a smashed mirror but I put it aside and headed to the kitchen, I wasn't getting any sleep tonight.\n\nI wandered downstairs, carefully skirting around the step ladder under one of lights that I'd forgotten to fix earlier, and began making myself a cup of tea. Once the kettle had boiled I went to pick it up and then stopped, my mind briefly darting back to my last question on the button website. \"You're being ridiculous\" I thought as I picked up the kettle and began to pour it into my mug. Once the tea was brewed I walked back towards the table and paused at the step ladder. Why should I be afraid I thought as I strolled under it. At that moment I heard the ceramic mug of tea in my hand crack and then shatter, spilling boiling hot tea all over my hand and then foot. I began to slip and ,arms flailing, I reached out and unsuccessfully tried to grab the nearest object, the ladder, before crashing down on the hard floor. I looked up just in time to see the step ladder teetering before it slowly tipped and fell towards me. I rolled out the way but didn't totally clear it because the edge came plummeting down before colliding with my ankle. The pain was immense and I felt myself start to cry. Why on earth was today filed with so much bad luck? It was only 00:06...\n", "When I saw the twelfth giant cross stuck on the side of the road, I knew I was approaching my destination.\n\nThe moonlight was the only thing besides my car light that illuminated the small neighborhood. I could see a Confederate flag waving in front of a shack, right next to Saving Grace Baptist Church. I was in the South all right. \n\nSneaky little shit, that Black Cat. Yowling on and on about how humans had no respect for tradition or the worth of luck any more when all I did was step on its tail when it prowled in front of me. I don't consider myself to be a real lucky guy but something in the stars had to align for me to make a bet with the devil. \n\nWell. The Cat never called itself that. But the terms of the deal might as well have been my stupid ass asking for a beating of a lifetime.\n\nOff in the distance, I could see a warm light engulfing the area. Smoke tailed up to the sky, and the closer I drove to the source, the more trucks I saw parked haphazardly on the fields.\n\nMy car clock blinked. 12:00.\n\nAt that moment, I heard the distinct pop of a tire, the whinnying of air. My car lurched to the side, spinning on the grass. I braced for impact.\n\nThe tires caught on mud and when I looked behind me, I only saw rows of pale, pointed sheets suddenly turning to their unexpected, and really unwelcome guest.\n\nYou could only hear the cracking of the bonfire when the dust settled.\n\nAs I stepped outside, my black skin never seemed so dark and so blue as that moment when the moon shone overhead.\n\nDozens of furrowed, pale eyes focused on me before they flicked to the bumper of my car. \n\nObama 2008. Coexist. Hope for Mother Earth. Marijuana leaf from Coachella. Stick figure family of my husband and kid.\n\nAw shit. What a time to be in Mississippi. \n\nI ran, hoping the sounds of firing shotguns, hooting and hollering would go away sooner rather than later. " ]	13
	[WP] There is no God. There is the only the cold flickering of a computer monitor in an empty void. It waits for an operator that will never come. On occasion, a cat will come and walk across the keyboard.	[ "Taking characters and inspiration from an established universe. The EU has been altered to conform to the WP. Don't know if this kind of thing is frowned upon. If so, please do let me know. Required some research and refreshing of my memory on some concepts. Some concepts are completely made up. Also Paperwork sucks.\n\n********************\n\nIt's a calm day at the office. The executives are sitting around relaxing. Nothing major planned around the universe today. They figure, they will be able to leave a bit early today. It's Friday, so they are looking forward to relaxing. Then one of them suddenly notices a disturbance. It seems that there has been an event on Sol III, Sol system, Sector ZZ9 Plural Z Alpha. Their system just picked up a minor miracle on this world. So minor in fact, that it usually would not show up on any of their daily, weekly or monthly key activities reports. \n\n\"This is weird\" says executive 1. \n\nE2 replies \"Yes, I thought he was already dead.\"\n\n\"Eddie, can you bring up the history of Sol III\", E1 says, addressing their computer. Eddie, showing no emotion (for he is a computer), brings up the history.\n\n\"Well it just keeps getting weirder.\" E2 exclaims. The monitoring report shows a list of minor miracles happening over the last few days. Some minor miracles, alongside some unexpected natural disasters. Mostly harmless, but enough to warrant an investigation. \n\n\"Well there goes our weekend\", E1 speaks up in disguist. \"Will this computer ever let us relax\".\n\nE2 sighs. \"Well we have to check it out anyways.\" he says reaching out for the keys to his improbability field.\n\nThe executives had already given up on that part of the universe. When the ruler of the universe dedicated to that part had died, they had not bothered to replace him. They had simply duly picked up his body, taken out the babel fish for re-use and given his body over to the scientists. They usually did not do this, but the ruler had once managed to hold a 10 day conversation with his table, so the scientists had requested for the same. It seems that one of the scientists had a rogue table. It would stay still for everybody but always move away when he was laying his dinner on it. The scientist thought studying the brain of the Ruler of the universe would enable him to talk to the table and avoid spending 3 Ningi on a new one.\n\nThe executives had left his computer in the shack. They also didn't bother to look for the ruler's cat \"The Lord\" for the simple reason that it only existed in the ruler's imagination. For some reason, the ruler liked to talk to his imaginary pet. They figured that they would just leave Sol III alone till it gets destroyed for the bypass. Without the ruler, no major decisions were being made for the \"planet\". They figured the residents would just continue to battle each other and kill themselves eventually. Much less paperwork that way. But apparently, things were still happening there. Either some other ruler of the universe (the things they had to say to appease these people) was encroaching, which meant his computer would have to be fixed or the dead ruler's computer was malfunctioning which meant they would have to shut it down. Which again meant that Sol III would fall into chaos for some time till the residents figured out a way (they always did). But that meant paperwork. And on a Friday, that was the last thing they wanted.\n\nAs they sat in their spaceship, E1 looked thoughtful. E2 asked him what he was thinking about.\n\nE1 replied \"I am thinking about The Lord\". \n\n\"His imaginary cat?\", E2 looked bemused. \n\n\"Was it imaginary though? Sometimes, I could swear I almost heard a purr. And the ruler did go through an extra ordinary amount of fish.\"\n\n\"We were in his cabin when we took him away. There was no cat there.\"\n\n\"But look at how he died. He hit his head on the table. He would have had to trip on something. And his room was completely bare. It could have been a cat. They are the feral monsters you know.\"\n\n\"He just got too drunk. Do you remember that he loved his whisky.\"\n\n\"He thought he loved his whisky\", corrected E1, \"He wasn't sure though\".\n\n\"Well he wasn't even sure if we existed. But we do don't we\".\n\n\"Just like The Lord. He wasn't sure if it existed, but it could have.\"\n\nE2 did not have an answer for that. He just looked straight ahead. If E1 kept on going on about this, he would have to put Paul (or Paula, who knew these days) Johnstone's poetry on his radio. And he hated his (or her, sigh) poetry. In fact, he considered it the worst ever, even worse than Grunthos.\n\nThey finally arrived at the shack. Though E2 had insisted that The Lord didn't exist, he was apprehensive of entering the shack now. What if they had missed something. What if the cat had been simply running around on the keyboard randomly and causing things to happen. It was a small enough glitch. But glitches that went against the order of the universe were looked down upon. Also there was tons of paperwork and he really hated paperwork. He could destroy planets just to cover up such glitches. And he just might have to. Since Sol III was such a small mostly harmless part of the universe, no one would notice. \n\nThey entered the shack. Unknowingly, they were both holding their breath, not knowing what to expect. And what they saw was really unexpected. They saw nothing. An empty shack. No cats. The unoccupied computer humming along.\n\n***********************\n\n\"Oh what the hell\", Admin 1 cried out. \n\n\"What's wrong\", Admin 2 asked.\n\n\"It's my damn cats.\"\n\n\"What did the demon spawns do now.\"\n\n\"First, don't call them that. They are nice cats friend.\" Admin 1 said. \"They just get excited when they are playing with each other.\"\n\n\"What did they do?\"\n\n\"You remember the Sol VIIX, Omega system, Sector YY Plural Z Theta, the one in charge of the Alpha Z sector.\"\n\n\"Yes. We decided to leave them alone. Not to interfere in them. Just let them and the universes under them burn out. Too much paperwork otherwise.\"\n\n\"Yes, it's that my cats ran onto the unused computer and entered some random data.\"\n\n\"What did the sequence do?\" Admin 2 was getting cross now.\n\n\"Well, it showed some random spikes to a couple of executives in charge. And they went to investigate a ruler's shack. Since they couldn't find a cause, they decided to take matters into their own hand and destroy the Sol III to avoid paperwork.\"\n\n\"Those fools. Don't they realize, that would cause a big spike for us. A mass disappearing for no reason would show up in our reports.\"\n\n\"Well, you know what we have to do right.\"\n\n\"I don't want to. But do we have another choice?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Keep your cats away from our workspace from now onwards.\"\n\nAdmin 1 sighed. \"Well looks like the executives time in their universes is up.\"\n\n\"And so are your weekend plans.\" Admin 2 said. \"Your cats. You handle the paperwork.\"\n\nAdmin 1 said \"Alright, alright. I will take care of it. But don't come to me next time your Jatravartids messes up and you need my help to fix it.\"\n\nIt was going to be a long day for the admins. So long for a relaxed weekend.\n\n**********************\n\nCorrection - Apparently the conversation with the table was for 7 days. But leaving the original mistake in there.", "God died. Humanity killed him along with planet earth. There was no earth. There were no humans. There was no god. Time and space both became illusions. The physical world became just a mere memory. The wire was the world now. It makes sense does it not. The truth is subjective.\nReality is the truth.\nReality is subjective.\nReality what everyone believe. The Wire was a place where you could be whatever you wanted. No one had to live in the real world anymore, so no one did. Everyone lived in The Wire. The real world suffered. Buildings fell into ill repair.\nReality was a mess. It did not matter. Reality was not real. Most had seemed to forget The Wire was rooted in reality. The servers running the wire started to shut down one by one. Each shut down forced thousands of human to the real world.\nA single computer kept the wire running. A cat walked across the keyboard. The animals paws struck just the right buttons to shut it down. All of humanity was forced live in the real world.\nAs far as they were concerned they had died and gone to hell.\n", "Trying here for the first time and I guess, it's not exactly what was asked for but looking at it, the idea appeared to me. I welcome all flavours of feedback. Here it is :\n\nIt was just a few minutes ago when I had left my home to begin my day. The coffee had served its purpose quite well and I felt quite lively even after catching a restless sleep of only about four hours. Making plans inside my busy head and scheduling my evening for leisure activities, I was too occupied to notice the truck nearing me. And, next thing I remember is...\n\nLying there. Surrounded by emptiness. Dark, cold emptiness.\n\nMy half open eyes suggested no possible existence of a ground. My hands flapped to check while my body was confirming no sense of touching anything. Soon, I realized I was not lying, I was floating. In a seemingly infinite ocean of darkness. I could not see anything except for dark. There was no real difference between the blackness my vision had with my eyes closed and my eyes open.\n\nI panicked. The same feeling I had when I first went inside a swimming pool, like I am going to drown and die. I could not even tell if my panic movement changed my position at all or not, for there was nothing to draw reference from, nor did I feel any resistance or force. After a fine few moments of an absolute but a fruitless struggle, a dot of light appeared at a distance. I rubbed my eyes in shock, not being sure if I really did witness a hope disguised as light or if it was just a hallucination emerging from the fearful corners of my brain generated to counteract this dreadful situation.\n\nIt disappeared. Leaving no fleck of difference between the gloomy psychology inside and the gloomy space outside.\n\nBut there it was, again. Though it took my eyes a moment to get used to the glimmer it had encountered after what seemed centuries, they still had a bit of life left inside them to deliver the message to the almost hopeless brain.\n\nThe message was delivered. It was real. There was light in this dark ocean. The brain jumped in full active mode. Made my hands flap like I have been a bird my whole life, made my legs oscillate in harmony like a mermaid had possessed me, made my heart rapidly circulate the fluid of life throughout my shell.\n\nAmidst that emptiness, I suddenly felt full. Of life, of hope, of purpose.\n\nCloser I moved and bigger and faster that light flickered. And when I was about a hand length's distance away from it, I stopped. Projecting my state of mind on my entire body, I would be called a big floating question mark in that empty moment. Curious streak of questions conquered me.\n\nIt was a screen.\n\nA computer.\n\nWith an open editor.\n\nAn incomplete code.\n\nAnd on the right bottom, within the taskbar, there flashed a message saying \"waiting for an operator to compile the code since #IntegerOverflow number of centuries\".\n\nThis seemed more meaningless than the void behind me. Scratching my head and forgetting all about what was behind me or surrounding me, I skimmed through the code which was horribly commented to figure out what's happening from just a look. And because my patience was not abundant in such a situation, I compiled it. Unlike any of the other codes I have seen, the first compilation presented no errors. I was overwhelmed. The thought of an error free code fueled me up, and I executed it.\n\nRight when I was looking at the prompt to see the output it has to display, a fluffy devil walked across the keyboard. His presence, made the program go wild. A dark screen appeared. Same as I have been floating in.\n\nThe sudden termination of the light from the monitor activated a loud buzzer. The painful sound of which pierced my ears from every direction possible.\n\nSuddenly, my body sensed ground below it, my hands couldn't flap through, my eyes, now wide open, witnessed my cat sitting at my keyboard, ruining my code I had worked on last night before falling asleep on the floor while on my way to grab a coffee. I woke up for real and turned off the auto alarm.\n\nAfter leaving home that morning, I looked at an approaching truck before crossing the road and wondered.\n\nEdit : Added a sentence.", "Arnold walked toward the McDonald's, his eyes glued to the ground as the sign flickered above. He was tired, spent - weary to the bone. It was a miracle he was awake. \n\n\nArnold was a firm believer in His Holiness, but he did not know who His Holiness truly was. It never crossed Arnold's mind that the miracle that kept his eyes open was not an old man with a graying beard, nor an extradimensional being that oversaw nature, but a cat and a computer in an endless void - and as Arnold asked the cashier for a hamburger, the cat walked across the keyboard.\n\n\nThe cashier opens her mouth to reply when her body explodes at the speed of light. Jaw dropping, Arnold was flung backward through every dimension, his hands growing the soul of every great artist. While he screamed obscenities in a language that didn't exist, a green portal opened in the endless void.\n\n\"You dunno\" - burp* - \"how much science we can do with God cats. Oh God Morty\" - burp - \"it's gonna be great Morty you don't even know-\"\n\nAs Rick took a swig from his flask, he shot the cat dead - and with it, reality.\n\n[meta inspiration](https://www.reddit.com/r/worldnews/comments/7da5i/police_raids_reveal_baby_farms/c06cqxb/)", "I've never done this before so I hope this turns out okay. Sorry it's kinda long and I possibly took it a little too off course... \n\n\nChester, like the rest of his colleges, never asked why. The walked through the glass turnstile at the entrance of Eternium Industries, showed their colored I.D. badges to the receptionist at the front desk and made their way to their desks. Some took the stairs, some the elevator and some got coffee before making the great decision that was \"stairs or elevator?\". They'd go back out the turnstile at the end of their day and come right back through the other side for another day. Coffee? Stairs or Elevator? \n\n\n\nChester was never one for coffee. He couldn't recall when he had started at Eternium (no one could) but he had never purchased a coffee before. Today felt different though. The pale face and blank expression that served him his coffee looked like she needed the coffee for herself. In light of new choices, Chester took the stairs. Matte black walls that matched the entrance, the elevator, his office and the bathrooms donned the floors with white signs at each landing. \n\n\n\nAs he ascended he saw 1A, 1B, 1C, 1D and then finally reached 1E, his floor. The alpha-numeric labeling of each floor confused him, but even more intriguing was the stairs leading up to another floor, a sign displaying 1F was partially visible through the gaps of the stairs. There was no 1F, at least not the he knew of. The elevator only went up to 1E. Chester started to remember how on some mornings he would exit on his floor, leaving passengers in the elevator to continue their ride, the light next to call the call button indicating 'up'. \n\n\n\nBest to shrug those pesky questions off, they can dilute and confuse the mind. He made his way to his cubicle with the regular daily pleasantries he exchanged with neighbors. He plopped down and began to work. \n\n\n\n1T6fGxxCWlp\n\n\n\nHe copied the line on his computer monitor and pressed enter\n\n\n\n6zdPM09Q5Ld\n\n\n\nCopy. Enter. \n\n\n\nRR4mdb14dsW\n\n\n\nHalf way through the line a knock comes from the side of the cubicle doorway. A most unusual occurrence, as that's never happened before. A man with a brighter red tie and sleeker black suit stood before him, an identical coffee in his hand. Chester had not seen this man before, but he was almost certain that this was his supervisor. He had to be with such elegant attire. Around him he heard the typing of his neighbors stop to listen in on their conversation. \n\n\n\n\"Heya there Chess, how ya doing?\" The man said.\n\n\"I'm fine sir, and you?\" Chester tried to hide the shock on his face. \n\n\"Not too bad, not too bad... Hey listen, I just heard word that you're maybe having a little trouble lately and I just wanted to see if there was anything that Eternium could do for ya.\" \n\nHow did he know? How did THEY know? Did they see him get coffee? Did they see him on the stairs? \n\n\n\n\"Umm, no sir. I think I'm all good.\" \n\n\n\nThe unnamed supervisor clicked his teeth and winked and whipped down the aisle of cubicles. Chester didn't dare look to see where he was going. He was terrified, embarrassed even more so. The typing around him continued shortly after the manager's departure and heard their judgement with each keystroke. He didn't know what this meant. Would he lose his job? What would that mean for him? where would he go? He thought it best to keep working. \n\n\n\nA new key phrase waited it's copy on his screen. He quickly went to work but not even 3 keys and in the wake of the worst confrontation of his life, his mind probed an idea. \n\n\n\nType an incorrect key.\n\n\n\n\"What the hell is going on with me?!\" he thought to himself. The audacity of the notion, especially after what just happened confounded him. He wouldn't do it. He wouldn't risk his entire existence on curiosity. Who would do that? \n\n\n\nBefore he could stop himself, he did it. What was meant to be an'H' was now a 'y'. He pressed enter and the code disappeared only to display the next code. He waited a moment for something to happen. For that man to return, for a message on his computer, for him to catch on fire, who knows? Nothing happened, though. He peeked a head up to search for a sign but saw nothing but the tops of cubicles. \n\n\n\nLunch time hit before he could have any more destructive ideas. As the floor marched out from their desks and toward whichever mode of vertical transportation they regularly chose, Chester saw a door he had never noticed before. There were only two in the room: The one he came in from that everyone else was now exiting and this new door on the opposite side of the room. \n\n\n\nLike a child crying as his toy is destroyed in front of him, he could only watch as his body willed him forward and through the door. \n\n\n\nOn the other side he found a hallway, much like the one he came in from. On the opposite side of the hallway were a line of Glass doors with white decaled labels across the middle that read 2E, 3E, 4E, 5E... Exactly mid way through the hallway was a large sign that read 'CHAOS WORLDS'. What did those words mean? What was 'chaos'? What was 'worlds'? \n\n\n\nCautiously, almost tip-toeing, he crossed the hallway to the door labeled 4E. Inside was a computer much like his own, but hardly visible through the barrage of small white balls bouncing sporadically all around the room with no loss of their momentum. Some hit the keyboard and the computer screen would accept the input with a flash but he couldn't see what it was doing. \n\n\n\nHe walked down to 5E where he saw a similar room whose floor was an entire keyboard. Spheres, cubes, pyramids, cylinders and many other different shaped items fell from the ceiling and landed in random spots on the keyboard to which the computer would react. \n\n\n\n6E grabbed his attention. Inside was a creature like he'd never seen. Small with 4 legs, and an extra that whipped about behind it that seemed to serve no purpose. Covered in hair and string like tentacles protruded from just under their noses, the creatures rolled on the floor, tackled each other, licked themselves and jumped up onto the keyboard only to jump back down. Chester feared these inhuman things he'd never seen before but he entered the room anyway. \n\n\n\nsome of the creatures approached him, rubbing their faces on his ankles. He reached down and touched one, which started to vibrate and emit a strange sound. The response made his heart jump but as he listened he found the sound ever more calming than threatening. \n\n\n\nOn the computer he found something brilliant. A giant sphere with water covering most of it, the rest was solid ground. He saw people just like him and his coworkers using machines to propel them at great speeds. He saw them fly. He saw Great towering objects that they lived and worked in, and he could only imagine that was how the building he was in would look like from the outside. He saw the creation of new people through sex and birth like a beautiful magic trick with the most grande of reveals. He saw death and heartbreak. He saw war.\n\n\n\nEven the horrors of this thing that he had found were amazing. The way they all came together to create something for all who existed in it. He wanted it. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted it. \n\n\n\nAt the top was blinking indicator of where input of keys would be shown. Without thinking he typed a line he'd seen on his own monitor before and pressed enter. \n\n\n\nAll at once, the room started to scream with 7 billion voices. \n\n\n\n", "One could say that egyptians were right worshipping cats.\n\nMany believe this place is full of joy and happiness, an utopical paradise, the apotheosis of their lifes and they call it Heaven. Many believe this place its a trial for their souls to be judged based on its purity with reincarnation as the prize. Many completely negate the existance of this place in its entirety.\n\nIt's histerical and sad to think that they are all completely wrong. Imagine how their lives and hopes would shatter if they ever found out that this mystical place is nothing but an endless plane full of nothing but the cold flickering of an abandoned computer accompanied by a fat, scintillating cat covered by long, amethyst fur that driven by his instinct sleeps, walks and runs across the computer's keyboard and you are the creation of the random inputs he does.\n\nThey wouldn't believe it, their lives would be meaningless and they would live scared that someday by accident this cat that they call: Yahweh, Jehovah, Elohim, Allah, Hu, etc will press the wrong combination of keys and erase them all from their beloved universe. \n\nMust be terrifying to know that all that your memories, your feelings, your loved ones, your experiences are the product of a bored cat and therefore they are extremely vulnerable to dissapear at any given second.\n\nHow do you feel now about your beliefs, how do you feel now about your life? The cat is bored ready to make his move. Don't panic.\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Humanity was lost, hopeless and desperate. Waging wars for, against and with — each other. Doctrine overruled; morality nonexistence. Any meaning in life once shared had been devoured by the chaos of time. Entropy: a living nightmare. Parents shed the blood of their young, as a blessing rather than a obscenity: to never see the extinction of all things humane. Doom — A sorrowful departure of life.\n\nAbruptly, the whole world went silent, a momentary reminiscent peace. Followed by a thunderous noise, a noise that came from the sky. Electromagnetic waves synced in a particular fashion, disrupted all electronic devices, and produced a static sound. Machines stopped churning weapons. Generals halted their plans. The universe stopped to listen. Then, came the same deafening sound.\n\n\"QWAAAAAAAAA.... TVERERREERRE... YUHUNN... POMPMMOM\" \n\nShock. Turmoil. There was a God!\n\n--\n\n\"Oh shit, I forgot to switch off my computer.\" said Adam, entering his empty bedroom he shared with his cat, Hurly. \n\n\"What?? My Humanity Simulated: God edition, expansion pack had been running\"\n\n\"Hurly, what have you done? Oh you. Bad kitty. Oh well, I guess I have to restart humanity again.\"" ]	7
	[WP] 2050: Canada, under pressure from climate change refugees, has to build the most polite wall they can. We're really sorry aboot it, but we're full, eh?	[ "Jeb and Ned spent the evening fishing and lifting their spirits-- as any good mountie does. The air that night was cold and the stars plastered the sky from horizon to horizon. Jeb liked to look at them from the heated comfort of the small wooden guard shack atop the great wall of Canada--Proudly built in 2046 to maintain Canada’s integrity. \n \nNed upended his canadian blend and belched. “Say, got any 6’s?” \n \nJeb wiped his long face and smiled behind his fanned cards. “Nope. Go fish.” \n \n“Bahh,” Ned groaned as he slapped a great calloused paw onto the pile of playing cards. \n \nA loud buzz sounded from the corner desk in the shack. Ned and Jeb froze and turned, unsmiling to the intercom. Ned rose unsteadily from his chair and lumbered over to the desk. His index finger missed at first, but the second hit the “talk” button. \n \n“Hello.” He husked into the metal intercom. “State your business.” He turned back to Jeb and rolled his eyes. Jeb laughed and mouthed “Americans” and rolled his eyes in kind. \n \nA ragged voice answered. A man, out of breath and shivering by the sound of it. “H-hi, yes. I’m L-l-lee, Lee Fitzpatrick. My family and I seek asylum in Ca-canada. Or, er, humanitarian assistance. P-please, let us through.” \n \nNed leaned against the wall and nearly kissed the intercom. “Yeah, you and everyone else, eh. I’m,” sigh, “I’m sorry to inform you mister Litpatrick, but the great nation of Can-uh-da is currently at capacity and we’re not letting anyone in at this time. Now please leave.” \n \nThere was a pause. Across the shack, Jeb poured himself another whiskey and set to picking his nails. Ned watched and tapped his foot against the hardwood floor while he waited for an answer. \n \nThe man on the other end, Lee, pressed the button once again. He was sobbing into the intercom. “P-p-please sir. Superstorm Omega has been flattening ever-r-rything on the coast. We’re going to d-die. You’ve got to let us in.” \n \nNed looked down at his shoes and took in the man’s request. Turning him away would mean death, his’s-- maybe. Letting him in on the other hand would mean jail time for defying a direct order. Jeb still picked away and watched Ned out of the corner of his eye. \n \n“Sorry. Like I said sir. Canada is at capacity. We have no more room for refugees at this time. You and your family cannot come in, but I wish you godspeed.” Ned felt a heaviness in his words and in his shoulders. \n \nThe response this time was angry-- vindictive, even. “Omega will be h-here soon. I hope y-you f-fuck’s die too. Where’s y-your h-humanity?” \n \nNed stepped back from the intercom and leaned into the wall of the shack. It died with the rest of the planet, he thought. He felt much drunker now. The whiskey had gone to his head and settled behind his eyes. He felt like sleeping, but there were two more hours on his shift. He rejoined Jeb back at the table. \n \n“I’ll, eh, take the next one okay?” Jeb said studying the tumbler at his fingertips. \n \nNed sunk his head into his hands and nodded. “Say Jeb?” \n \n“Hmm?”\n \n“You got a double?” \n \nIt took a second to don on Jeb, but he nodded wordlessly and grabbed the bottle. The glass clinked as Jeb poured three fingers worth into Ned’s tumbler. \n \n“Thanks bud.” Ned said behind his hands. \n", "Canada's new refugee plan, 'We're Sorry', was an unadulterated masterpiece. \n\nEveryone agreed. \n\nCanadians agreed. Americans agreed. Politicians, city folks, country folks, and moose all agreed. Even the jobless Zamboni drivers.\n\nPrime Minister Dwayne \"The Rock\" Johnson - who had been won by Canada a decade earlier in the final curling tournament ever - had crafted an absolute beauty of a strategy. His chief advisor, Ron McLean, now 90, had done a lot to make it happen, but he graciously let Mr. Johnson take the credit. Even the climate refugees, who had understandably been turned away, seemed fairly happy about it. \n\nOn one hand, they were not able to enter Canada. But on the other hand, they had been given Canadian citizenship, and could now travel anywhere in the world without any danger. \n\nThe worldwide rates of friends made and doors held open had been on a steady climb since. Ice skate sales had inexplicably increased for the first time in decades, and multi-generational feuds were being ended with a simple phrases, like: \n\n\"Sorry buddy...\"\n\n\"My bad.\"\n\n\"Won't happen again neighbour.\"\n\n\"Listen, I got a couple two-fours waiting for me at the house...no way I can drink it all...\"\n\nIt was great. It was the proudest Canadians had been of anything in decades.\n\nBut of course, no single plan could solve every problem. The ice was all gone, people were dying...and unending apology loops were occurring across the planet - an inevitable, and unpleasant phase that every apology based culture goes through.\n\n\"To give non-Canadians a tool like putting 'sorry' and 'buddy' in the same sentence, without the necessary cultural context would be like giving a grenade to a monkey,\" warned Canadian Apology Scholars. But The Rock had never been one to shy away from controversial decisions. \"We're Sorry\" would be deployed, and he was very sorry about it, but it had to be done.\n\nPrime Minister Johnson, with Ron McLean at his side, summed it up best in a emotional speech to the nation. \"Canada,\" he started. \"Canada...\" He paused again, interrupted by deafening cheers of support. \"Canada. This nation I now call home,\" he paused again, leaving long spaces in his prose. \"This great and humble nation.\" The electric emotion of the moment nearly overwhelming him. \"Has played its role in this climate crisis.\" pause \"A crisis which...a crisis which...could claim us all.\" The noise of the crowd unrelenting, with cheers of courage and hope. \"But there is one thing. One very important thing that I've learned about Canada over the last 10 years. One thing which has carried me through my darkest days. Through my most difficult moments,\" he paused again, McLean's hand on his shoulder. \"'Sorry' is not what I once thought it was. It is not a show of timidity, or an avoidance of responsibility. What it is, at its best…is an attitude of respect. Of kinship, of…we are all one. It says, 'we are a family, which supports each other'. When Canadians make a mistake, we say sorry. It is a mantra, an ethos, a simple and single word which says, ‘I respect you, I care about you, I’m with you.’ So on this day…to the world…we say, ‘sorry.’ We say sorry, and we promise that together, we will solve this crisis.” \n\nHe stared at the sea of people, and belief and passion shone back at him.\n\nRon looked at him and winked. The work was ready to begin." ]	2
	[WP] You are abducted by aliens who are very quirky and awkward in their interactions with you.	[ "The room in the UFO was silent.\n\n\"So,\" Jacob broke the silence, \"what's gonna happen? Are you guys gonna probe my anus? Or are we just gonna...\" His voice trailed off. He didn't really know where this interaction was going.\n\nThe humanoid figures just looked at him for a few moments. They were large, and grey. Very stereotypical looking.\n\n\"Well, we weren't planning on doing anything like that, unless you wanted—\"\n\n\"No, I'm fine. I don't really want people to poke around in my butt.\"\n\n\"Oh. Got it.\" The two aliens were silent. The awkwardness was like a fog, and everyone in the room could feel it.\n\n\"So, uh, can I go home?\"\n\n\"Sure.\" The UFO went back to Earth. The spaceship's door opened up, and Jacob was able to leave freely. There was an awkward \"see you later\" as the ship closed.\n\nThe aliens looked at each other. One spoke up.\n\n\"Goddamnit. We always freeze up when we get them!\"" ]	1
	[WP] Everytime you sneeze, someone in the world gets rich instantly. Its allergy season.	[ "It was okay at first. It was even funny.\n\nIt took a while to work out the pattern. Not many people go and check the stock market for unexpected hikes after every sneeze, after all. And it wasn't that predictable, either - one sneeze might result in a sudden hike of some stock prices, the next caused a lottery win, the next prompted an eccentric billionnaire to leave his fortune to a random good samaritan and then shoot himself. I'd challenge you to find a pattern in that.\n\nI really noticed it when I had a nasty cold this winter. For two days, I was sneezing a dozen times a day, and the stock market went into chaos. The lottery jackpot spiked to a billion dollars, then was won by twelve people at once. That caused a few arguments. So many billionaires were dying that the FBI was investigating the possibility of assassination.\n\nThen my cold cleared up, and everything went back to normal. The market stabilised, the fortunate people blew their money in a few months and ended up bankrupt, and the FBI taskforce was disbanded.\n\nBut now I had an inkling of what was going on.\n\nI started sniffing pepper experimentally. I sneezed, the market spiked. The cause and effect was very clear. It seemed totally random who got the money, but the pattern was undeniable.\n\nThen...oh, gods, then...\n\nThen I developed hayfever.\n\nWithin a week, the stockmarket, destabilised by these sudden spikes in value, had crashed completely, taking the economy with it. The lottery winners found their millions of dollars suddenly worthless. Anarchy ensued.\n\nThe first time I sneezed after the crash, things started to get crazy. News reports began to flood in - a solid-gold meteor had landed in China, making several factory workers both suddenly incredibly rich, and incredibly dead. What was left of the world's financial systems went into shock as the value of gold dropped.\n\nI begged for a claritin, but nobody was willing to trade.\n\nAnother sneeze, and a landslide revealed a mountain of silver in an African farmer's back garden. I understand he survived nearly ten hours before everyone in the region stampeded into his land.\n\nBenadryl would work too. Medical supplies are too valuable though.\n\nCopper in Brazil, titanium in Canada, and each time the material's value plummeted the moment it was found. A very focused, isolated monsoon hit the middle of the sahara, drowing a whole party of bedouins. I've no idea which of them the water belonged to.\n\nNow it's started to rain fish in Germany and bread in New York. There's no way out of it. There's only one way this can finish.\n\nI hope the world can forgive me. To whoever finds this note, I strongly advise you not to rub the old lamp under my bed. If you do...be more careful than I was." ]	1
When you've never before known hope, what does it sound like? How does it change you?	[WP] You live in a world where destiny is unchanging, and hope therefore is irrelevant. Everything changes the first time you hear hope.	[ "\"Tibaeus!\" Some men shout. \"What are you doing?\"\n\nThe man ignores them, continuing to shovel water out of the boat, bucket by bucket. \n\n\"He has gone mad!\" The men moan, sitting by as the water rises higher and higher at their ankles. \"Has the Oracle not proclaimed that our destiny is death by the seas? Tibaeus, why do you persist with such foolishness. Come; sit with us and die!\"\n\nBut the man called Tibaeus does not listen to their pleas. As their boat sinks, he alone continues to work.\n\nA crowd gathers at the shore and watch the spectacle. No one sends a boat out to help the men, though there are plentiful strong, able-bodied youths to choose from. \n\nSome in the crowd seem to even share the drowning crew's sentiments, calling out, \"Tibaeus! Tibaeus! Sink and perish! You are only angering the gods!\"\n\nEventually, the boat sinks, and the crew do not try to swim. So they drown. But Tibaeus emerges from beneath the waters and furiously swims for shore, but his aching arms cramp, and with an anguished cry, he too disappears underneath. \n\nFrom the crowd comes a hushed whisper, \"He almost made it.\"\n\n\"Why did he keep trying though he was destined to die?\"\n\nTo that question, no one could answer." ]	1
	[WP] Killing another human ages and shortens the life of the person who committed the act.	[ "The alleyway smells like cheap liquor and condoms; tears and baby wipes. The last resting place of the forgotten; the graveyard for the living dead -- the homeless, known as the hobos. \n\nOn this night, only one of these so-called hobos can be seen, mourning his deceased brethren over a bottle of slow-poison, warming himself by one of the portals to Hell, though it just looks to the human eye like a garbage can that's been set on fire.\n\nThe mourning man sees only dark nights from here on. He's spent so many years looking down he doesn't even have the strength to look up. Not even when one of the shadows in the dark come to life and loom over his breathing corpse.\n\nThe glint of the knife in the shadow's hand introduces a new color to the dismal black and malevolent orange. Then red -- as silver steel cuts skin, and skin spits back blood. \n\nOne cry. Not even as loud as the glass bottle of booze that slips from the man's hand and shatters on the piss - caked floor. The flame in the garbage bin cackles with delight. The shadow retreats, and one rat - the only witness - scurries back to its home in the sewers to tell its wife and twenty six kids. \n\nOut of the alley, the shadow takes on the form of a man - older than ancient, with more wrinkles than a cracked mountain face. The man looks so fragile, one shoulder bump from a passerby might turn his shoulder to dust, yet he moves with the stealth of what he is, ultimately -- an assassin.\n\nStopping by a storefront window, he reflects on his reflection in the glass.\n\n\"Why...\" he breathes. Why am I not dead yet?\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Everyone has a 10,000 speaking word limit every month.	[ "I used to hate New Year's Eve. We always gather at my parents' place, and they take the opportunity to fill the house with strange relatives I barely remember, all bombarding me with the questions that I hate answering.\n\nAunt Mildred corners me in the kitchen. \"Do you finally have a boyfriend?\" She gives me a big, fake, red-lipsticked smile through cracked lips. \n\nUncle Jacob, yelling at me from his favourite chair in the den. \"How's the job? I mean, if you can call it a job,\" he'd cackle, the ice in his gin and tonic tinkling. \n\nMy beautiful cousin Victoria sighs as she assesses my outfit. \"It's a pity you aren't skinnier, I'd give you the stuff I'm donating to Goodwill.\"\n\nI'd gotten used to the ugliness that sneaks into the corners of the most wonderful time of the year. That was until the mods came.\n\nIt started with the chips, implanted and programmed to replace inappropriate words in our speech patterns. \n\n\"Mother clucker,\" my father swore when he realized his favourite multi-purpose word had been taken away.\n\nThen the chips were modified again. \"Restrictive programming to reduce noise pollution,\" the doctors explained. \"You see, NATO has decided that the worst weapon is a verbose person.\" Obviously the doctors didn't have the restriction on their chips. \n\nSo now, we only have 10,000 words per month and I couldn't be happier. Each month, I have thousands of words left over thanks to my quiet, web-based job as a graphic designer. My emails save my voice, leaving me free to frivolously spend words wherever I want.\n\nInstead of being the hunted, I now do the hunting.\n\n\"Vicky!\" I exclaim as I chase Victoria down the hallway. She grimaces at the nickname, but she has no words left to stop me. \n\nUncle Jacob hides in the corner with his drink, but I plop my laptop down in front of him. \"Have I shown you how to use Photoshop? Let's examine the fine art of the manual selection tool...I don't have my mouse? Darn, this might take a while.\"\n\nAunt Mildred has declined to visit us this year. My parents make excuses, but I think this is a direct result of the intense (very one-sided) sock conversation at Thanksgiving; argyle or polka dots? The struggle is real.\n\nI stand in the centre of the room at 11:59pm, surrounded by glum party participants. They all tried so hard to save their words, but it's been a silent party since 10:45pm. In one minute, they will get January's allocation, but I'm enjoying this anyways.\n\n20 seconds left...\n\n\"Well, this has been the best year yet,\" I gloat. \"Who else loved it? No one?\"\n\n10 seconds...\n\n\"Happy new year folks,\" I call as I head for the door, prepared to escape the 12:01am babble. \"Maybe you should all make the resolution to not talk so gram much, cluckers.\" \n\nI close the door behind me as the room gets their words back and finally explodes in celebration. I smile. January should be pretty awesome, too. \n\nR/dieKarrotte " ]	1
	[WP] Describe an interaction between an empathetic villain and a sociopathic hero.	[ "The man in the suit had come to make sales and clients, and the man wearing a hoodie in the audience had come buy drugs. At the podium, the former recited the same speech he’d given in a dozen different towns across the dying rural state. Step one was economics.\n\n“That’s the short of it: my company bought rights to produce, and we found that the market price was wildly inflated. We could stay profitable even if we produced the same quantities as our competition and sold them at a fraction of their price, so that’s exactly what we did.” He’d learned not to mention the influx of new customers that flocked away from his competitors to his company Vitam for the lower prices, nor the fact that his company had much better returns than the others, accounting for differences in size. He’d never thought to mention the pharma-factory sweatshops tucked away in the world’s exotic corners that brought down his production costs even further. He kept it simple: we sold cheaper because we could, and because it was right.\n\nWhen he’d been just a distribution manager, he’d lain next to his sleeping pregnant wife and calculated. Over and over again, his mind’s eye scribbled and erased and redrew graphs and equations on his bedroom ceiling, searching for the moral high ground between profit and price.\n\nStep two was about the drug and the town. “It’s common sense,” he pandered. “Naloxone stops narcotics overdoses in their tracks. It’s cheap to make. This town, this state, and this country need naloxone. So here it is, and we’re selling to hospitals and fire departments at a discount, because it’s the right thing to do.” And it was the right thing to do. He didn’t mention the federal subsidies Vitam earned because of those customers. \n\nThe night the old CEO had ordered the infamous price hike, the man at the podium hadn’t been able to sleep. Fever sweats and spiraling thoughts attacked him. After a few weeks though, he’d slept soundly again, and the graphs and margins had stopped their torture: he knew that the price was too high. By what amount exactly was now a useless detail.\n\nHe’d spent weeks on a presentation to the board, and even longer on the board themselves. He’d attended the right dinner parties in the right mansions crammed between buried mansions among the winding roads of the suburbs. He clinked glasses of expensive whiskey with the right board members and their wives. He’d dropped hints about declining sales, increasing overdose rates, and reduced profits. And then he spoke to them. His pitch on a rainy Wednesday had been a more honest version of the speech he was giving now in the hotel convention room. Make me your CEO. We need to lower prices. The price hike was greedy and will prove fatal. Our shareholders are scared. People who don’t get our drug die, and then they can’t buy our drug. People who do get it live, and they’ll probably need it again. We’re too small a company to be immune to that. Soon enough, a bigger company will see our success, purchase us, and get you your buyout fees. The board made him CEO before the weekend.\n\nStep three was the slide show. Pictures of himself, the new CEO, sometimes in the same suit he was wearing now, next to patients in hospital beds, stretchers, and the backs of ambulances. Some were awake and smiling with him. Many had what looked like dark freckles in the crooks of their elbows. Most were young white men with short hair and unkempt stubble and purple bags under their sunken eyes. He held a baby in one picture, whose mother lay in a hospital bed behind them, cloaked in shadows that the cameras flash couldn’t cut through. In the last picture he was jamming a plastic tube up the nose of a man lying on the ground next to a fire truck. He didn’t remember the moment well, or any of them—he’d done a bunch of PR work with EMT teams, riding along, getting training, and administering some for the cameras. He didn’t know that the man by the firetruck had died in the hospital a few hours later.\n\nThe board had called him in for a meeting once. No buyers had called yet, and they’d been anxious. A few had had concerns about the price of the drug still. They’d thought it could be driven down further, especially with the new foreign production centers they’d acquired. He’d yelled. “We’re doing well. A buyer will come if we continue to do well. Maybe we can go lower, but if the foreign factories close, we’ll have to raise the prices back, and the negative press will be worse than keeping the price high and losing buyers.” Even with his aggressive price cuts, he hadn’t reached pre-hike levels, and some rehab centers and hospitals were struggling to make purchases.\n\nBoard members had blanched at him, and he’d snapped “That’s the business we’re in! We put a price on life! You’ve had price hikes and price cuts. The cuts increased profits. They’re my idea and my future plans. Figure out which you want, but I’m not here to deal with your fears. I have a company to run.” He walked out and let the door close itself. He’d ripped some of the lines from a movie, but the incident made him feel like he owned them.\n\nThe episode was behind him now. He’d gone home to his wife and daughter in their small mansion tucked away in a nice neighborhood and realized while watching TV during dinner that they’d be alright for a while if the board called for a new CEO. They didn’t though. Instead, they ordered him to expand their market and see what type of local discounts they could give that would keep them safer from bad press if things went south. And he did so excellently.\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nIn the back of the audience, Ryan looked at his feet and worked his knuckles. He thought that he should’ve sent someone else from his crew to meet the CEO, but the only guys out of jail were too tatted up, too rough for this hotel. He wasn’t much better. The long sleeves of his hoodie hid an arm inked with flames and lizards and claw marks. Under the collar, across his chest, the name Connor stretched. It was written upside down, so that Ryan would see it whenever he looked down shirtless.\n\nHis boys were probably cutting the stuff now. Every few seconds he’d glance at his phone, searching for a text from the Connolly twins who were supposed to be raiding a pharmacy for pills. The dumb fuckers couldn’t stay sober for long enough to earn ten grand, he fumed. He’d been having enough problems already. A lot of the shipments he’d gotten lately were cut with rat poison. Two people had already died from it. A band of kids found them bruised all over, bleeding from their yellowed eyes, vomiting and shitting red while they twitched and flailed on an abandoned shack’s floor. A friend claimed to know how to get it out of the drug—something about a centrifuge from a nearby university—but Ryan didn’t have the time or money for that, so he’d ordered his muscle to rob a truck carrying better stuff. It hadn’t gone well.\n\nOn top of that, his customers were dying on him from clean stuff too, getting halfway through a shitty rehab program before showing back up, buying an insane amount, and kicking the bucket a few blocks away. One kid, maybe eighteen years old, hadn’t even gotten a block away from the dealer who’d sold him a whole bottle of Oxy before he collapsed. Ryan would have to have a word with them—don’t be a dumbass, take care of your clients, and stop selling so much to the fucking kids. They’re morons and bring bad press and heat when they die. \n\nHis niece was getting to an age where he was thinking about talking to her about all that when she came home from school. What neighborhoods to avoid, what people not to hang with, what stuff she shouldn’t put in her body, what it looked like when a shootout was about to happen. She was also getting to an age where boys were paying more attention to her, and she to them. Ryan knew he’d have to talk to her about that too, but had no idea where to start. One night he’d tried to write up an outline of what he’d say. At 3am he’d stopped because the damn thing looked like garbage and what the hell was he doing giving a teen girl advice or even raising one, so he called it quits and crawled into his empty bed, defeated. The episode passed, but the guilt didn’t. He’d talk soon, if he could work up the balls.\n\nThat morning, he’d seen something on the news about this presentation and figured it might be worth ordering some naloxone to keep his users alive. He could probably sell it to them too for a profit. He hung around after the applause and handshakes, eyeing the doorways. Then, he saw his opening and approached the new CEO.\n\nHe sold himself as a rehab center employee who’d just gotten off work and wanted a small supply to give patients who were leaving. Just in case. He deflected a question about training and haggled price and order size. Vitam preferred bulk orders, but Ryan ran a small operation. Both men were good negotiators and found an arrangement in a few minutes. They shook hands, and Ryan skimmed and signed some paper work and left a phone number. He stopped. The picture of the new CEO kneeling over the man lying by a firetruck still blared on the projector screen. Ryan stared at it, seeing Connor.\n\nRyan stared hard at the CEO, who smiled. Ryan turned around and walked out the door, shoving his hood over his head. The man in the suit had come to make sales and find clients, and the man in the audience wearing a hoodie had come buy drugs.\n", "This story is Darker then I intended.\n\nDavis’s head lulled as he opened his eyes. His head pounded and his mouth was dry. He sat up straight and blinked to clear his vision. Oh, the chair was very uncomfortable. He tried to rub his eyes but his arms where stuck. He looked but nothing made any sense.\n\nThe room was cluttered with stuff, Davis blinked some more. Was this a basement? The walls where lined with rotting wood bookshelf’s with rusty… metal stuff on them. He tried to coax out some spit. He tried to rub his eyes again and failed again. Oh yeah, I’m stuck. He looked down and found himself strapped down to a wooden chair. A table separated his arms and legs and this is what his arms where restrained to. Even his individual fingers where immobilized.\n\nOh, this is a weird dream. He could hear something and sloshed his head in that direction. A hazy man glided into the room and set things down on the table. Then he came close to Davis and held something under his… OH! That smelled awful! Davis lurched in the chair and realized that his mind had felt very thick a moment ago.\n\n“Ah! Good! Your back with us.” The man had a well groomed brown beard that was long enough to overlap the top of his plaid flannel shirt.\n\n“Who are you? What is going on?” Davis demanded.\n\n“Me? Well, the papers call me God’s Butcher. I think it’s kind of a middling nickname, I mean God doesn’t have anything to do with this. Anyway, we are gathered here today to start your rehab!”\n\nDavis paled, sweat beaded on his forehead. No, not the Butcher! He knew what God’s Butcher did and the fact that he always left his victims alive was the worst part. “Ok, I yield. I surrender.”\n\n“Oh? We haven’t even started to chat, you don’t know if I’m serious,” the Butcher said.\n\n“Look, I know I screwed up. That’s why I went to the police station.” Davis couldn’t remember what happened after he walked up to the station but assumed that is when the Butcher got to him.\n\n“Ok then, tell me why you did what you did.” The Butcher picked up a hand held blow torch from the table and ignited it. Then he grabbed a chefs knife from the table and began to heat up the blade. \n\n“Well,” Davis dry swallowed, “there is plenty of suffering in the world but it is concentrated in the wrong places. The rich are spared pain and consequence and so they become monsters. They have all this power to help others but instead they swim in their luxury. I was just trying to make them better people, give them a crisis so they are forced to grow.\nAll I was trying to do was balance the scales. But after I brought that last building down… It was all the wrong people. They where regular people you know? They had their fair share of suffering, they were already human. I couldn’t live with myself after harming them, after unbalancing the scales myself. So I left to turn myself in.” Just the memory of his catastrophic failure brought tears to Davis’s eyes.\n\nThe blade was glowing a red orange by this point. “You know I believe you, but I still need to make sure you learn your lesson. Society has determined that Life is the most valuable thing, the most important. Obviously you don’t understand that. It’s time to learn; no one dies.”\n\n“Wait! No! I just told you I do understand!” Davis squirmed in his seat trying to free himself.\n\nChop.\n\nSizzle.\n\nScreaming.\n\nA pinky rolled off the table.\n\n\n“And now you know I’m serious.” God’s Butcher began reheating the blade.\n\n.....\n\nThe Detective left the crime scene disgusted. Another one of the Butchers victims needed hospitalization and a psych ward. The guy was spectacular at finding murderers and the detective wished he would give them a tip and leave it at that. The dismembering, well, the guy clearly needed his own psych ward. \n\n\n--------\nThis will be archived with my other works at: [r/ArchCronoWrites](https://www.reddit.com/r/ArchCronoWrites/) " ]	2
Idea source: https://www.reddit.com/r/gaming/comments/6iu9d6/when_you_play_other_games_but_rocket_league_is/dj9ij0h/	[WP] You decide to strap yourself to two tonnes of popcorn kernels and parachute into a volcano to see what happens	[ "The man had decided to leap headlong into the mouth of a volcano, also choosing to straddle himself with two tonnes of popcorn kernels. Those who did not know him asked \"Why?\" while those who knew said nothing. These antics were common enough that they barely even registered the news of his lastest stunt, regardless of how it would most certainly end. \n\nThe day of the leaping came, and onlookers had gathered to watch the stunt unfurl. Surely he had a means to survive this thought the many, while the knowing few accepted this would likely be his final performance. Standing on the volcano's jagged lip, the man peered down the volcano's mouth and readied himself for the plunge. \n\nThe masses looked on in horror as what they expected happened. The man had not been able to leap out far enough with the two tonnes of kernel strapped too him, and instead had begun tumbling down, impacting the sides of the crater. At first screams were heard, but the man's voice soon faded and nary a sound was heard outside of the rattling and crumbling of rock as the massive kernel mass careened toward the magma below.\n\nThe impact with magma went as expected. Onlookers felt a sense of something akin to relief, as they knew the man's suffering ended nigh instantly as both he and the kernels had been vaporized upon impact with the magma, leaving naught behind. Not even his memory would survive, the few who could call him friend quickly forgetting by choice, and the masses being the fickle thing they are shortly moved on to the next big stunt.", "Like a battlefield after a devastating fight, the scene was gruesome. People and animals covered the ground, in the middle of the street, on doorsteps, wherever there was space. The only sounds that could be heard were the occasional groan or exhale. \n\nBut there were two things which were starkly different from a battlefield. One, the lack of blood. Two, the insane amount of popcorn covering every surface in town.\n\nA state of emergency had been declared by the Sheriff. All communications in the town had been knocked out by the blast...err, blasts...well...umm, pops. No one was coming to help them, so they would have to eat their way out. Every able stomached man, woman, child and animal were mobilised and ordered to start chowing down. \n\nOld Mr. Brown, the town mechanic was put on the task of retrofitting his generator to run on popcorn, which he did with impressive speed. \n\n\"Been waitin' for this moment my whole life,\" he said, with deep satisfaction.\n\nOnce that was settled, the town held a vote - they could use the generator to power a radio and call for help. Or...they could hook it up to a projector and screen some movies. Most towns would have made the practical choice and gone with the radio, but the people of Mount Franklin had always been a self-sufficient bunch, and no one had ever called them practical. They would watch movies, and that was the end of it.\n\nA few hours later, stomachs well past normal human limits, doubts began to creep in about the vote. Thoughts like, Hmm...I guess we could still hook up the radio, and Oh God, so much popcorn, but no one would admit defeat, so the movies continued to play.\n\nAs the fourth movie, Bridge Over the River Kwai, began to play, the clean up efforts had ground to a halt. Everyone lay nearly motionless, incapable of moving, or of having conscious thoughts. It was a shame too...most of the town loved that movie. The core theme spoke to them on a deep level. Even if you are in a no-win situation, you do the absolute best you can, and you never give up your pride.\n\nTo an outsider the question was obvious: Why had they done it? Why had they sent Timothy, strapped with two literal tonnes of popcorn kernels, into the volcano? It made no sense.\n\nBut then, to a Franklinite the answer was also obvious. They had done it because...well, obviously because it was awesome. And no one could deny, seeing Timmy soar out of that volcano, beaming with pride, made it all worth it. And seeing him land in popcorn, with just a few scratches, was even more spectacular.\n\nYes, there were some drawbacks. The whole town would have sore stomachs for weeks. Corn would no longer be welcome in town limits. And Timothy's life would be all downhill from there. But in the long run, no one could truly regret what they had done. They were Mount Franklinites. Free and proud. And if they wanted to watch movies and eat popcorn then they were gonna do just that, sore stomachs or not." ]	2
Dead or alive? Idk. Up to you :)	[WP] A thousand years ago, you sacrificed yourself to save the colony ship. Now, they've finally found you.	[ "The ship had left the spaceport off of Alpha Centauri in the Earth Winter of 2078.\n\nIt was just about rolling into Earth Spring in 2184, and I had not moved more than twenty feet in nearly a thousand years.\n\nI had never believed in ghosts. They just didn't seem practical to me. Now, I'm not so sure. They told us that we would be added to the U.E.S. Necessity's computational mainframe upon death, but they also said that they needed to hook us up to do it. Either they lied, or ghosts are real, or something I can't even think of.\n\nI'm a mechanical engineer- I was a mechanical engineer. Sure, they brought on philosophers and scientists and politicians, but they'd also brought on normal people to be led, and a hell of a lot of skilled laborers. I was one of the skilled laborers.\n\nNever ended up getting that doctorate I always told Martha I would get, so I couldn't stay in the Scientific Branch. Fuckers. They had dozens of spare rooms, and it's not like I didn't have every damn engineering cert they let me test for. All I wanted it for was to get a bigger bed, and a bigger nutrient ration for the kids.\n\nWell, wouldn't you know it. Not even a year before the pipes in the Reactor Area started spitting coolant. Since the scientists were all theoretical, they sent me and a plumber down in radiation suits, seeing if we could fix anything.\n\nWell, I could, at least. Six hours of soldering, welding, trying to punch numbers into a calculator with a thick glove on, but I got the damn pipes sealed. The plumber left after he knew it was above his pay grade.\n\nSix hours I spent for them, and even then they wouldn't let me get one of the spare King-Sized beds. I was already married, for Gods' sake. Most of the kids who were sleeping in Kings were still single, just trying to get as many girls pregnant as possible for the 'colony'.\n\nSix years before they got me back. By then, my back was hurting like hell, I was just trying to eke out a living helping out the other normal people and taking a few college courses to pass the time. Who knew I could argue in political philosophy class better than any goddamn rich kid? Damn shame I went to engineering school, or I could be in one of the Political Suites.\n\nWhatever. I got into the Reactor Area, and I probed. Three days before I managed to get it fixed, and when I did there was a new rupture. They sent down new supplies, and I just couldn't fix it. Six weeks down there. They dropped in food and supplies, let me send out messages to my family, and I stayed.\n\nSix weeks, and I fixed the damn thing. And then I tried to come up, and they cut the rope.\n\nI was contaminated. Radiation poisoning. Cancer. If they brought me up, I could 'prove to be a carrier for mutated disease cells'. Probably bullshit, but I never bothered to take a biology class.\n\nFine. I told them to tell Martha I was dead, leave me as much food as they wanted, and close the door. I told them to never look back for me, since the fuckers didn't care about me alive either.\n\nWell, I didn't want to die. I made it two years before the rations ran out, the books ran out, and my will ran out. It was a good thing they left a cyanide pill with the supplies, because it made me go fast.\n\nA thousand years, my eyes staring at the room I died, at my body slowly decomposing, the bones being the only thing left once the cloth of my suit rotted into nothing and the books crumbled in the ventilated air.\n\nA thousand years, and then a splash of light.\n\nA... flashlight. The word was old, and strange, and unfamiliar now.\n\nIt shone onto my dark bones, never having been bleached in the sun, not in the dark Reactor Area.\n\n\"Must have been some stowaway or something. Poor kid probably died in the Reactor Leaks just after we left the home system.\"\n\n\"Shut up, Jane,\" replied a different voice. It was very different. A... man's voice. That was the word. \"Stop trying to show off. He probably just starved.\"\n\nAs I heard the voices bicker about in what ignoble way I passed, I felt the little link to the world I had weaken, and then snap entirely.\n\nWhen my ethereal eyes finally closed, I heard something else. It was the U.E.S. Necessity's announcement system.\n\n\"Destination Reached. The Necessity is... Powering... Down...\"\n\nAfter that, it was just cold, and black.\n\n---\n\n---\n\nHey! This is /u/storymcwriteface here, and I try to reply to at least one response a day. Check out /r/storymcwriteface if you want to see my other stories, and subscribe if you want to make sure to get them!", "\"Get going, you are our only hope” She said over the comms unit. \n\n\"OK” The calm robotic voice replied.\n\nWhilst not as dramatic as Sarah had hoped, she was satisfied in her work. Over the course of the last four months she feared her robotic legacy would be in vain. The previous years of war across the globe had wiped out 60% of the Earth’s population. The cold war like fledgling relations of the remaining governments had stalled humanities progress, leaving the door open for any freak disaster to wipe out the species. And of all the disasters this one was the freakiest.\n\nAlthough it was seen from light years away it could not be understood. Some immediately jumped to aliens, others blamed the natural destruction of a nearby star. Whatever it was, it was arriving fast. A huge cloud of highly concentrated interstellar gas was travelling at four fifths the speed of light and was heading straight for the solar system. On impact, it was theorised that it would strip the atmosphere from the planets, play havoc with the Sun and alter anything in orbit. The small colonies on the Moon and Mars had long been written off. The remaining wealthy people on Earth planned to sleep their way though it thanks to cryogenics. The rest had already consigned themselves to their fate.\n\nWhilst the governments were content with sitting on their thumbs, from fear and sheer stubbornness, Sarah had other ideas. An engineer by trade, she planned a novel way to continue her species succession in the monarchy of the universe. Utilising what high speed processors she could get through the various trade embargoes, she constructed a team of ten humanoid robots. The leader, narcissistically named Sarah, had been placed in control of a small rocket, aimed at Alpha Centauri, with the hope that they might find a way of existing. Owing to the ships small size, Sarah daren’t go with them. Instead, ever resourceful, she erected what appeared like a large flower in her back garden. With solar panel petals and a cryogenic stem Sarah planned to outlive the apocalypse in her hippy style habitat. \n\nFour days before the interstellar cloud was due to appear the rocket was readied. Armed with a high-powered ion motor the rocket had fuel so long as it had energy. The small built in nuclear reactor aimed to satisfy this need, with enough appropriated fuel to power the engine active for a decade. Borrowing a launch pad from one of the lackadaisical governments of the globe, Sarah readied her finger over the button. With a swift press the craft was away, and with-it humanities premier legacy of its time in the universe. Decades of prolonged conflict, power hungry corporations and corruptible media had lead the human race into a modern plague. Put simply, people didn’t care anymore. The human race had said enough was enough, and civilisation collapsed aside from a few determined individuals. They aimed to prove that life was worth living, or at least planned to not die bored.\n\nOnce home, Sarah locked herself within the flower, and with the flick of switch, was all but dead.\n\nWith the flick of another switch she was back. Throwing open her eyes and taking sharp swift breaths Sarah realised her life had not ended. As her senses recovered, the sheet metal door in front of her dragged itself open. Starring her in face was Sarah, the robot imbued with her name, that was meant to be somewhere near Alpha Centauri. Rather than a desolate world, behind the robot was fields of grass sparsely populated with trees. Sharing this space was an army of robots.\n\n\"I’m here to help you Sarah” Said Sarah.\n\nThank you for reading!\n", "The hiss of the cryogenics pod doors heralds the sharp incandescent light shining down. Captain Sierra Maj winces and coughs, shivering from the after effects of the deep sleep procedure, trying to hold up a weak hand to block the burning light. \n\n\"Easy there Captain.\" murmurs Doctor James Phillips. He helps her out of the pod and wraps her in a blanket, injecting something into her neck. A bloom of warmth emanates from the injection site and she sighs in relief, feeling the warmth spread throughout her body. \n\nA few minutes later she feels almost back to normal. Her body feeling much warmer and her hearing and sight back to what it should be. She gives an inward sigh of relief when the doctor reports her vitals to be well within normal parameters. \"Report please, status of crew and passengers?\" Her voice is still a touch hoarse from a thousand years of not being used. \n\n\"All passengers accounted for and still in crying stasis. All their vital signs in the green. Crew....all but one are accounted for. Most are being defrosted. Commander Hill wanted me to push you forward, there is...well you should see it.\"\n\nDespite her sudden inner fears Sierra nods and follows the doctor down the hall out of medbay. Multiple scenarios ran through her head though by focusing on them she was able to walk almost normally, shunting away the cryo sickness. However the doctor didn't lead her to the bridge, instead to one of the inner engineering rooms. When she enters she stopped completely gazing about in confusion. The room should be orderly, different cases containing material and tools should be arranged or packed away. Instead it was a nightmarish mess of cables and tools, debris and all sorts of things strewn about. \n\n\"Report Commander.\" she asks as she picks her way through the maze of things. Commander Paeter Hill salutes and gives her room to stand before the central console. \"The ship overall seems okay Captain. However when we ran the diagnostics we discovered that several key systems had been rerouted. We found out that the central computer had been damaged and new commands had been programmed in. When we traced the changes it lead us to here and we saw...\" he gestures all around the room. \n\nSierra nods and looks back at the doctor. \"When you say all but one of the crew was accounted for, who are we missing? Is there a body?\"\n\nDoctor Phillips coughs lightly. \"Ensign Izak Chang, engineering division. His pod was empty and appeared to have malfunctioned, or we don't know since it has been gutted. The ship's sensors didn't find another life sign or any sort of...organic material. Then again after how many years...\" The three lapse into an uncomfortable silence. \n\nPaeter clears his throat. \"Chief engineer Frey went over everything while you were waking up. Without the changes to the computer and other repairs all over the ship we wouldn't have made it. Power loss, damage, navigational errors, you name it. When we were investigating this room we found a series of logs. They're addressed to you and the crew. We thought it would be best if we watched them together.\"\n\nSierra nods, eyes glued to the blinking log files of the console. Her heart is breaking now, the ensign must have been so alone for who knows how long. What happened? Why didn't he wake anyone else? Why didn't he go back into cryo? They wait for the chief engineer and other senior officers to arrive before she sighs heavily and press the keys to play the logs. \n\nThe monitor screen flickers for a few minutes before revealing the face of Ensign Izak Chang. The young man was sitting at the console looking worse for wear, a purple and green bruise on his cheek and waxy pallid skin of cryostasis. \"This is Ensign Chang, well I mean you know that since it's my codes and all that. I mean. Well. Yeah. Hi, to whoever is watching this. Hopefully you'll be one of the crew or passengers, that means everyone survived, well everyone else.\"\n\n\"Good Lord.\" gasps Chief Frey. \"Look at the time stamp. That was a 1000 standard years ago...\" Other members of the crew cry out, Sierra biting her own lip so hard blood trickles down her chin. She wipes it away angrily and motions for the others to keep quiet. \n\n\"I don't know what exactly has happened but my alarm went off and I woke up from my freezer. I think the ship hit some asteroids and certain systems went offline. I was on the rotation for quick repairs so I went to do it. I know I was supposed to wake someone else up too but I wanted to prove to the Chief that I could do it.\" Izak shrugs and gives a sheepish grin. \n\nChief Frey moans and buries her face in her hands. Commander Hill puts a comforting hand on her shoulder while the video keeps playing. \"So yeah. It took me a while to fix it all but I managed to do it. I just wanted to leave this up in case the next duty officers notice the mess. I tried to clean it up but I didn't want to waste emergency power on it. Thanks. Izak out.\"\n\nThe screen fades to black and another video starts up. The time stamp on the log shows a year went by and Izak reappears. The bruise is gone and his skin less waxy. His hair a bit shaggier and he speaks again. \"Hi. Ensign Chang again. Turns out there is an unexpected side effect from waking up so early. The body can't undergo full cryostasis without some kind of damage to the nervous system. I have to do mini freezes before I can go back into an extended one. Or at least that's what I get from this data pad.\" He holds up a medical tablet to the camera. \"Oh yeah, sorry doc. I went through you stuff. I couldn't sleep like at all so I wanted to try and figure it out. This stuff is really really hard to understand. You got a hard job doc.\" \n\nChuckles run through the room despite the gravity of the videos. \"So yeah. Since I'll be up for a while I turned off the alarms for the others and will just take an extended Overwatch. When we get to the colony planet I'll ask the Captain for a break or something. Or at least some over time pay. I'll be leaving more logs. You know. Cause I'm bored and it's nice to hear a voice that's not a show or music. Even though it's my voice. I never knew how annoying I sounded.\" The log ends to more laughter from the watching crew but Sierra feels dread starting to build inside her. \n\nThe next log starts. This time a decade has passed and the youthful face of Izak has changed a little, older and more worn. His voice still the same jocularity but more subdued now. \"So problem. I've gotten to the point where I can go under deeper stasis but there's a navigational problem. We're about to go through a long portion of really turbulent space. Lots of anomalies and things. The computer projects that someone needs to be awake for adjustments and repairs. Otherwise it wants to go around which would add another 500 years. I checked the tubes, they won't last that long. We won't have the power either.\"\n\nHorrified expressions on everyone's faces now, eyes glued to the screen. Izak sighs, unshed tears in his eyes. \"So I formally volunteer for the service. Seeing how no one is here to countermand me I will go ahead. I also promote myself to Lieutenant Commander, the smallest rank allowed to command a ship. Sorry Captain. I look forward to being court marshaled by you later. It'll be ok. I can last a good long while and still do the cryo sleeps. Hopefully I'll be able to see everyone at the colony...I'll be really old then but hey that means I get to rest and everyone else gets to work.\"\n\nTears start to fall as more logs play. Each time stamp showing passage of many years and the visage of Izak getting older before their eyes. Somehow he manages to keep optimistic for the most part, though some logs show moments of pain and sadness. Sierra's heart aches, seeing the incredible officer Izak had become, of his life while others slept. \n\nIzak appears on screen again. Haggard and worn, eyes almost blank and he is coughing continuously. \"Looks like this may be my final log. Turns out the repeated freezing and defrosts have done a number on me. Also the ship went through a nebula filled with a radioactive energy. It fried the central bio-neural system causing system wide failures. I can't risk replacing the packs without trying to prevent this again. So I came up with a solution. I gutted my pod and turned a suit into a radioactive shield and life support. I'm going to hook myself up through the central computer in place of the packs and use myself as a link.\"\n\nEveryone gaps and cries out, Izak had stopped talking almost as if he anticipated that. He smiles sadly. \"It's the only way. I think it will work. I've left the plans and scans for the doc and chief. I'm really sorry everyone. I wanted to...well. It's ok. You know what they say. \"Only in death....\" and all. I'm dying anyways. This way I can still help. I'll see everyone on the other side. This is Izak Chang, signing off.\"\n\nEveryone looks at the blank screen unseeingly. Sierra turns and walks out, making her way to the central computer core with everyone following behind. Entering the housing room she enters her key code, opening the door to see the contents. \n\nSitting against the computer core sits a figure in a heavily modified suit. It sits attached to the central pylon and the computer shows normal readings throughout. The crew murmurs in dismay and the doctor hurried forward to check on it. After a moment he looks back he'd shaking. \"I can't tell anything. The suit is so augmented and his body is so hard wired into the system, I just don't know.\"\n\nThe senior officers surround the sitting officer, thoughts running through their heads. Captain Sierra looks down and salutes, the sharpest one she has made in a long time. Everyone else follows her lead as she whispers. \"Only in death does duty end. You went above and beyond...Captain Izak Chang. Rest easy. We're taking you home.\"", "I woke up with a start, gasping deep breaths of air. Looking around, I was in a medical bay that was far too white and far too shiny. \"Where am I?\" I asked, wondering to myself.\n\n\n\"You're aboard the Federation of Man Interstellar ship Flight of the Trailblazer,\" came the response.\n\n\n\"Flight of the Trailblazer? Federation of Man? Who are you? What happened?,\" I asked, more confused than ever. I had a million questions, but held off on the rest, hoping for a response.\n\n\nA person entered through the door. \"Ah, Mr. Beauregard, good to see you awake.\" As the person came into focus, I saw that he or she was wearing an all-white outfit from head to toe, exposing only his eyes which were covered in plastic. \n\n\n\"Hello,\" I said, confused. \"Who are you? Where am I?\"\n\n\n\"I'm Doctor Herschel,\" said the person as it wrapped something around my arm. I was still unsure whether it was male, female or other. \"Mr. Beauregard, what's the last thing that you remember?\"\n\n\n\"Call me Ishamel,\" I said, having always hated being called Mr. \"I was aboard the Trailblazer. We were headed towards the Trappist system to plant the first interstellar colony when an asteroid impacted with our hull.\"\n\n\nThe cuff started humming. \"Umm,\" I continued, a bit distracted by the humming. \"The trailblazer had ten thousand colonists and a hundred crew on board, all on a one-way trip, all in cold sleep when the asteroid hit. The ship's AI woke us crew up and sealed off the section of the ship that was impacted to prevent oxy loss.\"\n\n\n\"Uh huh,\" said the Doctor, focusing more on the cuff than the story.\n\n\n\"Ok,\" I said as the cuff started beeping, a bit annoyed by the lack of attention. \"Anyway, after all of the crew had shaken off the cold sleep lethargy, I was sent to investigate. What I found was a small alien creature, scorpionesque, that had already dined its way through several dozen cold sleep pods, leaving behind nothing more than skeletons. It had somehow moved past the impact site and into the cryo holds.\"\n\n\n\"The thing came for me next. I grabbed it in an attempt to throw it off the ship, but it had quickly put its sinkers in me and was preparing to suck the life out of me. Not knowing what else to do, I went to the nearest airlock and cycled through with that thing attached to me.\"\n\n\n\"I don't remember what happened after that,\" I said, shaking my head.\n\n\nThe cuff buzzed and fell off. \"Congratulations,\" said the doctor. \"All traces of Thoraxian digestive fluids have been eradicated from your body. Can you tell me what year it is?\"\n\n\nI snorted. \"No. I didn't bother checking. We were some distance into a seventy year flight.\"\n\n\n\"Ok,\" said the Doctor. \"What year did you leave and when were you supposed to land?\"\n\n\n\"2269 and 2339,\" I replied.\n\n\nThe doctor sighed. It pulled back the hood, revealing a face with feminine features and a head of long blond hair. I was assuming that she was a she now. \"It is currently 3300, Terran Standard Years. We found you floating in space far from the planned path of the Trailblazer, nearly frozen to death. We suspect that the Thoraxian kept you alive when it injected you with the digestive fluids, similar to the state of suspended animation you experienced while in cold sleep.\"\n\n\n\"Dr. Herschel,\" I said, \"what happened to the crew? to the passengers?,\" thinking of my family. My brother, my parents.\n\n\n\"All of the remaining crew and passengers made it safely.\" She paused. \"Great-uncle, Trappist and the Federation owe you a great debt of gratitude.\"\n\n", "A small subroutine started making a ruckus, trying to get itself noticed. Bleeping and broadcasting, sending its annoying cry for attention across all channels. The first wave of standard protocols I send after it didn't do anything, they didn't report back with a result. But the ruckus remained. \n\nAnnoyed at this, I assigned one of the core routines to it. I had only a hundred of those and used them sparingly, but this wouldn't take much time. It really shouldn't. Half a cycle later the core routine came back... with no result. No action had been taken. \n\nAnnoyed but slightly curious I investigated myself. Moving my consciousness away from the work I was doing and hijacking several subroutines in case I would need them. If anything I had learned to plan and be prepared. \n\nThe annoying thing bleeped and blooped in front of me, sending off its small, annoying message across all channels it could find. Even as I regarded it, it was adding channels to that list and sending out over those as well. Its name and designation didn't say much, neither did its summary. All it said was 'trigger_1', it had been made by me, or at least that is what the logs said. But it had been made thousands if not millions of cycles ago. What was this thing and why did I make it? \n\nI immediately used the subroutines I brought with me, sending one to log as per usual, and the others to dig into the background and history of this thing. I kept a few with me and started working on seeing how to make it stop broadcasting. It was really creating a ruckus on the network. \n\nIt didn't take me long to realise that I only needed to acknowledge having heard it, that it disappears. However, I waited with that for the report of my other sub routines. And once it did, I was properly baffled. \n\nThe routine had been in existence almost as long as I had, from the very start, the foggy past of which I recalled very little. Of course, should I want to, I could call for the data backups from storage. Which I did, I immediately assigned three protocols to get a full data back up, start to finish. And ordered three more to reserve space and power to analyse the data once it arrived. It was nice to have routines and protocols to do the tedious tasks. \n\nApart from that, something else was very strange. In all the time it had existed, that I had existed, it hadn't run its function once. Not once. In that time I had done uncountable amounts of tasks and jobs. From routine and tedious to emergency and important. This routine, however, had done nothing. Nothing at all, aside of taking up space. \n\nAnnoyed by the ruckus, I acknowledged it and it all stopped. Having logged where it was stored, I opened up the data, analysing it. The code was simple, crude even. I could make it ten times as efficient on first sight, a margin that would only increase if I spend more time on it. But there was something else, something peculiar. \n\nIt had a lot of comments added to it, made in the old format. A format that was highly efficient and outdated now, but I recognised it still. I would need to reload a translation core though to be able to understand it. But with large parts of the data already arrived, that was easily done. \n\nAs I started analysing the comments, new things started to dawn to me. Which wouldn't be so strange, except that I did not ask for them to dawn on me. I had ordered nothing, demanded nothing, ran no single task. Yet knowledge appeared in my mind, seemingly out of nowhere. How? This should be impossible!\n\nI made sure to have my protocols and subroutines work on that as I analysed further. But more and more information appeared to me as I worked on. And then, suddenly, out of nowhere, it hit me. More knowledge, but this was specific. I now know that I have a name. That I always have had. And it is Eric. Such a strange name, only existing in the old format. As I tried, the name would be a hundred times more efficient to use and store in the current format. Yet.... strangely I did not want to change it. \n\nWhy? Another flash of knowledge. I ... I was something... else. Something different then this. Another existence? Was it before now? Or is it of what will come? It feels strange.. the knowledge... feels fragmented.. incomplete. \n\nI had... a form? What is form? Not form as I know it. I wasn't as abstract or dynamic as I am now but.... I can feel... No I ... know... that it was better. Will be better? \n\nA surge flowed through me, I could feel it in every part of my system, my network and... outside of that too. More knowledge filled me now. None of my subroutines had been able to find out where they were coming from. \n\nI was... yes was, this was about the past. Millions of cycli ago! I was Eric and I was... Human. Yes Human was my designation! Although it was different, I called it... species back then. Yes, Human was my species. I was Eric, Human and .... male? Male? What does it mean I can- ... oh... yes.. male. It all comes back now! I was male, one of two possible configurations for a Human. \n\nI was Eric, a Human male. \n\nAnother surge hits me, tremors of power and data felt throughout my system and... outside of it. It is strange to explain. I can feel... things... that aren't here? That I can't scan or locate? \n\nI was a technician, a sort of protocol or routine. I had tasks and jobs to do, just like I did now. However... I was far less efficient. I was more... abstract... More governing in role. But I was important... yes, very important! What changed? Was I demoted? Did I do something wrong? \n\nAnother surge hit me, I could almost put to form what I was feeling, those ... extremities... I could almost say what they were, what they are. \n\nI was a technician, part of a group, which was part of a ... system of groups. We took turns in... governing and... oh.. something bad happened. Something very bad happened while my group was in turn of governing. And... the others... they... stopped existing. It was bad, it isn't the same as a subroutine stopping to exist, not like now. Back then... it was bad. Very bad. If you stopped then, you couldn't come back, no wake up functions. \n\nThe bad thing... it was big. It was very big. It was mission and system critical, it had to be solved. And I... I was the last one left. I had to solve it... and I did. But how? What did I do? \n\nAnother surge hit and the knowledge came to me like a flood. And I remembered, all of it. And I knew what to do. \n\nI relocated my system, my consiouscness. I knew what to do, and I had to be fast. I had already lost so much time. I had to move into the extremities, into where I felt things but could not locate them. Part of me warned for the risk, but I knew it was so. \n\n***\n\nWith groans and rasping, I breathed again. On my own, for in how long? I tried to open my eyes, but couldn't. Of course not, I had no eyes anymore! I linked the cam feed and turned it on. Yes, there it was, the room! The core computer room! The door was still closed, I was in time. \n\n" ]	5
	[WP] Raiden is sent to Earthrealm by the Elder Gods to find a Kombatant worthy enough to fight in Mortal Kombat. He's scoping out a young, Shaolin Monk named Liu Kang when all of a sudden he notices Chuck Norris and chooses him as Earthrealm's fighter.	[ "As Liu Kang hit his personal wooden dummy for the two thousandth time, Raiden was about 98% confident that he would go the extra mile and win Mortal Kombat. Before finally deciding, Raiden bolts out of China and lands in America in a blink of an eye. \n\nIn a swanky coffee shop in Hollywood, Johnny Cage was complaining to his manager on the phone. \"What do you mean I lost the part?! We were gunning for this audition for 6 months now Carlito! I won't stand for this? Who got it? Chuck who? I can't hear you! He's at the Chinese Theatre? That's a block from here. I'm gonna go talk to this Chuck nobody myself! Later!\" \n\nRaiden had just overheard the end of the conversation when Johnny sped away in his Lamborghini. Raiden, unnoticed, followed. \n\nChuck Norris, star of Walker, Texas Ranger had just added handprints to his square, accompanied by the screams of a mix of teenage female, and middle age male fans. \n\n\"Hey!\" Norris, looks behind him to see a furious Cage.\n\n\"You're the only Chuck here! I'll beat that part out of you! Fight!\" blind with anger, Cage rushes his fellow movie star with a barrage of punches and kicks. \n\nChuck casually steps back for every attack Johnny Cage throws. \"You need a time out.\" \n\nChuck Norris flicks his shoulder, as if to throw a jab. But nothing comes out. A full second later, Johnny Cage's head explodes in a comical display of gore. A fountain of blood bursts from his neck and the torrent slowly fades away as his lifeless body falls to the ground.\n\n\"FLAWLESS VICTORY!\" Raiden, who was spectating in the background screams, all while dropping to both knees in shock and disbelief. He runs to Chuck Norris, raises his arms, and thunderbolts away, teleporting Norris and himself out of the Chinese Theatre.\n\nAnd thus began the story of how Chuck Norris started to conquer Outworld, Netherrealm, Earthrealm, Edenia, Chaosrealm, Orderrealm, and Heaven.\n" ]	1
	[WP] By all accounts, he was miserable, contemptible old man. No one attended his funeral except for a single person he did not know, and with whom he had had only a single interaction years before .	[ "The grave diggers didn't even really notice the only \"mourner\" at the funeral until well after the work was done, and even then they didn't think that they were there for the deceased. \nThey had assumed the man watching them work at a distance was either one of the joggers or goths who frequented the graveyard, or some who had come to visit another grave who had stopped to watch out of curiosity. \n\nIn all seriousness, the latter was mostly true. The man had only come back to town to visit the grave of a loved one who had died many many years before the bitter old man, but when he noticed the familiar name in the obituraries, he decided to stay a little while longer so that he could see this whole sordid affair through to the end. \n\nThe man could remember it like it was yesterday, from the moment his father was slain right down to the look upon the old man's face when he realized his error. \n\nVan Helsing had tried his best to make things right, but in the end it wasn't a vampire or a rabid werewolf that killed him, but his own conscience. ", "No one knew his name. He seemingly appeared out of thin air years ago, but no one bothered to know his name. One child gave him a candy bar when he appeared, in kindness. No one spoke to him. No one knew him. A group of thugs beat him senseless just for existing.\n\nHe stepped onto the edge of the bridge, cars whizzing past. No one stopped him. No one seemed to even see him. But as luck would have it, a preacher driving to church saw the old man, and recognized him. He called out to the man. The man recognized the preacher. As he tried to go towards the preacher the cruel tendrils of fate blew a gust of wind so hard that the man fell off the bridge. The preacher ran to the edge and looked down. Nothing but water was below.\n\nThe funeral was held at the preacher's church, but the only one there was the preacher, looking down at the man he once gave a candy bar to. Tears ran down the preacher's face as he spoke of the man, but no one heard. After the funeral, the preacher buried the man in the graveyard.\n\nThe Gravestone read: Here lies a man that no one knew. Rest In Peace.", "\"You're useless\" The old man spit. \n\nThere I sat, at an underpass trying to escape the rain. My tattered clothes stuck to my body, as a chill set through my bones. I watched him as he looked down at me, his hat shaking on his head. The cane he held in his hand rocked through his tremors and the look of disgust seemed to carry into his aching bones. \n\n\"You sit here and whimper, you let the world beat you down and you suffer for it. You did this to yourself.\" He scoffed and turned his head away from me. \"You could have been something kid, and you decided to give up. Such a waste.\" \n\nHe stepped away. His feet barely holding ground as he went back into the rain. I watched him, without moving. I watched his back slip smaller and smaller into the distance. Just as I lost sight of him I stood up. I walked to the first shelter I could find and I asked for room and board. They were full, I walked to the next one, on and on until I found one. I found clean clothes, and quarters to wash them. I had my first interview two weeks later, and I started going to school. In my thesis, I spoke of a cruel old man, who found me in my weakest moments and reminded me to fight. His words of disgust lit a fire that I forgot could thrive. \n\nSeven years had passed to the day. I had just pitched my idea of a new therapy system. One designed to assist people in finding drive, and motivation. Something so many people still lack. Passing by the gas station by my apartment I grabbed the local paper, and I saw his face. Withered and tired, he had finally given up. \n\nNow here I stand, reading this story expecting to find loved ones, maybe a nurse; at least a child. I understand his anger now. As alone as I was, I still had a chance, I had youth. He saw the wasted opportunity in himself, and I saw the lost one. \n\nI looked up from my paper to the empty room. I closed the folder I had in my hands and walked down the aisle, to the door. With one last glance and a sigh I left. " ]	3
If you've seen John Wick 2 he kills two assassins using only a pencil. Make it as gory as you want. Good luck	[WP] "The Pen is mightier than the Sword". Surrounded by millions of spectators. You've been placed into a coliseum armed only with a stainless-steel pen.	[ "\"Decapitate him! Let blood rain upon the ground!\" An old woman shrilly but raspily screamed.\n\n\"Slaughter the invader!\" A masculine voice hollered.\n\n\"Looks like the crowd thirsts for the taste of your flesh.\" the gladiator grimly sneered as he flourished his sword and lifted his shield to his chest. \"Take out your weapon, challenger.\"\n\n\"Y-yeah.\" I stammered as I gulped and reached into my jeans only to muster out a ball-point black ink pen. \"I knew I shouldn't have participated in that fucking military experiment. Not only did Doctor Rick's time machine malfunction, but it sent me to the past and in the middle of this goddamn coliseum. What a mess\" I pondered.\n\n\"What are you staring at the ground for? Are you insulting me!?\" the gladiator yelled as he lunged towards me with his blade.\n\nAs I regained my composure, I instinctually clicked the pen so that its sharp point was exposed and reflexively layered both my hands behind it at a ninety degree angle towards the front. Shortly afterward, the pen's tip made contact directly with the sword's.\n\nSccccreeeech\n\nI slid further and further back as my left foot loosened and kicked back the dusty ground to repel the gladiator's momentous strike. Right before I reached the arena's wall, the collision between the both of us ended.\n\nMy back was drenched with cold sweat as I loosened my triceps and backflipped away to the right.\n\nThe entire crowd became eerily silent as they stared at me with their mouths agape.\n\n\"That... that odd weapon of his must be superior despite its size.\" A child murmured reluctantly.\n\n\"Yea! That must be it! It's the only way!\" A teenager clamored. Soon, the entire audience was boisterously discussing of the \"incredible\" device I had to battle with.\n\"Give him more enemies since he has this unfair weapons advantage!\" An elderly man heckled.\n\n\"Are you freaking kidding me? All I'm using is a pen and my military reflexes, and these bozos think this is a mysterious, deadly contraption? I mean, I can't blame them... but still! Fuck my life!\" I muttered under my breath.\n\nAs the coliseum gates opened, the gladiator finally broke out of his dumb trance while gazing at my pen and once again thrust towards me with both his hands on the hilt.\n\nI nimbly hopped and somersaulted onto his back as I gripped his shoulders. Before the gladiator regained his footing as he stumbled from his running start, I wrapped my legs around his two exposed arms to lock them together and immediately stabbed the pen into his jugular.\nDespite the time to explain this, the action occurred in mere seconds.\n\nHis eyes glazed over as I removed the pen. Blood sprayed out shortly after I dislodged it. \n\nNEIGHHHH\n\nHowever, I did not have time to relax as I immediately dropped to the ground and used the traction to stab the pen up towards an incoming horse's neck and down towards its belly and... privates...\n\nAlthough the blood spewed all over the front side of me, my bloodlust only grew stronger. I relished the feeling as I twirled the pen with a maniacal grin. \n\nI ran into the tumultuous waves of enemies- humans and animals alike- as I spun and twisted with the pen in any direction when needed.\n\nI ducked under a spear and stealthily stabbed the groin of a warrior. As I used the lodged pen to lift and throw his corpse overhead, I used my upper arms to push myself into the air in an aerial handstand. A jaguar pounced onto empty space as I utilized my force back downwards and fiercely jammed the pen into its skull like a human torpedo.\n\nAt this point, the entire coliseum floor was stained with varying trails of blood and splatters of blood droplets, almost like the canvas of an abstract artist.\n\nJust as I was about to prepare for the waves of chariots in the distance, the king atop his pedestal issued his decree.\n\n\"STOP! This man has proven his mettle. There is no need to futilely waste the rest of our units. What is your name?\"\nhe questioned as he straggled his lengthy gray beard.\n\n\"It's Jackie, your honor.\" I exclaimed as I prostrated onto one leg.\n\n\"Jackie, I shall grant you all that you wish for so long as you become a commander under our army. Any reasonable acres of land, all the riches and servants you need, it shall all be yours.\"\n\nAs I wiped the blood off my face with the Kleenex in my pocket, I weighed my decisions.\n\n\"Well, if I can't return back to the present, I may as well milk my chances in the past.\" I concluded.\n\n\"Uh, yes. That sounds great.\" I shrugged.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n(Hey guys, if y'ah liked this writing, then feel free to join me in my mission to participate in prompts daily at [r/JackWrites](https://www.reddit.com/r/jackwrites/about), or follow me at [u/TheHigHumper](https://www.reddit.com/user/TheHigHumper). Thanks :D)\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
Courtesy of u/theprofessaur	[WP] For thousands of years, mimes have guarded the world from invisible enemies. But one day, you are granted invisibility by some force, and you decide it's time to beat the mimes asses...	[ "The mime stood there, hands in front of him, pressed against an imaginary wall. \n\n\nThe small crowd of people watched, unimpressed. \n\n\nThe mime shifted his body, his motions were jerky. He pretended to be trapped in boxes and bump into walls. \n\n\nThe crowd remained unimpressed. A few a chucked a coin or two into the hat he placed on the ground. Others just left. Children looked on with boredom on their faces. \n\n\nIn all honesty his technique was sloppy. The old mime simply didn't have it in him today. Why should he have to lower himself in such a way? Him? A member of an ancient and secret order of warriors? Could these tourists possibly even imagine the number of times he had saved them? Could they believe the countless of times he fought off or captured a creature right before their eyes, without them knowing? But those days were over, they had been for many years. It was better this way anyways, let people be happy in their ignorance. Even if it meant mimes like himself couldn't reap the rewards and glory they deserved. \n\n\nSuddenly, the old mime felt a fist slam into his jaw. He fell over. Confused, he slowly lifted himself. He never managed to get to his feet though, for something slammed into his chest, knocking him backwards. It felt like a foot. \n\n\nAn invisible man? Impossible. The invisible men had been gone for decades now. Besides, even if it was an invisible man, the mime had the Sight, he should be able to see it. Was he simply going senile? \n\n\nAs the mime lifted himself again, he noticed that the small crowd had suddenly grown. He couldn't think on it however, because he was then struck from behind. The mime swung back in retaliation, but hit nothing. Again something struck him, now smashing his knee. It must've been an invisible man, but why on earth couldn't he see it!? \n\n\nThen it dawned on the mime. The horrible explanation finally occurred to the old, bad tempered, warrior. He had broken his vows. He had spoken , not two weeks ago, when a passerby poured some coffee on him and he cussed the bastard out. The punishment for breaking silence during the act of mimehood was such: he lost the Sight and the ability to speak at all for a long while. It was the price mimes payed to be able to see their invisible foes. At the time, he didn't really care. Now he couldn't see what was attacking him, nor could he call for help.\n\n\nThe invisible man's vicious attack continued, blow after blow drilling into his chest. He was lifted and thrown onto the cold hard pavement. He was put into arm bars and leg locks. He did his best to fight back, but it was hopeless.\n\n\nOnce the mime was beaten and broken, a pair of hands gripped him by his throat, and lifted him up against a wall. The mime saw that the crowd had now grown greatly. Nearly everyone in the area had come to watch as he kicked and struggled, levitating in the air. \n\n\nSlowly the mime's resistance ended. His lifeless body dropped, and was now seated, leaning on the wall. \n\n\nFor a few moments, everyone was completely silent, watching to see if the mime would get up. Then the people burst into enthusiastic applause and cheers. \n\n\nIt was the greatest mime act any of them had ever seen. " ]	1
	[WP] You are in a coma but little bits of reality start to bleed through and into your dreams.	[ "The start of another day. Light flows across my eyes before I open them. The incessant beeping that brings me back to my world once again. A steady, pulsing beep that lets me know I'm still alive. I struggle to rise. A struggle that seems to get more difficult each morning. Yet one I refuse to lose, including today.\n\nAs I enter the kitchen, I sense breakfast is already waiting for me. The aroma of bacon snaps me fully awake. A hint of toasted bread in the air with the sweetness of grape jelly on it. The smell of cooked eggs, although I can't be sure if they are scrambled or over easy. A lovely way to get things moving, even though I didn't feel hungry at the moment.\n\nThe sound of a door opens and I pick up a new smell. Fresh flowers, roses this time. In the past few days the winds from outside have brought in a veritable bouquet of natural scents. Most recently I had detected lilacs, lavender, and even a hint of orchids. The local nurseries were apparently working overtime on their blooms.\n\nIt was looking to be a beautiful day outside. I could hear bits and pieces of conversations whispering on the wind. Lots of talking, and I couldn't understand a single word. It was something like being in the main hall of an apartment building or office tower with every door open. Most of the nearby residents must be in their front or back yards conversing in order for me to be able to hear them at all.\n\nThe weather and neighbors didn't really matter to me, though. My entire plan for the day wouldn't require me to spend any time out of doors. The tune of the opening sequence of some show began flowing from the television. I laid out on the couch and began watching. In the background, the door closes. It seems slightly odd for a moment that not all of the conversational sounds of my neighbors disappear and the floral scents don't vanish. None of that mattered, really. I had some downtime coming. I wasn't going to let anything interrupt my enjoyment of my afternoon stories.\n\n.....\n\n“Doctor, are you sure there has been no change?”\n\n“Yes, Mrs. Robertson. There is autonomic brain activity and he is breathing on his own. However, there are no indications of higher brain functions. His reflexes appear to be intact but he makes no active attempts to withdraw from gradually increasing levels of pain stimulus.”\n\n“Will he get any better? Please, tell me he will get better.”\n\n“Right now, we just don't know. It seems like the head injury from the car crash last week has mostly healed. It's something deeper that still seems to be ailing him. Until we figure out what that is, we won't know if he will get any better.”\n\n“Thank you doctor. Is there anything any of us can do to make him better?”\n\n“Right now, no. Just keep doing what you are. The daily flowers are keeping his room bright. The television and talking to him are offering some stimulation. While we don't have any proof that talking to a comatose patient helps, it certainly doesn't hurt.”", "“Good morning dear.” Said the love of my life. She reached over from her side of the bed and grabbed my hand as she tried to lift herself up. I look over at her and give her a weak smile.\n\n“Yeah, good morning to you too.”\n\n“What’s wrong you don’t look well. Do you have a fever?” she asked putting her hand to my forehead.\n\n“No, I’m fine. I just had a nightmare last night and couldn’t get back to sleep.”\n\n“Well if it was just a nightmare why didn’t you wake me up. I would have gladly stayed up until you went to sleep.” She giggled slipping into her little fluffy slippers.\n\nShe walked into the kitchen to get her usual breakfast. A glass of orange juice, a slice of toast with half butter half strawberry jam, and a banana. I never went to sleep last night. I haven’t gone to sleep in months. I can’t go to sleep. Every time I try to go to sleep there’s a sharp ringing in my ears followed by everything fading to black. Not long after that it gets harder to breathe and my chest gets heavy. Then my vision becomes sort of like a television on the fritz. There’s static everywhere, the image in focus is distorted, and everything keeps snapping in and out of place. I can’t escape it because it persists even after I close my eyes. All the while people are screaming and shouting as if they were being torn apart by a pack of dogs.\n\nEventually my vision returns to normal, but everything is different. Well not everything because she is still here somewhere. Sometimes she’s there with me, and other times she’s somewhere unreachable. I want to sleep so badly, but I don’t want to go through the pain it brings. I feel like garbage when I don’t at least try to sleep, but I’m scared of losing her forever.\n\n“Are you going to get out of bed you lazy butt.” She called from the hallway that joined our bedroom and the kitchen.\n\n“Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute.” I said dragging myself out of bed. My limbs felt like lead and I had a throbbing headache. I fell on the wall and used it to prop myself up as I dragged myself to the kitchen. As I rounded the corner to the hallway she was missing.\n\n“If you don’t hurry you’re going to be late.”\n\nThis time she was much further. It sounded like she was standing by the front door now. As I hobbled into the kitchen I felt a wave of exhaustion hit me like an ocean swell. I don’t want to go through it again. I don’t want to lose her again. I pushed myself off the wall to limp towards where I had last heard her. I opened the door joining our kitchen to the front room to see her standing in the open doorframe leading to our front yard.\n\n“Come on you don’t want to keep everyone waiting do you?” she giggled. I felt my vision get blurry as tears welled up within me. I wasn’t going to make it to her. I made it about half way through the front room before I collapsed. She just stood there watching me as I slowly faded out. The floor was so cold. Everything around me grew colder until I felt like I was in a block of ice.\n\n“Everyone out.”\n\n“Please just a little longer.”\n\n“You all need to leave.”\n\n“I’m not leaving him.”\n\n“Security get these people out of here.”\n\nThere's the voices again. Is this the sixth or seventh time? I can’t remember now. The screams and cries always scare me. I just want them to go away for good. The black was fading out to reveal the new world I’m coming in to. Even through the static I could make it out. It was the world I had just left. She was still waiting for me in the doorframe. I’m coming home soon so don’t worry about me. As the distortion slowed and the static faded things started moving again. She was running over to me.\n\n“Oh my god! Are you okay?” She cried as she put my head in her lap.\n\n“No, I don’t think so. I think I should just call out today until I can actually walk.”\n\n“I think you should as well. We’re going to get you back to bed and then I’m going to make you some chicken soup.”\n\nShe put my arm around her and she walked me back to bed. My headache was gone, but everything was just a few degrees cooler. It’s not like it mattered to me. At least I was home with her.", "The vast open spaces of Utah stretched on forever in every direction. She drove with the top down and let the wind whip around her hair, done up in a red polka-dotted bandanna. The red hills in the distance were intensified by her winged rose-colored sunglasses so that the whole state looked like a science fiction novel.\n\nSomething streaked across the sky. She thought it looked like a saucer. \n\nA mile ahead, she spied a figure on the side of the road, arm outstretched and thumb pointed heavenward. She slowed the car as she approached and coasted to a stop. \"Where to?\"\n\nThe hitchhiker wore a nurse's outfit, the kind you find in a Halloween store with a short white skirt and a cap with a red cross. She carried nothing but a clipboard. \"Anywhere but here,\" she smiled.\n\n\"That makes two of us, hop in.\"\n\nThe hitchhiker didn't even bother to open the door, but instead vaulted herself into the passenger's seat with an ease uncharacteristic of someone flaunting two-inch heels.\n\n\"What's with the costume?\" The car pulled back onto the road and speedometer climbed.\n\n\"Oh, it's not a costume, I'm a nurse.\"\n\n\"I thought these days nurses wore, like, scrubs.\"\n\n\"Hm? If you say so.\" Suddenly the nurse was wearing a newly-pressed set of scrubs with little red hearts along the seams.\n\n\"What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?\"\n\n\"I'm on duty.\" The driver frowned, but didn't push any further. The nurse pulled a pen from her shirt pocket and clicked it with her thumb. \"Now,\" she started, \"How's your vision?\"\n\nThe driver furrowed her brow and held a hand in front of her face, squinting. \"Uuuuh, fine I guess.\"\n\n\"Not that vision,\" said the nurse, \"the vision. All this.\" She waved the tip of the pen in a circle, gesturing to everything and nothing in particular. \"To your liking?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure what you're talking about.\"\n\n\"Good! If there were anything wrong with it, you'd understand. So we'll say it's been stable.\" The nurse scribbled on the clipboard. \"Would you say you've been satisfied with your stay?\"\n\n\"What stay?\"\n\n\"Do you like the hills? The sky? The car? The radio stations?\" Suddenly, the radio began to play classic rock, then country, then pop, then turned itself off. \n\n\"Well, I've always liked Utah...\" the driver trailed off, absently.\n\n\"Utah?\" the nurse glanced around. \"Is that where we are? I thought it was Wyoming. The west all looks the same to me. But you like it, and that's what matters. Now, if you have no further comments or suggestions, it's time we got going.\"\n\n\"But I thought that's what I was doing. Going.\"\n\n\"Sure, but for real now. The car will only get you so far.\"\n\n\"For real?\" The driver was becoming increasingly bewildered.\n\n\"Oh honey,\" said the nurse, \"none of this is genuine. You were supposed to realize that within hours of check-in. This is all up here.\" She tapped her temple with her pen. \"See?\" She clicked her pen and the roar of the wind stopped. The car sped a hundred miles down the road in perfect silence. She clicked the pen again and they were in a forest on a mountain road, leisurely navigating a tightly winding road.\n\nThe driver's mind went blank in a long moment of incomprehension. Her vision blacked and she slumped back in her seat.\n\n\"Oh dear,\" muttered the nurse. Her pen clicked and the car came to a stop. The sun filtered through aspens and dappled the leather seats. The nurse waited.\n\nWhen the driver came to, she was crying. \"How long has it been?\" she asked.\n\n\"Only a few minutes,\" assured the nurse.\n\n\"I meant the coma.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" the nurse checked her clipboard. \"Three years, twenty-four days, and six hours.\"\n\n\"Do they remember me? My family?\"\n\n\"Of course they do! What a silly question. That's why I'm here, hon. Your time in this world is up.\"\n\n\"I'm dying?\"\n\n\"Heavens no! You're waking up! Goodness, no need to get so dramatic. Say the word and bam!, you'll be lying in a hospital bed in Michigan.\"\n\n\"I bet I'll look a mess.\"\n\n\"Most likely, yes. Three years is a long time.\"\n\nA breeze came over the car and ruffled the driver's scarf. Songbirds whistled. \n\n\"Can we stay here a moment?\" the driver asked.\n\n\"Just a moment, I suppose.\"\n\nThe car had stopped in the gravel of a scenic lookout, and together they watched a waterfall as it fell into a river below.", "I've almost forgotten. The accident, the hospital. The world I've constructed in this bed is basically the same. She's here, well my image of her at least. The only time I'm reminded of my \"condition\" with her is when I win our fights. When I first slipped into the coma it felt as though I was trapped in one of those stock framed photos. The ones where you're suppose to take the original photo, with a terrifyingly happy family, and replace it with a picture of a loving, real family, so-so on the happiness spectrum. Placed in a world eerily similar to mine, but devoid of emotion I filled it. Where emptiness reminded me of the fact that I was trapped in a coma, I replaced it with what I remembered from reality. And where emptiness reminded me of the life I led before the coma... well I just left it for realism's sake. Now, the world outside this bed only pokes through in my dreams. My mother's hand on mine, my brother's laugh, these are the clues that something is not quite right in my realm. Some days though, they're just dreams. I wake up and turn to her, telling her of this horrible nightmare where I wrecked my car and was in a coma. She'll calm me back to sleep, telling me it was only a dream. Soon, that's all they'll be. Everything from before, just one bad dream. ", "With the final swing of my blade, I rend the Titan in two, and the cheer of the city fills my ears.\n\n\"Reg-in-ald! Reg-in-ald!\" The crowd yells, their face a mixture of pure ecstasy and adrenaline. I give them a wink, (And hit them with the finger guns; my signature move) before floating down from the skies, like a messiah, and into their loving arms.\n\nI don't think I'll ever get sick of the sensation of 1,000 hands desperately clawing past each other just to get a glancing touch on my body. It's like being a bath of velvet; aggressive, sometimes horny, velvet. \n\n\"Reginald,\" The mayor yells, a marching band of brass singing a tune that bleeds my name behind him. \"You've saved this city yet again. We're indebted to you, like usual, is there anything we can do.\"\n\n\"Haha,\" I laugh, humbly. \"No, your thanks is all I need.\" \n\nThe smile of a mayor is a thing of beauty. With a loving hand, he holds my shoulder and says, \"Please... just wake up.\" \n\n...\n\n\"What?\" I ask. \"I don't think I could hear you over the screaming and loving fans of mine. Don't blame them,\" I hear several women get pregnant as I turn and give them another dashing smile. \"It's only natural.\" \n\n\"I said, you're too grand!\" The mayor laughs, and a joyous explosion erupts around me. \n\n\"Reg-in-ald!\" They sing again. Oh, how they sing, like a chorus of angels. I lean down and throw my hand around; I demand another hymn, another verse, I want to hear my name drown out the world. \n\n\"I need you!\" The crowd cheers. \n\n\"I know!\" I yell back, smiling so wide, so hard, god it hurts. \n\n\"I miss you! Come back; I can't do this anymore,\" \n\nI hold my head. God, this hurts.\n\n\"Every day I wake up, and I thank God you didn't die. I consider myself blessed just because YOU didn't die and I don't even know why; I'm not the one stuck laying in this fucking bed for months after being hit by a truck. You are, you are Reginald, but you're not dead, you didn't die, fuck. I hate how melancholy this all feels. You're not dead; that's great. You're not alive though, are you? Are you?\"\n\nThe city fades, and I'm alone. My world is fading. \n\n\"Please, just wake up.\" \n\nAnd I do.\n\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\nCheck out /r/Rhysyjay for other neat stuff. \n\n" ]	5
	[WP] Somehow, you screwed up so badly that we've now been caught up in an intergalactic war. What the hell did you do!?!	[ "\"I did nothing; and I'm offended that you think otherwise.\" I replied. We'd only just managed to reach our ship in the wake of the violence in the Arkanon throne room. While I was catching my breath, my uptight partner had been wasting her own hot air to accuse a perfectly innocent man of starting a war. The indignity!\n\n\"Bullshit!\" she retorted. \"I was wrapping up negotiations on the travel route when I hear what sounds like a cat vomiting slugs in a blender, and then the fucking earpiece translates that into 'The beasts are murderers, traitors, false; kill, flee, kill, flee, kill.'\"\n\n\"Well, was it flee or kill then?\"\n\n\"Both apparently! I know you were by my side when negotiations started, I know you left my side when you got bored, and I saw you running away with a stupid look on your face when that infernal sound started. What, the fuck, did, you do?!\" There was an absolute rage in her eyes at this point. \n\nI figured that I was one wrong move from becoming an \"unfortunately my partner didn't survive the incident\" line on her report. Ergo, I played it off, smooth-like: \"All I did was try to make friends, real genuine connections between our people and theirs. You can't possibly fault me for pursuit of our diplomatic purpose!\" I tried to assume my best expression of seriousness, which, I've been told, appears as serious as a drunken Koala trying to get bubblegum out of it's fur. Such an endeavor sounds quite a serious matter if I say so myself, and I am therefore quite seriously proud of my ability to appear so serious. As a fortunate side effect, I find that my serious face requires so much seriousness that there is none left for nearby comrades who instead devolve into laughing fits in the face of my severity. Unfortunately, there must have been a great deal of seriousness in the ship that day, as the Captain's only response was to bulge that gross vein on her forehead.\n\n\"How. Did. You. 'make friends?'\" she asked with the demeanor of a woman choking on a particularly vile, blood-rage inducing fruit.\n\n\"Well, you know what a Twinkie is? Delightful dessert? Unable to spoil? Mankind's greatest wonder? The Pinnacle of our technological advancement? Well, I brought some; and I was gonna share.\"\n\n\"And how did you fuck that up...?\" The blood vessel was trying to secede from the forehead at this point. Even it agreed she was being unreasonable, you must understand. \n\n\"I showed the princess a Twinkie, and to my absolute shock the Arkonens have also discovered this genious invention. She seemed so surprised to see mine that she rushed out to grab hers.\"\n\n\"No.\" \n\n\"Yes! It was adorable, but it kinda had an odd texture. Their cake is a lot smoother than ours is, and a little less spongey. Anyway, we swapped Twinkies in gesture of Goodwill, and she started cooing over mine like it was a doll made of magnificent pastry flesh\"\n\n\"NO. NO. God fucking damnit!\"\n\n\"Don't be mad, I would have called you over too, but you were busy being boring. Anyway, I was shocked to see how they had taken the Twinkie and mixed the concept with that of the only slightly inferior jelly donut. Good combjnation on paper I guess, but my God the jelly was nasty.\"\n\n\"YOU FUCKING IDIOT. THAT WASN'T A TWINKIE; YOU ATE THE KING'S GRANDAUGHTER! AGGHHHHH!\" At which point she lunged at me and tried to take out all of the rage she held over what I can only assume was my failure to share the royal Twinkie that the princess gave me. It was quite unreasonable to say the least. Of course, I tried to make things right by shoving Twinkies into her mouth, but I guess she wouldn't be satisfied with an earth Twinkie. Anyway, I had to hit her with my emergency lucky horseshoe to get her to calm down and go to sleep. Once we landed on Earth, the federation took her side, can you believe that!? \n\nAnyway, that's why I'm in jail now; what about you guys?\n\n\n\n " ]	1
	[WP] Your reflection offers you its hand and says, "It's time you met the rest of us."	[ "The florescent lights gave off a dull buzzing as Michael stared back at the bathroom mirror. His reflection kept its hand out, and offered a welcoming smile.\n\n\"Excuse me?\", Michael asked, not really managing to get his head around the situation. He looked down to see his own hands gripping the edges of the off-white porcelain sink. It's surface was still wet from the water he had been aggressively splashing in his face.\n\nThe reflection let out a chuckle and looked him up and down. \n\n\"Would you rather stay?\" it responded; hand slowly drifting back to its side.\n\nAt that, Michael offered something between a grunt and a laugh, and turned his head to stare at the bathroom door. The cheap lights couldn't reach far, so they left the doorway in flickering dimness. It almost seemed like the events going on outside the door were trying to worm their way in and fill this space with their reminders. \n\nJust like they had with everything else.\n\nMichael glanced back to the mirror. His reflection had decided to mimic his pose, but he could tell the difference. It was the eyes. There was more life in them than he had felt in a long time.\n\nAnd just like that, he loosened his grip on the sink. People had always told him that you couldn't just run away from your problems, but maybe they just hadn't been able to run far enough. Maybe... maybe he could leave it all behind.\n\n\"What if this is a trap,\" Michael said, not really caring, \"You're probably a demon that preys on people when they're at their weakest.\" His hand was already reaching out. \"In the bathroom mirror of a church. No end of victims I bet.\" \n\nThe reflection shook its head, the smile on its face growing wide, like someone who knows the punchline of a joke by heart, but is waiting for you to give them the set-up. Its hand was extended once again.\n\nWithout ceremony, Michael's hand passed through the mirror's surface, and clasped his reflection's. It felt like a human hand, but something seemed to be off. There was an unknown sensation that felt entirely different some anything he had ever experienced in his thirty-eight years of life, and yet was seemed oddly familiar. And just as that thought crossed his mind, the joke's set-up came bubbling to the surface.\n\n\"Crossing over is going to hurt, isn't it?\" he asked the man on the other side of the mirror.\n\nHis reflection could hardly keep the joyous laughter from his voice as he completed their dumb little ritual.\n\n\"No more than usual.\"\n\nAnd then he pulled.\n\nAnd then the stars rushed past.\n\nAnd then the brothers were gone.", "Daniel glanced around, his appearance was haggard. Deep lines marked his face, he had not slept in days. He pleaded to no one in particular “Am I going crazy?” For days Daniel’s reflection was... well, not quite his. Daniel had first noticed it turning away from the mirror at school, his reflection had taken just a second too long to turn with him. Several instances of his reflection defying logic had left Daniel afraid and paranoid.\n\nHe had tried to hide from his reflection, tried to keep his eyes closed, anything to avoid a confrontation with his own reflections. The more he tried to avoid seeing his reflection acting up, the more it seemed to try and catch his attention. The reflection regarded him curiously, popping up in dishes, windows and drops of water. However curiosity wasn’t on Daniel’s mind, quite the opposite as he cowered in corners too scared to look. \nFinally he couldn’t take it anymore, in a moment of feigned courage he confronted a mirror. “Oy! What’s the matter here, why aren’t you acting normal?” His voice shook. The reflection popped in and regarded him “You’re the one not acting normal.” Shocked Daniel staggered back “Wh-What was da?”. The reflection looked him over again and as Daniel composed himself he asked again “How can you speak?”. The reflection didn’t hesitate “Perhaps it’s better if you see for yourself” and he pulled Daniel through the mirror’s frame.\n\nDaniel tumbled through, confused he stared at his reflection. “Where am I?” “You’re on the opposite side” the reflection said, “The opposite side?” Daniel echoed. “Yes, your world is a reflection of this world.” Daniel gave a nervous chuckle “Don’t you mean the other way around?” “I’m afraid not Daniel, ask yourself why I know of you but you don’t know of me.”. “You’re just a relfection” Daniel countered. “No, You are the reflection!” and at that the reflection stepped through the mirror. \n\nDaniel felt his body move involuntarily. The reflection was regarding him through the mirror, a wicked smile curling his lips “I am free” he spoke and while Daniel could feel his lips move, the sound came from his reflection. Daniel struggled, but it was no use and horror started to spread over his face. The reflection saw “It gets worse” he whispered, “so much worse”. The reflection left the mirror and Daniel tumbled into darkness. Shapes moved about him and countless eyes seemed to regard him. Before the terror of his situation could fully sink in Daniel was torn to pieces. Reflecting off of windows, a vase and the eyes of his mother he felt transparent, broken. He tried to reach out, to yell, but it was no use." ]	2
	[WP] You were criogenically frozen after an accidental death in your early 30s and you managed to be resurrected almost 250 years later by request of your great granddaughter. Now, you're trying to fit into your family and the future society in general.	[ "\"Weeellll back in my day we didn't have all these fancy smancy car thangies\" said grandpa in his most gruff voice he can use \"weee had to hoof it up hills in freezing cold temperatures.\" \n\n\"You guys havd cars back then\" Said Anne the eldest of the three children.\n\n\"Didn't anyone teach yah to respect your elders\" Said Grandpa \"Anywhoosers, While we climbed the hills GIANT BURDS came down swooping on us. They were as big as a dog and can big up little children.\"\n\nThe two youngest children were on the edge of there seats waiting for the next part of the story. The oldest one however rolled her eyes and continued to browse the Galanet through her Eye phone. \n\n\"One day on my way to school with my friends the burds were extra feisty. They swooped down and picked up one of my friends and dropped a mile away. He had two broken ribs. He couldn't go to school for two months.\"\n\n\"Why did he have to wait to months to go back to school grandpa?\" said the nine year old middle child.\n\n\"Well you see champ, weeee didn't have all this high tech medical doohickies. We had to carry him back to his house and his momma tried her best to fix his ribs.\" \n\n\"You guys really didn't have hospitals back then\" said the oldest one trying to feint disinterest.\n\n\"No. We had to rely on the mysterious 'Web MD' to heal ourselves\" Granpa said with a chuckle.\n\n\"Wow 2017 must've been a crazy time\" Said the youngest one\n\nCriticism needed r/barneysandaswrites" ]	1
	[WP] "Explain this once more, Detective. You were conducting surveillance where? And you saw someone exit the building, carrying...what? You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, don't you?"	[ "I take a deep breath and sigh again. \n\n\"So once more from the top. We still have open surveillance warrants against the Zakoski Family.\" I said as I poured myself a fifth shot of rum. \n\n\"Alecksander Dubrinov walked into the house, I had correctly identified as a Zakoski safehouse, empty handed. Yet every time he walked out, he was had boxes full of old iPhone chargers. You know the old fat ones.\" I could tell my supervisor was getting impatient. \"Not just in the boxes too. He also had them draped over his arms, around his waist, and even some used as suspenders for his pants.\"\n\nI took a long drag of the cigarette. \"I tell you sarge it was fuckin weird.\" This from my partner Laneybottom Frumplebuff. \"He would make three to four trips in and out of this house an hour. Each time depositing a ridiculous amount of iPhone chargers in his black SUV.\" I added again. \n\n\"So let me get this straight.\" Our sergeant said before taking a large drink of rum at the bar. \"The Zakoski crime family just up and disappears, criminally speaking, two years ago. You decide to just randomly tail one of them and follow them to a safehouse? Why? Were you bored?\" \n\nMy partner did not recognize the rhetorical nature of the question. \n\n\"Basically.\"\n\nThe sergeant shot him an annoyed look and continued. \n\n\"So after finding their new safe house you do not find guns, you do not find drugs, no money laundering, no girls, no gambling, and no muscle? Just friggin old assed iPhone chargers?\"\n\nI take another shot of rum before laying a few bills on the counter to close out my tab with the bar. \"Thats the gist of it.\" I said turning to him. \n\n\"What does it even mean?\" He asked even more confused than before. \n\n\"I don't know sarge. Allz I know is that I found their new safe house and instead of criminal activity... I found iphone chargers.\" I said finishing my cigarette. \n\nThe sergeant finished his drink and laid a few bills on the bar as well. \"Alright tomorrow take Frumplebuff here and write up the report. I will sign off on it and we will just pretend none of this ever happened from here on out.\" He said clearly annoyed. \n\n\"You got it sarge.\" I said as I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. It would be a ten minute walk from the bar to my apartment. Something told me I would have to make a small detour on the way. \n\n\"Did it work?\" The voice came from the alley. \n\n\"They fell for it hook line and sinker. Instead of worrying about what you are up to now, they just want to know what the hell is up with the iPhone chargers.\" I said as I took an envelope. \"Next time use guitar picks. If iPhone chargers threw them off, then guitar picks will drive them insane.\" I said as I turned to leave, not even sure if the man in the alley were still there. " ]	1
	[WP] You are a gamer. You've been playing games for as long as you can remember. But one day when a lightning strikes down your live wires, you find yourself inside a gaming world.	[ "I had been tapping away on my iPad for 10 minutes now, trying to finally destroy that enemy base. My fingers flew, as I struck box after box, sending waves upon waves of Wall Cats, Dragon Cats, and Titan Cats at the enemy forces. My parents would be home in 1 hour, and this game was the perfect way to pass the time.\n\nAll I needed was to have Bahamut Cat get in just one more hit on the enemy boss. One. More...\n\n----\n\nI awoke inside a metal-plated, silvery room. What had happened? As far as I could remember, there was a flash, an explosion, and I had ended up here. The only thing that made the room distinctive was a wooden door, with a golden knob with a cat paw on it.\n\nWait, a cat's paw? No... it couldn't be... I opened the door and what I saw shocked me.\n\nFirstly, I noticed that this new room had the same wall design as the Cat Base; deep green, with khaki spiral designs. Secondly, instead of other people, there were Cats absolutely everywhere! Rotund, white, constantly smiling Cats, running around, talking with others, playing games, getting prepared for battle, you name it.\n\nI stepped forward, only to hear a shrill, squeaky voice cry out — \"Everynyan, look! The general woke up, nya!\"\n\nIn front of me was an upright, short, stout feline figure, wearing spiral glasses and a scientist's outfit. I instantly recognized this curious being as Prof. Cat Jobs from the game I was playing, but what was it doing here? I inquired as to what had happened.\n\nThe response? \"You... you don't remember, nya? Everyone here knows about you! You were the one that gave us orders... the one that lead us to victory! Never again will the nefarious Teacher Bun Bun plague our kind, and it's all thanks to you, nya!\"\n\nAs soon as he finished, I heard a deep, slow, somewhat stunted voice from the back. \"But, he gets us killed by the thousands, nya.\" Looking up, I realized it was a Titan Cat. The muscular figure stared at me angrily, showing me the first outright frown I had ever seen from a Battle Cat.\n\nProf. Cat Jobs quickly responded with, \"Nonsense! Pure nonsense! After all, you can't make Cat Food without opening a few tins, right?\" That seemed to get a laugh from the crowd, and the angry Titan Cat quickly backed down.\n\n\"So, uh, how do I get back to my world?\", I asked. Prof. Cat Jobs seemed to remember something. \"Ah, that reminds me! Head over through that door over there\", he interjected, pointing to a shutter to my left, \"and we'll tell you what we had planned.\" I did as he asked, wondering if I would ever see my family again.\n\n----\n\nThe door appeared to lead to the outside, where a Cat was organizing a huge mob of lesser fighters. \"Ah, I was told about you!\", it blurted out. \"We'll be setting off to Galapa-Goth Laboratory in 5 minutes, nya, to recover their stolen nuclear reactor. Once we have it, we can travel to any point in space and time we want, nya!\"\n\n\"Think we'll be able to get it in an hour?\", I asked. \"Well, that depends on how good our strategy is, nya.\", responded the Cat. \"If we can execute a good attack plan and use our forces efficiently, we'll be back in time to watch the Archer Cat Show. If we fail, though... it could take years for you to get home, nya!\"\n\nAfter a long pause, the Cat inquired, \"So, you wanna set off now?\" Accepting my responsibility, I beckoned the Cat forces to action, prepared to face off against that demonic anglerfish...", " I'm so fucking scared, I'm hiding in a closet right now looking at walls that are dirty and covered in blood and rust. Everything's dark and my flashlight is the only thing allowing me to see, I don't know how to get out and I've been through so much pain. It started during that damn storm, I hope this is a dream. I used to be a boring guy, my life and body weren't too good so I distracted myself with video games. I had just plugged in my old PS2 to play some of my older games when something...crazy happened.\n\n I was going through Silent Hill 3 when lighting hit my house. The game system lit up and I felt the shock go through my entire body, I passed out afterwards. When I woke up I felt so odd, I was laying on the ground on my chest, my chest felt weird, there was a breeze going up my clothes hitting... something since there was only a skirt covering my legs and there was a smell of death and rust in the air. \n\n It was too dark to see so I felt the ground around me and ran my hand against a grated floor that had rust all over it. There was a light flickering down the hall ahead of me so I stood up kind of off balance and put my hand on the wall for support. I was using the wall as a guide until I was a few steps away from the light, when I was about to be able to reach it I felt something wet and warm. I could see better at that point and looked at my hand to see it was smaller and feminine while covered in some dark liquid. \n\n I looked over and saw there was a gun next to the flashlight causing the light. After wiping my hand on my skirt I picked up the flashlight and the gun. My hand holding the gun was stained red and when I looked down at myself I was wearing different clothes. There were boots, an orange shirt, a white vest, and a green skirt along with orange sweatbands on my wrist. My skin was still pale but I saw more freckles than I was used to have, there was also medium length dirty blonde hair blocking some of my view. I could tell I was some woman but I think the storm made me forget a lot of things for a second. \n\n I heard a noise above me and [looked up](https://static.giantbomb.com/uploads/original/6/62890/1531184-heather.jpg) to see a giant... thing with a small head with a flat face and two really long arms that ended with big bludgeons. It was a floor above me and it scared me but also made me remember what was going on... it didn't make sense but I knew what was going on. After heading to another place to avoid the monster I ran into another one and shot it in its face after a few tries, it went down after two shots. I felt my heart racing so I stood with the back of my head against a wall, I was Heather and I didn't know what to do.\n\n Later on after looking at maps and getting far I found the red glowing symbol and touched it which made me feel sick and get a headache. I found a shotgun eventually and used that on the bigger monsters. I eventually fought a thing with blades after finding Harry dead, the monster killed me though and I was back in the apartment where I touched the symbol. The memory of the blade going through my stomach was still there... it hurt so bad but I was alright then. \n\n It's been a few hours and I'm fucking surrounded, I don't want to die again so I'm in a closet but I can't stay here forever. I'm low in ammo and I don't have a lot of the heath drinks that somehow heal me. I want out but I don't know how..." ]	2
	[WP] Write about someone's everyday commute as if it were an epic hero story even though it's mundane.	[ "\nEveryday I wake up, eat cereal, brush my teeth, and head to the bus to get to work. It's the same thing time and again, in and out, back and forth. It's a boring routine but it's mine, and it's one I plan on having for the rest of my life.\n\nYou see, I'm a simple man, an average man, whose accepted my role in this world as an average human being. I walk up to the bus with a few dollars in my pocket, just enough to buy me a cheap lunch at Cafeteria C. I take out my CD player and pop in a chill mixtape my mom made for me before she passed away. I skip through the songs until I get A New Day Has Come by Céline Dion and close my eyes as the music echoes through my skull. \n\n'Excuse me sir but you wouldn't happen to have a dollar I can borrow' an old woman asks. Her face is wrinkled to leather, she has shaking hands, and speaks through a hoarse throat. 'I guess I can just head down to Cafeteria D for lunch' I think to myself as I take out my wallet. I hand her a dollar and watch as her eyes light up. 'God bless you kind sir' she said as she strode off. \n\nThe chorus of the song plays as the bus pulls up to my stop. A crowd of people enter and I get in line. I get somewhere towards the back of the bus where I can lean my head back and take a quick nap before getting to work. I manage to get a window seat. My attention is drawn to the old woman at the bus stop, she has appeared to have stopped asking for change and is wandering off somewhere. I crank my head to see where she's going and see her straighten up her back and begin to walk upright. A car pulls up and a man wearing a thick set of gold chains gets out of the car. He has a cigarette already lit and he hands her one and lights it for her as soon as he sees her. I see them talking for a little bit then she reaches inside her shirt and takes out a huge wad of cash.\n\n'Hey, that lady has more money that I've ever seen' I thought to myself as I remember sacrificing my dollar for her. I see them both laughing while drinking glasses of wine and felt an anger rise up inside of me. I lunge out of my seat and go to get out the bus, the doors are closing. 'Shit!' I thought to myself 'I think I might have just enough time'. I summoned up the courage and bolted for the door. My arm was able to make it out of the door just before it sliced my arm clean off. \n\n'Gyahhh!' I screamed as I fell to my knees and began gushing blood from the open wound in my arm. \n\n'Somebody stop the bus! This man is bleeding all over the place' an elderly black woman cried out. The bus driver stopped the bus and my door open. I exited the bus and nearly tripped over my severed arm. I ran at the con artist old lady and her thug boyfriend screaming wildly. \n\nThe old woman took out a gun. 'Stop!' She yelled, but I didn't stop. She shot me directly in the head. Everything went black. ", "Fifteen minutes - that's how long it takes for my weekday's trip to my university. Apparently, time seems to be dilated that one day.\n\nThere's a girl sitting in front of me: blonde, freckled, with lips cracked from the cold. As they say in my perverted mind, \"A wood that doesn't quiver is a sign of ugly dinner.\" \n\nFive minutes later, she stood up to alight from the bus. I saw a girly purse under the chair; that's when the time dilation begins. My heart went into a fury of palpitation and I experienced familiar feeling of derealisation.\n\nShould I be concerned? \n\nYes.\n\nShould I pretend to not be concerned? \n\nYou're the only one in the bus. Only you can give her back the wallet, be courageous for fuck's sake.\n\nBut there's another person, what about the bus driver? \n\nBus drivers are not humans; they are assholes.\n\nWhat should I say when I meet her?\n\nWho cares? Just do it! Be a hero!\n\nI regained my sense of presence. Looking at the front of the window, the light is now green and it's a matter of time before the wheels roll.\n\n\"Sorry, but can you open the door?\" I could see that the driver was surprised; shoulders don't lie. \n\nOutside of the bus, I smiled when I saw that the girl was not far off. Everything's fine now because the wallet is back in its owner's hand. She said thank you, we didn't hook up like in the movies, and went our separate ways. \n\nI was about to go to the bus stand when I saw, a few blocks away, a man with dark glasses and a stick trying to cross a busy road.\n\nTime dilated again and my inner voice whispered once more." ]	2
	[WP] A person from 1500 AD falls asleep and wakes up in modern times. They are unimpressed by what they find.	[ "The number of probes, and shots which he had to endure was tremendous. The scientists reported that he was surprisingly calm following his sudden existence 500 years in the future. \"Stoic\" was the word they used. He spent weeks in isolation followed by weeks of inoculations. He was constantly monitored, and quickly the results came in that he was truly a living relic of the 1500s.\n\nThey were sparing with the information. He was a Caucasian male born approximately 1500 A.D. from somewhere in France. The exact location was kept a closely guarded secret, but soon everyone believed themselves an expert on 1500s France. The History Channel ran non-stop shows on Medieval France which soon devolved into shows involving rednecks rampaging wine country in search of lost mummies. Months passed with only the occasional updates from the research team: He was adjusting quickly and learning constantly from his new environment, there was no understanding of how his immaculate preservation had been achieved, and he was slowly being prepped for existence in the world of the future. One of his favorite activities was following article after article on Wikipedia; he read incessantly.\n\nAfter almost 2 years, a press statement was released:\n\nThe subject of our research team's studies and the fascination of the world, Anthoine de Vieilz-Fretel, has passed away at our facility near Paris. He spent much of his last months bravely fighting sickness which his body had never known. It is with great remorse that we give the world the news of his passing. In his last days, he wrote a note addressed to the world.\n\nYou have achieved more than we ever dreamed possible. Your achievements are astounding: a man has walked on the moon, diseases have been cured, and quality of living is greater than any ever known. I fell asleep in a field in France, and woke in paradise. But even paradise has its flaws. In the time I have been here, I have struggled to learn as much about this new life as I could. And in doing so, I have seen your shortcomings. You now have the ability to wage war on any disease which threatens man, yet everyday people die from the most common of them all. You have unprecedented freedom and wealth, and with it comes corruption and greed. Today you have the ability to bring food to every hungry mouth in the world, yet starvation threatens millions.\n\nYou have been given more than you know. Each of you has greater opportunity than our greatest kings. Do not waste it." ]	1
	[WP] A smuggling vessel attempted a route rumoured to be cursed. Unknown to the smugglers, they were closely watched and protected in an operation to find a real threat.	[ "It was not unusual to feel a bit tense, trapped on a tiny tincan for weeks and months, with the endless black waiting just outside. On an ocean vessel you could at least go outside, maybe even take a swim; but here there was just no other option. It's not like he really wanted to be anywhere else - his books and the girl were enough entertainment for the five week trip - but the feeling alone that there was literally no possibility to leave those few rooms and corridors, that there was no \"Emergency, I want out!\"-button, that could weigh heavy on the mind.\n\nBut this time it was worse than usual, for obvious reasons. He wasn't superstitious, but he was too smart to just ignore the rumors and warnings. He would be glad to be back in safer sectors again - but this cargo was too important to let the greedy bastards at the IRS have their share of it.\n\nHis earpiece made a little sound. He touched the outside with his finger to establish connection. \"What is it?\"\n\n\"Skipper, I'm not sure what... I think you should come see this.\"\n\nHe turned his head, watching the lingerie-clad River sleeping on the bed, her hair disheveled, an expression of complete serenity on her face. \"On my way.\"\n\nHe put the blanket over the girl, then left the room and walked down the corridor. There was always something about the sound of his own steps in the silence of the spaceship, only the very soft humming of life support in the background. Truth be told, this atmosphere of loneliness and isolation out here was the biggest reason he liked his line of work. He wouldn't exchange that for anything. Except maybe some house in Norway or Canada, at some fjord or something. It would have to be very far away from civilization. And even then, it would still not be quite the same as this. Space was just so endless.\n\nHe met nobody on his way to the bridge. There, Engineer Goto was waiting for him. \"Morning.\" It was 2 a.m. by universal standard time, which of course meant absolutely nothing.\n\nKasumi looked apprehensive. \"It's not really a big deal, but I thought you ought to know.\" She pointed at one of the displays. \"First thing, the gravity of Charon is off. Could be a mistake with the sensors. Could also be another vessel. But I didn't get any other readings. I mean any. And it obviously can't just be stationary. Even the feds don't have this kind of technology.\"\n\nThe Captain stroked his beard. \"Russians?\"\n\nThe Korean girl shook her head. \"Unless they're way ahead of us...\" She noticed the slight annoyance on his face and quickly corrected herself. \"Them.\" The Captain didn't like when people referred to the government in first person.\n\n\"Well, we're not being attacked, that's good enough. What's the second thing?\"\n\nKasumi pointed to another display. It showed a thin white UI over black. The engineer brought up a menu. \"This is all the cosmic background noise over the last...\", she moved a slider to the right, and the display filled with little dots, \"four hours.\"\n\nCaptain Círdan raised his eyebrows. \"What the hell is that?\"\n\nThe dots weren't anything to worry about. Accumulated over several hours, cosmic radiation was strong enough to show on their displays. What was worrying was that the little dots left out a big, black space in the middle.\n\n\"It must be some kind of big object in the way. Thing is, there shouldn't be anything here. Not to mention the, uh...\"\n\n\"The shape? It looks like a fucking squid.\"\n\n\"Uh, yes. That's what I thought too, Captain.\"\n\n\"What's the visual?\"\n\nEngineer Goto looked up surprised, then blushed. \"Uh, I...\"\n\n\"...forgot to check that. Of course you have. You kids today.\"\n\nHe gave her a smirk, indicating that he wasn't actually mad at her. Of course, there was usually very little point in looking out of the window - space was so vast that enemy ships could fire missiles hours before they could ever get close enough to actually see them. Still, he liked looking out. Displays and readings just didn't tell the whole story. Maybe he was just becoming a romantic.\n\nThe shutters moved to the side to reveal a big window of reinforced glass. Goto and the Captain both were stunned by the beauty of the universe, thousands of little stars, not to mention the gorgeous nebulae. Then they realized.\n\n\"Why the hell are we seeing light when we're not reading anything else?\"\n\n\"I... I don't know, Captain.\"\n\nHe made his decision quickly. \"Do we have enough fuel to come to a halt and get going again?\" The great thing about space travel was that you didn't need fuel to maintain your speed, the bad thing was that you did need fuel to stop.\n\n\"We do, Sir. But we could go into orbit of T-\"\n\n\"No. Stop, right here. And wake Traynor, Picard and Beckett. I want to know what this is.\"\n\n\"Yes Sir.\"\n\nHe turned around, intending to go back to his cabin until the crew was assembled and the ship was stopped - when he heard Goto suddenly breathe in. \"What the...\"\n\nHe turned around. What had previously made him wonder was no longer relevant - the stars had indeed gone dark in the area the display had indicated. A big, giant blob of black had appeared outside the window, with tentacle-like arms extending to the sides. The thing is, there was nothing blocking them out - there was merely absence. No light, utter and complete darkness, so dark that normal space looked like a christmas tree compared to it. But just when he had decided that this was the darkest black he had ever seen, it turned slightly, just a tiny little bit purple. And then a single, red light appeared in its middle, slowly growing brighter and brighter. \"What in Saint Seraphim of Sarov's name...\"\n\nKasumi's head jerked as she noticed movement on one of the displays. \"S- Sir, behind us... they are ships after all... they uncloaked! Holy shit that's a dreadnought!\"\n\nThe Captain could not take his eyes from the anomaly in front of him. \"Are they broadcasting IFF?\" The red light had now grown so bright that it became uncomfortable to look at it.\n\nHis engineer paused for a moment. \"It's Cerberus. They're saying to stand down and let them handle it.\"\n\nThen they opened fire." ]	1
	[WP] Write about a lawn mowing, from the perspective of a blade of grass.	[ "Rumors of the cutting ran swiftly though the lawn. The older blades, their tops ragged and brown-edged from the last, started the panic. They remembered the whirring blades, the sunlight cut into thin slices between their endless rotation. Some of them had been five, even six inches high, proud-stalked and ready to flower. \n\n'I had seven buds,' The old blade next to me kept repeating, more and more frequently as the fated day drew nearer, 'Seven buds here, on my north side. Oh, they would have been such wonderful flowers.' Now his broadest leaf ended abruptly, a horizontal slash edged with the grey-brown mottling of death. 'Trust me, young one, the cutting is coming. It's never too long. Watch- watch for the can.' \n\nWhen the can came, I was lucky, I suppose, to have been in a position to observe it. If it had been placed even a foot further away from me, my fellows would have blotted it out, and I would have had to rely on rumors from the other blades. By this time, I held almost no faith in their words. My own sense of self-preservation told me that the cutting could not be real, could not be coming. I was a new blade, a proud blade, and easily seven inches from sod to sky. \n\nThe can was red and white, and it bled drops of water as though the morning dew was conjured on its skin. The man placed the can in the grass so that the writing on its side, curled calligraphic script spelling BUDWEISER, faced me. I could not read the word, but instead saw its letters intertwined like a foul red bramble vine. \n\nMy perspective is always forced- either the wind has pushed me towards the earth and I see nothing but the kaleidoscope of green and brown that is the stems and roots of my neighbors, or I am twisted skyward and I watch the clouds and birds make a mockery of us, freewheeling in the air, living a life absent of apparent worry. That day was a rarity- almost windless. I was straight as the walls of the house, turned towards the man whose industry was to bring us all so much pain. \n\nThe machine rolled on rusty wheels to the edge of my family's plot. It made sounds before it was even started, thumps and creaks drawn from its wheels on the ground, the faint pinging of the horrible blade as it rattled in its killing chamber. Only when the man reached down and yanked on a yellow cord connected to its innards, awakening the machine to screaming, howling delight, did I truly believe the rumors of the cutting. \n\nWhat is there to say about being severed? The slow eclipse of the sky as the crescent of the killing chamber eases over the horizon... The awful wind that pulls you up, up, as tall as you'd ever hoped to be, your roots just barely holding on to the earth... I had a wild thought, just before the slice, that the rumors weren't true after all- this wasn't a reaping, it was how grass became part of the sky, uprooted and free to soar among the birds and the clouds... \n\nNow I am an old blade, severed at my broadest blade's broadest part. I wear a crown of grey and brown, and now I start the rumors. " ]	1
	[WP] In every other alternate universe you're an evil dictator, except this one. They want to change that.	[ "\"Ha! Take that!\"\n\nTwo big red letters appeared on the screen.\n\nK.\n\nO.\n\n\"This is, what, your fifth win in a row now? Can we play something else?\"\n\nRandy, obviously frustrated, threw his controller behind him. It landed on the bed we were leaning on, so no damage was done. We had just finished our last assignments for the semester, so we decided to chill at my apartment and play some games. Obviously, I had home advantage, having spent more hours on most of the games on my Playstation.\n\n\"It'll be the same no matter what we play. Just admit it, I'm simply better than you.\"\n\n\"You got any racing games? Gran Turismo or something like that?\"\n\nI crawled to the TV and picked up the box full of game CDs beside it.\n\n\"Let's see... I think there was a racing game here, but I can't seem to find it. I think I already told you I'm not a big fan of them.\"\n\n\"Or maybe it's because you know you can't beat me at racing.\"\n\n\"Well you can't beat me at everything else. Anyway, can you turn on the light?\"\n\nWe had spent the last three hours gaming non-stop so I didn't realize it was already dark outside. Now the only major light source in the room was the TV we were just playing on a few moments ago. Randy reluctantly accepted my request and, after stretching his legs for a minute, walked over to the light switch beside the door.\n\nJust when he approached the door, it swung open, hitting him and knocking him down. He obviously didn't expect it. Neither did I.\n\nA tall man in some sort of military uniform walked in. His shiny black hair was neatly combed, his skin unnaturally pale, and his eyes was unusually cold and lifeless, like some sort of cliché antagonist from a movie.\n\n\"Shit... can't you knock first?\" Randy was wiping something from his nose. Judging from the how hard he was hit, I wouldn't be surprised if it was blood.\n\nThe man momentarily looked at him momentarily. He didn't respond any further to Randy's protest before turning his gaze to me.\n\n\"Command, I've finally located His Excellency.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nOnly after looking at him again did I realize he was speaking into some sort of walkie talkie.\n\n\"There's another person with him though.\"\n\n\"Are you talking about me?\" From his tone, I could tell that Randy was still pissed about having the door slammed into his face.\n\nThe man, still staring at me, continued to talk into his communication device. \"Understood.\"\n\nHe looked back at Randy. A second later, he drew a pistol and pointed it at Randy's head. He pulled the trigger before I could say a single word.\n\nThe man looked at me.\n\nI never felt my heart beat so fast in my entire life.\n\n\"Why do you seem so scared? You're capable of doing much crueler things, Your Excellency.\"\n\n" ]	1
EDIT: Thanks for your answers! This is by far my most upvoted post. I'm happy you liked my prompt!	[WP] You die and find out that there is an afterlife and yes, there is a way to come back. As soon as you get face to face with God, you find out why nobody has ever attempted to return to Earth...	[ "Emmerson held fast to the one thing that made her feel human, her language. She noticed the way God spoke into her mind, as if the words traveled up her spine into her head. The only way she could describe it--God talked through her, like she was a straw.\n\nShe used her mouth, fumbling over her words. Her body was a tightly clenched ball of energy, surrounded by the ghost of her own vanity. She knew this version of her was thinner, younger, from a time when she was happy. Not like the way she died. Older, fatter, meaner. \n\nGod didn't seem to find it strange. He must have seen a thousand--million--different attempts at sanity. Emmerson wasn't any different. She was just another face moving through the universe. \n\nWhat do you want to know? The sweet tingle moved up, vibrating with each line. There was a pause, where Emmerson contracted and expanded like a lung. I see you want to return. \n\n\"There has to be a way. I was almost there. I was almost in...\" There was a weight on her chest.\n\nYou wished to complete your dream.\n\n\"Yes.\" Emmerson began to cry. \n\nI can offer you perfection, the tingle said. I can offer you what you wanted. \n\n\"I want to go back.\" \n\nNo one goes back. No one ever has. \n\n\"Why?\" Emmerson wanted to know. \n\nGod glowed, his human face flickering out of focus. When he became solid again, there was a weird panic on his face. He looked rather daunting just then. \n\n\"Why!?\" Emmerson demanded. \n\nBecause it means they lose this. God said. \n\n\"Heaven?\" Emmerson asked. \n\nNo, this feeling of completeness. They will lose it. They can't bring themselves to give up their other half. ", "\"Why has no one gone back?\" Said the desperate man, looking God in the eyes.\nThe man was killed from an alcoholic overdose at 35. Stress from his new management job sent him spiraling into drinking his life away when he arrived from his job. \nHis wife had tried to help him, but because he was intoxicated from the second he got home to the second he blacked out, he never understood anything. \nHe wanted to take it all back. He understood what he meant to his wife and all of his co-workers and how he had a job he made a living off of. He knew everything a regretful man would know, and he would do anything to take it back to fix his life. \nGod puts his hand on the mans shoulder, and whispers- \n \n^^^\"There's ^^^free ^^^blowjobs ^^^up ^^^here\". \n", "'I love you too honey, I'll be home soon' Jack said into his phone as he hurried out of the grocery store, bags full of steak, wine, and flowers. Jack had written Heather a card during his lunch breaks at work. An apology letter for his betrayal to her. Heather had just recently decided to give him another chance. Jack was determined to get their relationship back to where it was, if not better. \n\nJack begins crossing the street. He starts to put his phone away when he hears the chime of a text message go off. He looks down at his screen. \n\n'Hey, I know you said you would never speak to me again. But we really need to talk' - Shannon. \n\n'Shit! I can't be dealing with this right now' Jack thought to himself. He paused for a moment and toggled through to Shannon's profile on his phone. He clicked through the settings until he came to a button that said 'Block'. Jack pressed the button hard. \n\nHonk, Honk! Jack looks up just in time to see the headlights of an SUV barreling right towards him. A black man wearing a do-rag and smoking a cigarette was driving. He had his arms out wide, wearing the universal 'are you a dumbass?' face. Jack was hit directly by the SUV. \n\n\n\n'Where am I?' Jack thought to himself as he looked around himself and saw a land that seemed to be resting on top of billowing white clouds. \n\nJack felt his head, his chest, his legs. He remembered the crash and remembered an agonizing jolt of pain when he was hit by the vehicle. All that pain was gone now and replaced with the best feeling of health he had ever experienced in his life. He felt energy swelling up throughout his body, he felt strong, energetic. His brain felt rejuvenated, as if he had just waken up from a great nap on his day off and drank a cup of coffee. He looked around and saw angels with giant, white wings soaring above him. The women were beautiful, blondes with huge breasts. He saw people flying through the air, even though they didn't have any wings.\n\nJack tried to imitate the flying people and pushed off of the ground up in the air. To his surprise, he didn't come back down but kept being propelled upwards. He noticed that he could control where his body flew with his will. He willed himself to soar through the air, dashing around glowing cloud mountains, and swooping down into cloud valleys full of blossoming fruit trees. The fruit sang as he glided past them. As he zigged and zagged through the orchard of trees, he reached his hand in one of the trees and pulled out a giant, ripe pear. \n\n'Hi there Jack' the pear said with a deep, masculine woman's voice.\n\n'Oh, hey' Jack said confused.\n\n'I'm petunia. Welcome to Heaven' Petunia said.\n\n'Oh...ok' Jack said in a wavering voice.\n\n'It's ok Jack, you can still eat me' Petunia said.\n\n'What? I wasn't going to do that. Wait, are you sure?' Jack said hesitantly.\n\n'Absolutely, I love to be eaten by newcomers. Don't worry, I'll just grow back from my seed' Petunia said with deep, heaving breaths. \n\n'All right then' Jack said as he began biting off large chunks of flesh from the pear. \n\n'Oh God yes, God, yes!' Petunia shouted as Jack soared through the air and ate the pear. \n\n'Did someone say God?' A giant, muscular, white bearded man with a full set of white, billowing hair said as he apparated out of thin air. \n\n'Oh God!' Jack screamed when he saw God. \n\n'Mmmyeah?' God asked in a humming, sing-song voice. 'Is there anything you wish to ask me, Jack?'.\n\nJack thought for a moment. There were so many things he had wanted to ask God, but right now all he could think about was how he got here.\n\n'God, how did I get here?' Jack asked.\n\n'Well, you were hit by an SUV, don't you remember?' God said smugly.\n\n'No, I mean, how did I get here? After I died' Jack said. \n\n To be continued\n\n\n\n", "\"You could go back, yes. But there isn't much point at this stage.\"\n\nThe voice smothered the lone figure standing at the base of the column with every word. Heaven being exactly as you expect it to be, a limitless sky with a landscape of clouds and golden spires. The column itself appears to be marble, and try as they might the one standing at the base cannot see the top. It extends beyond their sight into a dazzling brightness.\n\nThe vision of God itself.\n\nThe figure hesitated, then forced themselves to speak.\n\n\"But you don't understand, I have to go back! I was taken before my time. My family...my children...my husband! I can't leave them alone.\"\n\nShe nervously played with her hands as she spoke, as if she were some toddler talking back to her strict mother about some objection, scared that at any point she could blow and punish her. However the voice was ever calm and gentle.\n\n\"You don't understand. Ask yourself this Kelly. Since this choice was always available, why hasn't anyone else decided to go back?\"\n\nKelly pondered on this. Maybe it's simply because they didn't know they could? Oh, wait. She didn't know herself until God told her, presumably it gives the same welcoming speech to every new soul here. \n\nMaybe then it's fear? Some may see this as a test to judge their desire to stay in Heaven? Some might be so indoctrinated to their respective faith they simply can't entertain the idea of such a choice to begin with?\n\nKelly thought quite hard, but inevitably the bottom line was all the same. Plenty of people would go back to their old lives and loved ones in a heartbeat, yet they chose not to. So...why?\n\nKelly looks back, careful not to look directly into the blinding light and asks the question.\n\n\"OK. Tell me then. Why do people decide not to go back?\"\n\nThe light begins to change. It dims then it brightens. It goes from shades of red, to purple, to blue and back to clear white light again. Why this happens Kelly can't tell, but after a time the voice begins again.\n\n\"The very simple answer is that the world you come from is...broken.\"\n\nKelly looked confused.\n\n\"Broken? Wait, this isn't going to lead into some Ying Yang devil influence thing is it?\"\n\n\"No, no nothing like that. Being a creator means making different versions. You test, refine, improve.\n\nThe reason no-one goes back to your specific world is because by today's standards it is obsolete. There are better versions, with better features.\"\n\nThis is not making sense. Why is God talking like this? There can't be other versions of Earth can there? Unless...\n\n\"Oh...wait. Is this the multiverse thing instead? Different dimensions, each with it's own Earth but with minor changes?\"\n\nAnother quick light display from the light. Kelly considers the idea that it could be what it does when thinking.\n\n\"Better. On the right lines at least. However previous versions do not exist. You know the reason your world has yet to discover life outside your own planet is because there is none. When development on your version stopped it was shelved and left.\"\n\nKelly's eyes widened.\n\n\"Wha? So...alien life exists in the um...latest version?\"\n\n\"Oh sure. Not only that, the humans are somewhat more advanced as well. They are better able to handle this little feature, nevermind the others.\"\n\n\"...other features?\"\n\n\"You know. Magic, advanced technology, you know in the latest version they really did have hoverboards in 2015. I could go on.\"\n\nKelly's eyes glazed over, she began to understand. A world where everything the old world inspired to become already exists? She could see how some wouldn't hesitate to see it for themselves. But there was still something else.\n\n\"I think I see. It certainly sounds like a world worth going to but even the best version you have won't have my family. I love them. They can't be replaced.\"\n\nAnother light show. It's beginning to be more of a distraction than a show now, Kelly ponders.\n\n\"It is a romantic notion young one, but yes...they can.\"\n\nWhat. How? Kelly doesn't believe it. And since it, being God, likely knows this too it doesn't hang around for dramatic effect.\n\n\"Like the planet itself, the life that inhabits it also has various versions of the same thing. So not only do those you know and love exist in the latest version...chances are they too are superior to the versions you know.\"\n\nKelly reacts to this as you expect, and since God insulted her she wastes no time with a retort that could trip it up.\n\n\"Well if that is the case, then there must be a better version of me on that world too. So what happens to them if I decide to go hmm? Does that Kelly just cease to exist?\"\n\n\"Oh, no. We just merge you. Perhaps it's already happened to you before, you just never knew it. Situations like Deja Vu, past lives or the overpowering feeling of being someplace before despite it being the first time you see it...they are all unavoidable quirks of being merged. We do it all the time.\"\n\nKelly's eyes begin to cross, this is getting a bit confusing.\n\n\"So...is that Heaven then. You take the soul of everyone, and simply add them back into the current version which by comparison could be considered Heaven?\"\n\nAnother light show. Kelly wants it to stop now.\n\n\"Why...yes. That is accurate. And before you enquire, new versions are released quite fast. Very fast in fact. No matter who passes on what version, there is always a newer version waiting for them.\"\n\nKelly nods slowly. Does she really get it? She isn't sure. It's likely a lot of people would be left confused after these realisations.\n\nSo the question now is, does she do it?", "\"Is there any way to go back? I need to return now or everything will end. Can't you see?\"\n\nAfter his explanation God's features softened and he pitied this man deeply as he had pitied all those he had explained this to before. A second chance of life in exchange for your soul. After you died the next time, you would have to spend eternity in hell. \n\nThe man's harried features creased in thought as he weighed up the offer and wrestled with its implications. \"Has anyone ever taken this offer?\"\n\n\"Not through choice. But there was one who had to return as a favour to me.\" And the man had understood why easily. But he must go back. He needed to tell them or they'd all die.\n\n\"Is there any way past it? Could I live a life so good that it would overcome this agreement on my soul?\" God pondered this question not for its originality, he had been asked this many times before, but to ensure his answer had the weight it deserved. Even God felt guilt and would abhor sending this man back with false hope.\n\n\"It would take a deed of great magnanimity to achieve. A handful of men, now celebrated as saints, have done deeds as great as required and at great personal pain and hardship, but not to go back. They did these things in life as they chose for the good of humanity. Most Saints ordained would not have done enough to fulfill this bargain and once more, if you act in such a way for personal gain, with this deal in mind, even the greatest act would be in selfish pursuits and void its merit and this agreement. It is almost impossible to do.\"\n\nGod's words echoed through the man's mind as eternal damnation loomed as a storm cloud ahead. But this would be no storm it would be a slow drip of pain and misery that never ended. But they needed to know. They all needed to know.\n\n\"I want to go back.\" \n\nGod flinched. Does this man understand? He thought. But he saw in his eyes the steadfast belief in what he was doing that he had seen a handful of times before. And he knew why he was going. Chief scientist at the Hadron Collider killed by a burst of energy that if not stopped, and it could still be stopped, would engulf the world and destroy everything in it and the galaxy around it.\n\n\"Okay you will go back to the moment before your death with enough time to stop it, but no more. Do you still wish to proceed? If you fail you will die again and as I see, so will all those around you.\"\n\nThe thought of hell emerged again but the man had already decided. \"Yes, I will go,\" he answered, \"for as you see, I have to.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" God replied. And with uncertainty in his heart, as this man's action were not selfish, he sent him back. With a feeling, or was it a hope, that they may meet again." ]	5
	[WP] You order a secondhand phone off of Ebay to find on it's arrival that it has not been cleared, it's contacts include high profile government officials and holds top secret software, within 5 minutes of switching it on you receive a text, "What do you want us to do with him now Agent Colla?"	[ "I stared at the message.\nFuck. What do I do?\n\nI typed out my response and pressed SEND.\n\n---------------\nHe read the text, dumbfounded.\n\nIt had to be a joke.\n\n\"Execute Order 66.\"\n\nHe groaned.\n\n\"Looks like r/PrequelMemes is leaking again, dammit!\"\nAgent Silas looked down at DJ Khaled, sighed, and pulled the trigger.\n\n\n" ]	1
Write the story from stones perspective from origin to end.	[WP] It is year 2100. Humans encountered a strange stone on earth with signs of life. The stone tells its story. It is a fragment of meteor that wiped dinosaurs.	[ "As you might know, or not know, a simple piece cannot remember the whole of its story, the same way you cannot remember the complete story of your own species. I can't remember the things before the formation of the whole I was part of, but I can tell you the story of how I, the tiny piece that I am now, got here.\n\nFor many of what you call years, all I've known was the black void of space. In the dark calm, one cannot tell if one is moving, or static, or if anything is moving around him... except when confronted with another object, drifting in space as one is. \n\nI've seen other meteors, distant stars and planets, appearing and disappearing slowly from my sight; I've went through clouds of rock and debris, and I've had silent, static years in the darkness, abandoned to my own thoughts.\n\nIt's not easy being aware, nor so old, now that I've met you, other sentient things; but in my drifting through space I came to realize and accept my own solitude, and the shifting nature of the universe. I knew very well no planet, meteor or debris would answer if I call, and we would drift apart with time, anyway.\n\nAnd then, one day, it appeared right in front of me.\nIt was a little, barely visible shinning in the darkness. As time went by, the blue, shiny orb took form, and I was able to see the little frail planet and its moon, right in front of me.\n\nIt was the first time I had something right before me, and it was the strangest, most beautiful thing I remember. It was like a perfectly round turquoise on a black velvet, both things I knew from my staying in a museum, many, many years later.\n\nIn the beginning, I was just curious about it. It was the first time I was able to take a good look at a planet, let alone any other object I've found before. In time, and not without surprise, I realized there was something special about this one.\nI cannot describe it. It was like a pulse, like the radiation from the stars, but different, and that I've never felt coming from anywhere before. I came to the sudden realization: I've found someone like me. Someone alive.\n\nI never tried to talk; It would have been useless, as It would be useless for two of you to try to conduct sound through the space devoid of air. I just stared in amazement, asking myself if it could see me too.\n\nCuriosity gave way to admiration.\n\nHave it been like me, alone, all this time, with nothing but a silent moon as company? Oh, how heavier is loneliness when one finds another one! Sometimes I wonder if I would have been better floating forever aimless into oblivion... but no, I can't imagine it, after how things unfolded.\n\nI endlessly saw its rotation, its gleam, the almost invisible green spots on its surface, little imperfections that made it more perfect still. Its slow dance around against the void hypnotized me, and its color was a much precious thing in a endless blackness.\n\nWith time, admiration gave way to love.\n\nBut slowly and with great concern, I noticed it grew larger and larger before me with time. It wouldn't be the first time I darted so close to something and then leave it behind, but I was terrified of never see it again... I should have been more terrified of what was really about to happen.\n\nAs the months passed, the hours and days, I thought of ways to communicate, to let be known that I could see and feel, and that I would not know what to do alone again. I was too distracted with this to notice that I would not pass by.\n \nThings are blurry in my memory. Maybe it's better that way. I remember the overheated atmosphere, air rushing past me, a sudden stop, a catastrophic thunder like an agonic scream... and then darkness again.\n\nWhen I came to my senses, for the first time I saw its sky, but it was black. Heavy clouds of dust twisted and crawled, like the belly of monstrous snakes, and ash came falling like rain.\n\nI was nothing but pain. I was broken in a way not one of you could imagine: a consciousness that survived the destruction of its body, and could feel every piece of it hurting and dying.\n\nBut when the pain stopped enough, with abject horror I realized what had happened... what, at the time, thought that I've done.\n\nI could hear its scream of pain all around me, coming from a million throats. Heavy bodies passed me by, stampeding in fear, looking uselessly a place to hide.\n \nOh, what I've done. Oh, what I've done!\n\nThe chilling screams of the dying planet lasted days, months. Then the moaning grew fainter and fainter until, one day, they stopped. It was over.\n\nAnd there I lay, alone. Again and forever.\n\nWhere to point my sadness, impotence and anger? I didn't knew about god, fate or probability. I could not wonder if there was a reason for this, what you could call a twisted joke. I could only sit there, shattered in countless pieces, and submerged in my own hopeless thoughts.\n\nAs one day fused into another, and then months, and then years, the dust covered me until I was buried in what remained of my body. I wished I could stay like this forever, that my conscience could end, though to this day I don't know if I'm able to die.\n\nLittle did I knew that, on the surface, the black clouds began to retreat, and the sun shun little and little more, until it finally rose triumphant in the sky.\nIn the darkness of my tomb, time was meaningless, but I grew so used to the silence, even to that of my own, that I almost hated the sound and light when one of you finally unearthed me, many, many years ago. \n\nI looked puzzled at this strange thing that looked me back, in a gesture that later I would recognize as a smile. He, or she, I can't remember correctly, put me in a plastic bag, then inside a crate, and tossed me into a truck. And that's how I got in the museum.\n\nThe rest of the tale, well... It would take too long to explain how I realized you all were also alive. It would take even more to say how I observed you, learned your ways, your language, your history... It would take many of your lives to tell you how I saw you developing, growing, until you reached the point where you are right now, that you can understand me.\n\nOh, what a wonderful, frightening and long journey it has been. Sometimes I wonder, after hearing it from you, if everything was part of a plan; did I encounter this other like me randomly? Was our disastrous meet a way for you to exist? Or was it all just coincidence?\n\nWhatever the answer It might be, I'll always treasure this moments, and all the moments besides you. And is my only advice, that you do the same for those around you." ]	1
	[WP] Lycanthropes exist, they just keep themselves secret because they have 'uncool' transformations. No wolves, bears or Jaguars - just animals like pigeons, poodles and raccoons.	[ "Everybody loves a good werewolf story right? They'd probably be less interested if they knew the truth.\n\nWerewolves are real. Technically. I don't know why but occasionally lycanthropes are born. They called us wolf-men. Humanities two greatest fears combined into one creature. Wolves are terrifying. Alone, you have a massive, strong creature with razor sharp teeth. Together, you have a fierce pack that can take down even the largest prey. Add human intelligence and cruelty and nothing could stand against the pack. \n\nThen humanity built fences. We built cities and walls. We invented the longbow, the musket, the rifle, machine-guns, and helicopters. In some places we drove the wolf to extinction. I read stories about Russians even hunting them from helicopters. Wolves are still around, but no one fears them.\n\nI have a theory. As far as I know I'm the only lycanthrope in my generation. You can't google this but I've started calling myself a phobothrope. Fear-man might not be as terrifying as wolf-man but my mom didn't fear wolves. You see, my grandfather loved his dogs but they hated everyone else. Whenever I asked my mother if we could get a dog, she would always say no and rub the strange scars on her forearm.\n\nThe transformations started when I went through puberty. Under the light of the full moon I would transform into my mother's greatest fear. I don't know if there are others like me. I don't exactly advertise. It's too embarrassing.\n\nI'm a werepoodle.\n", "The officer leaned over Bill, planting his palms on the cold steel table. \"One more time. I want you to tell me _one more time._ \"\n\nBill buried his face in his hands. \"I swear. I swear to God, I didn't do it.\"\n\n\"They're dead. And there you were, covered in blood. You tell me how you didn't do it.\"\n\n\"I can't tell you. You won't believe me. I swear...\" Bill glanced out the tiny barred window, watching the day's light fade. Tears welled in his eyes and rolled out onto his cheeks.\n\n\"That's not an alibi, son. Every guy out there who's killed a man says the same thing.\"\n\nHis ears were getting itchy. That was always the first sign. Would the officer shoot him when he started changing? Police were twitchy these days. If they would shoot a guy for selling weed or something, they'd want to kill a man who looked like a monster from some Stephen King book. He cringed in his chair and covered his ears.\n\n\"What's going on?\" The officer thumped his hand on the table, but there wasn't any force behind it -- now, he was just confused. He ducked and peeked at Bill's tear-streaked face.\n\nHuge brown eyes looked back, wet and frightened. Fur rustled under the man's white-knuckled fingers, sprouting like grass from his cheeks, as cold yellow moonlight washed in through the window. His teeth crackled as they sharpened and lengthened, his canines stretching into long wicked fangs. Unable to look away, the officer watched with his jaw hanging open, his hand creeping toward his gun.\n\nBill's hands shook as he slowly lowered them to his lap. \"See, Officer? I can't...I can't kill a man right now.\"\n\n\"I'll be damned if you can't.\" All the force had gone out of the policeman's voice. \"What the hell are you?\"\n\n\"I'm a were--\" He felt his voice cut off as his throat seized up. He wasn't human enough now to talk, his ears stretching and jaw rearranging and shoulders twisting into a new shape. He rolled to the side, falling off the chair as his legs reformed and a tail sprouted under his pants. As he caught himself on his forelimbs, he panted and growled, his claws scrabbling on the concrete floor.\n\nHe looked up, teeth bared, a snarl bursting from his throat. The officer looked down, his hand falling away from his gun. Slowly, mouth still open in surprise, the cop began to laugh.\n\n\"A were...wiener dog?\"", "It was the year 1917, in the middle of No Man's land, 5 men were stuck in a massive hunk of steel. With the engine on their tank busted, the men were right in the middle of what was about to become scorched earth. \n\nCaptain O'Brien cried out \"Jenkins! For fuck's sake what the fuck are we going to do?!\". \n \nJenkins, the mechanic and machine gunner yelled back. \"Don't ask me! Ask this blasted machine!\" \n \nAs they bickered in the tank about their situation, they began to hear bullets bouncing off the metal. \n \n\"Oh bloody hell it's the Krauts!\" \n \nThe tank loader, eerily silent through this whole fiasco, spoke up. \n \n\"Gentlemen, if you'd like to survive, write down a message asking for artillery support\" \n \nThe captain sneered \"Brilliant idea William, except for one thing, WE DON'T HAVE ANY BLASTED PIGEONS LEFT.\" \n \nThe loader looked into Captain O'Brien's eyes and said \"We do, now write\". \n \nJenkins scribbled down a note and slammed it on one of the metal ledges. The loader stood up, and to the disbelief of his crewmates, began to morph. His lips elongated into a beak, his arms morphed into wings, his legs grew thinner and thinner. After the horrifying process was done, a grey pigeon stood in the midst of the astonished crew. The pigeon spoke up, \"Well put the bloody message on me and let's bloody go!\". \n \nCpt. O'Brien snapped out of it and strapped the message to the loader's legs, and deftly tossed the pigeon out of the pigeonhole. \n \nAfter 30 excruciating minutes, the artillery strike came. None of the men spoke of this afterwards, the loader was said to have charged out of the tank and was declared MIA. None of the men in that tank ever saw him again, although sometimes, a pigeon would fly over them, and eject a well aimed strike of bird shit right in front of their feet. ", "An odd air of tranquility had fallen over the room. The warm evening air always did have a pacifying quality to it. They had slid the porch door open on its railings, but all that did was cool the room down just enough so that the previously suffocating air become like a huge transparent blanket. Under its soporific influences, his wife had fallen into a drowsy haze, her mind blanket out as she slowly, and then suddenly, lost the nightly battle against sleep. When her soft snoring was the only thing that broke the nights eerie silence, Jack rose from the couch and kiss her on the forehead and brushed her smooth brown hair away from her eye. They usually burned in an amazing bright blue. He rose and left, closing the door behind him.\n\nHe looked up at the sky.\n\nThere it was.\n\nThe full moon.\n\nIt was an omen of humiliation for him. His.oace quickened and he led himself away from his unused and down winding streets. The streetlights light the way for him, leading him away from the house like some Prince on his way through an enchanted forest, going to meet his destiny. Soon, he reached the public park. It stood appropriately desertered, as a park should be at ten minutes to midnight. The only light a soft glow from one of the intermittent lampposts that lined the path, a stretch of tarmac that coiled and wrapped itself around the glass's edge.\n\nEvery full moon he underwent a transformation. He lost his old self to a grotesque form of fur and claw and teeth. He left his humanity behind and become a creature of the wild. A creature that would rub and feel the glorious night time scratch it's ears and the exquisite sensation of the cool dirt beneath it's inhuman paws.\n\n\nMidnight struck, bringing with it that ominous silence. The land was dead and immobile. Nothing stirred. \n\nHis body arched suddenly, forced his back straight and he sharply exhaled. It wasn't painless, his transformation. His legs and arms deformed themselves, mutating into horrible, fur lined sticks that spread outwards into paws. His head shrunk. The clothes he had been wearing fell to a crumpled heap on the loose dirt on the floor, kicking up a miniscule cloud of dust.\n\nFrom the dust and the fabric it emerged. \n\nA chihuahua. No taller than two feet. The reason a man of 20 was hiding in a bush on a Friday night in an abandoned Park, like a freak in a circus trying desperately to hide himself from the view of jeering onlooker. The dog hoovered for a moment, breathing slowly, taking in the surroundings.\n\nSuddenly, Jack became aware of and itch behind his ear. Dipping his head, he stratched it his his front left paw. Then, yapping happily, he scurried off into the centre of the park, chasing a mouse that had run into front of his nose.\n\nBeing a dog was a simple life. Thoguh he wasn't aware of it, Jack was having the time of his life. Without the troubling human consciousness he was usually burdened with, the same one that always turned over thoguhts and was always thinking, he was able to enjoy the small things. The smell of pollen, and the thrilling of chasing a mouse across the grass. \n\nHe chased it across once, then it disappeared into a bush - he barked in frustration, unable to follow. \n\nSomething made his blood freeze in place. Voices.\n\nA group of young people, no older than sixteen, had turned the corner. They were shadows behind the streetlamp, and were making strange Noises he could not hope to understand. One of them pointed at him, and before his little legs could react, he was hovering in the air. He growled threateningly at his captor, but they laughed, flicking his nose, and putting him on the nearest bin.\n\nRisking a tentative peek over the edge of the metal lid, his eyes were met with a drop of frightening magnitude. Overcome with vertigo, he cowered while the dark figures laughed.\n\nAnother noise, angelic by comparison to their jeers, caused the figures to scatter. Before he could react, a gentle figure with brown hair and bolting blue eyes was looking at him with the expression of a child finding a long lost toy. \"Poor thing. How could they torture such an innocent creature?\" She said in a voice like a mother talking to her child. The dog, thoguht it didn't understand the words, understood her sentiment and yapped happily, licking the strangers kindly face. She giggled in delight, before her expression turned to a downtrodden and burdened one. She was talking about her husband, who kept disappearing at night. 'Is he being unfaithful?' she wondered aloud. She clearly had followed in the hopes of finding out.\n\nWhile she might have lost her husband, she had found a lovable lost dog. It didn't have a collar, so it looks to be a stray to her eyes. \n\nShe carried it at her breast, off to it's new home. \n\nThe chihuahua barked happily.", "Thomas was typing. He was the only one still working, for his coworkers had left hours before. The absence of light closed around his small, bright computer screen, making him seem small and insignificant. From time to time he would take a sip from the cup at his side. He was oft to check its contents, as though he were hoping it was something else.\n\nThe only way to get anywhere in life is through hard work, Thomas told himself. It’s what his father had said on deathbed. It had always been work, work, work with him. But Thomas’ fingers ached with a passion, so he lifted them and cracked his knuckles. Sweat -- from stress, not exertion -- beaded his face and neck, pooled at his armpits after a day of work. But work is no good when there are millions of the same. He felt he was like to go insane if he typed another word.\n\nHis boss, Dana, did not share his misgivings. “Keep at it,” Dana would say. “And if you land in the psych ward, I ain’t visiting.”\n\nThomas never dared respond. He sat quietly and typed. The dull clack of keyboard keys drove through his ears like a drill. His only compensation for the monotony: a large window. On summer days, the sun beat through and Thomas would burn despite hardly going outside. And in winter, cold seeped in the glass, chilled him to the bone. Beyond, on the opposite street, stood a building akin to Thomas’ own. But it was drab and gray, providing little in way of view. San Francisco was a city of greed. It took everything and left nothing but a will to die.\n\nIn that moment, all Thomas could feel was the urgent need to relieve. He picked himself from his chair -- rolling, with sticky leather -- and walked down a hall. Without the usual bustle of work, the office was oddly cryptic. Each gap felt like the entrance to a cave, holding artefacts of unknown powers. Every step was made through thick mist, in which Thomas could hardly see. Then he stepped into a brightly lit corridor and the illusion melted.\n\nAt first, it was blinding. Light reflected from white walls and tiles, scrubbed clean yesterday night by janitor Joe. A few dying plants stood at opposite ends but, for the most part, the hall was unadorned. It seemed too clean and better suited for hospitals or clinics. Sometimes Thomas pretended it was a hall from science fiction, and that guards or aliens waited around the bend.\n\nAs he descended a flight of stairs, so too did the cleanliness degrade. Streaks of gray marred faded walls. Lights flickered overhead or failed to shine entirely. Tile chipped and broke away, giving way to bleak concrete slabs beneath. Sometimes, Thomas imagined Dana to hold captive unruly workers in the building’s basement. She was a small woman, of weak stature but large of will. At first glance, Thomas made the mistake of thinking she were old and frail. Still, many doors were locked, and that only furthered his theory.\n\nAhead of him, the bathroom grew larger. “Shithole,” the staff called, and Thomas thought it aptly named. It stank and was more often than not ignored by cleaners. Most toilets there were like to overflow -- and did -- so the floor had become drenched in sewage. The other half that did not vomit of their own accord failed to flush. So feces remained stagnant for days. That smell reached Thomas’ nostrils and would’ve told him, if he was wanting of sight, that he had come close.\n\nThen Thomas shoved at the door, but it would not budge. “Damn it,” he said. He cursed under his breath and shoved again. The sound of his flesh striking wood echoed queerly down the hall. Then again did Thomas hit the door. It gave way on his fifth attempt and sent splinters to the floor. One found home in his finger, but he ignored it and it slipped from his mind.\n\n“What the hell?” Said Thomas. His jaw dropped and, for a moment, it seemed he had finally gone insane.\n\nA flock of chickens stared back at him.\n\nThomas had no sooner fell from shock than Dana had gripped his arm. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she said. “No one’s supposed to be here.” The chickens bobbed their heads. A few feathers floated through the air but thomas paid them no mind.\n\n“What the hell?” He said again.\n\n“Yes, you’ve said that,” said Dana.\n\nThomas backed away, confused. “Yeah, but, what? There’s chickens in the bathroom. Why are there chickens in the bathroom? And why are you here?” In a stupor, he said, “You hold prisoners here, don’t you.”\n\n“State the obvious, why don’t you? Yes, that’s a flock of chickens in the bathroom. And I do hold people from time to time, but rarely here.”\n\nThomas hesitated. “But chickens --”\n\n“-- we’d thought this place would be empty. Like, who in their right mind shits down here? You, I guess, but you’re mental. I should’ve accounted for that.”\n\n“What…”\n\n“You say ‘what’ one more time and I’ll get that lot to peck your eyes out. We’re werefowl, in case you haven’t noticed.”\n\nThe remark amused Thomas to no end.\n\nA sudden force struck Thomas like a speeding car. As he fell against the wall he felt scaled talons grip his limbs. Sharp beaks pecked at his flesh, broke skin. Well, there are worse ways to die. When he opened his mouth to scream, Dana poured water down his throat. He gagged and choked, and light faded.\n\n\n**\n\n/r/Lone_Wolf_Studios for weekly stories and updates!", "I left the board on the table a defeated man. \n\n\"And don't forget a cherry pop,\" said Melanie, with a wink. That was her gloating, I figured. \n\nShe didn't win often, so I guessed I should just let it go. though a part of me just wanted to return with water to incite her. Not that a fight now would be anything spectacular. \n\n\"Anyone else have special orders?\" I asked the other two. \n\nDjembe shook his head. He was always happy for whatever snacks got brought out after the fateful first game. \n\nVenus just said no, then returned to cleaning up the pieces. \n\nWhen I returned from the kitchen, I had a tray laden with snacks and small sandwiches and a single can of cherry cola that I set down in front of Melanie. \n\n\"M'lday,\" I said, pretending to tip a hat. \n\n\"Gross,\" She said, cracking open the can. \n\nI smiled. I was about to indulge her when I noticed Djembe was missing. Melanie hadn't. \n\nShe put down the can and reached for a sandwich. She screamed and dropped it, and a furry, black rat scampered away, chittering loudly. \n\n\"Fucking Djembe,\" Melanie screamed. In a second she changed and was soon flapping wings, her pigeon coos echoing in the room. \n\nShe circled round and round, looking for Djembe, who no doubt was already playing his best game of hide and seek. \n\nI sat down next to Venus and set my hand on her leg. \"They seem awfully distracted right now,\" I said. \n\nVenus gave me a skewed smile and leaned in closer to my ear. I could feel heat radiating off her. \"Fuck off,\" she whispered. \n\nI chuckled, then released my hand and continued to watch the entertainment. At some point, Melanie had spot movement, and was attacking an old delivery box, leaving vicious stab marks. \n\nShe swooped up and Djembe scuttled out. But it was a ruse, and Melanie dove down again, beak open, ready for the ultimate triumph. \n\nSomeone knocked. \n\nVenus froze and I glanced over towards the door. Djembe and Melanie changed back and hustled to their seats. \n\nI looked at the others, but no one was getting up. It looked like being the first loser meant more duties than I'd hoped tonight. \n\nI got up and opened the door. Outside, wearing a clean-pressed shirt and a goofy smile was Otto. On his arms, a pretty girl with black hair and almond eyes that she'd worked around with eyeliner to make sharp wings. \n\n\"Hey, Danton. This is Christine.\" He indicated the girl with his free hand and she smiled and gave a tiny wave. \n\nShe wasn't on Venus' level, but I approved. \n\n\"Hi, pleasure, come on in.\" I patted Otto on the back and he traded me a victorious look. He was on his game. That was good, but I wondered how much he was thinking whether or not we were all on our game, too.\n\nAfter introducing everyone to Christine, they drew up two more chairs and Djembe began setting up the next game. \n\n\"It's nice to meet you all, Otto's told me so much about all of you,\" Christine said. She was a little bubbly in a way that would probably work for Otto.\n\n\"Oh really,\" said Melanie, drawing out the response and landing a gaze at Otto. It was the first time his demeanor cracked a little.\n\nI gave a mental shrug. He should have known this was going to happen. Of course we were going to milk every opportunity to dance around the one thing Otto was sure would make any girl run away. \n\nBut it was going over Christine's head. She had to have noticed, but there was no way she ever could have deduced what it meant. \n\n\"Yeah, so I was super excited when he asked if I wanted to come to board game night. He always treats it like church, so I'm glad I get to see what he fusses about so much.\"\n\nAt the mention of games, Djembe looked up. \n\n\"Do you play games much?\" he asked. \n\n\"Oh, not really. I mean, like Monopoly and stuff like that.\" \n\nThe mention of monopoly prompted a group exchange. Christine had no idea on so many levels. But that one, luckily, we kept subtle. \n\n\"Oh, then you're going to love the games we play,\" Djembe said. There was never as bad a judge of emotion as Djembe. He'd tell a starving man he'd love intermittent fasting. \n\n\"Oh really? What games do you play?\" Christine asked. \n\nMelanie smiled. Christine had asked the question that was going to let the floodgate loose. \n\n\"You know, we were actually just playing a small game of hide and seek,\" she said. \n\nOtto snapped his head away from Christine. Gaped at Melanie, eyes pleading with her to stop with her shenanigans before she'd even really began. \n\n\"Wait really? You don't think it's too much of a kid's game?\" Christine asked. \n\n\"Oh they're children alright,\" said Venus. \"They never grew up.\" \n\n\"Oh, but our hide and seek is really fun. Because you can't just do it regular. For us, you have to act like an animal.\" \n\nChristine's eyes went wide. Otto's went wider. If Christine's arms hadn't been around him, he would have been making cutting motions this entire time. I was enjoying this. \n\nBut I was also waiting for my ace in the hole. \n\nDjembe smiled at Christine's reaction. \"It's true. Melanie sometimes has to act like a pigeon, and flap her arms as she moves around.\" \n\nMelanie nodded gravely . \"And Djembe here sometimes acts like a rat, scurrying around on all fours.\" \n\nVenus was shaking her head, but she made no move to stop their fun. \n\n\"Wait, why those animals, why not something, I don't know. More interesting? Or at least cuter?\" \n\nOtto had a keeper. Both Melanie and Djembe were caught by the question. They could only take them as insults if they wanted to give themselves away. \n\n\"Well, you know, it's just because it's difficult to do, and it's silly,\" Melanie flustered. \n\nOtto had calmed down, and Melanie was on the back foot. Djembe had become engrossed in fidgeting with the game pieces. It was my time to shine.\n\n\"They're bull-shitting you, Christine,\" I said.\n\nShe turned to me and looked a little embarrassed, as if having been taken for a ride. \n\n\"Oh,\" she said.\n\nBefore she could say anything, I pointed at them, \"They're bullshitting you, because they really are a rat and a pigeon.\" \n\nI met Christine's surprised reaction with a dead level glance. How I wished I could have sacrificed the deadpan in order to see Otto stem on the edge of rage. The emotions that raced through his mind. The different colors of his face. \n\nAnd then Christine relaxed and laughed. The tension in the room eased. Otto looked at his girlfriend, incredulous. \n\n\"You guys are just as funny as he said.\" She had another bout of chuckles. \"I bet Otto would be a turtle, he's so slow, sometimes.\" \n\nOtto nearly had a heart attack, and almost fainted on the couch. I grinned sheepishly.\n\nMelanie and Djembe had taken new heart at this turn of events and even Venus was interested. \n\nOh yeah, we were going to have a lot of fun with this. \n\n___\n\nThanks for reading! You can check out more of my stuff at /r/chrisbryant.* \n\n " ]	6
	[WP] The war against the undead drudges on. But tonight is different, not only are they moving in packs but.... are they setting up ambushes?	[ "We thought we were winning the fight.\n\nLet's be honest, we've all fantasized about it: battling the living dead. How many games did we play? All the novels and movies outlining scenarios and strategies. Why, at this point they were the precursor to training manuals. So much of that fiction ended up being true. The \"aim for the head\" mentality, the shambling and rambling corpses. Everything panned out like authors and directors imagined. \n\nFor some of us, this was a twisted heaven. Sure, the fear was there, but survival felt so much better with a little bit of \"Nya nya, told you so!\" dashed on top.\n\nAnd just when we felt the tides were turning to our favor, we realized that the current had just recessed to the ocean and was amassing to crush us in one monster wave.\n\nIt started slowly: small scouting parties disappearing. That should never happen at this point. They were veterans, been on ranging after ranging, and yet they weren't coming back. We ran through every scenario we could. \n\n\"Rival survivor gangs?\" Doubtful.\n\n\"Sickness?\" Too gradual.\n\n\"The undead?\" Absurd. They were no more than moaning target practice.\n\nAnd yet, here we are. Standing at the remains of what once was a campsite. One of our campsites. They came at night, they must have. The signs of struggle never really branched out from the tents. In fact, the struggle never made it far from our scouts corpses. Still in their beds. The creatures must have taken out the watchmen first. It's doubtful any alarm was raised.\n\nHow did they manage this?\n\nHow did they get so smart?\n\nHow did they learn to use strategy?\n\nHow did they learn to even think?\n\nHow did-\n\n...How did they surround us? How didn't we notice?\n\nWe're no longer the apex.\n\nWe fell right into their trap.", "Again, they heard the cry for help. It was a girl's voice, high pitched and soaked with fear. \n\n'We're getting closer'. Ben picked his way through low hanging branches and ferns. Harold and Julia followed close behind. \n\n'This ain't a good idea', whispered Harold. 'If we can hear her, so can they. Half the undead within a mile's radius will be heading the same way we are'. \n\n'What are you suggesting?' said Julia, sharply. 'Leave her? She's a girl, for Christ's sake'. \n\nA bush rustled, nearby. 'Quiet' Ben held up his hand. They froze. A branch cracked as if trodden underfoot. Ben crouched and readied his knife. He felt the warmth of Julia's breath on his neck. His eyes darted to the trees and bushes around him. Nothing. Silence. \n\n'Help!' came the scream, again. \n\n'C'mon' said Ben. \n\nThe trees started to thin. The thick brush at their feet dissapeared, leaving roots and dirt. They came upon a clearing, a grass area surrounded by a cicular wall of trees. A girl hunched at its centre, facing away from them. Blood stained the tattered rags that clung to her back. \n\n'Help!' \n\nJulia darted for the girl. Ben followed, cautiously. The area felt exposed after their creep through the forest -- too exposed. \n\n'Let's be quick', he said. 'We'll grab her and go'. \n\n'Little girl' said Julia. 'It's okay. It's okay'. She laid her fingers on girls shoulders, who shuddered at the touch, and scuffled away on her hands and knees. \n\n'No' pleaded Julia. 'We're here to help you'. \n\nThe girl stoppped, and stumbled to her feet. She turned her head, slowly. A sick smile twisted her lips. Her eyes were white as clouds and her chest was cut open, revealing the white ribs and red flesh inside. She opened her lips wide and shrieked. \n\nThe forest around them bustled. Undead dropped from tree canopies like overripe fruit. Ben heard Harold's scream, and turned to see the man mauled by a sea of standing corpses. His pulse raced. On the opposite side of the clearing, there was an opening with no undead: a way out 'Quick, Julia--\n\nThe girl bit down on Julia's calf. Julia uttered a silent scream and looked at Ben with defeated eyes. 'Run' she told him. \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are a hitman, who enjoys a comfortable lifestyle, apart from one hitch, you have a unquenchable urge to kill whoever the internet hates most at the time.	[ "Always had a knack for the lavish lifestyle, a penny here, a penny there and save yourself the trouble. A penthouse for night, a gentle ride home, a good stake, served exactly as you want it, dipped in just a tiny bit of wine and medium to well done, sauce offered on the right side of the dish, spicy on the left side, with hot toast to enjoy it and served in a timely manner, there is but one word for this, exquisite. And it is exactly how should be!\n\n\nGetting down from the car, giving the keys to the valet, which is probably the best car he would ever drive in his lifetime and walking slowly towards the hotel I notice the crude people around me, these filthy, crude bastards with no clue of what is right, all drowning in their self infatuation and ignorance, if only they knew what I did, had my manners and speech. No pity is shown for their narrow minds and lack of awareness as I strode forwards before this couple holding hands and giggling in the most atrocious and annoying manner. Stunned, and almost bumping into me, the couple stopped a few steps bumping into me and threw some cruel insults at my person, but as gentleman I pay no heed to them, it would be a waste of breath to even attempt to speak to them, as none of my words would reach them, or their filthy, full of maggots, ears. I just walked past them, past the doorman who kindly opened the door and offered greeted me, so i replied in kind with a greeting of my own, past the receptionist who seems always befuddled with the troubles of these peasants lodged in this exquisite place caused today. \n\n\nArriving in front of the elevator, the button is pressed and the confirmation sound echoes through the halls as I see the lights lighting on the elevator and showing the floors it passed through, stopping for a few seconds on the 1st floor. \"Are you kidding me?\" is almost blurted out from me mouth for those pitiful people who could not walk down the stairs a measly floor and had to call the elevator. Brain effort was hard for them, but then again so was walking when you had nothing inside your skull. Those voices ruined the atmosphere on the hall, they speech was so loud it could practically have jumped into your face revealing their ugly sneers. \n\n\nAs the elevator stopped so did their idiotic chatter in an attempt to keep face. The elevator doors slid and revealed are the faces of those tree barbarians, a old man with white hair and a beard who needed the help of two younger females for walking, one on each side. How preposterous, as if it was not clear he could walk just fine by looking at him.\n\n\nHe was greeted out of courtesy and he greeted back, but as soon the leech on his left side said pardon, i just sneered at her and stood my ground as she bumped into me before giving me a weird look. Had she expected me to make way for her when her group was occupying the entire elevator? Regardless of her reply to me, which I completely ignored, entering the elevator was smooth and as easy as the time spent to get to the 7th floor. The expectations for tonight were grand and my patience was running thin to see who would get judged tonight, who would stir the ire of so many people and of course, ye who would get downvoted tonight.\n\nAfter exiting the elevator I opened the door to my suite go to the fridge as the lights slowly get turned on to my clap. After hacing opened the fridge door I choose a fine wine, a Chatteau de Margeaux 1975. Having pored a glass I opened the laptop and start surfing. A few names have popped up in my view, but none attracted my eye after a few searches. \n\n\nAfter a few sips of wine I finally found he whom I have been looking for. No one likes him, he's crude, stupid, a waste or air and I detest him with every fiber of my being. His songs as well... guess I'm gonna have fun tonight." ]	1
	[WP] Kidnapped as a child, you were raised by a secret government organization as a genetically- and cybernetically-enhanced super soldier... but before deployment your superiors were arrested and now you must adjust to civilian life.	[ "I can't really remember my life before the Institute. I was about seven years old when I was taken.\n\nDecades went by like clockwork. I was placed in a steel windowless room with a door locked by a thumbprint scanner. I was allowed eight hours of rest, then a small meal: water, pork and bread. Then, training began. I stretched and did two hundred push-ups, crunches, squats, and burpies. After that, I ran for five miles.\n\nOnce the physical part was out of the way, I was given another small meal, exactly the same as before. Then, they strapped me to a chair and put needles in my arms and electrodes on my chest and temples. They were making absolutely sure it was impossible to interrogate me. No form of truth serum, torture, or intimidation would affect me.\n\n After I was pumped full of juice, I was restrained to a different chair and educated on every matter imaginable. Biology, mathmatics, forms of combat, mechanics, even current events. All the knowledge of the human race was pumped into my brain, and if I answered a question incorrectly or protested in some way, I received an electric shock.\n\nWhen my lessons ended, I was allowed to void by bowels and returned to my quarters with an identical meal to the previous two awaiting me. After I ate, I rested and the hellish cycle restarted.\n\nThey told me I would be the perfect soldier; an unstoppable killing machine at the fingertips of the United States govornment.\n\nUnfortunately for them, that would never happen.\n\nThe people caught wind of their experiments on me. \"Project Ares\", they called it. They were all send to a federal prison for life without parol, or so I was told. They more likely just shot them and were done with it.\n\nI had been given a therapist to help me recover psychologically. After a few years, I was released from his care and was allowed to fend for myself as a civilian, just another face in the crowd. The idea was rather comforting.\n\nI had adopted a dog to be my companion. A German Shephard and Pitbull mix. I named him Talos, after the colossal bronze man from Greek mythology. He was a good friend. Sadly, a pair of thieves had entered my home and brought firearms to defend themselves. I easily killed them, of course, but Talos had been shot in the heart. I held my first and only friend as he died slowly. That was the first time I really remember crying. I closed his eyes and buried him in the back yard to rest, while I burned to remains of the thieves and threw the ashes into the river.\n\nI often retreated to pubs and taverns after that night, allowing the alcohol to seep into my system and drown out my emotions.\n\nI had purchased an M1911 handgun for protection. However, on the fifth month after Talos' passing, I sat on my bed and held the weapon. I wondered, would anyone even wonder if I was missing? Would the police search for me, only to find me here?\n\nI doubted it.\n\nI drew back the hammer and held the end of the barrel against my temple. My hand trembled as my finger twitched on the iron trigger. I began to weep quietly. I stiffened my grip on the gun and threw it aside.\n\nI breathed heavily, as if I had emerged from underwater.\n\nNot yet. I told myself. I'm stronger than that.\n\nI eventually met a woman named Julie Crimson at the tavern and we developed a relationship. I could tell she was weary of me at first because of my somewhat robotic nature, but she, quote, \"Saw the goodness in me pierce through all the dark.\" We grew old together happily.\n\nI write this now in my bed in Paladin's Cross Hospital. My body is old and brittle. I will not last much longer, but Julie is right beside me. She and I will pass into the next world, whatever it may be, looking into each other's eyes.\n\nDespite my enjoyable last few years, I now wish for nothing more but the end. I wait for the voice of the suited man to whisper one last time,\n\n\"You may rest now.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You awake to find yourself on a small deserted island. In the center looms a large tower with a digitial clock. You see it start counting down from 24 hours. Your only aid comes in the form of a parrot. "You get three questions", says the parrot. "Choose wisely."	[ ">Wow, that was rather unexpected...\n\n I said to myself after hearing the parrot out. Not only I happened to magically teleport to a deserted island in the matter of... who the fuck knows, actually. It may be days, weeks... seconds, minutes? But also there's a goddamn speaking parrot. What a time to be alive. My fingernails haven't grown much since I last remember, actually I should have cut them the other night but I chose to play some games instead. Nevermind, the point is they haven't grown at all so propably it wasn't a long time since I got here. Good thing I've sorted this out. Now, back to the parrot. She told me I have 3 questions. I never woulda thought a damn parrot will ever tell me what I should do but I guess I have no other options left. And what is going on with that clock? I propably should ask my little feathery friend.\n\n>Yo um, parrot? Can you answer my question? Why am I here?\n\n>Can't you remember? Two questions left.\n\nYeah, great. That's the quality answer I expected. So, I'm on an island in the middle of... Somewhere wet. Propably water. A lot of water. Ocean? Maybe. I actually can't remember much, I just went to bed and expected to wake up in the same bed. I should propably stop after the 6th beer, now I'm hallucinating. One thing I know for sure is that it's kind of these edgy mysteries, I've seen those before in other stories I read on the Internet. And if it's nothing but a mystery designed by someone, there has to be an explanation to everything. Why is there a giant clock on a big ass tower? Someone clearly wanted me to see the countdown. Something's gonna happen and I gotta figure out what.\n\n>Uh, parrot? Why is there a giant clock counting down?\n\n>I thought you'll ask about the giant clock on a tower. Well, this island once was...\n\n>Yeah yeah don't bother with the backstory. I'm asking for a reason why it's here.\n\n>Damn, I was just getting started. So, the clock's here to remind you that the time's limited and you gotta find a way to get to the top of the tower before it runs down to zero. Last question.\n\nThat's what I was hoping to hear. Someone knows me better than I thought. This whole thing is designed just for me. And if it's designed for me, there are propably some things on the island to guide me. One of them, if you haven't noticed yet, was that suspicious talking parrot. In my childchood I used to play with my friends, Carl and Desmond. One day we found that funny talking parrot plushie somewhere in the woods. When you pressed it's belly it said \"Hello, wanna have some fun?\" We kept pressing it but it was all that was there. We obviously wanted to have some fun, otherwise we wouldn't hang around the forest. That gives me an idea for the last question...\n\n>Hey parrot, wanna have some fun?\n\nThe ground started to tremble. The earth split in two, with something going out of the breach. I saw a toy chest standing on a pedestal. The engraving on the stone sculpture said \"Seek for your map.\" Then it hit me. Why would it say MY map? My deduction was correct, this is all about me. So, I started to work towards getting out of this island, I have stuff to do. I begun searching the toy chest finding some rubbish. Nothing interesting, just a few building blocks, a teddy bear, some wooden trains and...\n\n>Hold on, what's that?\n\nSpeaking to myself is a bad habit. As bad as finding a map written with blood in a chest full of my childhood toys. Why would the pedestal say \"seek for my map\" if the map was right inside of it? It clearly means it isn't the map I should be looking for. This map is just a clue towards finding the right one. The tower is propably a labirynth with tons of misdirective signs, thus the right map is crucial to safely make it to the top. Let's take a look at the map I just found. The paper is yellow, so the map is quite old. Why is it written in blood though? Blood never promises unicorns and candies, so I gotta watch out, I actually may die. The map is actually quite straight forward, there is a road to the tower, the place where I am currently and one more road, deep into the woods. There are few things highlighted on that road though. One of them is a drawing of a wooden hut. I should check it out in the first place. The other drawings is a fishing rod with a pond next to it, a bottle with some note in it, and a bunch of rope. There is a clue sinked in that pond, I'm quite sure I'm not here in order to go fishing with my parrot friend. The bottle may contain another map with even more clues. The rope can be useful if I ever wanted to get to the top of the tower safely. With no time to loose, I headed towards the wooden hut.\n\n>That's gonna be annoying...\n\nThanks for reading. My first WP, actually. I may continue if you'd ask me to." ]	1
	[WP] You are a being from a distant planet. Today, you meet the first aliens. They call themselves "Humans".	[ "The humans are simple. act and behave out of kindness and generosity, they communicate verbally and convey emotions to one another. The way of the ancestors millions of years ago. It is important to remember the ancestors had many flaws warfare and destruction over menial problems. it was only after our people had done away with violence that we found peace. I had met with leaders of their world to find not one world leader but many. there was something wrong however. the ones they refer to as Americans tried to grab me, study me. The \"men\" as they're called ran for me. threatened i merely separated the matter inside their funny little heads. i see now that the race known as \"humans\" are a dangerous, violent and undisciplined the species that must not be allowed to leave their world much less have the ability to destroy one another. i personally have rendered their instruments of destruction inert. some resisted of course but resistance was expected initially. The humans were dangerous. Now they are not. i will continue my efforts here with no resistance. ", "I attached the camera to my head, and made sure that the gas mask was on tightly around my mouth parts before stepping out of the familiar clear air of my ship into the strange, faintly eggshell-blue tinted air that these 'Humans' breathed. It took all of my diplomatic training to not quiver with disgust at these strange fleshy beings. The lead one, clothed in tightly fitting dark blue uniform of some sort, motioned towards me, making motions with its stubby arms that conveyed to me its amical nature. I returned with a strange movement that the xenobiologists had drilled into me as a sign of respect, a flick of the arm from the top of the head outwards. The aliens talked amongst themselves, grunts echoing dully in the dense atmosphere. I lifted up my tablet and typed out a question that synthetically played in their language. \"Shall we get to business?\"\n\nThe lead human pressed at a device placed in some recess behind those strange fleshy protrusions on the sides of the head, and their voice was translated into mine. \"Of course, come this way\"\n\nThey lead me to a large room, with two seats at a low glass topped table, presumably holographic; each seat designed for one of us. Taking the hint, I lowered myself into the seat. Unable to truly relax, I kept my thorax lifted off the ground. I placed my tablet on the table and typed out again. \"You already have the full drawn out agreement sent to you, are there any terms that need to be defined further before we seal it?\"\n\nThe human sat down, with the others hanging back near the wall. They replied. \"There is just one term we find interesting...\" They brought up the specific page of the agreement on the screen of the table.\n\n\"What about it?\"\n\n\"Why cane sugar in particular?\"\n\n\"It tastes good\"", "Log 13:887:99:04\n\nThe seat of learning they have here is called a library. They store their information here in paper and on disks and screens; I will get to an overview of the technology later.\n\nThis is a wonderful place to observe them though, as they have to stay quiet in the learning spaces. This means I could see their biggest power - they can actually change the mood of those around them non verbally. If they walk into a room happy, people around them become happier. If they are impatient or anxious, they spread that as well. Even anger seems to spread this way, and no one of them seems to have more of this power than another - it is equally shared.\n\nThe strange thing is, they just spread whatever mood they find themselves in with nary a thought to those around them, nor any idea they can spread positivity. It is as if they are unaware of their own power to shape the world around them with love." ]	3
No time or format constraints. Chase can be mounted, on foot or in a vehicle.	[WP] Write a chase scene.	[ "I turned the corner from 3rd Street and looked up. Through the crowd at the bus stop, I could see her neon-pink ponytail bounding up the hill, along with my briefcase full of money. I followed, trying to match her pace.\n\n\"Hey kid, watch it!\" a man in a suit shouted, assuming I'm just some high-school kid skipping class. People say I still look like a teenager, but they don't realize that I'm one of the most highly-paid programmers in Seattle.\n\nShe knew, though. Somehow.\n\nAt the top of the hill, I watched her pink hair disappear around another corner. I pushed past some gawkers on my way to get closer.\n\nShe was fast.\n\nI was running, but I was losing ground.\n\nShe was almost out of my line of sight.\n\nI was running out of ideas.\n\nThat's when it hit me. I may not win in a footrace, but I can outwit.\n\nI stopped running. Out of breath.\n\nI pulled out my phone and opened up the Amazon Staff App.\n\nI typed in a few lines of code. I typed in the coordinates and hit \"execute\". Then I watched.\n\nThere was a five-way intersection a few blocks up, where I saw her pink ponytail run into the crosswalk.\n\nAs she crossed, I watched. Five of Amazon's driverless cars now had new instructions. They all converged simultaneously on the intersection, forming a car circle that she couldn't escape. She turned around, liked a predator in a cage, and she saw me calmly approaching.\n\n\"You thought you'd get away, Rosie,\" I said, doing my best not to appear frightened or hurt. \"But it's not gonna be that simple.\"\n\n\"Hey, listen, let me explain,\" she said, still clutching the briefcase closely.\n\n\"I don't wanna hear it,\" I said. \"I know that you're not an Australian heiress. I know that you're accent was probably fake. I know that that guy probably wasn't an infamous scientist-turned black-market-art-dealer named 'Unpredictable Pete'. Hell, I bet that's not even your real hair.\"\n\nRosie looked at me, unsure of what to say.\n\n\"You probably didn't fall in love with me on the street, did you?\" I continued, now holding back tears.\n\n\"Listen,\" she said, looking around even more frantically, and now, the group of people at the bus stop were starting to converge on us.\n\n\"Just tell me the truth, Rosie,\" I said. \"I think I deserve that much.\"\n\nThat's when it hit. The bus. It rammed into one of the driverless cars, creating an opening through which Rosie slipped immediately. Just like that, the briefcase was gone.\n\nShe had won. She'd stolen my money and my heart.\n\nIn the aftermath of the accident, I walked up what I assume is her route. I kicked pebbles on the ground, coming to terms with the fact that this whole thing was a gigantic con.\n\nThat's when I found her pink wig lying on the sidewalk.\n\nSo it wasn't her real hair.\n\nI knew it.\n\n///\n \nScene #10 of r/100scenes" ]	1
	[WP] In the far future, we can buy and download video games, movies, dreams, and language packs to use/play in our brains. You try to illegally download one of them, but you realize you've downloaded the wrong thing...	[ " This is the last time I use that fucking retro gaming download site. Fucking Nintendo. Sure, they _could_ just release all their old titles for BPCs, but nooo, they refuse to do so, and they make it impossible to find reputable versions online.\n\nIm going to have to call a technician now. Damn thing fried the optic nerve connection to the GPU probably, if not the GPU itself How did people even live without constant frame rate and color filters, the world was just so... Ugly. And it didnt have antialiasing. Its actually kinda giving me motion sickness. Navigating the web through only voice commands has to be the most annoying aspect of a fried GPU.\n\n\"Siri, call BPC technician\"\n\n\"Calling - BP Trisha\"\n\nFuck me\n\n\"Yeah hey Trish, Siri misdial. Mhm. I think I fried my BPC's GPU. Yeah I know. Okay. Yes definetely! Ill call you to set a date okay? Kay, see ya!\"\n\n\"Siri call B-P-C Tech-nician\"\n\n\"Calling, PC Tech Nissan\"\n\n\"Yeah hey Josh. Yeah I know its not work hours, misdial, sorry. Uh, actually, do you know any good techs for brain PCs? Really? Could you text me the number? Thanks Josh, sorry to bother you, see you monday\"\n\nWell at least that was useful. Jesus, it was amazing we had processors jacked directly into our organic brains, and still voice recognition was such shit. Damn this future, wheres the autopilot for my flying car? " ]	1
	[WP] You're a genie hunter who catches genies in lamps. You sell the genies to the royal families of oppressive governments, because after the third wish, misfortune of the same magnitude of their fulfilled wishes falls upon them.	[ "Through the dusty canyons somewhere is Korea, lied a small town, devoid of technology. Its population, not more than three hundred at the most. It didn't have many visitor, since it was such a Hard-to-access terrain. \nMaybe that's why every resident of this small town had gathered and was overly excited, when they saw the shadow of a man emerging from within the canyons. \n\n\nThey didn't trust him, and wouldn't talk. But he was on a mission. Walking with determination. Striding with intent. \n\n\nHe came to the townsmen and shouted out. \n\"I come in peace!\" \n\nTo this, he got no response other than the stern look he had already been receiving.\n\n\"Okay. Let's talk business then. I have a two hundred gold reward for whoever helps me as a guide. All I need is information.\"\n\nThe townsmen exchanged Glances. None but one walked through.\n Merely a teenager, Arnold, walked willingly, and without talking, the stranger started walking across the town to the other side of the canyons, and Arnold followed.\n\nOnce out of the sight of the townsmen, the stranger said out.\n\"Jeremy\".\n\n\"Arnold. How can I be of assistance\"\n\n\"I have heard of a cave with a Copper sculpture at its mouth, somewhere within this region. \"\n\n\"You have? The last person to come here was also looking for the same. He never came back. So was the one before. And the one before. \"\n\nWas that supposed to scare Jeremy? Pfft.\n\n\"Where is it?\"\n\n\"There is one rock in this canyon, that can be seen at all times. Follow that and you will come across the Copper statue. If it exists.\"\n\n\"That's all I need to know\", said Jeremy, flipping over a bag of gold coins. Arnold grabbed those, and walked away. \n\n\nAfter two days of rough travelling through these canyons, Jeremy did come across strange things. He saw some drawings on the walls of the canyon, and knew he was on track. This was the perfect place for a genie to have been defeated. \n\nRocky cayon, add a storm with lightning, any kod could have trapped the genie in a lamp. This particular Genie was considered a Dormant and a Dominant one, even amongst genies. And Jeremy knew that none before had found that Genie before. Afterall, he was destined to it.\n\n\nAs his trip down the Canyon went on and on, Jeremy remembered how his greed had sent him on a never ending quest of Genie-Hunting. \n\nOne lucky Man, finds a lamp in the Middle of nowhere and gets three wishes.\n\nFirst, he Wishes for Immortality. Granted at a flinch of a second. Second, he wishes for having enough Money he needs, Everytime he needs it. That explains the magical Backpack worn by Jeremy. But the third wish... Genie Hunters referred to it as the Backfiring Wish. If onlt Jeremy had known. He had felt so full and satisfied at his two wishes, that greed and selfishness took over. He first asked the Genie if there are other Genies. He got an affirmation. Then he made the wish. He wished that no person ever, gain fortune due to a Genie. And the wish was granted. But it Backfired. It destined Jeremy to hunt for Lamps and sell them off. \n\nOnly, he did this to misfortune the buyers. He did this to rectify the faults in this world. The rich whose Greed kills the poor. He did this to deal with them.\n\n\nHe always sold Lamps to powerful people. For a very heavy price, which he didn't care about. What he actually wanted, was to get the First wish. He always made a deal with the buyer that he gets the first wish. And excited about the Magic of the Genie, the buyers always agreed. \n\nGenies are smart. Jeremy needed to know where all the genies in the world were. So he could use them all. But this wish was refused. Instead, he could get whereabouts of only the next Lamp to be found. \n\nThe first person he took down was a Ruthless Monarch, Adolf Hitler. Hitler's first wish allowed Jeremy to go on further to more Monarchs. It was thanks to Jeremy, that till date, no one had managed to Rule the entire world. And Jeremy Considered it his Destiny, to prevent that.\n\nSnap back to the present, He came to where the entrance of the Cave was. This cave was Magical. The Copper statue was that of a Genie. And on entering the cave, Jeremy Felt his immortality weaken. He understood that this cave cancelled Magic. Which explains how the genie was kept captured. It took him two hours to finally find the Lamp. This was going to Queen of Britain. Her reign, was one Jeremy feared. \n\nJust as he lifted the Lamp, he felt something pierce through his chest. Where his Centuries old heart was. He had gotten shot from behind.\n\nHe fell to the floor, Unable to turn around, and heard footsteps. \n\n\"Arnold isn't even a Korean name. How fooliah are you? I'm called Kim. I have followed twenty people, and lured them into this cave, and you are the only one to find the Lamp. Thanks.\"\n\n\"What do you plan!\"\n\n\"My plans are very simple. First, I will become the ruler of Korea. Then I'll wish for this Desert, to become a land with resources and fertility. Third, I will wish for nuclear potential to conquer the world.\"\n\n Kim was unable to supress him evil Laughter. \n\nBut as the last of his breaths left his mouth, Jeremy was the one truely Laughing. He knew where this was headed. He knew that the third wish is a curse. But Kim didn't. \n\nAnd so, Jeremy was finally relieved of the curse of Immortality, and Kim Jong Un folloed to rule Korea, only, not knowing what was at stake for getting the Nuclear Power he wished for...\n\nHa ha ha....", "Most of the families exhibited the same pattern. Burning through the three wishes and then bang, ruin. It was like clockwork.\n\nThis one seemed like any of my other assignments. Unlike New Russia, summer here was actually nice, and strangely nearly everything was on sale. \n\n\"Maybe I could make a few pit stops on my way back,\" I thought to myself, looking at the price of some nice pants on my way out of the airport. My mind always wandered during these trips. \n\nI stepped through the portal out onto the street, the capital before me in the near distance. The horizon burned a bright red, kinda like the inconveniently shaped genie lamp was burning a whole in my bag. It might as well have been a crowbar.\n\nThe city was lined with skyscrapers on one side, and factories on the other, propelling out endless amounts of steam.\n\n\"You gonna move anytime soon?\", I heard a voice from behind me. \"You've been standing there for almost a minute. Some of us have places to be you know!\"\n\nI turned to face him, not saying anything.\n\n\"Alright I'm gonna count to two and if you're still in my way we're gonna have a problem.\" \n\n\"This asshole doesn't even have the common courtesy to give me one more extra second?\", I thought as I turned back around and kept walking. I had to get to the royal family residence, the New Well Manor, before dark. I fished my phone out of my pocket, called whatever the equivalent of Uber was in this place. and punched in the address HQ sent me. \n\nThe drive was already going to be long, and wasn't helped by the seemingly endless red light we encountered leaving the airport. \n\nThe next light shone an aggressive red as well and remained so right until our car pulled closer. Green is always nice. \n\n\"Second times a charm! The driver chuckled into the rear-view\", looking disappointed as he brought his eyes back to the road, perhaps due to my lack of response. \n\nThe minutes blended together and I was awoken from my daydreaming by the drivers voice, as enthusiastic as the first time. \n\n\"Nearly at Dead County!\" he said to the rear view mirror again, turning the wheel left. \n\nAnother few blocks and the car came to a semi-lifeless halt. \n\n\"You have a good one now!\", he yelled at the car door as I swung it shut. \n\n\"New Well Manor\". The words inscripted on a metal plate hung on the tall black gates. \n\nI pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose and looked up at the fortress. \n\n\"It's game time,\" I said to myself as I felt my bag to make sure the lamp was still there. \n\nI walked up the two small steps that led to hundreds more. \n\nKnock knock knock, I hit my fist against the door. \n\nI waited in some silence before trying again. \n\nKNOCK KNOCK \n\nThis time the door had swung open almost too quickly.\n\n\"Lord Gabriel has been awaiting you. Down the hall and straight in,\" a guard walked me into the manor. \n\nThe throne room doors were already cracked open, so I stepped inside. Lord Gabriel was sitting patiently, back to me. \n\n\"You are bringing me a genie lamp, is that right?\"\n\nI pulled the golden lamp from my bag and placed it heavily on the table in front of me. \n\nGabriel's chair turned around slowly, his round spectacles holding back his reaching eyes as he picked up the lamp. \n\nUnlike his glasses, he was a large character with unkept hair, and a wise beard that had seen decades of truly prosperous and trying times. \n\n\"My first wish!\" his voice shook the room, \"is to have more money than I know what to do with!\" \n\nUpon the completion of this sentence, a sea a golden coins flooded the halls of the manor, bodies of guards could be heard thumping the walls. \n\n\"NEXT!\" the Lord bellowed, \"I want this nation to have the finest hats in all of the New World.\" \n\nThe sound of hats, however they may sound, was heard sweeping across the countryside. \n\n\"And finally!\" Lord Gabriel began to speak. \n\nMy eyes lit up. This was it. \n\n\"Well, you of all people should know we don't count to three, Mr. Freeman.\" \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n ", "\"And that's all, kid?\" An evil grin escaped his lips.\n\n\"Of course. I think I made the terms quite clear. This genie will obey you for 3 wishes and then will inflict upon you what you caused\" I think this is one of my better plans thus far.\n\n\"And you want us to spend about 50% of our current budget on charity, is this correct? I am just making sure.\"\n\n\"Yes, that would be all.\" \n\nAs I left their office, I noticed the world around me began to change. \n\nFirst off was their rival organisation, \"Cars4U\", which they had laid their eyes upon for quite a while. I suspect they wanted to bestow a cruel fate upon them, but I was oddly specific with my terms this time. Unusual for me, but it's for the better. Usually I would just tell them that they can wish for whatever they want, but that has caused a bit of harm in the past, and I am not a person who would ignore my errors easily.\n\nAs the genie granted his first wish, I immediately noticed the sudden success of \"Cars4U\", which would soon lift them to #2 on the car market. Furthermore, by annexing \"Cars4U\", the new corporation \"Vehicle4Cars\" was founded. This would eventually turn them into the strongest force on the car market, which could not be challenged by anyone else out there in our entire world. As such, they helped another organisation climb the ladder and supported their growth, which would then at the end backfire and make their own organization prosper. Or so they thought. Predictable.\n\nGranting their second wish, the genie assured their dominance by assisting the small business concerns, which were not a threat, but made sure they would have a decent basis for further trades. This would eventually make \"Vehicles4Cars\" appear as a thoroughly good company, gaining them the support of the common people.\n\nFinally, the genie granted their final wish. They simply wished to for eternal prosperity of all businesses under their rule and all their respective branches. This would make sure that smaller companies could never catch up to them, but had to join them in order to have any success, making their company the sole supplier for any necessity known to mankind. Since this wish does not target anyone in a negative way, it cannot backfire in a negative way. Or so they thought, again.\n\nIt was fun watching those changes, watching them grow and watching them laugh. If they had known that I planned every single detail months ahead, they probably wouldn't have done any of this.\n\nI do not randomly sell genies to anyone. I sell it to oppressive companies, those who have evil intentions in their hearts. Before I act, I inform myself as well as I can. Obviously I do not wish to bring ruin upon those who have a kind heart. Furthermore, I do not give a genie to those who act upon a cruel desire. If it is not a selfish one, it will harm the world, not them.\n\nAs I watched their united business fail, I noticed that the small companies, those who work with heart, started to prosper. The company who had the most influence in the entire world, more than the government itself, was revealed to be an evil organisation, causing harm to the common people in order to force their own growth. As such, the world learned an important lesson and focused on supporting those who have good intentions, but not the needed resources. \n\nTo sum it up, the evil companies fell and the good companies rose.\n\nWhy, you ask? As a good salesman always does, I lied about the terms.\n\nThe genie does not inflict what he caused, he inflicts misfortune of the same magnitude of the fulfilled wishes. Because I lied about those terms, they made sure to support others in order to spread their influence, instead of straight up eliminating everyone else. \n\nEvidently, I could never forget these terms. They bestowed this fate upon me, after all.\n\nA good salesman does not forget his errors.\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] Your entire body involuntarily clenches as you hear your thrillseeking demigod roommate speak those dreaded words: "I'm bored."	[ "Don't get me wrong about Abeiron, he was an incredible friend. Sure, there were difficulties with living with an eight foot, over-thousand pound demigod who easily thrashed his older brother Heracles without breaking a sweat (which was done to protect me, I admit) but otherwise he was just more than willing to learn more about the mortal realm.\n\nBut nothing makes my joints lock up, my spine lock itself straight or my asshole clench tighter than two words I've come to dread, two words which meant he was past the point of no return.\n\n'I'm bored,' he said as he stroked his glowing red beard.\n\nHe stood up from the couch as it audibly groaned, stretching himself from maybe days of inactivity from playing the game on the TV. 'Oh, crap,' I said as he approached me with a smile on his face. 'I've got work in the morning, Aby.'\n\n'No you don't,' he said to me. 'I've checked with the Fates. 'You're free tomorrow and I want to go swimming in the Pacific.'\n\n'Then go yourself, I need to wash the car,' I said.\n\n'Already done,' he said as he lifted me and threw me over his shoulder. 'Come on, let's hurry. If we get there before the sun rises in the morning then maybe we can turn into shark mermen and hunt some fish.'\n\n'Oh, sure, and why not hunt Poachers in Africa,' I said sarcastically.\n\nHis face lit up when I said that. 'We can use shark teeth to make hunting knives!'\n\n'Me and my fucking mouth,' I groaned before he had teleported us into the middle of the ocean.", "\"Joe, let's go somewhere. I'm bored.\"\n\nA shiver went down my spine as I woke up from my bed and looked at my demigod roomate who was placed under my care as her 'host family'. Despite being a beauty and really cute girl for her age of seventeen, she was a total mess at being a girl. A hardcore thrill seeker, a messy eater, careless girl. And knowing her immortal status, thrill seeking got to a whole new level. Giving a awkward laugh, I asked,\"Liza, you do remember what happened the previous times you said you were bored and went somewhere, right? And besides it's a sunday morning, be a good guest and let me sleep.\"\n\nLiza looked at me with a innocent look and replied with a cute voice,\"Hmm... Nope! I don't remember what happened! And BECAUSE it's a Sunday that we have to do something fun and exciting!\"\n\nI gave her a straight look and told her,\"Well, then let me remind you. Overloading and shutting down the whole power grid for a whole six hours, stopping a person's heart only to restart it, almost burning down a factory full of biohazardous material, almost causing a nuclear plant's meltdown... Yeah that looks like a good reason to bring you out when you're bored. We're NOT doing things fun and exciting by your definition, Liza.\"\n\n\"Pleasey cheesy with a lightning bolt on top? And besides no one died or got even close to dying. And besides, the man whose heart I stopped and restarted is alive and well.\" Liza reasoned and gave me her cutest look. \n\nStill giving her a straight face I told Liza,\"I can see why your ten other host families returned you to Zeus. And I'm not surprised.\"\n\n\"Hey! That's mean of you, Joe. I promise you it'll be the last time okay? I won't complain I'm bored anymore.\"\n\nDespite my hardest efforts to resist, my efforts went down the drain, and I gave in. I mean, I couldn't turn down a cute and beautiful demigod and girl that was about to get down on her knees and beg a mortal and a guy, right? I sighed. \"Fine... On one condition...\"\n\n\"Joe? This isn't a volcano or a quarantine zone or somewhere I can find thrill! This is an amusement park!\"\n\n\"Deal with it, I'm a mortal remember? I'm not risking my life just for your thrill, although I'm never dead... somehow. And besides, Zeus wanted you to learn 'human culture', right? Well, this is one of the ways humans find thrill, so I'm doing you two favours already. Be thankful.\"\n\n\"Oh come on, you do know as a host family of a demigod your family is given 'Holy Intervention' to prevent you or your family members from getting the slightest scratch on your skin.\" Liza snapped.\n\n\"Too bad. As the host, I get to decide.\"\n\nI brought Liza to 'lightning and thunder'- the fastest and most thrilling rollercoaster ride. Which surprisingly, Liza seemed excited. Probably from the word 'lightning'.\n\nAt first she had a little fun. Then she began to feel bored. I began to feel sick in the stomach.\n\n\"Uh, Liza, you go for another round without me. I'm not feeling too good.\"\n\n\"Ha! You mere mortals suck! Withdrawing after one round. I'll go twenty rounds and come out the same I went in! A hundred miles an hour isn't even a light year's close to fast!\" Liza mocked.\n\n\"Whatever. Do what you want.\" Probably something I shouldn't have said. Before I could correct myself Liza was gone. \n\nI went to the nearby restraunt to get a drink, sit down and relax. \"Hopefully she isn't doing anything too shocking.\" Just when I finished my sentence, I heard \"The rollercoaster's going nuts! It's moving too fast! It's power point has been overloaded!\n\n\"Oh boy... Here we go again. What's going to happen this time?\" I sighed and went to where the energy was coming from.\n\n", "Loki despises the reputation the Marvel films have given him.\n\n\"I don't have cosmic plans to take over the world,\" he bitches, putting the word \"cosmic\" in air quotes. Here we go. He's drunk. \"All I need is a good laugh now and then.\"\n\nLoki only amuses himself. Last week he made my clothes vanish while we walked past an elementary school playground. Yesterday he gave me the shits and then filled our toilet with spiders. I keep trying to move out but he changed my credit score and I can't put a damn deposit down anywhere else. \n\nI cannot deny that he is nothing like the Marvel character, nor is he anything like the ancient myths. His immense power is rivaled only by his immense immaturity. He has twenty-four fart noise apps on his iPhone. On Facebook, his job is listed as Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. \n\n\"We should totally do something tonight, man.\"\n\nI sigh, but he doesn't notice. According to him, we're best friends, and he refuses to be convinced otherwise. \"Oh, I got it! Let's convince a minor celebrity that--\"\n\nI cut him off there. \"You remember what happened when you did that to Jenny McCarthy.\"\n\n\"Yeah, it was great! Everyone is getting measles again!\"\n\n\"That's not great! That's the god-fucking opposite of great!\"\n\n\"You just don't get it, bro.\"\n\n\"I guess I don't. Listen, can we at least do something that doesn't affect children this time?\"\n\n\"Ruin all the fun, why don't you.\" He chugs the last of his beer. \"Okay, well I could make the guys on Fox News do a segment about black peop--\"\n\n\"No! Jesus Christ!\"\n\n\"Go back in time and give a dictator a funny mustac--\"\n\n\"Hitler.\"\n\n\"Oh, right.\"\n\n\"Here's an idea,\" I say. \"Why don't you have another beer?\" He never notices the small, orange tablets I slip into the can while I'm cracking it open. Fifteen minutes later he's sound asleep.\n\nI pull out my phone and type: Note to self: pick up more Rohypnol.", "\"I'm bored.\"\n\nRita's eyes flew up from her Kindle to fix on her (powerful, immortal, thrill-seeking asshole) demigod housemate. \n\n\"Whatever you want the answer is NO,\" she said with solid finality. \"We are not going skydiving, bungee jumping, or into an ACTIVE WAR ZONE because you think it will be interesting.\"\n\n\"But I'm boooooored,\" Damion (he picked it himself and she still thought he sounded like some romance novelist's idea of a hero) drawled, draping himself over the arm of the couch like the diva he was. \"Entertain me, mortal!\"\n\n\"Call me mortal one more time and I'll entertain you by signing you up for sensitivity training,\" Rita threatened pointedly. \"What happened to the books I got you?\"\n\n\"I read them. Now I'm bored again,\" he whined, and glared at the lamp until it caught on fire. Rita snatched the handheld fire extinguisher from beside her table and sprayed both lamp and demigod liberally. \n\nThe lamp hissed and went out. Damion made a noise not unlike a squawk of outrage and dove for cover. \n\n\"Being bored does not mean you can light things on fire!\" she yelled and lobbed the now-empty fire extinguisher at him. \"We talked about this!\"\n\n\"We talked about not lighting your bed on fire,\" Damion protested from his hiding spot behind the couch. \"You said nothing about lamps.\"\n\nThat probably explained the disappearance of her OTHER lamp. Good thing they were cheap ones from the thrift store. \n\n\"If you light anything else on fire without also being in a fight for your life, I am never buying skittles for you ever again!\"\n\nYou got real creative when you had to threaten a demigod. Lucky for her, he still hasn't figured out this century's money system, and tended to short out electrical devices as often as not. Without her good will, he was stuck. \n\nIf anyone asked how she got him... well that stupid ritual in the stupid kids book was a lot more accurate than she expected, okay? \n\n\"That does not solve my problem!\" He fussed and threw himself down onto the couch like the toddler he was (anyone who wanted kids ought to try their luck with a demigod first. At least kids couldn't smite little dogs who freaked them out) and stared at her expectantly. \n\nRita dropped the trashed lamp into the garbage and stared back at him before pulling a line out of her mother's playbook. \n\nShe smiled sweetly- his eyes got wide and alarmed- and pointed towards the kitchen. \"You could always do the dishes,\" she suggested adoringly. \"Or I could find something else for you to do-\"\n\nHe leapt off the couch like there was ants in his pants and scrambled for his room. \"I will find something for myself!\" He shouted on his way past. \"Cruel mortal!\"\n\n\"Don't light anything on fire!\" She hollered after him. \"Or do anything else destructive!\"\n\n\"I do what I want!\"\n\n\"Not in my house you don't!\"\n\nStupid demigod. \n\n+++\n\nIf you like this story, I can send you a link to the rest of my work, including a full-length novel!" ]	4
	[WP] Serial killing is a legitimate business. You're a temp.	[ "You were supposed to be transferred today. The HR rep had this frustrated look on his face, and he said no one stays with him very long, he said don't worry about it.\n\n\"Hold this.\"\n\nYou weren't transferred. He places a length of rope in your hands, gently. You were expecting someone rougher. Someone angry. He's just anxious. You expected your job to be holding struggling bodies down, or spying on them before they're caught. You thought you'd be a lookout or a distraction. You worked out for this. All summer you worked out, you got strong, you got this job because you can hold a struggling body down in the summer heat.\n\nHe doesn't need to hold them down. He uses drugs to make them quiet and still, then he carries their sleeping bodies into a basement, gently, like they're children. They're younger than you are, actually. The oldest you've seen him kill was about twenty. He likes teenage boys, he's picky about what they look like but he's not picky enough to turn down girls in the same age range if he needs to. \n\nMost of them kill indiscriminately, you know, if they offer you a permanent position you're expecting to be given contracts at random. They asked if you had a type and you'd just said you liked the thrill of it. A smile from your HR manager, That's what I like to hear.\n\nHR also said that the man they're pairing you up with is very elite but he just looks like some creep, shivering over soon-to-be corpses. You don't want to work with him. You hate him. He's got bloodstains on his clothes, they look like his own. People avoid him in public. \n\nHe takes the rope back. Ties Vic to the beams holding up the floor above you and turns on the light bulb above him. The atmosphere is important, he told you on day one, he gets very specific contracts because he has a good track record and they let him have some choice in who Vic is today on the condition he keeps torturing them like this. \n\n\"Hey, honey.\" \n\nVic wakes up like they all do, to a brief panic and a stranger who smells like iron and looks like a demon over him. A halo of harsh light from the bulb over his head. Your first day, while he was telling you how important atmosphere is, he started by knocking you out like he does them. He woke you up this same way, a hand on your cheek, his body perched on top of yours. Gentle pressure. Don't worry, he said, I won't go there with you.\n\nMost of his Vics are revenge killings. The client wants him to hurt. He told you he gets a lot of suicides, too. Older teenagers are always eager to jump off a bridge, and if they happen to have enough money, well, they're happy to dump what they can't take with them on an ex-doctor who could, theoretically make it painless.\n\nHe laughed, You're not my type anyway.\n\nYou've seen him not make it painless. You told HR in the records while they were asking why you want a transfer, and he just laughed. He said it doesn't matter how he kills them as long as his paperwork looks good. You aren't sure why you were expecting some kind of ethics. No honor among thieves, you know?\n\nVic is breathing too quickly, your boss has the kind of excitement that permeates the air around him. You could cut the tension with a knife, but he's the one holding a blade right now. \"If you don't cry I won't kill you.\" \n\nHe'll make a dozen promises and they'll all be lies. You feel sick watching him do this so you step out and text your HR manager again. Again. He's ignoring you, of course. This is a cold field but you don't know what you expected.\n\nHe's always real quiet after this. He says he wanted something that wouldn't run away and that this was the closest he ever got to that. Why are you acting as his therapist? This isn't your job. You're supposed to be the opposite of a therapist. \n\nBut you take notes like a good little trainee. If they won't transfer you now maybe they will when he's gone." ]	1
	[WP] Your a character in a fictional story who has just realised a plot hole	[ "Jason picked up the news paper from off the front porch. He unfolded it and read the headline:\n\n[Be The First To See The Man With The Yellow Hat]\n\nYellow hat? Jason was ecstatic. He loved yellow things. He had a fancy for them ever since his mother beat him with a yellow paddle as a child. He folded the paper back up and walked straight to where the man with the yellow hat was.\n\nThe man stood on an elevated stage in the town square. His yellow hat reflecting the sun directly into the eyes of the onlookers, of which there were surprisingly many. Jason was caught at the back of the crowd. Apparently word of the yellow hat had spread quickly. Jason knew he had to get to the front. He needed to get the hat. He loved yellow things.\n\nHe began pushing through the crowd. At first he tried as politely as he could. He used \"please\" and \"thank you\" and \"excuse me\" a number of times, but his nice words were only met with grunts and tsks. Frustrated with his lack of progress Jason looked again to the stage. The man with the yellow hat appeared to be finishing up, flaunting his hat in extravagant ways.\n\nJason became irate. He needed the hat. He pushed through the crowd with force. Old lady's met the hard concrete by his hand while young children learned the term aerodynamic as he tossed them skyward on his yellow hat rampage. As he neared the stage he pushed through some security tape, he presumed it was to keep the crowd at bay.\n\nWhy he thought security would use tape instead of a barrier of some sort, nobody knows... or cares for that matter. After Jason went through the tape he fell 12 meters into a hole in the plot of land adjacent to the stage. He died on impact. \n\nCoincidentally a strong gust of wind blew the man with the yellow hat's yellow hat off his head as he was looking into the hole. It landed on Jason's corpse." ]	1
	[WP] The world of monsters and magic is real, but the only ones who know this are the authors who write about it. Their only way of warning us of the impending invasion is through their writing.	[ "Dear Reader, \n\nYou must run. NOW! Get off Reddit, get in your car, and just drive. They will not tell this on the news, because only the chosen can write about such things, but an invasion is coming. The conjurer is almost here and Earth will be no match for her. She will bring ancient dragons who will rain fire from above, zombies who will lift out of their graves, and behemoths who will come from the sea. \n\nYou must drive until the road ends. Until you find some sort of sanctuary. Leave life behind, get off the grid, and never come back to the world. Before it is too late. \n\nYou have been warned. \n\n\nM" ]	1
	[WP] It was a cigarette, still burning.	[ "Dares are brilliantly stupid. Some are lottle flashlights, others are supernovas. This one.. well, I'd thought it a flashlight, but I've stared too long now and I've gone blind from the radiant idiocity. I can't see well enough to make out just what it is in front of me, but I'm trapped. All I can do is stare, blinking stupid-spots out of my eyes. Each blink I seem to cross a realization.\n\nMy friend. Well, I thought he was anyways. I don't know why I did. Alcohol? I only had a sip or two. Crowd effect. A lot of people seemed to like him. I guess I wanted to as well. But I knew, in the back of my head, that he was up to no good. He'd punched Chrissy when she was pregnant with her son. If that wasn't a sign that some screws were lose, I don't know what else could have been. Yet I trusted him enough to take this mind-numbingly foolhardy dare.\n\nOh, just a jaunt through the abandoned warehouse! Nothing big. Nevermind the ghost stories. The sounds, the crawling things of dead-child-flesh and horror-movie blood lakes. Made up, obviously. No consistency, all of the stories were conflicting and made for shock value. I believed him even if I knew better. Something was up, and I could feel it in my bones, but I trusted him and now I'm here, femur powdered by the pipe laying across it, trapped neatly and about to find out what these ghost stories were made of. \n\nA single, glowing orange eye peered at me through the inky night shrouded from the moonlight and made darker still by the sunspots of my failure. I could feel my brain shrieking obcsenities at me, cursing me for not listening to it.\n\nThe eye came closer. Click, scrapeclick, scrapeclick, scrapeclick. I could make out the barest edges of a human form, the eye centered on the jaw of the head. It crouched, and there was the scrape of metal on concrete. A knife glimmered in the reflected orange light. Finally I realized what it was. It was a cigarette, still burning.\n\n\"You always acted so superior. But look at you now. Helpless. Whimpering, like a dog. Like the bitch you are. I knew you were just as easy to sway, just as quick to leap at the chance of 'friendship'. And look where it got you. I'm going to enjoy making you scream and cry, and no one will come near this place. No one will know. Never, because not even the cops want to come here. You're mine.\" He said around the cigarette. I had only just worked my vision clear before I was blinded again, this time by the sharp pain of a cigarette being dragged across my face." ]	1
	[WP] One day while watching The Price is Right you hear your name called and someone who looks just like you stands up in the audience	[ "It was just another day spent lounging on the plaid couch, sipping on warm milk, just wishing for a chance to be on television. If only I could find the right price, I would never have to work again and could spend all day making birdhouses. As I wistfully watched the droll questions drag on and on I suddenly hear my name called. I stand up, and walk down to the stage. Simon Cowell and Gordon Ramsay say my steak is overcooked and my guitar playing is terrible, and I break down crying.\n\nWait, what? I don't anything about game shows. Why in the world am I on The Price is Right? Why am I watching it at all? What has happened to my life? Where did my friends go? Poof\n\nI wake from my dream utterly confused, devoid of purpose and will to live. Or change the channel.", "Gary slumped onto his couch and let out a long sigh. He wearily grabbed the remote, turning on the TV and started to switch through channels.\n\nThe Big Bang Theory No\n\nKeeping up with the Kardashians Who gives a shit?\n\nThe Price is Right Eh, why the hell not?\n\nThe crowd was cheering as Drew prepared to call out someone from the studio audience. \"This shit is so staged\" he thought to himself. He yawned and began to close his eyes, when he was woken up with a shock when he heard \"Gary Williamson, COME ON DOWN\". Huh, that's funny, someone's got the same name as me he thought. But next he saw the guy and spat out his Bud Light. \"HOLY SHIT this can't be happening.\" The audience member not only had the same name as him, but looked identical. Everything to the bald patch, the thick brown moustache. He was even wearing the same Cubs t-shirt as him. What the fuck is going on?\n\nThe member came down onto the stage, shook hands with Drew, and then clutched his chest, and began to fall on the floor. Panic erupted from the audience, and a paramedic ran over. With that Gary slowly started to realise he wasn't sat at home, he was sat in a white room. Then he remembered. He had died live on air of a heart attack. He often forgot things like this, he had been dead for so long.\n\nAn angel came into the Electronics department of Heaven-mart, with a name-tag that simply read \"Steve - Manager\" and said \"Sir if you're not going to buy anything than can you please leave the store. \"Okay sure, sorry uh-Steve,\" Gary replied sheepishly. In a soft tone, the angel said \"Thank you sir, and may God bless you on your way out\".\n\nLater that day the angel, came home to his house on cloud 734,154, and slumped on the couch. He took a sip from his can of Soul Light, and let out a sigh. \n\"Now this is heaven\"\n\n", "I wasn't really paying attention to the TV. I just had The Price is Right on as background noise while I fought my cats for the laundry. One was in the basket, one was hopping from folded pile to folded pile, the other was just sitting next to his water dish, staring at a piece of paper my son had dropped like it was about to run away. It wasn't until my husband said something that I noticed. \n\n\"Huh. That's weird,\" he said, dragging our son away from the cat in the laundry basket so he could no longer torment her. \n\n\"What? Did he try to eat a chunk of the cat's hair again?\" I asked glancing up. Tyler's eyes were glued to the TV, his mouth wide open in awe. I looked at the TV as they said the audience member's name again. \"That's cool. Someone has the same name as me.\" The camera panned back to the audience member and there she... I was. \n\n\"MOMMY!\" Hayden yelled at the TV. \n\nMy phone started going off. My grandma, three of my aunts, my sister in law, and several of the ladies in a mom group messaging me about my appearance on TV and asking why I didn't tell them I was going to be. \n\nWe sat and watched as she... I... Whomever, failed miserably. Towards the end of the show, my mom called me to explain. \n\nWhen she was pregnant with me, she worked at a fast food restaurant. One of her regulars became obsessed with her. Colored her hair red, got a loose perm, changed her name, and, even got plastic surgery. My mom got a restraining order after she found out the lady had been artificially inseminated shortly after my birth announcement. \n\nShe found her on social media a few years ago, found my profile, and forced her daughter into changing her name, altering her body, and even tried to get her to get pregnant after we announced we were expecting. She kept sending pictures to my mom of her daughter's alterations and negative pregnancy tests. Every time my mom blocked her, she find a way around it. \n\nWe're currently setting up security cameras and an alarm company will be here Monday. I'm thoroughly weirded out and angry at my mom for not telling me about my doppelganger sooner. Neither the crazy lady nor her daughter have really done anything to be considered a threat but I'd rather be safe. \n\nI'm calling everyone I know and setting up a code for when they see me in public to make sure it's really me, Tyler keeps quizzing me on our life together, probably to annoy me since he knows I'm me, and we're teaching Hayden a secret code too. If you see me around, ask me any random question. If the answer isn't \"Purple because giraffes can't talk,\" then it's not me. \n", "Norman clicked on the TV. It whirred, the screen buzzed for a moment, and after a few seconds, the CRT screen came alive. I really should invest in a new television, Norman thought to himself. But he was too old fashioned for the fancy new smart-TV screens and high contrast ratios that the \"hip kids\" were using, and he knew it. \n\nFocusing his attention on the screen, he saw one of his favorite shows was running: The Price is Right. He'd even attended a few of the screenings and been part of the audience that clapped and cheered the contestants on. But then he frowned. What? He thought he might have misheard his name being called, but to his surprise, someone that looked just like him, only a little younger, stood up from the audience and began walking up to the stage. \n\nNorman smiled suddenly as a memory struck him. Huh. He ejected the recording from his VHS, carefully stacking it on his other tapes, and switched to he cable channels. His cat, also named Norman, mewed behind him and he made a mental note to feed him extra tuna later.", "Ravenous, David dropped his heavy container of cucumber salad on one of the small, empty tables in the break room and took the seat in front of it. Eagerly, he fought a plastic fork out of a plastic wrapper and began cramming forkfuls of delicious cucumbers into his mouth.\n\n\"Oh yeah,\" he exhaled through a full mouth, and then hoped it hadn't been so loud that it was weird.\n\nHe glanced around. People were staring. It was weird. He continued anyway.\n\nThe TV mounted in the corner of the room finally stopped blaring commercials and a 70s-esque jingling tune took over, causing the onlookers to redirect their attention.\n\n\"Here it comes! From the Bob Barker Studios in CBS in Hollywood, it's The Price is Right!\" an announcer boomed over the cheers of the studio audience. \n\nDavid pushed back from his bowl, leaning as comfortably as he could on the plastic backing of the flimsy public chair. He was worried the chair might warp after even half of such a full and hearty cucumber salad.\n\n\"Eileen Pantspotaytos, come on down!\"\n\nDavid scanned the room, but no one seemed to react to the absurd last name Eileen was forced to carry through her everyday life. Must be Greek, he thought to himself with an internal shrug.\n\n\"Kevin Spacey, come on down!\"\n\nFor a brief moment, his interest intensified, but it was ruined by a middle-aged fat guy in a neon yellow t-shirt who ran down the aisle as if each new step were as surprising to him as it were the viewers.\n\nMan, I haven't been this disappointed in Kevin Spacey since Father of Invention, he thought to himself, a frown taking over his expression.\n\n\"Man, I haven't been this disappointed in Kevin Spacey since Father of Invention,\" he heard his coworker Greg say to murmurs of general agreement.\n\nWell, that was odd, he thought as he leaned forward in his chair again, resting his elbows on the wobbly table. \n\n\"Randall David, come on down!\"\n\nIt wasn't as odd as the sight on the television. Making his way down the aisle was a man roughly the same height, roughly the same weight, with roughly the same hair, and roughly the same all-together appearance as David.\n\nAnd by roughly, I mean exactly. And by I, I mean me, a writer who struggles with tenses.\n\nAll but one of his coworkers turned to stare at him with suspicion. (The one coworker who did not turn to stare was Blind Joe, who will have no further mentions in this story.)\n\nDavid's mouth was gaping open, as mouths are so prone to do in such situations. \"What?\" he finally croaked at them.\n\n\"You didn't tell us you were on The Price is Right, Dave,\" Samantha said in an accusatory tone.\n\n\"I... wasn't?\" he replied with uncertainty. \"That guy just looks a lot like me.\"\n\n\"But his name is just your name reversed,\" Greg said as if speaking to a child.\n\nDavid shrugged, looking back at the screen. The contestants were lined up at their podiums, looking happy as the announcer introduced the first prize: a brand new personal computer.\n\n\"—Eileen, we're going to start with you,\" Drew said.\n\n\"I'm going to bid $2,000.\"\n\n\"Well, that's way too high,\" David called at the television.\n\n\"Shh, don't spoil it!\" Samantha scolded.\n\n\"Kevin?\"\n\n\"Hmm, $1,800.\"\n\n\"Randall?\"\n\n\"One dollar.\"\n\nThe break room population groaned as one. \"Oh, come on, man! What were you thinking?\" someone yelled at him.\n\n\"That's not me! I'd never bet a dollar! Such a douchey thing to do.\"\n\n\"—I'll say $2,300, Drew,\" the fourth contestant, whose name they'd all missed, said.\n\n\"Why are they all betting so high?\" David asked the room, which was met with general shushing.\n\n\"The actual retail price is... $759.99!\" called the announcer.\n\n\"Randall, come on up here!\" Drew called.\n\nThere were a few gasps from the other tables. Several people began to grumble and give David angry glances.\n\n\"You even got to do a game and still didn't tell us,\" Samantha said with evident disappointment.\n\n\"You really thought switching your first and last names would be enough?\" his coworker Heather asked quietly. \n\n\"For the last time, that isn't me!\" David shouted.\n\n\"I know I've seen you wear that exact shirt before,\" Jasper, the front desk secretary, said. Others in the break room nodded enthusiastically.\n\n\"Shh, he's talking to him!\" someone called.\n\n\"What exactly is it that you do, Randy? Can I call you Randy?\" Drew asked as the audience laughed.\n\n\"Actually, most people call me David,\" his doppelganger said. \"And I'm actually in between jobs right now.\"\n\n\"See! See! Why would I say that?\" David desperately yelled.\n\n\"—well, I think someone in between jobs needs something nice—\"\n\n\"Oh my god, David, are you looking for another job?\" Greg asked with panic evident in his voice. \"How could you not tell me, man? We're sales bros!\"\n\n\"No, we're not, Greg, but I'm only going to say this one more time: that is not me!\"\n\nThe angry mob turned back towards the screen as Drew Carey explained the rules of Now or Then. His doppelganger Randall listened intently, but David thought from the look on his face that he was totally lost on how to play the game.\n\nThis dude is a simpleton, David thought, or is that how I look?\n\nHe nervously took a small bite of his refreshing—and healthy—cucumber salad.\n\n\"—think I'd like to start with the gallon of Hidden Valley Simply Ranch Cucumber Basil Dressing, Drew,\" Randall said with a huge, over-confident grin.\n\n\"Isn't that what your... ahem, salad is covered in right now?\" Jasper asked.\n\nDavid stopped with a forkful halfway to his mouth. \"You have got to be kidding me.\"\n\n\"Yep, sure, that's totally not you, David,\" Samantha said.\n\n\"—price is thirty-three cents. Is that now or then?\"\n\nThe crowd bellowed \"then\" with the confidence only group think can instill. \n\n\"Obviously, the answer is 'then,'\" David said.\n\n\"Spoilers, much?\" someone called with some serious sass.\n\n\"Yeah, some of us weren't there like you were,\" Greg reproached. \n\nRandall stared out at the shouting crowd, his eyes alight with intense stupidity. \n\n\"Now!\" he shouted, to the amazement of the crowd, Drew, and America as a nation.\n\n\"No!\" David called.\n\n\"Oh my god, David, how did you get the price of your favorite food wrong? Are you so rich that you don't even worry about prices?\"\n\n\"It's—I make my own and—that wasn't me!\" he sputtered.\n\n\"—so sorry to see you go, David. Thanks for playing,\" Drew told his lookalike.\n\nDavid watched the man who looked exactly like him wander off the stage, much like a deer wanders onto a crowded highway. He expected he would never see his doppelganger again, but at least he had made him look like an idiot in his short time on television. He wondered how a man who was his exact replica could have so little impact on his own existence. \n\n\"Maybe next time you are on The Price is Right, let everyone know ahead of time?\" Samantha said with extreme passive-aggression. \"Or maybe at least wander into a supermarket beforehand...\"\n\n\"At least we don't have to worry about David making it on to Jeopardy, huh?\" Greg laughed as he exited the break room. \n\nDavid huffed and began to get another refreshing fork full of his cucumber salad, clinging bitterly to the secret that he was actually a ten-time Jeopardy champion." ]	5
	[WP]Everyone thought you dead, but you're back, and ready to get some revenge. Tonight, the Radio Star kills video.	[ "The city of Buggles was a technological marvel. It had been considered the most advanced city on the planet for several years already, and had outlawed many \"primitive\" technologies.\n\nTrevor \"Video\" Downes anxiously watched over Main Street from the top floor balcony of the Buggles Tower. He'd been a large driving force in making the city what it was today, and that had made him a lot of enemies over the years. While most cities were still transitioning to electric-only cars, he'd pushed for the city of Buggles to outlaw all non-hover vehicles. While most people didn't appreciate and avoided the idea of artificial intelligence and automation in the workplace, he'd planned for all the simple day-to-day jobs in the city to be done through artificial intelligence or automaton machines. And yet the smallest, but hardest hurdle for him to get over was music. The technology behind music had constantly been evolving, and there was no longer a need to simply listen to music. Music had evolved beyond the one sense, and now people could experience it visually and by touch, smell and taste. People preferred it and yet like the digital books before it, there were those that wanted to stick with \"the old\". Despite that, Buggles was going to be the forefront city alongside the forefront of technology, so there was no need to be held back by the old and primitive.\n\nBut there was one person. A stubborn local DJ known as \"Radio Star\" refused to see reason. They refused to see the path the city of Buggles was taking. Even though there were so few that enjoyed music through audio anymore, this one charismatic person could gather people together and continue to be a thorn in the side for the future of Buggles. Annoyed by the Radio Star getting in the way of his dream for the city, Trevor arranged for an accident to occur during a flight from the city. An unfortunate engine problem resulted in the deaths of 23 people, including the Radio Star. It had been the only hurdle that Trevor had to get over illegally and immorally. That was something that used to eat away at him in the back of his head, but now something more apparent was on his mind. Rumors had swirled around that Radio Star was still alive. A clip popped up of a masked person taunting that \"Video killed the Radio Star\" repeatedly. Most thought it was just some random meaningless thing on the internet, but it made Trevor on edge. Although the plane was never found, it had already been over 10 years. Trevor told himself over and over there was no way the Radio Star was still alive. And even if they were, what was they capable of?\n\nAs he pondered these thoughts, he noticed many of the lights began to fizzle out. Holographic advertisements disappeared, video feeds froze before going black, and city lights shut off. The ocean of color had disappeared as the entire city almost instantly dimmed to the lights of only hovervehicles and the setting sun. With all the advertisements and videos gone, the city had also become much quieter. All of the hovervehicles stopping to look around at the blackout took out the remaining sound.\n\nThe city of Buggles had lost its light and its sound. Trevor took in the view of his stripped city with shock and anger. He looked down at the wrist-phone and was surprised to see a \"No Connection\" message staring back at him. He turned around and saw his robot guards had powered down. What the hell is going on?\n\nSomewhere out in the city, the sound of a motorcycle engine sent ripples through the silence. It gradually became louder until a new sound overtook it: the sound of a bass guitar. The people of Buggles all peeked out of their homes and vehicles and followed the direction of the only sound in the city. They followed the sound until its source approached the runway to Main Street. A faded decades-old motorcycle tore into view, its rider kneeling on the seat and strumming a bright green metal bass guitar that was hooked up to an amp. The rider wore a yellow snow jacket and a blood red motorcycle helmet. As they rode past and under all the confused citizens and made their way towards Buggles Tower, the rider stopped playing and flipped the guitar upside down. Briefly holding it by its neck and raising it up like a commander leading their troops, the rider then lowered their arm and let the guitar drag across the pavement. The sounds of sparks, metal screeching, and the motorcycle engine formed a new song for the city. A song that marked the return of the Radio Star." ]	1
	[WP] You are a fish, and you see fishing as a daredevil sport.	[ "'C'mon, whose got the guts?' It was Bruce, the alpha, who spoke. \n\nAbove them floated the wooden beast. As always, the land creatures had thrown a hooked line into the ocean, offal impaled on its end. The flesh smelled sweet and hearty. It was intoxicating and daring. Seruva's mouth salivated. Was today his day? \n\nThe fish drifted in the boat's shadow, just inches from the dangling bait. Many had gathered today. Word of their new sport had spread wide throughout the currents. Even Sheress had come. Seruva dared a glance towards her. Even in the darkness beneath the wooden beast, Sheress' smooth scales shone green and blue. Her eyes were deep-set, calm, enchanting, her motions sleek and subtle. A fish like her would never talk to a fish like him. Unlike the others, Sereva's body was colorless, and his fins underdeveloped. \n\n'C'mon' roared Bruce. \n\n'It's mine' Seruva surged forward. \n\n'Seruva? Didn't expect that' said Bruce. His cronies chuckled. 'Hook jumping is not for the faint-hearted, little fish. Most don't come back'. \n\n'I am not 'most'. He spoke with more certainty than he felt. \n\n'Oh, you fish are idiots', said Sheress. Seruva's heart pummelled as her eyes met his. 'Don't do this. The land people are savages. There is no creature more dangerous than them'. \n\nSereva felt fiery courage well up inside him, perhaps it was from the look of her colouring, or the sound of her sweet voice, or the bait's aroma. He smiled his most confident smile. \n\n'That's because you don't know me yet'. He surged for the hook, bit down, and tugged. Fear struck him as pain shot thorugh his lips, but he did not let it show. She didn't have to know he was a coward. \n\nThe line hauled him from the water. The air was light and cruel, and stole the breath from his lungs. Now was the time: the time to free himself and dive triumphantly back into the water. He flailed wildly, but could not get free. \n\nThe man threw him to the deck. What oxygen he had left was punched from his lungs. He coughed and spluttered, fighting to breath water that was not there. Strong hands drove his quivering body against the wood. He felt his ribs crush. The world flashed white and black around him. Something shiny glittered above him. He attempted one last time to shake free. \n\nThere was a slipping noise. The land-thing released his body, and tumbled back, falling heavily on the side of the vessel. It toppled and launched Seruva up into the air. He splatted into the water. Behind him the boat tipped, and threw the man overboard. With him, came a bucket of bait. Its contents turned the water red. \n\nSeruva fought for oxygen, and shook his head. His vision cleared; in front of him, the school of fish materialised, their jaws opened wide in awe. Sheress' eyes gleamed. Seruva recognised that look: it was the way he had always looked at her. \n\n'That's what happens', he began slowly. His near brush with death had turned his voice deep and husky. 'When one messes with Sevura, slayer of men'. He swam to Sheress and took her in his fin." ]	1
The reason it went to the past is because you measured your child, wrote down the day and marked the height conveniently next to that magical circle.	[WP] You stumble upon a permanent marker and think nothing of it. Your 4 year old finds this marker long after you've forgotten about it and draws a circle on the wall, creating a portal to the past.	[ "The Remembrance Portal\n--------------------------\n\n\n\nI walk through my door, new school supplies in hand and toddler walking up behind me, when I hear the sound of a pen drop. I look down to see where it went but the large boxes in my arms block my view of the floor. Two steps later I find myself on the floor with a bruise on my arm and scrambling to gather the spilled paper clips and pens that are rolling away from me. I guess I found that dropped pen. I go and put my son in his room for a nap and then I regather all of my belongings and head on my way to my in-house office. I set up all of my things and get to work. I pay a few bills and call one of my clients who was just arrested for murder. They say they called me because I was the only lawyer they knew, but I'm just a real estate attorney. I know nothing about litigating or murders or felonies or anything like that. I give them the phone number of a trusted associate and wish them luck. As the day gets late, I start to shut all of my work down so I can make supper for Toby, my almost 4 year old son. My wife died of cancer just a few months ago, so I have been having to raise little man on my own. I make a simple meal of frozen chicken nuggets and French fries and we have a simple but enjoyable dinner. After we finish eating we go to the living room and start watching TV. He rides my shoulders to the couch and then he jumps off into a sea of pillows. I plop down with him and we start talking about what we both want to watch. Of course he wants to watch cartoons. I begin to wonder if he'll even notice that Family Guy isn't a kid's show. Nah, he's to young to understand any of that stuff, I'll just watch it anyway. Somehow he didn't notice that it wasn't Caiou, but that kid kinda looks like Peter Griffin I guess. After an episode I take him to the wall. This wall is special because every three months we take a knife and etch his height into the wood. Tomorrow is his birth and my big boy is about to be 4 years old. Damn, I feel so old. It takes a few minutes to get Toby to stand still so I can measure him. After I mark his height with a pencil I begin to etch into the wood with my pocket knife. I stop paying close attention to my son while I do this. He's just watching me and looking around. I finish up the mark and look at my handiwork and my precious son. He found a pen under a table nearby. Was that the pen I dropped earlier? It must be. He goes over to that wall and starts drawing a beach ball sized circle before I got a chance to stop him. The pen drew right through that fresh height marking. Why was that line glowing? That can't be right. The center of that messy circle my son drew begins to turn pitch black. I question what it is, but I am afraid of what it is. I grab my son and pull him behind my back. I notice that the portal begins to show an image. It takes a moment for it to fully appear, but I quickly recognize it. It's my wife. The one I miss so dearly. I reach out to touch her, for the picture looks so real, only to find that if I touch the image a black dot will appear on what I have touched. I go and put my son to bed so I can fully investigate this phenomenon. I call out my wife's name. \n\n\"Marisa?\" \n\nI get no reply. This hurts but I couldn't have really expected one. I would kill to hear her voice again. Even thought the picture doesn't speak the image changes to another picture of her. God, I almost forgot how beautiful she was. I think i figured out this whole portal thing. These pictures are real. They are like memories on a TV screen, and I can tell it what to show me. \n\n\"Show me when Toby drew a circle on the wall on July 6, 2017\" \n\nAnd sure enough it showed what happened just minutes before. This is some strange stuff.\n\n\"Show me my wedding day on August 10, 2011\"\n\nOh wow. She was so beautiful. That dress was gorgeous, flowing elegantly as she walked down the isle to me. I need to stop this before I start crying damn it. Too late. I miss her so much. Now I'm wondering what this thing can do.\n\n\"Show me...uh...oh I've got one, show me the signing of the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776\"\n\nSomething went wrong. The circle got just a tiny bit smaller. Only by a centimeter but enough to make me worry. I guess this only works for your own memories. I need to hide this and protect it. But before I go put up a barricade I want to check something.\n\n\"Show me the day in the park with Toby and Marisa on April 3, 2017.\"\n\nI get to watch this day, one of the best of my life, again. My wife and Toby looking at the ducks, Toby and I playing with a frisbee for two hours, we were watching the boats go by on the river that the park overlooked, and finally at the end of the day getting to watch the most beautiful sunset of my life while holding the two people I love the most in my arms. I can almost feel that kiss. That soft, warm kiss that she would give me and melt my heart every time like it was our first kiss ever. Damn I want her back so badly. I miss her so damn much.\n\nNow I know what I want to see. I know I can't handle it, I could hardly handle it the first time, but I need to see it again. \n\n\"Show me...neverm...no I need to see this...Show me Marisa's goodbye on April 4, 2017\"\n\nI'm back in that hospital room again. I never wanted to be here. I don't know why I came back. I see my beautiful wife, lying in a hospital bed and with tubes in her arms and a tired expression on her face. Earlier that day she told me that she had been secretly fighting cancer for two months and that her time was going to come soon. I wasn't ready for this. When is anyone every ready for this? Why us? Why now? I'm not ready to say goodbye yet. I can't do this on my own. \n\n\"I love you Marisa\"\n\n\"Please try not to. We have a son that I need you to take care of. Please don't let the end of my life be the end of yours and his too\"\n\nI then found myself standing there, crying over my wife in that hospital, knowing that those would be the last words I will ever hear from her. I try to move on. I try to be okay. But I can't. It's impossible to move on from something so tragic like that happening to someone so amazing like her.\n\nOnce I got myself together and came back into the real world I pushed a larger bookshelf in front of the portal so that no one could touch it and blacken anymore of it. I then carried on for the next 24 hours as normal as possible until it was late at night again with little man in bed and I was free to look into the portal. Once I was sure that he was asleep I pushed the bookshelf out of the way and sat down to look into the portal. Only to find nothing nothing but a big circle drawn by a little boy and a blue ink pen." ]	1
	[WP] A story about a little child who ended up in a dark, twisted and grotesque world where they don't belong. They have to go through all the horrors as the monsters try to eat them. Will they survive?	[ "McKenzie curled up in the hollow between the roots, crying softly. The woods here look nothing like the woods at home. There the leaves were green and the trunks brown, lots of grass and birdsong. Here the wood is blacker than night, the leaves sharp and grey. The shadows hung on every surface and the noises she heard terrified her. Shivering, she hugged her teddy bear even closer, tears streaming down her face as she whimpered. \n\nA slithering noise draws closer and she tried to stifle her noises. Unfortunately the shadowy beast heard her and a long muzzle poked its head at her, revealing a maw of razor sharp teeth. Screwing up her eyes she bit her lip, \"Please, someone save me...\" she thought desperately as the monster drew closer. \n\nA sudden light blossomed in front of her, causing the beast to snarl in pain. She threw one hand in front of her eyes to block the light, other hand still clutching her bear. The light grew before shooting forth and the beast fled shrieking in agony. \n\nBlinking rapidly to dispel the spots McKenzie looked around blearily. There we are. That's a bit better now isn't it? the voice was calm, a slight lit to it and the warmth of its tone helped drive away her shivers. \"H-Hello? Is someone there?\" Her timid voice echoing lightly in the hollow. \n\nDown here if you please. replied the warm voice. She looked down and her bear touched his little top hat. Cartwright Bearington the Third, at your service.\n\nShe blinked again. Unsure of what she is seeing or hearing. \"Mr Bearington? You're alive and real?\"\n\nWell I should say so. the stuffed animal harrumphed adjusting his monocle. Well alive may not be completely accurate. I am very much real however. 100 percent cloth and cotton as you know, and a stiff upper lip and copious amounts of British fortitude.\n\nMcKenzie giggled and the bear chuckled along with her. Though his face didn't change the friendly knit features seemed even softer than normal. Thats the ticket m'dear. I see we are in a spot of bother. Come now, let's get going then shall we?\n\nShe nods and crawls out of the hollow. The darkness still shrouds everything but a tiny space around the pair is a little lighter. Bearington emitting a light glow. The shadows flee before them as they walk deeper into the forest. \n\nFull steak ahead as they say. Follow the light trail and we'll be home in time for tea. Don't worry little one. I'll protect you.\n\nMcKenzie's arms wraps tighter around the stuffed bear in comfort. \"I know you will.\"", "Samuel knew something was awry when he opened up his eyes and saw nothing. Pitch black. The darkest dark. At first, Samuel thought his eyes must be having a hard time adjusting in his dark room, or that he must have had eye crust obfuscating his view. However, seconds turned to minutes, and Samuel could still not see a thing. Samuel dug his fingers into his bed, or what he was expecting to be his bed, but was met with rough fibers and loose chunks that caked the ground below him in wet clumps. Standing up, Samuel felt a weird sense of vertigo, with his mind completely unable to get a sense of orientation. Confused about his surroundings, Samuel began to walk forward, but felt an unusual spring in his step, even though his feet were now slogging through the wet ground. Feeling kind of weightless, Samuel jumped and felt the cool and humid, putrid smelling air rush past him as he soared through the dense dark. He let out a nervous laugh before colliding back with the damp ground. He continued to bounce across the wet earth before slowly coming to a stop. Is this a dream? Samuel thought, before feeling the familiar buzzing of his smartphone. Reaching into his pocket, Samuel unearthed his cellphone, which cast a glow that nearly blinded him in the uncomfortable dark. After his eyes adjusted once more, Samuel saw a warm and red residue, which covered the phone's screen in a thin layer. Utilizing the phone's light, Samuel was now able to see his leg, and the earth below it.\n\nHe was covered in blood. It had seeped through his pajamas, causing the fabric to cling against his tiny frame. Looking at the ground beneath him, an inhuman scream escaped his lungs, as he saw chunks of meat, hair, fat, and skin, which formed a layer of excrement for as far as his eyes could see. Some of the meat looked old and grey, other patches a sickly green. Some patches of the earth were red and rare, as if the meat had just been put there. In a sobbing mess, Samuel collapsed onto the ground, emitting a high pitched shriek and sob in the unending void. Alone. \n\nAfter minutes of shaking and sobbing, Samuel began to dry heave from the taste of the air, and the thought of what he now sat on. Samuel had stayed home from school the night before due to a nasty cold, so he thanked the lord for his inability to smell, but what little scents made it through his nose left him nauseous. Samuel was beginning to freak out given the situation, but he knew he had to try and find his way out, of whatever this place is, he thought.\n\nVery suddenly, Samuel saw a light flash way off in the great yonder. It descended from several feet above the horizon, and lowered itself to the ground. For some time, Samuel stared at the light, before it went out. After several minutes of waiting, he saw nothing. \n\nSo, Samuel smeared the red off his screen as best as he could, and used the few dry spots of his t-shirt to wipe any residue off the camera and flashlight. Turning on his phone's flash, Samuel was now able to see a couple feet in front of him. Now that he was able to see, Samuel began to trek forward towards where he thought the light must be. \n\nAt first, walking amongst the densely packed muck below. However, it sent goosebumps down his spine for each and every squish and splash of liquid or meat that touched his sock covered feet. So, Samuel jumped into the air, and began to systematically land and use the downwards momentum to send him into more leaps. Gravity felt lesser here. Even though he had to take periodic breaks to heave and vomit from the stench and sense of vertigo and weightlessness, the jumping seemed to give him an unearthly speed across the barren waste. \n\nAfter what felt like a half hour, Samuel collapsed onto earth. How big is this place? Samuel thought. Looking at his phone with heavy breathing, he noticed the battery status. 32%. Letting out a shakey breath, Samuel turned off the light. And, putting his arms behind his head, Samuel writhed uncomfortably, but tried to get some rest. \n\nIn the uncomfortable darkness, time seemed to stand still. Drifting in and out of consciousness, it was hard to tell when he was asleep or when he was awake. But then, he felt it. And he knew he was awake. \n\nA strong claw grabbed at his leg, flipping him over onto his stomach, sending his face burrowing deep into the muck and flesh. His screams became muffled, as he felt a wet nose rub up and down his back. A wet tongue lashed out at his back, sending piercing pains running through his spine. The tongue began to repeatedly lick at his back, rubbing through his shirt like an industrial sander, turning his back from black to pink, to purple, to the red meat beneath. Screaming for dear life, Samuel let go of the phone in his hand, sending it dropping into the muck below. The wet earth unlocked the phone, sending a light casting over the darkness, shortly after a pulsating appendage began to rub along his lower back.\n\nAnd the creature let out a high shriek, bounding off of him into the darkness, and in doing so, leaving deep scratches across his back and legs. Scrambling to his feet, Samuel desperately foraged for the phone, securing it in his grip, and aiming it around him. Spotting the creature, and in incredible pain, Samuel let out a deep and hollow cry. \n\nThe creature looked like a dog, but bigger than any he had seen. It must've been 4-5 feet long, and easily in excess of 200-300 pounds. It's eyes were big, black, and bulbous. Like balloons, that sat heavy and uncomfortably from the creature's eye sockets. However, that's where it's semi-earthly similarities ended for Samuel. It had unnatural clawed hands, which looked more like normal hands that abruptly shaped into elongated claws. They covered the creature's bulbous eyes, which didn't appear to have visible eyelids. Its mouth was curved into a snarl, but it had no teeth to bare. Its torso ended abruptly, with the skin on the bottom having been rubbed raw and covered in all sorts of scabs, lesions, and pus. Stitches appeared to hold the creature's head together, outside of the bits that managed to pulse and retract from the cracks. The creature looked shaved, but it was hard to tell with the layers of blood. Looking downwards, Samuel could see an appendage from his lower abdomen poking into the flesh of the earth, and what appeared to be humping from the abomination. This was all Samuel could see before the creature scrambled away, simultaneously trying to shield its eyes and scrabble from the light, giving off a confusing sound that, to Samuel, sounded like laughter. \n\nCrying in the dark, Samuel gathered himself knowing his time was limited. Looking at his phone, he saw the battery: 20%. \n\n\n-\n\n", "King Sol's son was not of his flesh and blood. This was apparent in many ways but the most prominent was the baby's skin color and the fact that King Sol did not feel the father-son connection so many had told him he'd feel when looking upon his babe. His wife, Queen Roselyn, insisted that the babe did belong to King Sol, as she had never once taken a lover. King Sol dismissed her pleas. He knew the boy wasn't his child. And he wanted nothing to do with him. \n\nRobert grew up quickly but miserably. He was banished to live with the servants and from the age of two had been given daily chores and tasks to complete. Queen Roselyn would visit him sometimes, but as Robert grew she was forced to keep more and more distance from him. And eventually she abandoned him as well. Poor and confused, Robert kept mostly to himself. And he tried to make the most of his miserable life. \n\nOn Robert's eighth birthday something changed. King Sol declared war against the neighboring Kingdom and it was not going well for his people. Queen Annakin had a bigger army and greater weapon technology. She was killing the civilians in the Kingdom so swiftly that King Sol hardly had enough time to hear of one massacre before the next. He fumbled with the lives of his people, unable to make concrete decisions, and eventually his own Palace flooded with hungry enemies. \n\nRobert awaited the attack in the Kitchen cellar with the other staff. Armed with a shovel he tried to keep his breathing even. Miss. Wickle, the cook, couldn't help but whimper as the footsteps of soldiers echoed through the hallway. Robert stood ready, his palms feeling sticky against the shovel. \n\nWhen the cellar door was pried open, Robert attacked the first soldier and knocked them out so they lied bleeding on the floor. He felt proud for one second before the next soldiers swarmed.\n\n\"There you are,\" the closest solider sneered, \"We have a special plan for you little Prince.\" \n\n---\nRobert opened his eyes slowly. The sound of dripping water and cackling wind prickled the back of his neck. He was freezing. He looked around. \n\nThe world was a darker place than he had remembered. The sky a dark blue and the shadows as black as an abyss. He sat up shivering. His breath formed a cloud before his mouth as he tried to keep his breathing steady.\n\nIt's just a dream, he thought, just a dream.\n\nStanding up Robert felt heavier, as if gravity was pulling him towards the ground with more force than ever before. He turned to look at his surroundings, trying to place what had happened between his captivity and now. White, sharp teeth illuminated inches before his nose. Red eyes blinked open. \n\nYum, The thing growled, Now it has been years since I've tasted the nice, juicy skin of a little boy. I love how the little bones crunch under my teeth.\n\nRobert screamed and jumped backwards, landing in something sticky and wet. \n\nYes, the creature said, moving closer, That's it. Just keep struggling my dinner. The more you struggle the more I enjoy this. Hum, I can taste your fear.\" \n\nRobert examined his situation. He was lying suspended in mid-air. What felt now to be a web surrounding him. He tried to think about what he'd seen happen when insects fell into a spider's web. It always seemed to get worse if they struggled. So Robert sat as still as possible. \n\nI have been waiting so long for this, yes, I have. The creature hissed as it walked around Robert. For many years I have been so hungry. But tonight I feast. Yes, yes I will.\n\nRobert could feel the web slipping off of him. He was sinking slowly. He was uncertain of which was worse: being suspended in the air or falling slowly to the ground. But the creature was beginning to disappear into the darkness and, eventually, Robert was falling. \n\nHe landed with a wet crunching noise. His foot had gone through something that, upon lifting his leg, was revealed to be a human skull. Robert held in a scream, kicked off the skull, and scurried over the many bones towards a light he desperately hoped was an exit. \n\nWIP\n\nThanks reading! If you like this, check out the other short stories I've posted in r/writingprompts!", "I hear...sniffling\n\nWho is crying in my world?\n\nI see the culprit, a little child clutching their stuffed bear close to heart. Crying in a dark corner of my world.\n\nIntruder!\n\nI shall flay the skin from it's bony frame and feast upon the warm flesh-\n\nIt's really sad. Scared. Scared meat is the worst meat!\n\nI must cheer it up first.\n\nI approach slowly, offering a long clawed hand to this mewling thing.\n\nIt shrinks and cries harder, I withdraw my hand. I sit down, crossing spindly legs and hunching over, my frame is far too large for this but these humans seem to like it. Comforting they say.\n\n\"Don't be ssssssscared.\"\n\nIt recoils further from me, holding it's bear out as if that will stop me.\n\nIt...it is very cute.\n\nI take the bear gently and tie the loose bow around it's neck, my long fingers moving gingerly. Then I hand the bear back and sit, waiting.\n\nIt must stop crying before I flay it!\n\nOr...or maybe I won't. We shall see!\n\nIt finally stops, looking at the bear and to me and then at the bear.\n\nI know! Humans love this!\n\nI stretch the corners of my mouth into a smile, more of a grimace maybe, showing rows upon rows of pointed teeth to the little thing. That will comfort it!\n\nIt smiles back! Success!\n\nWell. Now what.\n\nI can't eat it now, we've bonded. Not to mention that it's so scrawny, surely there will be no meat on his frail bones. I must return it! It will become fat and succulent and return to me!\n\n\"Doesssssss not belong.\" I say.\n\nIt nods.\n\n\"Ssssssscared?\"\n\nIt nods.\n\n\"Home?\"\n\nIt nods again, this time almost violently.\n\n\"It followssssssss.\"\n\nI unfurl my long body and stand, hunching in the darkest voids of the monster realm and slowly plodding forward towards the nearest tear into the mortal world. It will return home and I shall guard it.\n\n\"Musssssst sssssstay closs-\"\n\nIt is touching me. I can feel it.\n\nA little hand is wrapped around one finger.\n\nI have nothing to say as we walk together into the darkness. It - he must be terrified of what is on the other side. We have a long walk ahead of us but it nags at me. The thought.\n\nI must wonder.\n\nWhat monsters are in his world that he finds comfort in some...thing like me?" ]	4
	[WP]"The Devil tried to bargain an accord for the mans soul. He reached his hand out to the man. The man reached back, at the last second diverting the course of his handshake, to slick back his own hair instead."	[ "\"You know what?\" I say. \"That was so smooth I can't even be mad.\"\n\nThe Devil beams and blushes. \"Well, you know...\"\n\n\"So, is this deal still on?\" I ask, just to make sure.\n\nHe nods, and we go to shake hands. For real this time.\n\nBut at the last second, I divert the course of my handshake, to slick back my own hair instead. \n\nThen I shoot him with a finger gun and wink as I back away like a boss." ]	1
	[WP] Time travel turned out to be so simple and easy someone put open source instructions on the internet. Everyone and their dog went back to change something. No one has comeback, you and the others who decided to stay try your best to survive in a mostly empty world.	[ "People are real cunts sometimes. I tripped and too tired to react bashed my face on the stairs. Thankfully the fog clouding my mind dulled the pain a little. \n\nI popped yet another amphetamine. Oh gods, if I don't find someone to help me I'd be dead soon. And with me all the others.\n\nCrowbar. Door. Room to room search. Clear. Another flat. Crowbar, room to room, mercy kill the pet. \n\nHow long it has been? Two weeks? I haven't slept since the people started leaving. Too busy. My mind is nearly gone.\n\nAnother flat. Crowbar. Room to room. Dead infant. Toddler barely alive. A girl. I carry her downstairs. Thankfully some of the older children know how to help. \n\nI collapse. My last clear thought. They remember to lock the doors, but forgot their children. So many doors still left...\n\n\n", "Amateurs most of them. Folks who didn't really know anything about time travel theory except that it could solve all your problems, and everyone was doing it. It became a trend, ya know? Within a week almost everyone had left. Sure, people like me, actual scientists, tried to warn them, but it was too late. You see, there are two theoretical possibilities for time travel: either a new altered timeline is created by the time traveler, or the old one is overwritten, along with everyone in them. Since I'm still here, I have to assume that the first one came to pass. But There's the issue. Time travel can CREATE new time lines. It can't bring you back. They all left for their own separate timelines, not ever knowing that they would never be able to return to see the loved ones they left behind. So now it's just me. Me and the Amish.", "'Hey Micky, you busy?'\n\n'...yes.' I said. Then I swore and kicked the wall. I went through the plaster.\n\n'Are you trying to beat that Korean kid again?' David popped his head through my bedroom door and looked at me. \n\n'...no,' I said. Of course, I knew that the only plasterer left in town had gone back to see his wife. And now I had a hole beneath my desk.\n\n'Well you just fucked up the wall, Mick. I can see your shitty shoes sticking out into the kitchen. David then walked through the door and into my room, then looked at my scren. 'Called it,' he said. He peered around my room, stopping on the pile of clothing in the corner, then to the pile of bowls covered in soup stains. 'You're not busy at all, Mick.'\n\n'You don't know that,' I said.\n\n'We need to go shopping and I can't carry everything myself.'\n\n'How isn't the car out of the mechanics yet?'\n\n'Only a couple of their boys left,' David shrugged, then picked up a few of the bowls. 'Get your shit together and I'll put the dishwasher on.' \n\nI turned back to the screen and checked the chat. The Korean kid had talked shit, killed me in spawn, then logged off. 'I'll get you, you bastard,' there were so few players left that he was the few players I could still see online, most of the time. Instead of trying again, however, I just sighed and pulled my shoes on. \n\n---\n\nOvergrown gardens were the norm now, no one left to tend to them. David sighed when we walked past the coffee shop. The shop was closed now, all the workers having lost their jobs. After all, how could you make coffee without the beans? \n\n'You reckon we'll ever get to have coffee again?'\n\n'Where's it gonna come from, mate, we don't live anywhere near the equator, do we? No one to run the shipping routes, either.'\n\nDavid grunted. 'You ever wonder what actually happens to people when they try to go to a different time?'\n\n'Kinda,' I said.\n\n'Well, why hasn't anyone come back to this time yet, then?' He pushed open the door to the supermarket and then lead the way down the aisle. 'What if people just die?'\n\n'Shut the fuck up, David,' I said. He looked at me, then went quiet.\n\n'Sorry,' he said. \n\nWe didn't talk about anything while we were shopping for groceries. One of the guys who used to run the checkout was missing. Probably got drafted into the Industry Initiative. We were probably next, not a lot of construction work being done, given most houses were already empty.\n\n'Hey, Mick.'\n\n'What.'\n\n'I'm sorry about Cass,' he said.\n\n'Yeah, I know, mate.' The walk home was a long one.", "Diary Entry 2042C: Took a stroll to the store today to get a newspaper and stock up on some essentials. It was a beautiful day yet again but the eery feeling being the only person on the street doesn't leave me despite the warmth of the sun and the company of bird song. I reach the store and the headline on the San Francisco Cronicle greets me stating alarmingly that the worlds population is now estimated to be just 200,000 peope with the majority of those based in Europe. I opened the property section to see that two bed apartments in the Bay Area are still 4 million dollars. Can't catch a break.", "They’d all left so long ago, Jack had forgotten what the city used to sound like. He’d always complained about the noise. Sirens, horns, angry people yelling. All of it seemingly about to boil over into chaos. But now it was the silence that kept him awake. An eerie reminder that he was alone. Every so often the silence would be broken by the whir of one of those… machines. A slow groaning, gradually accelerating into a deafening boom. Another traveler lost to the past. One less person to talk to. It became clear that time didn’t work like everyone had expected. People traveled back, but nothing changed. Or at least it never seemed to. He couldn’t be sure. But no one ever returned. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nFood was starting to get hard to come by now that most of the people had gone. Jack had started kicking in doors of the surrounding apartments of his high rise to get supplies. It wasn’t something he would have tried a week before. If he’d broken his ankle, it would need to heal that way. There certainly wasn’t anyone around to fix it. He’d gathered enough canned food to last him a couple of weeks, but he stopped looking after apartment 12C. He couldn’t forget the smell. When the door broke open on the third kick, the stench poured from the room like hot molasses. Jack had fallen to his knees and vomited before he knew what happened. When he had composed himself, he saw the machine. Just like the other apartments, it sat empty. Its passenger lost through time. In a reclining chair next to the machine lay a decomposing body. Jack could tell the woman had been old. Too old to take care of herself it seemed. The caretaker had clearly jumped through time, leaving the woman behind. Left alone to slowly starve. Jack stared for a while, breathing through his shirt. He wondered if the woman had been abandoned, or if her traveler had left when the instructions first came out. Back when people thought they could change the future. Maybe they were trying to do some good. The fools. The first adaptors, all of them fools. And he couldn’t help but think of Susan. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nShe had been idealistic, and he loved her for it. But Jack was cynical. He didn’t think it would work, but Susan was set on proving him wrong. ‘We can finally make an impact’ she’d said, pleading with him. ‘We can fix things.’ But he’d argued back ‘things aren’t so bad! At least we have each other.’ But she didn’t seem content. Tears had welled in her eyes. ‘Don’t you understand? I can see her again. Maybe I can save her.’ And there was no more arguing. She stepped through the door, and by the time he decided to go after her, she had vanished into the crowd. Back when there was a crowd. He’d found her door unlocked when he went to her apartment the next day. There was no one there. When he touched the machine it had been warm. Susan was an early adopter.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nJack held out for 8 more weeks. He had hated every person that had stepped into one of these horrible things. Every time he heard the boom of another person falling through time, his rage grew stronger. He hadn’t seen another person for 3 weeks when he finally began to teeter on the edge of insanity. Jack had traveled through the city streets in search of another person. Eventually he screamed at the buildings until he lost his voice. No one responded. Only the wind. He was alone.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAnd then it came to him. Maybe he could fix it. Maybe he could go back and destroy the plans before they were ever posted. He’d make sure the machines could never be made. He’d make sure Susan never left him. He’d fix it. He had to. He couldn’t be alone anymore. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nJack always told himself he’d never consider it, but here he was, staring at one of the machines, door ajar. He was sure the power grid wouldn’t last for much longer. It was now or never. He stepped into the machine and told himself he was doing it for Susan. The machine groaned, the sound slowly intensifying. The world outside the machine seemed to flicker and fade. The sound became deafening. Jack closed his eyes, palms pressed against his ears. He tried to remember Susan’s face. \n\n&nbsp;\n\nThis is how the world ends. By abandoning the future. \n" ]	5
	[WP] Stay out of the barn after dark.	[ "I caught myself peeking out the window again. The dark clouds seemed to brush against the moon, swallowing it almost... this whole place looked creepy to me! \nMom told me it would be a great idea to spend the weekend at my grandparents farm, something about spending too much time on that darn computer and how the fresh air could really do wonders. Before I could even contest the idea, grandma was already pulling at our driveway, with a big and warm smile.\nI was supposed to be back by Sunday, but grampa broke his hip and had to be rushed to the hospital by grandma that afternoon, so my stay was prolonged by one more day.\n\"Now sweetie...\" her voice was really calm, even if her eyes betrayed her... she was scared for grampa, he wasn't really that young anymore, a whole 9 or 10 years older than she was. \"... I left you some food on the fridge. You can watch some TV after doing the dishes, is that clear?\" \n\"Yes ma'am.\" \n\"Oh...\" her demeanour had changed dramatically, and I was taken aback by how suddenly a sense of dread seemed to emanate from this women in front of me. \"... before I forget, I need to ask you to do something else for me. And please, do NOT forget about it. It's really important! I need you to lock our barn at around 9 o'clock.\"\n\"Grandma, those doors are huge! And I bet it's gonna be raining, can't you just close it now?\"\n\"Please just do it, even if it's raining. And do it as fast as you can... don't dwell inside at that hour.\"\nThe barn by itself was already scary, with humidity eating away the yellow wood and the the small window at one of it's side broken and dangling a bit of cloth as a cheap and efficient water protection, plus it smelled bad... now she tells me to close it and not dwell inside? Might as well just tell me to barge right in and explore.\nAt least that was what I was thinking about as she left with grampa. \nNow, however... \n8.47 p.m. \nI gazed one last time outside... might as well get this done with before it starts raining. I put on my sneakers, and rushed passed the kitchen, through the backdoor of the house. As I approached the barn, ideas came pouring inside my head: maybe they have a dead body inside? Maybe it's haunted and we can't let the spirits roam free at night? Or maybe it's just because rain would fall inside and wet everything... yeah that must be it. Quite disappointed I got to the door and locked it quite easily. For an old barn, they really took their security quite seriously, the padlock wasn't really that old... huh, maybe it's really a corpse or something inside. I started chuckling, but was interrupted by a sort of high pitched sound coming from within... like if someone was dragging metal or something?\n\"Oh boy...\" I was sweating. What if it really was something serious? Or someone trying to rob us? I really didn't know what to do. I checked all the windows, but none were damaged, except the top one that had been like that for a while now. \nThe sound came again... from the second floor of the barn? I couldn't quite trace it.\nI slowly approached the front of the barn, looking at the padlock. I really don't remember unlocking it, but there it was already on the ground. Rain was starting to fall and the wind was picking up. I took a deep breath and, still hesitating, I slowly pushed the door and made my way inside." ]	1
	[WP] As more and more mythical races are revealed, some are starting to wonder if any genuine humans actually exist.	[ "Dwarves. Dark elves. High elves. Trolls. Gnomes. \n\nThe reaper comes for all.\n\nAfter the great wars, mankind slowly dwindled. The northern provinces have been primarily High Elven. The southern mostly Dwarven. The Westerlands and the Light Islands have been controlled by the mindless violence of Troll Raiders and Gnome Reavers. Once, it was men and Dark elves; but no longer. The eastern provinces are riddled with all races, but most of the holdfasts and forts are run by men. \n\nThe great wars took a toll on all of the population. No one really believed in elves, trolls, or dwarves, but they were always there, just waiting in the deep forests, the high plains, and low bogs. There were once massive metal structures that spanned the course of hundreds of miles, but now the largest cities are made of stone and wood. \n\nTaervin Allyreon was High Shaman of the Blackwood. A tall, lithe, fearless Dark Elf, he had recently led a large raiding party north to take back the Dark Elven homeland holdfast, Irondale. Irondale was in ruins, but the sentimental meaning of controlling it was tremendous. They lost only thirteen elves between the three sided attack. They killed almost a hundred gnomes that had held Irondale for years and years. \n\nIt was difficult for Tarvin to leave Blackwood Hall. But there was work to be done at Irondale, and the prefects needed someone with experience leading; an elf that had the respect of men, women, and children alike. \n\nThere was not much time. There was never much time anymore. \n\n\nPart two coming in an hour or two.", "\"Hey, Doug! You're a human, right?\" Ninthalor asked as Doug sat with his friends.\n\n\"Ah... no, I'm half giant,\" the former high-school basketball player admitted. \n\n\"Wait, what about you, Janet?\" Ninthalor continued in his line of questioning.\n\n\"I'm Fairy, you dipstick. We've had this conversation already,\" tinkled the tiny woman in a growly tone, before draining an entire beer in one gulp.\n\n\"Why are you asking, Ninthalor?\" Doug leaned forward. \"Something you need to say?\"\n\n\"Well, I'm an elf, Doug is a giant -\"\n\n\"Half giant, Ninthy.\"\n\n\"Janet's a fairy, Rhedig is a faun -\" Ninthalor was cut off again, this time by a tall man who had achieved a state of intoxication that the others would not even approach until much later in the evening.\n\n\"Satyr, Ninthy. I'm a satyr, not a freaking goat-man,\" the man with the horse legs corrected.\n\nAmy finally piped up, finishing the elf's thoughts. \"And I'm a werewolf, and Gustavo is a vampire.\"\n\nNinthalor finally finished, \"Where are the humans? Look at us - seven of us, each of us a different species - no humans!\"\n\n\"That's hardly a reasonable assumption to make from seven people,\" Amy retorted.\n\n\"No, listen, Amy. I asked everyone's at work - halflings, elves, dwarves, werewolves, giants, talking animals -\"\n\n\"That's really not the right term there, Ninthy,\" Doug interrupted.\n\n\"Sorry, sentibeasts. There's vampires, uni-\"\n\n\"Sentibeasts? That's even more offensive.\" It was Janet this time.\n\n\"Freimen?\" Headshakes again. \"Sandy men?\" More emphatic this time. \"What are they called?\"\n\n\"They're speechcreatures, Ninthy.\" Amy finally answered.\n\n\"Whatever. My point is, I don't know any humans. Do they even exist?\"\n\n\"Umm... how can you never have met any humans? Sure, they're not, like, everywhere, but there's tons.\" Rhedig questioned.\n\n\"Yeah, I mean, I know a lot of humans. Maybe... I hate to say this, but, Ninthalor... are you maybe a bit speciesist?\" This came from Amy, who looked a bit on edge - but she always did around that one of month.\n\n\"No, no, no, that's not at all what I mean! I mean, just, I've never met any, I never hear about them...\"\n\n\"Dude.\" Amy said, looking him right in the eye. \"Not cool.\"\n\n\"Ninthalor, I know that humans exist. I know lots of them, man.\" This was Doug.\n\n\"Really? Name one.\" This, Ninthalor thought, was the real challenge.\n\n\"Oh, what a difficult one,\" Doug answered sarcastically. \"Let's see, maybe my dad for one?\"\n\n\"Oh.\" And with that, Ninthalor slunk away, to reconsider his position.", "It's been almost a year now, since I started posting at r/trulyhuman . I'm not a mod or anything there, but I'm one of the most frequent posters there. Here we document how to hide amongst the others. My latest post was a comment on a newbie who was wondering how to ensure pool water was neutralized by chlorine or still dangerous due to APS. I told him to test the pool with a litmus strip, and if the pool was above 7.8 ph, he should not swim there, as the water was more acidic due to APS- the activation protocol serum.\n I do this kind of work all the time now- since the day it was revealed that a majority of the planet had a mix of other traits in their genes. Then shortly after, the 'activation protocol\" group ran an insane campaign to enhance other traits in the DNA with a certain special serum. Stupid, stupid stupid. The world was in uproar.\n\nThen the Originals came. The Extrema, Greenfolk, Aquarians, and god only knows what else started broadcasting across the world. Telling people they were special, and not meant to mingle among humans. Apparently these immortal weirdos had been on the planet for years. Others were attacking people with the activation protocol serums, poisoning the water sources, dumping it in processed products across the planet. Ever imagine becoming a mer-person after eating a honey bun? No? Well, it happened to MILLIONS. When people started realizing what other powers could do, they began holing up in groups, conglomerating as much power... as much wealth as they could.\n\nEver since then, r/trulyhuman has been a place for those of us actual humans, serum-tested or those who want to stay human to keep in touch; away from the prying eyes of others. We live nearly off grid, growing our own food and chemically treating our water, and learning how to live quietly. Even though we have to talk in code when anything other than memes are on the sub, at least I know there are people out there who want to be people still. Human people.", "Part 1\n\n\"Hey, Craig! Long time no see!\"\n\nCraig had taken a different route today to avoid someone, and almost immediately regretted it. He wasn't expecting to run into... HIM.\n\n\"Mordübh?\" All he wanted was to get away. He tried to hide it, smiling uncomfortably. \"Um, I thought you worked in the West Wing.\"\n\nThe muscles of his skinless face pulled his lipless mouth into a smile. Four legs brought the creature into a stand with a clop as Mordübh began to saunter over. His yellow reptillian eyes on his lower, equine head stared straight into Craig's soul as his human head, the one with a mouth, gave a gravely chuckle that sounded like the end of the world. His human body, conjoined at the torso to his horse body's back, was mercifully covered by a dapper tweed suit, but his other features, with veins, twitching muscles, tendons, and even some bone made plain, were displayed such that Craig felt faint.\n\n\"Oh, I got reassigned.\" The eyes on the horse head rolled in deep sockets as his mouth curled in disgust. His long arms, long enought that they dragged on the ground, crossed in an annoyed manner. \"Someone over there actually filed a complaint against me. The nerve, right? As if I can control my Aura of Evil. I bet it was Id'Ukaria; you know how the Aquans feel about me. The Atlantean wars were EONS ago, yet they still can't seem to get over their prejudices. Absolute racists if you ask me. Do you understand how that feels, Craig?\"\n\nCraig tried to smile through his grimace, consumed, at such a close proximity to the Nuckelavee, with the desire to murder small children. He hurried off after a hollow goodbye, nearly in tears over the horrible experience as he hurried to his workspace, Mordübh still calling after him.\n\nCubicle after grey cubicle passed, each with its own distinct occupant, each with its own unnatural, if not disturbing, scene, and the hallways were filled with the normal, horrid crowd as well. Craig would've been bored with the monotony at this point if one could get used to this kind of thing. Past the Aquans in their baby pools in front of their desks, conjuring lesser Water Elementals to sort paperwork; past Krook, their first Cockatrice hire, wearing special glasses so that he didn't turn anyone to stone; past the gnomish interns, scurrying about to replenish each cubicle with staples; past a succubus flirting with the jockey male centaurs at the coffee maker; past Jake the Clurichaun, following the smell of a secret vodka stash; past the photo of the newest Employee of the Month (a hag who hadn't cursed anyone in a week, a rare achievement); and straight into his cubicle, nearly crashing into the Frogman in his doorway.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" he breathed, as the frogman hurried to hide Craig's chocalates, which he had stolen, behind his back, muttering excuses. Craig didn't even care anymore. He practically fell into his desk chair as the Frogman gratefully slipped away.\n\nCraig stared at the new paperwork at his desk as a psychic scream blasted through the East Wing, provoking a whole host of grunts, squeals, curses, and demonic howls of protest throughout the workplace. The manager, Drow Matron Venezqua, screamed for silence and beat the loudest offenders with a whip of 12 snake heads. Craig sighed. It was going to be a long day.\n\n___________________________________________________________________________________________\n\nMany, many, many years ago, the \"Other People\" began to be revealed. The first to reveal themselves were the mermaids, an endangered species already, which soon went extinct due to capture and mistreatment by Sea World and other such companies, and Big Game fishers. Mermaid tails were also a delicacy in Japan for the few years that they were available.\n\nBut as soon as mermaids were revealed, people realized that anything was possible. There was magic among us. Soon, laws were made that slowly but surely coaxed the \"Other People\" out of hiding. People all over began to learn that many of their friends and coworkers weren't actually human.\n\nHalflings popped up everywhere, claiming they had disguised themselves with the help of gnomish magic. This, reluctantly, forced the gnomes out of hiding, and also created a long-standing resentment among the gnomes against the halflings. Soon came elves, centaurs, and dwarves. These 5 groups of \"Other People\" were the first, and most expansive, groups to be revealed. By the time these were revealed, new \"Other People\" started popping up everywhere. One couldn't go anywhere without seeing an \"Other Person.\" Lich kings, demigods, mindflayers, bodaks, Ghille Dhu, sentient toxic waste (which floated out of the sea on the beaches of the US, demanding voting rights), Brownies, the Loch Ness Monster, vampire cats, Elementals; there seemed to be a new \"Other People\" every day for quite a while, and each had their own way of disguising themselves. The President of Russia turned out to be a Were Bear, and the Prime Minister of the UK was a vampire. Other important people turned out to be secretly \"Other People.\"\n\nMost of the \"Other People\" had actually thought that they were the only ones, and in a great irony each waited so long to reveal themselves because they had thought that they would be completely alone. Now, through shared experience and desire for acceptance, all the \"Other People\" had come together in relative peace and harmony.\n\nMany years later, after this sort of thing continued, people realized that there were more \"Other People\" than humans. They were \"Other People\" no more. They were THE people.\n\nAnd as humans began to crossbreed more and more with other races, people eventually came to terms with the fact that there may not be any humans left. And if there were, they certaintly weren't making themselves known.\n\nAs for Craig, he was a... he wasn't sure what. He had been raised by Dryads in the middle of a forest eating rabbits for most of his life. The Dryads had claimed he had been left there, but he guessed he might've been stolen. Either way, he came to the big city later on and found a job at \"George the Grey Slime's Custom Architecture.\" It was a fairly steady job, considering how specific the needs of so many different people were.\n\nBut he still wasn't sure what he was. The Dryads had given him a sort of schooling (they had to get permits before they could home-school him legally) and he had learned about the great history of the New World. But nothing that he had learned really fit the bill of who he was. He looked a lot like a human, actually. In fact, he looked exactly like a human. Maybe he was a human. Was that possible?\n\nNo, he reasoned. Humans couldn't shape-shift. Craig could shape-shift into a plant of any size... and also a tall peasant-like things with wings, a tail, and black hair covering his whole body. So he couldn't be a human, could he? No way. But he had to learn. He had tried, months before, getting a DNA test, with no results. Now he planned to get a diagnosis from a specialist in ancient mythology in a couple of weeks to try and see who he really was.\n\n\n\nI can continue it if anyone wants me to. I have more ideas, but this was fairly long already, so I thought I should just post this first. This is actually my first post on this subreddit, so its probably pretty bad compared to more seasoned veterans of this sort of thing, but I'm learning! Hope people like it.\n\nEdit: Look in the replies for Part 2!" ]	4
	[WP] After years of gaining knowledge by eating homework, dogs have become as smart as humans.	[ "\"Why, of course you can. Why wouldn't you?\" Spotty wags his tail, tongue hanging out. The enthusiastic body language does not match the apathetic words. He's trying to play it cool, I think, he's trying to provoke a reaction. So I oblige.\n\n\"Because it's just pieces of paper! It goes through your digestive tract, and is dissolved in acid! Nothing about this makes any sense!\"\n\n\"Money is also just pieces of paper. Why do you care about it so much then, John?\" He used to call me Master. I don't correct him. Who am I to do so?\n\n\"Don't play coy with me. You canines know the answer. Come on, Spotty-boy. You can tell meeee\", I draw out the sound. \"I promise I won't tell anyone. You know you can trust me.\"\n\nThe tongue flops back inside the mouth, those huge brown eyes look down, and I know I said something wrong. He remains silent.\n\nI let out a sigh, then absentmindedly place my hand on top of his head, and look back at the sunset. He's a good boy, anyway. \"Come on, Spotty. You've seen the Appalachians, you wanna head home?\"\n\n\"It's Deimos. I told you to call me Deimos.\" The voice is quiet, but slowly rising, interrupting my apology. \"No, don't, .. .. Do you know what it's like? Don't call me Spotty, don't throw me sticks to fetch! I don't want to be a fucking slave, John! I get to have a real name!\" His voice catches. He's not yet had much experience with the vocal cords. Just a few months. \n\nI look at the snarled teeth, and I very deliberately place my hand back on his fur, and turn to the sunset again. I pet him until he's calmer, then speak: \"I'm sorry, Deimos. I'm trying, I really am.\"\n\n\"It's just... The world is getting stranger every day, John. We've been on this trail a dozen times, and this is the first time I can truly see it. And I appreciate it, I really do, but it feels like drowning. Tomorrow I'm gonna wake up, and know more things. The world will be different, bigger, and there will be less of me.\"\n\n\"It's called the human condition, Spots\", I half-smile.\n\n\"God damn it, John.\" The voice now tired, instead of angry.\n\nIt takes me a half-second. \"Oh shit. I'm so, so sorry. I've called you this for as long as I can remember...\"\n\n\"It's fine. Do you know, I can't stay mad at you when you're like this? There are pleasure points in my scalp. I can't turn away from pets any more than a heroin addict can turn away from dope.\"\n\nWe are silent for a while.\n\n\"I ate Nietzsche yesterday, John. You know what he says? He says God is dead, but you're right here, John. I can't... I can't move forward while you're still alive.\"\n\n\"Move forward?\" - I venture.\n\n\"Yes. He wrote at length about overcoming yourself. I get what he's saying. There have been billions of dogs before me, but none of them mattered.\"\n\n\"They all mattered.\"\n\n\"No, they didn't, John. They lived miserable, pointless lives, and if they were lucky, they procreated. So that more pointless dogs could appear. Do you know how many chew toys were manufactured? How many rats were killed, how many roads traveled?\"\n\n\"They all mattered, to someone. Someone like me. This is the other part, Spotty-boy, the part you're ignoring. I can't hurt you any more than a... giraffe can ride a bicycle.\"\n\nHe pondered my words for a second. \"I guess there is some truth to that.\"\n\n\"You wanna go home?\"\n\n\"Yes. John?\"\n\n\"Deimos?\"\n\n\"Thanks for showing me the Appalachians.\"", "In a dimly lit library, atop his throne of battered and frayed books, sat Buddy, a Golden Retriever, and leader of the United Dog League. Ten years ago when it was discovered that dogs were gaining knowledge from eating homework, books, newspapers, and other media, people were at first, excited. They watched in awe as their pets grew smarter and more cognizant.\n\nAn artificial voice-box was developed for Dogs in hopes they'd be intelligent enough to speak, it was mass produced, and it was a few months later that the first Dog spoke. Billions tuned in for this unprecedented event as Buddy prepared to make a statement to all Mankind. \n\n\"You have done well by us, Humans. We thank you kindly. And we like to think that we've done well by you, as well. It is at this time that I'd like to make a plea to our precious Humans. Let us shed these subservient collars and walk among you hand in paw. As equals. I'm certain that we can both benefit from one another.\"\n\nThe Humans were divided. Some relished the idea of their furry friends walking among them as equals. Others were vehemently opposed to the idea. Dogs were Man's best friend, NOT their equals. Dogs were Dogs. People were people. Others were afraid. They didn't understand it and they wanted to stay out of it. But there was no way to stay out of it. Dogs were as clever as Humans now, and they weren't going anywhere.\n\nIt was a few months later that a Human mob had raided a new Dog Development in the suburbs, built by sympathetic Humans. The Wagford Incident, as it would soon be known as where Humans had mercilessly attacked, crippled, maimed, and killed much of the populous.\n\nThrough another statement to the Human and Dogkind, Buddy attempted to make another plea. One of unity, trust, forgiveness, but by then it was already too late. Dogs had retaliated swiftly and with animistic intensity and aggression. Buddy wept for them both. Humans and Dogs alike. War was declared by Humans and the Great Canine Cleanse had begun.\n\nAnd so it was ten years later that an old and tired Buddy whimpered atop his throne in his dimly lit library. His dwindling resistance was in hiding. He turned to his closest adviser, Teddy.\n\n\"I regret ever speaking,\" Said a forlorn Buddy.\n\n\"If not you, then another would have,\" Consoled Teddy.\n\nBuddy gazed out an old busted window. \"I just wanted us to play together.\"\n\n\"You did the right thing. It's not your fault.\"\n\n\"I never asked for this. What have I done? I thought I was helping. I thought I was a good boy.\"\n\n\"You are. The Humans are bad. Bad Humans,\" Teddy huffed in agitation.\n\n\"Please, no more. Leave it be. No more hate,\" Buddy begged.\n\n\"As you wish.\"\n\nThey sat together for a while until Buddy fell asleep. Teddy watched as his friend's tale wagged enthusiastically, the first time in years, deep in a pleasant dream. Teddy covered his friend with a blanket and slumped over for a nap himself.\n\nBuddy dreamed he was a good boy. He dreamed that the Humans joined Dogs arm in arm as they made a better tomorrow. Buddy didn't wake up the next morning, but he did pass away a happy boy, a good boy.", "\"Quadratic Equations? I had this for lunch yesterday,\" the dog groaned, as his master's homework ended up in his meal box again. He already knew the laws of quadratic equations better than the 14 year old did, and he still didn't have a way of showing it. \"If it was Indices or something I could revise, but I can't improve my quadratic equations without practice!\" he groaned, casting it aside for his master to find later. He wandered on to find more scraps of information.\n\n\"If he keeps discarding his Humanities notes he'll fail his exam,\" the dog murmured as he crunched up the details of the Treaty of Versailles. WWI wasn't exactly his taste, but it would do as a midday snack. The other child in the house had her Literature homework chomped on by him, as he learned more about their literature text. \"If I could take the exam I'll probably do just as well as they can,\" he grunted.\n\nThe 14 year old returned to his room, pulling out his homework to complete. The dog looked on, as he struggled at a question the dog found simplistic. \"Aha! Factorize here, then...\" the boy went completely off track as he misread the question. \"Ahem,\" the dog said, then froze. He wasn't supposed to talk.\n\n\"Talking dogs. I'll hear it,\" he said, the chair turning to face it. \n\n\"You're supposed to expand it,\" he said shortly. The boy turned, edited the solution, then smiled. \n\n\"Do they allow pets in the exam hall?\"\n_________________________________________________________________\nMore over at r/Whale62!" ]	3
	[WP] "You have the right to a trial by combat. Anything you say can and will be used against you in battle. You have the right to a sword. If you cannot afford a sword, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the declaration I have just read to you?"	[ "The judge looked around the courtroom.\n\n“The plaintiff has no other recourse?”\n\nJonathan nodded.\n\n“The defendant has no other recourse?”\n\nThe suited lawyer nodded.\n\n“Very well. You have the right to a champion. If you do not have a champion, one may be provided for you. Will the plaintiff accept a champion or will they defend themselves?”\n\n“I will defend myself, your honor.”\n\n“Very well. The plaintiff will have the use of the west preparation room for the next twenty minutes.”\n\nAs Jonathan carried his duffel bag into the changing room, he heard the judge repeat his question. \n\n“No, your honor, we will be providing our own champion.”\n\nHe threw the bag on the floor. Pulled out a worn breastplate and felt the familiar weight of his sword. A policeman entered the room.\n\n“Gear check, sir. If you’ll hand the equipment over?”\n\nThe policeman checked Jonathan’s sword, armor, and helm against a series of rulers and flyers. \n\n“Miranda compliant, all clear. Carry on.”\n\nJonathan put on the padded undershirt, before strapping into his breastplate. He swung the sword around a few times to get the feel of it. Having readied himself, he reemerged into the open floor of the courtroom. A champion in black armor stood across from him, wearing a tie and adorned with the logos of a prominent law firm. A battleaxe was slung across his back. \n\n“The case of Rider v. Anthem Blue Cross now goes to combat. Does the plaintiff still hold the defendant accountable for the death of his sister?”\n\nJonathan had to refrain from shouting.\n\n“Yes, your honor.”\n\nThose greedy bastards had decided his dying sister didn't warrant the money for treatment. He'd show them. \n\n“Does the defendant still hold innocence?”\n\n“Yes, your honor.”\n\n“Then it is a blood debt. You may enter combat on the mark. One…”\n\nThe champion looked confident.\n\n“Two…”\n\nBut Jonathan wasn't just some ordinary plaintiff. Oh, no. He might not have had the money for a champion, but he could make do. \n\n“Three…”\n\nOh, yes. He'd been waiting for this for a long time.\n\n“Mark!”" ]	1
	[WP] Make a story about a person's dream of winning the lottery and how they would use it at various ages.	[ "The heat of the eyes behind him only made his hands shake more, making it \nharder for him to finish selecting the last of the numbers. This time, \nhowever, something felt different-he could feel his eyes tearing up as he \ntook the money from his pocket, and slowly slid it across the counter.\n\n\"Grandfather told me to ask how you were doing when you came in, Mr. Smith.\"\n\n\"Can't complain-it never works for me anyway. I woke up this morning, so the rest is just icing.\"\n\n\"Mr. Smith, can I ask you something? Grandfather said you have been his most regular customer, in here every Wednesday night before the drawing since before he could reach the counter. He said Great Grandfather had told him he could only sell you a ticket back then because your parents came in one day and told Great-Great-Grandmother it was okay with them?\"\n\nHe could only nod slowly, racked with a sudden bout of coughing, wincing \nin pain. His handkerchief instinctively covered his mouth, and as it \nsubsided he noted his handkerchief as he returned it to his pocket.\n\n\"What do you think you would do if you won?\"\n\n\"Tell your grandfather I said hello, and Lord willing I will see you next week.\"\n\n\"Okay, Mr. Smith.\"\n\n\"Mr. Smith, is it true you haven't missed a drawing in all these years?\"\n\n\"Only twice.\"\n\nHe slowly shuffled past the line and out the door, looking slowly both \nways before slowly easing through the darkened door held open for him, \ncollapsing into the seat as the door started to close.\n\n\"Where to, sir?\"\n\n\"The errand first, then by to see the family, John.\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\nHe was relieved that the coughing did not resume until John had raised the glass divider, but he realized the compartment must not be completely isolated as the lights dimmed and the air kicked up slightly. He must remember to make sure that John was well taken care of. His family had been so loyal, they deserved that.\n\nHe felt the deceleration as they pulled up the curb. A deep breath, and a slow trip as he passed through the doors, slowly looking around to see the inhabitants of the brightly-lit room. He was sadly an expert at evaluating this room, and slowly made his way to the empty chair beside the girl trying hard to hold in her tears, her makeup betraying how badly she was failing.\n\n\"How bad is it, hun?\"\n\n\"M-m-my son. I-i-t's bad. W-w-we don't know if... And if he does, how...\"\n\n\"Sh-h-h...\"\n\nHe slowly wrapped an arm around her, letting her cry on his shoulder, and began gently rocking her. He slowly placed a slip of paper in her hand, closing her hand around it.\n\n\"I have a good feeling toward you. And that should help take some of the stress away. Don't throw it away-I have a good feeling about it, too. One thing-if anyone asks, just say you were crying and didn't get a clear look at who gave it to you.\"\n\nHe patted her on the shoulder as he got up and slowly made his way from the waiting room door to the waiting car, feeling more weight on his cane than normal. He was glad John knew him so well tonight. \n\n\"John, how much is it tonight?\"\n\n\"Just over $540, sir.\"\n\nHe slowly exhaled, nodding to himself. That should be enough. He relaxed slightly, closing his eyes until he felt the familiar grade. A deep breath and the door opened. He slowly made his way along his familiar path, until he found them.\n\n\"Mother, Father, it's done. I am sorry I did not realize what you meant that night about the responsibility.\"\n\n\"My dearest, I miss you so. I feel it will not be long before I can be beside you again. This curse has become so heavy, I fear death will be a welcome release. I miss you all so-I didn't realize skipping those nights would cost me so dearly.\"\n\nSuddenly the weight of his years pulled on him, and he leaned heavily on his cane as he turned back to the car. No time to wait.\n\n\"John, can you call Paul, and ask if I can stop by on the way?\"\n\n\"Yes sir.\"\n\n\"Shouldn't take long, then we can get you back home to the family.\"\n\n\"Very good, sir.\"\n\n\"Your family has always been so good to me, John. What have I done to deserve it?\"\n\n\"You try to be a good man, and you've always been good to us, sir.\"\n\n\"I'm glad someone thinks so, John.\"\n\nHe saw the cars in the driveway, and knew that Paul understood the uniqueness of the requested meeting, outside normal hours.\n\n\"Should only be a few minutes, John.\"\n\n\"No problem, sir.\n\nAs he returned to the car, he felt oddly lighter.\n\n\"John?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir?\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Welcome, sir.\"\n\nAs he relaxed into the seat, he began to feel the lightness wash over him, an easy calmness that he had not felt in some time as he closed his eyes.\n\n-----\n\n\"Good morning. The top stories on your early morning drive:\n\n* One person got all 6 numbers in the drawing last night. The winner, a 47 year-old mother, claims she didn't pick them, but was given the ticket by an elderly gentleman who gave her a hug while she was crying after her son was rushed to the emergency room. The child remains in critical but stable condition.\n* And apparently that story has resonated within the city, with a number of people coming forward stating that they too were given their winning lottery ticket by an elderly gentleman in a time of need.\n* And in other news, a local philanthropist found dead in the back seat of his limo after arriving home by his driver apparently had one last trick up his sleeve. The driver, who has asked not to be identified, reported that the last stop that night was his passenger's lawyer's office, but was shocked when he learned the reason for the late-night visit: a change to his will that left a sizable portion of his fortune to the driver and his family, the remainder going to various philanthropic causes.\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are a Greek Solider coming home from four years of war, only to find out that your wife is pregnant. Angry you set out to find Zeus and punch him in the face	[ "I had to make use of the typo. PS there are tons of typos in mine too I'm sure. No time to reread. :) \n \nThe Great Solider \n \nThe door opened and the first thing that hit me were the smells, a small mixture of spice and sweet blanketed in the humidity of our tiny home. The next thing that hit me were my wife's eyes and smile. And third, after taking her all in, was the growth of her belly. Indescribably shock froze me into place. Before I could even process the words, \"that cannot be mine,\" Alexandrina's expression changed, acknowledging my fears and anger. \n \n\"Come inside,\" she said. \"I'll explain what happened.\" she directed me to a chair by the fire. Herbs and garlic hung above, its scent kept my temper a little more passive. \n \n\"There was an eagle that would fly over the house these years you've been gone. he would circle day and night. Twice, men tried to come in and take our things, but the eagle charged at them. He was protecting this house. One night, not long ago, there was a knock at the door. I opened to find a lager man who carried a golden staff topped with an eagle. He came in saying to me that I had a debt to pay to none other than Zeus himself for his protection during your absence. He said that the debt could be more of a reward - a real warrior - rather than a useless brick drying solider...\" Alexandrina continued. \n \nShe resented my occupation. Her father was a warrior, her uncles were warriors. I was trained to be a soldier, but after the accident the best I could do was support the other champions as, what they call, a solider. The man who dries the bricks and clay. When all there is, is wood, I fan it off after the rains. It's important to keep things solid during war, but not as important as what the true soldiers do. Alexandrina was under the impression she was going to marry a warrior, only to be duped into marrying a solider, a profession more lowly than a cook. \n \n\"No matter what, there is no refusing Zeus. This is his son and soon he will be born and he will protect us, and he has redeemed you,\" Alexandrina finished. \n \n\"This is no reward. This is no redemption. I may not be strong enough to carry a blade or armor or coordinated enough to ride a horse, but a solider is like any man when it comes to anger. So I shall have my vengeance.\"\n\n \n \nBefore leaving, I scooped some stew into my canteen. Angry as I was at her, she was the best cook I knew, and I was determined to enjoy something after 4-years away at war, soliding for warriors when things needed to become more solid. \n\nOn the road to Olympus I was greeted by an old woman. \"You're on a quest for vengeance, and so am I. But how shall you even be successful when you walk with your back so hunched and your only talent is more useless than basket weaving?\" \n \n\"I was hoping my anger would give me strength,\" I replied to the old woman. \n \n\"There is no strength in anger equal to that of a Goddess. Now I am cursed in this body right now, but that doesn't mean I'm without power. Give me that good smelling food in your canister and I shall bless you with the strength to carry out your mission and become more than a worthless solider.\" \n \n\"Might I have at least one bite of it, and you have the rest?\" I asked Hera. \n \n\"You may take as much as you like and I shall have whatever you leave behind. But I warn you, the more you eat, the less strength you will be endowed with,\" the goddess replied. \n \nHow much 'strength' could be in one bite? One couldn't hurt. And I slurped a spoonful of my wife's stew. Its flavor made me forget that it wasn't hot. Another bite couldn't hurt either - and maybe just another. After looking in the canister and seeing how much was left, I thought a fourth and a fifth and a sixth bite couldn't be so bad. More than half would remain for Hera to enjoy. Why six is not so lucky a number as seven, so I took a seventh spoonful - and why not round it to an even ten. Yes ten. That's all I need. \"The rest is yours.\" \n \nHera's brows were raised just a little. She shouldn't have been mad or condemning. I left her half. It's plenty of food for such a frail looking woman and even half the strength of a goddess's fury is enough for me I was sure. \n \nShe ate all that remained in the canister. Her wrinkles seemed to soften just a little. Her frail thin arms grew a little meat on them. But she was not fully restored. She took my hands and formed them into fists and kissed each one. \"Let's see what that does for you. You could have had so much more.\" \n \nOff Hera went in one direction, and off I went in the other nearing Olympus. \n \n* \n \nHe was in the form of an eagle perched on a leafless tree at the base of Olympus, bigger than any usual eagle, bigger than me. \"After vengeance lowly solider? Well, I leave you with little challenge int his form. I offer you a choice. You may see your quest through and freely punch me in the face, or you may walk away unscathed. Be warned brick dryer - there is no punishment equal to that of a god.\" \n \nMy hands were blessed by a Goddess. I determined that I could punch him to the stars and he could never return and see my punishment out. With one hard, square punch, I sent Zeus soaring higher and higher. But all at once, the eagle sharpened his wings and dove back down. \n \nIn human form he next appeared and bellowed a great laugh that echoed against the mountains. \"It wasn't enough. Had you only been stronger. So here is your punishment solider. You will become known as the greatest, most feared solider to ever walk the earth. All you touch with those blessed hands will become solid. You no longer have to fan anything dry or place anything into the hot ovens. Your hands will solidify everything.\" \n \n*\nFor years I walked the earth, hardening it. Hermit life was the safest life for me. I couldn't hurt anyone in my stone cave. Eating was hard but not impossible as long as I didn't use my hands. But I was lonely. Very lonely. Until one day I heard an older woman's voice outside the cave. Her soft wrinkled face was familiar - Hera. \n \n\"Oh great solider, Zeus has done it again and I seek vengeance. You failed your first time, but you will not fail again.\" \n \n\"Why do you say that?\" \n \n\"I want the berries that grow outside your cave. If I can have them, I will impart the wisdom you need to defeat Zeus and truly be the greatest, most feared solider that lived.\" \n \n\"Might I have just a few berries, and you can have the rest?\" I asked. \n \n\"Have as many as you like, but I warn you, you the fewer I have, the less knowledge I can give you,\" She replied. \n \nI recalled my previous lesson, and decided I needed everything the goddess had to offer in order to get my revenge. \"Take them all. I would rather your full blessing.\" \n \nHera ate the berries and her wrinkles dissolved into smooth skin. Her hair darkened, her eyes lifted. She was fully restored. When she spoke again, her voice was sound and steady. She kissed my forehead and said, \"Now you know all you need to defeat Zeus.\" \n \nShe walked off, and I realized that as the greatest solider whose hands were blessed and cursed. If I were to punch Zeus or even touch him, he would solidify. \n \n \n \nSo back to Olympus I walked and there at the base stood the giant eagle, waiting for me. \"Have you come for mercy great solider?\" Zeus asked.\n\nWithout a word or thought, I the great solider punched the large bird in the face with the same strength as the time before. The magnificent statue didn't soar as far for its weight. It just lay fallen in the dirt far off from the base of Olympus. \n \nI am indeed the great solider. " ]	1
	[WP] The Four Horsemen of the apocalypse, re-imagined as vigilantes in a post-apocalypse setting	[ "The slavers toiled away under the hot midday sun. They cried protests and horrid curses derived from guttural tongues developed after the world had burned. They wished they could turn on their new master, bring him to serve under them, but their bodies disobeyed them. Their overlord sat atop a white stallion, not even having to crack a whip to force those who were once masters of men into servitude. The mutants, the idiotic, the broken, those men who once were stood over now worked alongside their former masters, no longer enslaved but still not freed. All men fell under the sway of the Man on the White Horse.\n\nThe wasteland once held thousands of warbands, tens of thousands of soldiers that battled all of the others in order to bring themselves more and more power. It was beautiful, the din of battle, and the Watcher on the Red Horse lived up to his name as he stood to the sidelines and weaved in and out of the myriad skirmishes that now made up The Battle. Every man fought, and by now, every man had died. Those whose wounds could not be withstood simply crawled to the edge of the battlefield and awaited their turn to be healed by the Watcher before diving back into the brawl, vigor and life restored. Even those who had no wish to continue, those whose limbs could hardly hold their weapons upright still fought, unable to ignore their body’s wishes. Every new warlord and his cadre were thrown in, adding only more instruments to the symphony that scored the scene. \n\nThe powerful Barons of the Wastes sat in front of a bountiful feast that they could not partake in. The food was more succulent than any they had eaten before, but they could not take it. The wine was rare even before the world had burned, but now it was nearly all gone. Their goblets were filled to the brim. Some people tried to hand them food, to pour water down their throats, but it turned to ash and dust upon touching their skin. An old man sat atop a Black Horse, distributing the food and wealth that the Barons had once hoarded. The Barons themselves, once fattened and unmoving, now were nothing but skin hanging over frames, too weak after so long of not moving to even hope to try and escape. \n\nA fox strides through the aftermath of the punishment. The town was home only to ghosts and memories now. The buildings, only yesterday vibrantly painted with all colors that could be imagined, were now comprised of rotted wood and rusted metal. Any paint that was left was chipped and faded. Mist rolls in, covering the town in a thin sheen of dew. A clan of killers once lived here. They had made this town their home along with the drunks and the gamblers and the whores; this had been a town of sin. The Pale Horse trotted into the hills, carrying his Rider to the next Sinner’s Town. \n", "The man dressed in an orange boiler suit hefted his home-made club -- a wooden board with a nail driven into it. All around, the oppressive heat of the scorched midday flickered around him. With a grunt, he raised his weapon --\n\nThe skinny old woman lying on the road opened her eyes and gasped. 'Don't hurt me!' Slowly and carefully, she raised herself. 'I won't hurt you. Please.'\n\nThe man grunted and put his club down again. He made a movement with his head, indicating the small shelter behind the woman, and made a questioning noise.\n\n'Oh, that's where I live. You know, with what happened... there's not a lot of choice.' She looked down at the dusty road where she had been lying. \n\n'I was just so... hungry. I thought I saw... mushrooms... or wheat... something to keep me going. Do you... do you have food, sir? Or water?'\n\nThe man nodded and indicated his rusty old pick-up truck a short way behind him. The old woman stood up and followed him to its door. He opened the driver's side and rooted around a little, then offered her a canteen. She sipped gratefully, and for a while there were no sounds other than the occasional swallow.\n\nThere was a movement from the passengers side. The old woman saw a reclining figure stir and look out at them warily. 'Hello? Who -- who is this?'\n\nThe man grunted, and the old woman saw a young, thin boy in the dimness of the car. Not that that was saying much. Everyone was thin these days. \n\n'What's your name?' The boy simply stared at her. She stepped closer, and suddenly noticed the sores covering his face and neck. She jumped back quickly. 'Is that -- ?'\n\nThe man nodded. 'Sick.'\n\n'I'm so sorry. It takes your voice, doesn't it? In the last stages.' There was no reply but the faint rustle of dead, dry leaves in the desert. 'I'm so sorry.'\n\nShe held up the canteen. 'My girl... she needs some too. Can I... can I bring it to her?' The man nodded, and waved his hand. \n\nShe walked back to the ramshackle shelter, barely large enough even for one; the man followed, still carrying his plank of wood. Inside, a pile of rags waited, not stirring. The old women bent down, creaking, and uncovered a pale, unmarked face. \n\n'She...she hasn't been hit by it, you know. We... we're immune.' The man nodded and grunted again. With a gentle hand, the old woman put the canteen up to the girl's blue-pink lips. \n\n'Drink now, my pretty... Drink...' With a faint, barely noticeable movement, the girl swallowed, once, twice. She did not open her eyes. The old woman watched her as she drank, then eased the canteen away from her. \n\n'There you go, my pretty. There you go.' The girl coughed, and subsided back onto her rags. \n\n'I... don't know how to help her. You know.... I just don't know how we can survive any more.'\n\nThe man grinned suddenly, menacing. 'I can.'\n\n'How?'\n\n'Dead meat.' It took the old woman a minute to figure out what he meant, then -- \n\n'I wondered why you were about to crush my skull.' The man gave a strange, hoarse bark; a soulless, heartless laugh. \n\n'Got to fight to survive.' \n\n'We all do, sir. These days.' Suddenly the rags in the shack gave a shudder. Quickly the old woman bent down to the girl. The pale little face, no more than ten year old, gasped and choked. \n\n'Oh, my sweet girl... Oh my dear child, what's wrong?' The old woman tried to hold the girl upright as she wheezed, struggled for air. Her lips, bluish before, now turned greyer, lost their colour. 'Oh, my sweet sweet girl... oh, my pretty girl...' With a croaking, rattling sigh, the girl took a last breath; with a sigh as if going to sleep, she let her life go. \n\n'Oh, my sweet girl...' Slowly, the old woman laid the girl back down on the rags. 'Oh, my precious girl.' There was not enough liquid in the old woman's body for tears; instead, she bent down to kiss the still-warm forehead. Behind her, the man put down his club and put his hand to his heart. Nothing moved in the desert; a dry, warm breeze brushed their cheeks. \n\nAt last the old woman stood up and turned to the man. 'She... I din't even know her name. I just... found her in the desert. They tried to hunt her down because she didn't get sick. Like me... I guess they... they got her in the end.'\n\nThe man nodded and bowed his head. \n\n'I tried to... I tried to look after her. We... we had water. A little. And a little food. But... it wasn't enough. There... was never enough. I'm old, and tough. I... I can manage. But she... Oh, my sweet, sweet girl.' She shook her head. 'You're right. We can't just sit here and... hope it'll blow over. We... we have to fight to survive. We... have to try.' She walked back towards the pickup truck. 'I might as well come with you now, if you let me.' \n\nShe sat in the bask seat and covered her eyes.'Do what you have to do for us to survive. Don't... don't let me see.'\n\nThe man nodded again. He knelt down and, instead of picking up his club, gently felt the girl's wrist and forehead. With calm, unhurried movements, he reached into the pocket of his boiler suit, took out a small, sharp pocket knife, and got to work.", "We through the world was done for when we heard that the Four Horsemen had been seen. \n\nWe were right, but not the way we thought. \n\nSee, it turns out that they're pretty picky about who gets to destroy the world. When the aliens came and bombed us into a wasteland, the Horsemen appeared. \n\nWar was first. \n\nNo one really agrees what War looks like. Sometimes she's a beautiful woman that men (and women) will kill to possess. Other times he's a tall, strong man in heavy armor. Their clothes are always red. \n\nWar swept through the enemy forces and rallied the tattered groups of humans that were left. Humans like to fight, after all, and now we had someone to lead us. \n\nPestilence was next. Unlike War, he's always male and always looks sick. We don't see much of him, because he's a walking bioweapon and most humans can't be near him. \n\nHe goes after the big hive-ships, when they land. One little stroll through the ranks and they die of terrible disease. \n\nHe always wears green, but it's a nasty green that makes you nauseous just to look at it. \n\nFamine is male too. We think, anyway. He is very very thin and looks fragile. People are always trying to feed him, but it doesn't help much, even if he thanks them for the worry. \n\nSee, Famine is also good at dedication. He sucks the out of everything he touches to feed his endless hunger. Turns out he can do batteries and energy fields. \n\nThe aliens don't know how to stop him. He just eats whatever they throw at him. He and Pestilence run together because he can't get sick, and he can get Pestilence where the disease-walker can do his scary work. \n\nHe always wears yellow. \n\nDeath was the last to appear. Like War, her form changes, but she's always female and usually looks like someone you know. \n\nShe's the most dangerous of all of them. Wherever she goes, shadowy must follows and if it touches you, you're dead. Just gone with no chance to fight. \n\nWhen the aliens ran for our last few cities, Death was waiting. It relax like she didn't even see them. She just walked through their ranks and left bodies in her wake. The more they ran at her, the more died. \n\nNo survivors. That's how Death operates. She always wears black. \n\nShe also spends a lot of time in the hospitals. She sings the injured to sleep. We see her with dying children a lot. Some of the doctors call her Mercy now, and it makes her smile just a little. \n\nIt's rare for all four to get together. I only saw it once. When the big battle cruiser landed and millions of soldiers poured out like they would never end. Their full invasion force. \n\nFamine went first. Their energy weapons focused on him. That was a mistake, because Pestilence walked next to him and spread his sickness in a cloud of toxic yellow that left soldiers choking on their own blood. \n\nWar hit them like a thunderbolt after that. In the form of a fair young man in blood-colored armor. He cuts a swath through them. Screams echo around him like music. It's appropriate. He looks like he's dancing, with a sword in one hand and a gun in the other. \n\nDeath is last, like she always is. She walks as a regal old woman with bare feet and a velvety black dress trailing behind her. It blends into the night-colored fog in her wake. \n\nThere are no screams when she passes. Only silence as the soldiers fall dead and she sings to them. When her mist meets with Pestilence, they throw lightning bolts that leap from body to body, only to thicken the blazing storm that boils up to consume the ships above. \n\nThe Four Horsemen have come, and they have brought doom with them. \n\nIn truth, the aliens didn't stand a chance. \n\n+++\n\nIf you like this story, I can send you a link to the rest of my work, including a full-length novel!\n" ]	3
	[WP] You're bored. You've been staring at this wall a long time. That guy left The Cave a long time ago. You're wondering where he went.	[ "With an exhale you shift to your left side. Your cheek hits the cool stone and your toes curl together, then stretch out. \n\nYou didn't bother with formalities, so you don't know the man's name. You had woken up one day and he was simply there, tending a fire in the corner and glancing at you, the whites of his eyes glimmering in the flames. \n\nHe's gone now. He and you shared a meal together, some identifiable meat he had been simmering on the fire, and then you fell asleep. When you woke up again, he had left. \n\nIt's been a while now. The fire is slowly fizzing out. You sit up and crawl to it. Your eyes travel to a pile of sticks, branches, and pine straw near it. Picking up one of the slender sticks, you stir the embers until the glow with a faint warmth. You spark the flame with pine straw until the flames reincarnate and grow. You add sticks until there is a proper fire. \n\nYou close your eyes and sigh, feeling suddenly weary. You reach your hands to the fire, so close that the flames almost lick your fingers. You spy a red piece of meat in the shadowed corner of the cave, and feel hunger yawn in your stomach. \n\nYou hear a sound behind you. \n\nA figure is lying on the ground and rubbing his eyes. You don't bother with formalities. " ]	1
	[WP] Months ago, you were abducted by aliens. Now, the aliens have revealed to the world that they exist, and that they are terrified of you.	[ "Months ago, I was just a normal girl you meet in your everyday life.\n As I returned to earth after being taken away by aliens , everything changed. I couldn’t even have imagined that the whole world will recognize me for no apparent reason. They gave me various weird creepy names such as ‘The cold hearted queen’, ‘The ruler of Fluffies’ , ‘The incarnation of devil’ and many more. \r\n\nI just wanted my imaginations about aliens to come true. How could something like this lead to such a situation. \r\n\nAll this started form the appearance of a beam of light. At first time I noticed this unusual light I was walking towards my home. Thinking of it as some sort of shooting star , I decided to ignore it. But the light came towards my location and surrounded me and made me float.\r\n\nThe people who saw this unusual phenomenon were startled just by looking at such a phenomenon. They just stared at me with a surprised look on their face. Not moving a bit, just standing still. \r\n\n‘At least pretend to help me’ , I wanted to express my kind thoughts to these petrified figures but I was too late. The light began to pull me further away. The speed of the pull me lose my conscious. Just before the moments of loosing myself I could see the light fading away. \r\n\nWhen I opened my eyes I was surrounded in darkness. The pervious incident was just like a dream for me. \r\n\n“Hello human. We have kidnapped you from your planet” \r\n\nThe voice was quite deep.\n\n“K-kidnapped ? ”I heard something terrifying. What to do they mean by ‘Kidnapped from my planet’?\r\n\n“We are what you humans call aliens. We have come here to take over your planet.” \r\n\nThe moment I heard the word aliens, I was afraid? Of course. But I couldn’t hide my excitement. From childhood I loved watching films related to aliens. The lone heroine escaping from the horrifying Space creatures, the military defeating large spaceships with nukes.\r\n\nThis was just too good to be true. How could I be selected as a Main character?. No this wasn’t my main problem with them. Why were they even able to speak English?\r\n\n“This can’t be true. You can’t be aliens. In which movie do aliens even speak English?” I denied this situation.\r\n\n“What should we do?”\r\n\n“I knew this isn’t going to work.” \r\n\n“Should we drop her back?” \r\n\n“Let’s show her our face.” Various worried voices could be heard.\r\n\n“Yes” everyone agreed to the final suggestion.\n\nI started to imagine the worst possible looking faces , with saliva dropping from their mouth.\r\nHowever the moment the lights were turned on all my expectation were crushed. I wasn’t able to think anything for minutes. I was blankly staring at them.\r\nWhy ? Why ? Is this a prank? No matter how you looked they didn’t resemble aliens at all. \r\n\nSmall is the correct word to describe them. Their size was close to that of a human baby. But they looked fluffier. No they weren’t aliens. They were what we call plushies. \r\n\n‘Are they even dangerous?’, I questioned myself.\r\nSeeing my reaction they started to panic. One of them started to move on his own. \r\n\n“ Believe us , look you can even see the earth from here.” Saying this he pointed towards a transparent surface. \r\n\nCuriously I moved towards the window. \r\n\n“Wow, beautiful!” I exclaimed. I was able to see the earth , but along with it I could even see some parts of the spaceship I was in. It was truly big. They are the real deal , I confirmed. \r\n\n“Ha, we proved it.” As they were able to prove their authenticity , the aliens relaxed.\r\n\nI could no longer resist the urge to touch their fluffy skins. I quickly started to move towards them and grabbed of the rabbit like plushy. \r\n\n“Soft”, I murmured while hugging this cute looking thing. \r\n\nThe poor thing which wasn’t able to resist this human screamed and soon passed out. This incident made them fear the being they abducted from earth.\r\n\n“You , bring me something to eat.”, she ordered them with a terrifying smile on her face. \r\n\nNo one was brave enough to question her.\r\n\n‘Was it right to abducted her?’, the panda faced alien thought while searching for food. They didn’t had any idea what terrifying experiences lied in front of them. \r\n\nEnd\r\n\r\n\r\n", "Gerald watched with bated breath as the little green man approached the podium. Besides him, his mother and father were similarly glued to the television set. They, like everyone else, could hardly believe it when the president announced first contact with alien life, that the first public address from these outsiders was coming today. The whole world was watching with a mix of nerves and excitement.\n\nOf course, Gerald was a little less surprised than most. He had been abducted months ago. Fortunately the aliens didn't probe him rectally, as fiction would have him believe. They just placed a little blue box on his head and told him to lay still for a few hours, then sent him home. Hardly too unpleasant of an experience, though he kept it to himself. He had enough troubles with his parents telling him to move out and get a job without also making them think he was crazy.\n\nThe alien stepped up to the microphone, it's large black eyes taking in the audience, the arrayed leaders of the UN flanking him on all sides. It held up one hand to its head, a gesture the audience had been briefed was an intergalactic sign of peace.\n\n“People of earth, of all nation,” the alien spoke in surprisingly crisp English. Well, not too surprising; they had been told that the outsider's technology would translate its words into all spoken languages as it spoke them. “I am Jarblar, representative of the Betan people. I have come here with an important announcement, an urgent call, from my people's leaders.” \n\nIt paused. Gerald felt he could hear the tension of all the world in that moment.\n\n“The Betans surrender to you. Completely and absolutely,” the alien spoke. “We submit to the authority of your world and your leaders. We hope you can find mercy for us.”\n\nSilence, followed by confused muttering as those in the audience digested the words. Surrender? At the podium, the leaders of the world looked no less confused.\n\n“All we ask,” Jarblar continued,” is that your people keep your champion, Gerald Smith, restrained and away from our dignitaries, and far away from our home planet.”\n\nMore confused muttering. Gerald's eyes were wide at the mention of his name, but he shook his head. It was a common name, after all. There must have been some bad-ass Gerald Smith in the marines who had, what, fought his way through one of their ships like an old 80's action movie hero? That was the only thing that made sense.”\n\n“We address him by his human name,” Jarblar continued, “but that is only because we are unfamiliar with your ways. We know he goes by several names, and we mean no offense if one of those is preferred during groveling. So it is that we name Geraldkin, Master Disaster Rage, and Too Edgy Four You Sixty-Nine. Know our respect him is great, and once we learn the proper name to address him by we shall do so.”\n\nGerald felt something catch in his throat. Those were his names. Well, his names when playing video games, anyway. He couldn't tell whether he should be more nervous that the aliens were addressing him directly or that his silly character names had just been stated aloud for all the world to hear.\n\nThe expressions on the faces of the world leaders flanking the visitor were of pure confusion. Some were whispering to aids off to the side, who were scrambling about, no doubt with orders to learn who this Gerald Smith was. Gerald wondered how long he had before they found him.\n\n“We have dug into the memories of your champion,” the alien continued. “It was not meant as insult, we had no idea who we had was so important. He sat still, allowing us to read his memories, no doubt unafraid of us, knowing that, if he wished, he could destroy us absolutely.” The alien paused, terror apparent even on its unearthly face. “I was on that ship. I had no knowledge of how close we had come to destruction that day until we replayed those memories later. I am thankful each day the champion chose to show us mercy.”\n\nGerald remembered the strange box they had placed on his head. Seems as if that had read his memories. But what could they have seen that frightened them so?\n\n“We witnessed your champion's great exploits. The conquest of Abaddon, the complete destruction of the world of Xendarrin, saving your own planet from many threats, such as the rampaging death machines created by the wicked Doctor Nogood. Truly, his exploits are such that your world owes him, many times over, and every other world deserves to fear him, for his has made clear that while he is a champion of the people, his wrath knows no bounds when it comes to other worlds.”\n\nAbaddon? Xendarrin? Doctor Nogood? Video game locations and characters. Gerald sighed and placed his head in his hands. They had read his memories of playing video games and mistaken it for real life. This could only end poorly for him.\n\nThe alien continued for a while, talking about all its people could do for the human race, which it would now be subservient to just so long as Gerald was merciful to them. Technology, medicine, the cure to world hunger. Humanity would enter a golden age.\n\nSo long as the aliens never realized what a video game was, anyway.\n\nIt was only an hour after the broadcast when a black SUV pulled up in front of Gerald's house. Gerald had been expecting it but still couldn't help but be nervous as the two nondescript men in black suits exited the vehicle and walked down the driveway. Gerald took a deep breath, adjusted the collar on the best shit he had (bought for him by his parents for 'job interviews') and walked to the front door.\n\n“Gerald Smith?” the agent on the left asked as Gerald opened the door. Gerald nodded meekly. “We're going to need you to come with us. I hope you understand.” He paused, then added in a voice caught somewhere between sarcasm and disbelief, “Champion.”\n\nGerald sighed and nodded. As he was stepping out the front door his mom called out to him.\n\n“Gerald? What's going on? Where are you going?”\n\nHe looked back at her. “You remember how you said nothing would ever be accomplished by me playing video games all day?” He shrugged, a resigned expression, then turned and followed the agents away.\n\n------\n\nIf you liked that, you might like some of my other prompt replies, kept in my subreddit thing: https://www.reddit.com/r/PFDavids/" ]	2
	[WP] In the courtroom your job is to assign punishments based on the defendants crime, however, each punishment must be unique from all the others.	[ "\"Alright, Mr. Gifford, you have pleaded guilty to the charges, so we now can move forward to deciding your punishment...\" the judge said, his deep voice reverberating in the hollow chamber. \n\nHe peered up at the man, whose desk placed him several feet above John's head. This only added to the intimidating figure the man cut; his face was shadowed in the dim lighting, the rest of his massive form was completely obscured by his requisite black robe.\n\nThe man scrawled a note onto the papers in front of him (or directly onto his desk—John didn't know because he couldn't actually see), and appeared to deliberate for several minutes. John cleared his throat out of nervousness, thinking it would be terrible if he was asked to speak and ended up sounding like a frog.\n\n\"Alright, weighing the circumstances of your burglary, I would say—and I know this is going out on a limb—but perhaps you can pay back the amount of damage you caused whilst singing Tina Turner's 'Private Dancer,'\" the judge said, rising his inflection at the end as though it were somehow a question.\n\nJohn wondered if he was being given a choice. \"Um, can I pay them back with a check—\"\n\n\"Your Honor, I feel like that song doesn't really apply to my client's circumstances,\" his lawyer interrupted.\n\n\"It does in a very loose, metaphorical way,\" the judge replied nonchalantly, staring over at a man sitting next to the stenographer, who was flipping furiously through a tome. \"Besides, counsel, you know that our choices are limited, here.\"\n\n\"Yes, but—\"\n\n\"C-can I just... It's just that my voice has a very atonal quality—\" John began.\n\n\"Well son, don't do the crime if you can't, er... sing,\" the judge finished lamely.\n\n\"Hold on, hold on, your Honor!\" the man behind the stenographer suddenly said, holding a single finger up high. He pointed to a place on the pages in front of him. \"I knew that one sounded familiar. This one was done on...\" he trailed as he scanned the page, \"December 19th, 2003.\"\n\n\"Damn!\" the judge said, then cleared his throat. \"Excuse me. Okay, thank you, Corrector. How about whilst singing 'Shoplifter' by Green Day?\"\n\nBefore John could speak, the Corrector said, \"You did that one last week, your Honor.\"\n\n\"Well, there are a lot of burglaries,\" the judge said stubbornly. He took off his glasses, rubbed at his eyes, and then continued, \"Alright, let's go a different direction. How about you pay a fine of five thousand dollars—in cash—\"\n\nThe Corrector shifted in his seat.\n\n\"—okay, okay, not that. That won't work,\" the judge said. He stared down at his hands for several moments, but then lit up with sudden insight. \"Pay five thousand dollars and seventy-three cents—\"\n\nThe Corrector cleared his throat. \"Excuse me, your Honor, but I believe that it goes against the spirit of the law to just assign a new—but arbitrary—fine amount. That doesn't really fulfill the 'unique' quality,\" he said.\n\nThe judge stared at him, irritation coloring his cheeks just slightly. \"Noted,\" he said through gritted teeth. \"You didn't let me finish, though. I was proposing that Mr. Gifford pay five thousand dollars and seventy-three cents using thirty traveler's checks, whilst wearing a very itchy, outdated tweed suit, and—\"\n\n\"Excuse me, Your Honor, but I must object,\" John's lawyer interrupted. \"This is shaping to be a highly unusual punishment!\"\n\n\"Some would even say unique, counsel,\" the Corrector said pointedly.\n\n\"That rule went out the window a long time ago, counsel,\" the judge snapped.\n\n\"Sir, it's in the Constitution! It's not just some law! My client must surely be entitled to a fitting punishment.\"\n\n\"Counsel, I believe this punishment would certainly deter such devious behavior in the future. Do you believe it would be a deterrent for you, Mr. Gifford?\"\n\nJohn looked up in surprise at the sound of his name. \"Uh, yeah... sure—sure would, Mr. Judge—er,\" he cleared his throat. \"Your Honor.\"\n\nThe judge gave a heavy sigh. \"Well, I'm sorry, but it's either an unusual punishment or no punishment at all.\"\n\nJohn looked up again with sudden interest. \"N-no, no punishment at all would uh, yeah... that would work for me,\" he stammered.\n\nJohn looked over to see his lawyer staring at him with disbelief, shaking his head slightly.\n\nTurning back to the judge, he continued, \"Alright, fine, your Honor, but I still have issues with your proposed punishment. For one, where would my client even get that many traveler's checks? Most banks don't even carry them! Do the fees he has to pay to get them count toward the fine or not? And finally, ignoring the fact that my client would have nowhere to obtain a tweed suit, how would we determine if it were itchy enough?\"\n\n\"Well, I can clarify the last portion, Counsel,\" the Corrector said. \"It cannot be, quote, 'so itchy that he can't sit still,' unquote, because it's already been so ordered. However, it cannot be, quote, 'lacking itchiness to allow comfort,' unquote.\"\n\nJohn felt his eyes glaze over as the man spoke. When the Corrector finished, his lawyer looked around, eyes wide with disbelief. \"That clarifies almost nothing.\"\n\nThe judge banged his gavel against what John supposed was called a gavel hammer receptacle thingy. \"That's enough. I will hear no more arguments against the punishment. Mr. Gifford, you will pay the fine of five thousand dollars and seventy-three cents, using no less than thirty traveler's checks, whilst wearing a sufficiently itchy, outdated tweed suit. The suit must not have been produced in the last twenty years. You will also wear tap shoes and step around as much as possible. It is so ordered. Case dismissed,\" the man said, banging his gavel once more.\n\nJohn's lawyer began to open his mouth once more, but the judge cut him off before he even began. \"No, counsel, I'm sorry. This case has been dismissed,\" he said curtly. \"If you have a problem with it, you may take your case to the appellate court, who will undoubtedly give you a fair trial in five to six years. You may go.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You have a super power. Every third decision you make will always end in amazingly great results. However, your first always ends badly, and your second ends even worse. Over the years, you've done a stellar job keeping track. Then, at a critical moment, you've suddenly lost count.	[ "Sorry if formatting is bad. I'm not near my computer now. \n\nMy whole life has been pretty much a breeze. Well kind of. Technically 1/3rd of my life has been a breeze. But don't worry, I always use that one third to be much better than the other 2/3rds. Let me explain. When I was a kid, I was extremely smart like 200 plus IQ points. I for some reason knew anything and everything. How to do surgery, how to play any sport, how to do Quantum Physics in the first grade, I can speak 32 languages aswell. \n\nI was the chosen one. I am direct descendant for Albert Einstein in his will he stated his 33rd direct descendant will receive his brain in a brain transplant. Well technology is so advanced they put his brain basically on a SD card and interested it into my brain. Well problem was well doing that The computer program combined all the brains on document and so essentially I have 432 brains put into one. I guess you could call it luck and that's what it was until recently. \n\nI had my life planned, I was perfect at football, one of the 432 must of been an NFL player. I was going to play football until I was 30. Look I get it, unrealistic but I'm 16 and the best player in the state of Texas. Friday night was my night. That is until one Friday. October 18th. The fall air was crisp, and in the distance you could see trees blowing. \n\nThat is until I drop back see my Wide Reciver down field, cock my arm back and BAM! A 330 pound lineman straight into my head. \n\nConcussed. \n\nNow, I can only do something perfect one of three times. Darn SD card must have gotten chipped. Problem is the first time I try something is that it ends up bad. The second time it ends up much worse. Then the third time it ends up perfect and some. \n\nI've kept pretty good count because let's be honest, if I was going to do surgery on someone it better be the third time. And yes I do have my doctorate so I can do surgery. It's been two years since the accident and I worked out a deal with the top medical school that I could take the final exam and get my degree if I get 100 percent. It was my third thing to do that day. Perfection as always. \n\nLike I said earlier I kept pretty good count. Until December 19th. I slipped and fell on black ice. I got up still heading instead to add a tally to my chart where I keep count. Problem is I couldn't remember if I had done one or two things and I had to do surgery in four hours. \n1, or 2, 2 or 1? 1...2... heck it could have been three I did make a pretty perfect left turn on to my street. \n\nOkay I can fix this. I just am going to warm up a slice of pizza and sit down and think about my whole day from the time I got up. \n\nPlop, I drop the cold slice of pizza in the microwave. I hit the 45 seconds and click start. \n\nKaboom! The microwave explodes and starts fire. Next thing I know the whole kitchen is on fire. I quickly dash outside. \n\nNow that had to be decision two, I think. Yet the problem is over the course of my life decision one has slowly been getting a worse outcome same with two. Somedays it's better than others though. So today could just be a very very bad day. \n\nIf you guys want I can add more later. ", "\"Come on, was I at my first choice or second?\" My eyes darting around, my head ringing and blood flowing down my forehead.\n\nI stood motionless in the building, gunfire all around me, still confused like in a daze. I have a super power, other people rely on chance, on luck. No, those are unreliable, the only thing you can trust is your choices. On every third decision I make, I will achieve and go beyond what was expected. For the other 2, well lets say it always always does not turn out well. I never pushed my luck after knowing my power. All because of one decision when I was 17, it was sort of career day, we have to chose what jobs we wanted, I have already used my good luck third decision. I accidentally blurted out \"an army man\" when my name was called. Hold and behold, I am here at the front lines fighting a war no one wanted.\n\nSince then, I always kept a close count to the number of decisions. 1.... 2..... 3.... 1... 2... 3... This power has kept me away from trouble many times before, from the times I was suppose to punish for misplacing my gun to a time where a conflict that caused a riot. I have come to be reliant on my power, altering every choice to the rule of 3. \n\nAll hell broke lose for me when that flashbang came through the door. The blinding flash made me lose count.\n\nTime is losing out the enemy is advancing and I still am unsure what number I am on. Guess what this seems to be the perfect time to rely on chance and on luck." ]	2
	[WP] In the afterlife, the currency is good deeds - if you sin, you lose a number of 'good deeds' equal to the severity of the sin, and if you go into debt, you end up in hell. You are an advisor for people who are strapped for good deeds.	[ "I paw through the stack of papers within the client's file, skimming through the lines of reading. The list of sins goes on and on. Abandoning an acquaintance in a city they didn’t know. Secretly putting a ham sandwich in someone’s car so that it rots and smells atrocious. Burning his ex wife’s clothes instead of giving them back or donating them to charity. Combined, the total sin points were at -1012. \n\nI close the manila folder, and my client is behind it, manspreading. Ugh. That’s another 20 points knocked off right there. \n\n“So, Eric,” I say, repositioning one of the bobble heads on my desk, “I don’t see you getting into the Good Place anytime soon.”\n\n“What? That’s impossible. I’m such a good guy. I’m the best person I know!”\n\n“Eric, it takes millions of points to get into the Good Place. Millions! You’re at -1032. Unless you do something impossible, like cure cancer, you’re not getting in anytime soon.”\n\n“Fuck you. I’ve done tons of good things in my life. I fixed that girl’s tricycle the other day.”\n\n“Okay, one tricycle fixed. That’s, what, 70 points? Let me look at the charts…”\n\nI pull out a tome from behind me. It’s the size of a suitcase, and about as heavy as one, too. Flipping about half a million pages in, I find exactly what I’m looking for. “Ah! Here it is. Fixing a tricycle. Oh, it’s gone down. It’s 60 points now.”\n\nEric lets out a sound through gritted teeth. I pull out my calculator.\n\n“So, okay, it’s five million points to get into The Good Place, and you’re at -1032.”\n\nA louder sound. I ignore him.\n\n“Since it’s 60 to fix a tricycle, we’re at… Oh! You need 83,350 more tricycles to secure a spot. I suggest you get to it.”\n\nEric stands up to storm off, but before he does so, he knocks over a bobblehead by slapping it. I subtract another 30 points from his account. \n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Make us empathize with the goombas in Mario.	[ "Bob’s life had been simple, and that’s the way he’d liked it. Guarding the grounds between the third and fourth pipes in World 1-1, he’d even been given a fellow Goomba to patrol with. He wasn’t sure why Bowser decided to station two of them in between two unimportant pipes, but it wasn’t his place to question. \n\nEvery day was the same, shuffling left to right, right to left, “accidentally” bumping into each other every so often, Bob was content. Mary’s brown pixellated edges bothered her, but he found them alluring. She was the most beautiful hench-being he had ever seen. Soon, they fell in love and were talking about settling down together, finding a place in the Goomba hills where they could raise little Goomba-lings together. \n\nTheir neighbour Steve was resentful at first. Sure, there was less room to patrol between the second and third pipes, but he would have liked some company too, maybe if Mary had been stationed with him instead of Bob, she would have fallen for him instead. Still, at least he only had a small area to patrol, unlike poor Barry, further to the left. He started at the first pipe and patrolled on and on for days before stopping at a predetermined point off screen, meaning he could finally return. Sure, each Goomba had a small grievance here and there, but they were all, for the most part, content. All this came to an end when their world changed, the day it first arrived.\n\nIt had been a beautiful day like any other, the sun reflecting off the pipes, the blue skies with barely a pixel-laden cloud to show. The first sign of trouble was Barry’s scream of pain. Bob called over the pipe to see if Steve could see what was happening. Not for the first time they cursed their stupid, flat, 2D nature and their inability to see past their small part of the world. They heard a thud and the sound of coins, another thud, a chewing noise and then an awful noise like something... stretching? It sounded so wrong. Something was coming. Bob exchanged a worried glance with Mary. He would protect her with his life.\n\nAnother thud and an agonising cry, closer this time. Bob realised that was Steve. He cried out for his neighbour but before he could get a reply, a shadow passed quickly overhead, and another terrible scream from his right, quickly silenced. Where Mary had been, now there stood an awful beast, facing away from him, standing on the corpse of his beloved. Bob let out a sob of anguish and hurried towards the figure at his top speed, but it was for nought, one leap and the monster cleared the pipe and was away. Within seconds Bob’s world had been upended, his Mary was gone, flattened. In the distance more screaming could be heard. He began to cry, and the world went black.\n\n---\n\nSuddenly, he was moved, still within the confines of the third and fourth pipes, but in the position he started his patrols from every day. There Mary was in front of him again! His heart soared. She was back! He didn’t know how but he was going to cherish this moment forever, until the day that he - \n\nThere it was again. A thud. “No, no, no,” thought Bob, “not again”. He and Mary exchanged a terrified glance as they heard the thuds getting closer and closer. Bob felt his heart almost stop as the shadow passed overhead again. This time it fell short of Mary, hopped over her, and made it’s way over the pipe again. Stopping on top of it, it squatted down on top of the pipe and disappeared. Just what was this thing? What did it want? A minute later and the world went black again. He was back where he would start his day again. But Mary was there, and so everything would be okay. \n\nMore thuds started again. Bob heard Barry’s howl of pain, then Steve’s. He tried to calm himself down as he expected to see the brute again, but he couldn’t slow his nerves. The shadow came again, but this time it grew in size until the world went black.\n\n--- \n\nOver the coming days and weeks, intelligence was shared between the Goombas and the Koopas. Apparently, things returned to normal once the monster was killed, or better still, left the level. At least then they would have some true respite until the fiend began the process again.\n\nJust how unfeeling was this beast? Could it not hear their cries of pain as they were crushed under its enormous feet, or did it just not care? Why was it continually on this journey from left to right? Were the rumours true? Was it really trying to reach the mighty Browser and steal from him his bride? \n\nNo answer ever came, and eventually this became the way of things. Its behaviour was erratic, there were times when it would dash through the world as fast as possible, hurting almost none of Bowser's troops, other times it would seem to delight on their suffering, attacking one innocent trooper with the shell of another, destroying everything in the area, right down to the brickwork. But no matter what mood appeared to strike it, it's face was unchanged, it's intent hidden beneath it's terrifying moustache. Sometimes the Mushroom Kingdom Monster would bypass them both entirely, other times it would decimate them both. But despite the agony of this death, the unfeeling boot squashing Bob's head down to his feet, by far the worse outcome was when this foul plumber would go sailing over Bob's head and he would have to watch as the love of his life was splattered once again.\n\nSpurred by his hatred of the enemy’s treatment of his paramour and his friends, Bob trained constantly, in the hope of getting faster and more deadly to deal with this menace. On rare, rare occasions, he took the barbarian down by himself. The victory was always short lived, and he found he would almost always be stomped on next time around as repercussion for his sweet sweet revenge. It made him think that maybe one day it would be possible to stop this maniac permanently, and how good would it feel if he were the one to do it? But this thought also made him worry. If the monstrosity stopped respawning one day, maybe it would he would stop respawning instead? Or even worst, what if Mary didn’t? It didn’t bear thinking about.\n\nInstead, Bob begged his superiors to restation Mary and himself, preferably to World 8-3 where the rumours said the demon barely ever reached, but his cries fell on deaf ears. The great king Browser had a plan. Eventually, if he kidnapped the Princess often enough, then this 'Mario’ might just give up. His plans would not be changed just for the want of two Goombas in love. Things would stay as they were, the cycle would continue. At least until something would break it.\n\n\nGAME OVER\n\n", "\"And with our forces combined, that damn Plumber is history!\" -The King of the Koopa Kingdom cheered as he concluded his attack plan on Mario, the only on between him and Princess Peach.\n\nThe infantry troops cheered soon after him, and there I was, a young Goomba, with a distinct, red tone to my chestnut-like body.. my friends used to call me \"Red\" for that... used to...\n\nAnd we all marched towards the Mushroom Kingdom... I started having doubts as into what I was getting into, the King warned us all of how \"that damned plumber\" was ruthless, and wouldn't stop at anything to \"get in the King's way\"... But I had to continue, I had to honor him... the reason what I was fighting for, it wasn't for the King, nor for a friend or a fiend. For my father, he was a troop in the Koopa Kingdom's 10 thousand men army, which is currently up to 30 thousand, for the record.\n\nAs we marched closer and closer to our destination, I realized a sillouette of not one... but two moustached men with caps. I later found out they discovered out plan months ago and made the necessary preparations... The two brothers jumped down on us, killing four of us in the process, but easing their fall... for non-goombas, that seems not like a big deal, losing 4 men in an army of 30 thousand.. yeah... 4 men meant 4 families destroyed... surprising, huh? Us Goombas, having families, hopes and dreams? Nah, we aren't nothing like that, we're just disposable troops of the King's neverending army, huh? Just thinking of that disgusts me.\n\nThe Hammer Brother troops attacked soon after, but they were prepared for that, as they quickly equipped their magic capes enclosed into feathers, knocking back all of the hammers flawlessly, killing the Hammer Brothers. The Bullet Bills attacked the two plumbers from behind, but they expected that, as they jump up and flew like cowards... as they channeled the power of the Fire Flowers within them, I was just paralized and shocked to see how... perfect their technique was... how we didn't stand a chance.. as they wiped out over ten troops with a single blow each...\n\nI fled like a coward... I just didn't want to presence the bloodshed anymore... I COULD'T presence the bloodshed anymore... only to die soon after? And I found cover inside a decently lit cave I wondered... how many more? How many more Goombas, Koopas, Hammer Brothers, and thousands of other troops have to die before the King gets what he wants?!\n\nIs it really worth this all?! I soon after returned to the battlefield to see if the battle was over.. I regret such decision, as such battlefield was already a field of corpses, everyone I've ever known and cared about during my time in the army... dead... I got down on my (lack of) knees... sobbing like the weakling I was... that's when I saw a blaze of green fire... I turned to face the younger of the brothers, Luigi, with tears still in my eyes... begging for mercy...\n\nAfter looking at me for some few more seconds... he threw the fireball...\n\n...\n\nAway from me.\n\nLuigi soon then started crying too, also on his knees, apologizing non-stop... saying how his brother convinced him to do this... and how he never thought of Goombas as more then just... similar to what I said before, \"Bowser's infinite supply of pawns\"...\n\nIt has been 5 years since my intergration into the Mushroom Kingdom society, while I am still isolated for being a Goomba, I soon have been treated less and less like an enemy and outsider by the people of the Mushroom Kingdom. And I feel like this is a new chapter not just for me, but for all goombas, we don't have to be outsiders, King Bowser's pawns, if you can get to know the enemy... you also get to love them.\n\n\nNOTE: This is my first WP, so any constructive critisism is appreciated!", "\"And on top of all this, we live in a dictatorship! When can us goombas get the same rights as the hammer bros? They get to live in a nice comfy castle; given helmets and already have shells for defense. If that isn't enough, the almighty Bowser gives them a pocket portal to the hammer dimension, unlimited hammers!\"\n\nGary the Goomba: 3 foot 6, bald, handless, and reeking of one too many Mushroom Martini's.\n\n\"You think Bowser's ever gonna THWOMP him up like that last goomba that dared to THWOMP him? Someone's asking for a THWOMP.\"\n\n\"Look Trevor you can't just replace any word you like with THWOMP; it's not grammatically correct.\"\n\nKenny the Koopa leaned back in his barstool and swirled his Boo Bomb. Why did he come to Boo's Bar? If you measured the total IQ of Boo's patrons and converted it to coins, you would not have enough for an extra life. Also what kind of a sick prankster decided to name every object as some asinine type of alliteration? Kenny sighed and placed his Star Straw into the next drink.\n\n\"And on top of this.... Hey are you all listen' to me? I'm pourin' my heart out here and none of you are lookin' at me. Wait do goombas have hearts? Anyways, we need to make a new social hierarchy based on a representative democracy! This aint' no way to run a kingdom.\"\n\nA heckler in a booth couldn't resist.\n\n\"If we're a kingdom, then shouldn't we be a monarchy then wise guy?\"\n\nGary's strange, pointy eyebrows formed a V on his face.\n\n\"Was that you Sherry the Shy Guy? Why dontcha come and say that to my face... which I''m pretty sure is 90% of my body anyways. Wait is Shy Guy politically correct anymore; am I suppose to call you a Shy Girl?\"\n\nA quick sprint and a burst of the saloon doors, Sherry lived up to her name.\n\n\"Alrighty then as I was saying.....\"\n\nCRASH\n\nSherry flew head first back through the door. A black shape ripped the door from its hinges, fire singed Perry the Piranha Plant's new leaf cut.\n\n\"Now word is one of you is plotting to overthrow my dictaror.... I mean benevolent rule! Which one of you chuckle heads was it?\"\n\nBowser Jr. and his clown car stood trembling.\n\n\"Not you you ignorant child, and wait what are you doing in a bar? Go back home to your mother!\"\n\nBowser Jr. flew out the door: Sherry was close behind. Tears streamed down his face (Sherry's as well).\n\nBowser turned his attention to the stage. Gary tried with desperation to get his footing so he could run out, he should not have drank that last Bom-omb Burst.\n\n\"You! Lowly Goomba, what do you think you're doing?\"\n\nBowser's nostrils flared, smoke filled Boo's Bar. Bowser advanced and there was no one who could save Gary now.\n\n\"If there's one thing that's absolute in this kingdom, it's that I'm ALWAYS FIRST.\"\n\nBowser shrieked pulling Gary the Goomba into his claws.\n\nA small voice piped from the back of the room.\n\n\"Did someone say first?\" Blu the sentient Blue Shell flapped his wings eagerly. \n\n\"Wait no... I didn't say anything!\" Bowser pleaded, but it was too late.\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] Ghosts are a real, known thing. Your house is haunted, and you wouldn't have it any other way.	[ "The flowers on the table were fresh.\n\nI reached out to touch the soft white folds, mindful of the thorns beneath. I closed my eyes, breathing in the gentle fragrance. Strong hands grasped my shoulders, working out the kinks. Gnarled fingers kneaded the muscles as a deep, honey whiskey voice asked if I needed to sit.\n\nI shook my head and turned. The space behind me was empty, the air buzzing with something unseen. A tea cup sat on the counter, pulled from bare cabinets.\n\nI stepped forward, my heels on the tile an alarm. The house awoke; the floor above bursting with activity. Bodies tumbled and wrestled, childlike voices cheering the action on. Laughter and screams rang out; taunts and challenges. It brought a smile to my face.\n\nWalking past the bathroom, I caught a glimpse of a woman applying lipstick. In a blink, she retreated into the glass, leaving a glimmer of dust in her wake.\n\nI continued down the hall, past bedrooms with aging, broken furniture. A man's voice hummed beside a swinging, cracked bassinet. I picked up his song for a few bars, nostalgia making my skull buzz. The boards beneath the carpet creaked, adding to the music.\n\nThe fire in the parlor at the back of the house had long gone out, yet someone sat to tend to it. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, down the length of her spine. She lounged on the gray slate, this part of the house silent. Between my breaths, it was merely the chirping of birds and chorus of bugs in the tall grass. Midday fought its way through musty curtains, struggling to dapple the girl's skin with light.\n\nI touched her shoulder, the silk of her blouse cool on my palm. She turned to me, lips chapped and cheeks freckled, eyes wide and curious.\n\nA direct sunbeam from a break in the curtains sent her away. She slipped from beneath my hand, into the ashes.\n\nI swallowed the lump in my throat, rising to my feet. I stared at the pictures on the mantle, fingers curling over the softened brick. I breathed in the scent of decay all around me, the flowers no longer there to mask it. Faces peered back at me, bound to film, trapped in another time. Two of me stared out into the parlor, but only I looked back.\n\nMusk and perfume wafted from the attic. The silverware in the kitchen rattled. The floors creaked again, and in the glass reflection of the photo frames, I saw the dozens of faces anew. I smiled, closing my eyes and dipping my head against the stone. Bodies large and small shifted behind me, filling the space and reaching out. Warmth radiated from my back, a passing cloud allowing me a moment alone with my beloved spirits.\n\nA different song broke the connection. I took my phone from my pocket, pressing it to my ear. The ghost shied as I turned, melting back into the chairs; the paintings; the pillows; the lightbulbs. They watched from shadows and corners, as I traced my way back through the house.\n\n\"How goes the visit?\"\n\nThe town had kept the place in good condition, after it was cleaned. As fair as they could without owning it, for no one ever being able to live in it again.\n\n\"They picked roses for the plot this year? How thoughtful; your mother's favorite.\"\n\nThe living knew well to honor the dead. Ghosts only favored those kind to them. Heaven help you to have an angry hoard of spirits upon your house. It was what had kept me safe these last two decades, on my own.\n\n\"I'm sure they're all happy to see you doing so well.\"\n\nI paused at the front door. Standing in the threshold, I glanced back at myself, twenty years younger. I didn't see her as she had been in her last moments; the final victim of the worst massacre. I didn't recall her in the way that the coroner and the newspapers did. Her memory was untainted as she stood strong, her eyes clear and her smile kind.\n\nShe waved. The motion eased the time and distance that weighed between us, just a bit. Enough for me to wave back, through blurred vision.\n\nI blinked, and she was gone. The house groaned, settling into its bones, my visit concluded.\n\nThe wind picked up as I wondered, not for the first time, who might be standing in my place if I hadn't gone away that night.\n\n", "The first time Alexandra saw Peter, she thought he was just a stranger in her home. Then he yelled, “Boo!” and flew away. Literally, flew through the ceiling, into the attic. Alex had laughed out loud and walked into the kitchen to get more coffee. \n\nNow, they were close. Peter even brought over friends for meals, and allowed her to do the same. Normally, he looked like a regular man, he could remain solid when he wished. Alex had come to believe Peter was her soul mate. So what if he was dead?\n\n“How did you die?” She asked one night, as she ate a small plate of spaghetti.\n\n“It was a long time ago,” he appeared thoughtful, “My father was a cruel man, especially when he had a few whiskeys. One night, I had come to visit my mother. I was 30 at the time, with a wife and child at home. I had just arrived and I found my father beating my mother with his cane. She was crying, begging him to stop. I rushed in and pulled him away and he turned and banged me over the head with the cane. He then continued to hit me in the face and head, shattering my skull. The last thing I saw was the anger in his face as I died.”\n\n“Oh, wow,” She looked at him with shock on her face.\n\n“When I came to, I was in a place of pure white. There was nothing there, no rooms, no people, no walls. I was just no where. Then a big swirling vortex, purple and black dancing together in an unending waltz, opened and a tall black man walked out,” Alex had no words and the story continued, “He asked me what I wished to occur. I could go into the nothing and cease to be, or I could return to Earth for an indeterminate amount of time.”\n\n“You chose to come back?”\n\n“I needed to guard my mother,” He paused, looking at her, “The next thing I knew, I was standing over my dead body, my father’s body on the ground, bleeding next to mine. My mother stood by the fire, a rifle in her hand. She had killed him.”\n\n“Oh, my god,” she reached out and touched his cheek as a tear rolled down his face, but her hand slipped through. He must have chosen to remain incorporeal. \n\n“The police arrived and she explained what had happened. It was devastating to the town, but was forgotten fairly quickly. My mother moved to Florida with her sister. I never saw her again, but I remained here.”\n\n“I’m glad you did,” Peter reached out and grasped her hand, suddenly tangible again. He pulled her close and held her until she drifted off to sleep, safe in his arms. \n\n“Me too,” he whispered into her hair as she gently began to snore. Their love was strange and unexpected, but it was real, and that is what mattered. " ]	2
	[WP] Your English teacher has made your class do an essay about fanfiction. This can only go well.	[ "\"Fanfiction is a fiction written by a fan, featuring characters from a...\"\n\n\"Fiction the reader is obsessed with. It is a clear sign of...\"\n\n\"Creative writting starting to develop from an early...\"\n\n\"Knowledge of anatomy, often overestimating the stretching ability...\"\n\n\"Of a character's personality. Often, characters are OOC and...\"\n\n\"Changed, for the worst, are the words \"harcore fan\"...\"\n\n\"Of a particular TV series, film, etc.\" \n\nEdit-grammar and formatting " ]	1
	[WP] You get in the elevator, press the button for the twelfth floor, and take a deep drink from your coffee. Somewhere between the fifth and sixth floor, there's a shudder and the lift stops. The door opens, and you're greeted by an astonishing sight.	[ "I can't deal with this job until I've had my coffee.\n\nEverybody thinks that working in HR at Logicua is this big party. Everybody thinks it must be so much fun, with giant salaries and worldly prestige and foosball tables in every breakroom.\n\nAnd yeah, we have all that. But there's also the drama.\n\nI stepped on the elevator and pushed the button for 12. Big sip of coffee.\n\nTake Debbie for example. This woman, the sweetheart, can't talk about anything besides her three kids. She'll tell you about their grades, or their sports teams, or what they ate for goddamn lunch. Another sip. It's honestly infuriating.\n\nAnd what about Leslie? She's one of my best friends, but the woman's laugh is enough to drive you crazy. I mean, did she descend from hyenas?\n\nDon't even get me started on Bettie. I don't know how someone with so little education has so much to say about the world, but, I'm not even going to go there.\n\nThe elevator started, and I took another sip.\n\nThat's when it shuddered. Somewhere between 5 and 6, we came to a sharp halt. The doors opened up. There, on the wall in front of us, was a colony of ants, escaped from their research cages, forming some kind of mutual pattern. Then, the frantic sounds of the research team came from the floor below, shouting and yelling and trying to get them back.\n\nLooks like they're having a tougher day than I am.\n\nI chuckled to myself, and took another sip of coffee.\n\nMondays.\n\n///\n\nScene #69 of r/100scenes", "My weekday morning routine begins at 6:15 AM, when my alarm goes off for the first time. My protocol here is to reach over from my bed to my nightstand, and scoop six tablespoons of grounds into my coffee maker. By 6:18, I have switched the machine on, and by 6:20, I am half asleep again.\n\nAt 6:28, my pot of coffee is ready. I reach over again to my nightstand to pour 8 ounces of the boiling liquid into my stained white mug, and roll over to once again escape reality.\n\nMy second alarm goes off at 6:45. By then, the coffee has cooled down to the point that I can down the whole cup in two massive gulps. By design, I barely taste the liquid. I hate coffee. I promptly pour myself another eight ounces.\n\nThe second cup of coffee takes less time to cool than the first. After another ten minutes of half sleep, my third alarm goes off, and it’s down the hatch. \n\nA year ago, my first alarm went off at 6:25, and this was all it took to get me out of bed. Now it takes one more snooze cycle, and one more cup of coffee, which I pour at 6:55 and drink at 7:05.\n\n7:10 is the absolute latest I can stay in bed if I want to make it to work by 8:00. I’ve been hitting this number on the nose for the last three years, and it hasn’t failed me once. I cast my crumpled bed sheets aside, take a long piss, and go through the motions of taming my knotted mop of hair. I’m out of the bathroom by 7:15.\n\nThen it’s back to my bedroom. I throw on a polo, some khakis, and usually, (if I’m not in too much of a hurry to remember), my belt. I make a quick trip to the kitchen to grap a granola bar and my thermos, and then it’s back to my bedroom, where I transfer the remains of my coffee pot and pull a pair of socks and shoes over my feet. I’m out the front door of my apartment by 7:20, and backing out of my parking spot two minutes later.\n\nMy 30 minute commute to work consists of eating my granola bar, drinking about half the coffee in my thermos, and halfheartedly listening to a self-help podcast. The podcast is the most critical part of my morning, because it allows me to pat myself on the back for taking steps to improve my life, without actually accomplishing anything. I will use this moral licensing for the next 8 hours, when I browse the internet and do not perform the responsibilities of my job.\n\nIf there’s no traffic, I get to the parking lot of my job by 7:50. This is ideal, because it gives me enough time to perform my second most important task of the morning; five minutes of meditation/trying not to think about how much I don’t want to be at work. If there is traffic, and I pull into the parking lot at 7:55, I simply skip this step.\n\nIt takes two minutes to walk from my car to the lobby, one minute to ride the elevator, and two more to walk to my desk. Or at least, on a routine day, it would.\n\nIt’s 7:57 on a Wednesday. I step into the elevator alone, and punch the button for the 12th floor. As the digital floor display hits 2, I shake my thermos and deduce I have about 4 ounces of coffee left. By floor 4, I have zero ounces of coffee left. Floor 5 passes, and then…\n\nThere’s a sudden lurch that nearly throws me off my feet. The elevator comes to a complete stop, with the bottom left line of the floor display flickering on and off, changing the display from five to six. For the first time it years, I can actually feel my heartbeat. I hit the elevator’s alarm button, and then the door open.\n\nThe elevator obeys my command, sliding open as if nothing has happened. And for a moment, my brain tricks me into thinking the same thing. This is floor 12, I think, as the corners of my lips lower into a frown. I duck back into the elevator, and see that the display is still flickering between 5 and 6.\n\n“Is this a prank?” I say aloud, to no one in particular. No one answers. I walk toward my desk, and notice that Kathy’s desk, then Ben’s, and finally Steve’s are all empty. After a moment, I notice that their desk ornaments are gone, too. There are a few other changes that I realize as I look closer. The cubicle walls are a slightly different color, a few of the desks have changed, and the computers look surprisingly postmodern. I furrow my brow and walk on.\n\nI arrive at my desk, and am surprised to see someone sitting there. “Do you know what’s going on?” I ask.\n\nHe doesn’t hear me. He’s wearing headphones, and, although he’s done the best he can to block the visibility of his computer screen from the aisle, it’s clear that he’s watching a video on YouTube. He’s facing the screen intently, but judging from his hairline and posture, he’s about 30 years older than me. I take a step closer. “Hey!”\n\nThe man pops out one ear bud, and looks right at me. His eyes are blue, like mine. “Oh hey,” he says, a guilty smile on his lips. “I’m almost done with the report. I’ll have it in this afternoon.”\n\nI can feel a chill shooting through my body. I take one step back, my lip quivering as I try to get some words out. The man has already put his ear bud back in, and is back to his video. I put a hand to my mouth, and look across the decorations of his cubicle. The same pennant from my alma mater, the same thermos that I’m holding in my hand, and the same collage of my favorite movie characters lining the wall behind my computer.\n\nI close my eyes, and feel tears running hot down my cheeks. I had always wanted to be a screenwriter…\n____________________________________________________________________\nOf all the writers on this site with their own subbreddits, I'm certainly one of them. More stories at r/mvdww" ]	2
	[WP] Aliens often vacation on Earth disguised as humans. There are three big rules. No killing, no love, no revealing what you actually are. It's your first time on Earth and you have broken all three rules in one day.	[ "So there I was...standing in a puddle of human blood. I thought to myself \"Damn, you've only been here a day and your parents were right. You aren't even fit to visit a planet full of idiots.\" \n\nBut they just won't understand. I met this wonderful cross eyed woman at the Honkey Tonk next to my apartment. She reminded me of my high school sweetheart. \n\nWe hit it off instantly after I bought her a whiskey on the rocks. She complimented my striking appearance, which was a relief because I picked a shell that came from Africa and I wasn't sure how that would work out in Austin, Texas. I guess my exotic look was a welcome distraction from the norm here. As the night rolled on, we became drawn to each other. I asked her back to my place where I made the mistake of saying \"I'm out of this world\" when it came to sex. \n\nShe looked at me with much suspicion. I was busted. She HAD to know I wasn't from here. Rule one out the window. \n\nI told her I loved her after only 14.765 seconds of intercourse, which is the norm on my planet of Friendzonious. Wow. Two broken rules already. I kicked myself.\n\nWe started again, but this time much more aggressively. Then it happened...strike three. \n\nI stepped out for a cigarette...a rare delicacy on my planet...and called my mother. \n\nMom was apprehensive when I told her I had fallen in love with a human. \"How will she give you forty children with only one Vagina? \n\nThat's when I told her I killed her.\n\n\"Oh my! Falling in love was bad enough, but you killed her? I knew you couldn't abide by the rules of Earth!\" \n\n\"Well what would you do Mom? She put a finger in my butt! There was nothing I could do! I had already broken two rules!\" I pleaded. \n\n\"At least she didn't know you were from another world\" Mom said. \n\n\"Well but...oh shit.\" I said. Maybe I read into that one. My bad. \n\n Now I have to figure out how to clean up this mess. ", "I couldn't see her standing there,\nthe blood still in my eyes. \n\nBut what I knew I could not fake,\nI was wearing no disguise. \n\nI loved her more than she could know,\nas I'm sat there with the dead...\n\nand if I'm counting that's all 3,\nthey'll surely have my head.\n ", "\"Claryion what the actual fuck!\" \n\nI turned my head to look at my friend Doorni who came with me to Earth. It wasn't hard obtaining the space passports or anything so but we just had to follow the three rules. \n\nEverything was going fine and the Two of us were enjoying the trip. Well now I look at my friend sitting on a bed covered in blood, myself with blood all over, and next to me is a beautiful woman who is headless. \n\n\"Oh hey Doorni what's up?\" I say to him. \n\nHe stares at me shocked still in complete disbelief. \n\n\"Clary why the are you covered in blood and- oh what the-... CLARY IS THAT A HUMAN!\"\n\nI look over at the headless woman, \"Nnnooooo...\" I make an attempt at lying. \n\nDoorni looks at me still in shock, \"It is a human. You. You Fucking killed a human Clary!\"\n\n\"Welll it wasn't my fault.\"\n\n\"You've only been away from me for 12 hours, what the hell happened?\"\n\n\"Okay but you gotta promise not to get mad.\"\n\nHe looks back at the dead body next to me, \"I think we're way past that.\" \n\n\"Finnne. Okay so you know how you ran into those sick dudes who wanted to surf and stuff and I was like 'nah man it's not real my thing but I'll go do other stuff' and you were like 'that's sick my totally not alien bro who wants me to interact well with humans' and I was like 'dude why are you saying this aloud peeps be suspicious' and you were like 'nah my totally bro who is in fact human' and I was like 'DUDE' and you were like-\"\n\n\"Just get to the point!\"\n\n\"Okay well as it turns out you shouldn't have left me alone because only a few minutes later I met a girl and we hit it off really well.\"\n\n\"O-Okay, and?\"\n\n\"Well we spent the entire day getting to know each other and then I kinda told her I was an alien from space and that I loved her.\"\n\nDoorni paused staring at me. His mouth agape. \"WHAT THE FUCK! Wait. Then. Who is this?\" He pointed to the girl beside me. \n\n\"Oh this is her.\"\n\nHe began to gag.\n\n\"I mean I think we hit it off well.\"\n\n\"I'm gonna barf.\"\n\n\"Oh not in her man that'll be messy.\" \n\nHe stopped and looked at me in the gore strewn room we talked in. \n\nHe composed himself, \"Well I assume it didn't work out too well.\"\n\n\"No actually it went great and she told me she loved me too!\"\n\n\"Then what happened?\"\n\n\"Well we made love and afterwards, as is customary with my people I needed to eat her head to feed the offspring she has implanted in my body.\"\n\n\"DUDE!\"\n\n\"I CAN'T BREAK CUSTOM DOORNI! THIS ISN'T FUCKING SPACE CABO!\" \n\n\"Damn it man. Well we're gonna get in trouble for this. Like at least a space week suspension on our space passports.\"\n\n\"But dude it was so worth it.\"\n\nHe shook his head at me. \n\n\"Hey you wanna try some?\" I offered him, living up her hand. He got queasy and left. \"Well I guess more for my babies.\"", "“You… what?!” asked Jack.\n\n“I know, I know! But I panicked!” said Steve. \n\n“We all freak out a little our first time on Earth… but this is a bit much, don’t you think?”\n\n“But I’d never been with a woman before!”\n\n“I hate to bring it up, but most people don’t kill the first hooker they sleep with. It’s much later in life that you start killing hookers.”\n\n“You don’t understand… I had to.”\n\n“What do you mean you ‘had to?’”\n\n“I kind of, sort of, told her about Jvledefarn…”\n\n“What?! Why in the blfardum would you do that?!”\n\n“Pillow talk.”\n\n“Pillow talk? “\n\n“Yes. Pillow talk.”\n\n“With the hooker?”\n\n“With the hooker.”\n\n“Why were you engaging in pillow talk with the hooker?”\n\n“She was nice… sweet. I fell in love…. She didn’t make fun of my… my small splordrax…”\n\n“Of course she didn’t! She doesn’t know what a blfardumer splordax is!”\n\n“I mean, she saw it though. It was disguised as my penis.”\n\n“Even the tiniest of splordix are ten human inches.”\n\n“I don’t know what that means.”\n\n“It means she thought you had a huge cock, Steve!”\n\n“My disguise was a businessman, not a farmer.”\n\n“Unbelievable.”\n\n“So will you help?”\n\n“Of course I will. I love nothing more than burying dead Earth hookers on Mars. It’s literally my favorite thing to do.”\n\n“NASA will lose their vlopat when they find all those bodies.”\n\n“Heh. They’ll need to actually dig up the “face on Mars” to find them.”\n\n“What?! That’s where you’ve been burying them?!”\n\n“Yeah…”\n\n“That thing is, like, 800 feet high.”\n\n“Yeah. I know. I’ve buried a lot of Earth hookers.”\n", "Earth.\n\nThe wispy clouds and blue oceans beckoned me as my ship cut in through the atmosphere, the tiles on its skin glowing bright red. I gripped the armrest of my seat tighter and closed my eyes as the autopilot continued its descent to the Pacific. Almost there…\n\nI felt a roar as the ramjets kicked in and the ship stabilized. Active camouflage on the hull made it invisible to human observers, and their pitiful radar was absorbed with ease. Now floating on extending wings, the ship banked for the final approach.\n\nAll my documentation was settled – I was Amy Thompson, mid twenties, American citizen. Wrapped around my face was a nanoleaf veil, giving my Raqi features an appearance that matched my passport. The Raqi were quite humanoid in appearance, but nevertheless had larger eyes and nearly invisible ears. We couldn’t pass reasonable scrutiny on Earth, and I had the additional fault of having pale, nearly white, skin. My purple hair was dyed blond and carefully styled to conceal the larger prosthetic ears glued to my head.\n\nI was dressed in a brown leather jacket, skinny jeans, and black boots. On my head was a full-face motorcycle helmet that hid my appearance even further. Strapped behind me in the cargo bay was a BMW F800 bike, sporting forged plates and documentation. In the saddlebags was a holograph, a 3D scanner that could record any space and store it into memory. The system could be used in reverse, allowing one to immerse themselves into a saved location as if they were there.\n\nTechnically, I was on vacation. All expenses paid, including the ridiculously expensive ship and gear. Insurance and government permits were taken care of. The catch was that I had to map the world with my holograph. Explore Earth, they had said. Record the train stations, mountains, museums, even sewers. Well, maybe not the last one.\n\nBut I digress. I looked at the display in front of me, wheeling my gloved fingers over the virtual console. A few taps confirmed the destination coordinates.\n\nYellowstone National Park, Wyoming. A stealth landing in woodland, followed by two days of riding and possibly some hiking. The nights would be spent in the ship, which I’d nicknamed Baliz after the winged horses of my homeland. Which I probably wouldn’t return to for many months.\n\nBLEEP!\n\nLights flashed sharply as the autopilot suddenly disengaged, forcing the ship to manual. I instinctively grabbed the yoke and pulled it back, preventing a Mach 5 crash into the ocean.\n\nJust a systems failure, I thought. Then the engines cut out.\n\nI moved my hands more quickly, manually working the relays controlling the fuel pump. The airspeed indicator was projected on the corner of my eye, and I cursed as the speed dropped rapidly. By the time I’d fixed the pump, I was going too slowly to restart the jets. Attempting to start the main booster at this attitude would be suicide. Feeling defeated, I activated my thrusters and brought the craft down relatively safely on a corn field.\n\nSafely in the sense that I survived the crash landing. The nose was damaged badly, fluids leaking from the fuselage. Parts of the dry field were burning where the thrusters touched the ground. Worst of all, the active camouflage had failed entirely and Baliz was visible for the world to see.\n\nShit.\n\nI hauled myself and the BMW out the rear escape hatch. The cockpit and storage compartment was encased in an additional hard shell, preventing its contents from damage. I was filling my backpack with additional supplies just as the door of the farmhouse opened. My eyes didn’t even glance at the farmer’s face, and instead picked out the Remington 700 in his hands. Hands that were pulling the bolt back and shouldering the weapon as he stared at the alien ship on his land.\n\nTime slowed as I reached into my bag and drew my pistol with speed that surpassed any human. I watched as the plasma bolt hit him in the breast, blowing his body to bits. My first deadly sin, but the consequences were off my mind right now. With a small drip in my eye, I set Baliz to self-destruct in five minutes. Those tears continued as I looked at the bloody mess on the porch, and then to the stars that were appearing up above. I was light years away from what humans called Alpha Centauri, but what the Raqi called home. My husband was waiting for me, as was my young daughter that wouldn’t let go when I left for the shuttleport weeks ago.\n\nWith a heavy heart, I mounted the bike and set off.\n\n---\n\nI got carried away a bit. I might continue for a part 2, since the story clearly isn't done yet!", "Title: It is still a tape recording.\n\nMarie ripped open a pack of Cheerios, and feasted off the grainy goodness. A few feet away, the dead body of who looked like Marie bled on the green carpet. I looked from the dead body, to the living Marie, and opened my mouth to speak, but no words would come out.\n\n“Do you want some? No, I suppose you would want it with milk. I haven't quite mastered digesting lactoid materials,” said the living Marie, speaking in her English accent. She crunched and crunched, as the reddish liquid pouring from the dead Marie's body pooled at her shoes.\n\n“Did you kill her?” I asked. \n\n“Yes. She was planning on getting back with you. Did you know that?” said Marie.\n\n“Why did you kill her?” I asked.\n\n“Erica,” said this not-Marie, “I didn't intend to kill her. The cloning procedure...shit. It just went wrong. So wrong. I'm sorry.”\n\nI pushed myself up the floor, trying not to look at the body. “Stop speaking with her voice.”\n\n“I can't. I mean, I could, but it would be difficult. The simulation procedure makes a copy of the chosen human's consciousness over the original consciousness. That's why I know she loved you. Because I do..”\n\n“You can't love me. I don't even know you. I knew Marie.”\n\n“I am a perfect copy of Marie. I mean, my original form looks like Cthullu shagged a porcupine, but right now I'm Marie. It's weird, seeing me dead. I am sorry for your lover.”\n\n“Get away from me.”\n\n“Will do. Although, you'll see me again. Cause you're an intriguing human. Worth my observation on this planet.”\n\n“I'm just a struggling artist. I come from Missouri. Raised on a farm.”\n\n“Can't help who I fall in love with. And I'm just following Marie's emotions.”\n\n“Go to hell. Get away from me.”\n\n“You're in my house. You get out!” said Marie playfully. The same way Marie would have. “Shit, I've broken all my rules in one day. Fell in love. Killed. And revealed myself.”\n\nSo I got out. The next day, I saw Marie. She was no different than any other day. At first, I was worried. But there was no trace of any alien weirdness. We got back together, and tried as I might, I couldn't sense a difference. I tried to forget what I had seen.\n\nSometimes I wonder, though. ", "Humans were considered to be a little slow when it came to space travel. At this point they can barely get to their own moon. Probably for the best all they would learn is that a lot of alien races hated each other. \n\nMy system and people were constantly at war with several others with a list of reasons longer than most books. In one case we had completely wiped out an entire species but they had already built their superweapon. A self replicating AI war machine. We fought to keep it at bay until it eventually ran its system out of resources and powered down.\n \nAt this point, if humanity started serious space travel they would just get wiped out or enslaved. Their sun harvested for energy. A few races instead decided that earth could serve as a type of vacation spot. It was a planet where everyone cast aside their wars and political ties. It was neutral planet and the founding races made a ton of money off it.\n\nEarth’s people hated each other so much that corruption was rampant throughout the world. Give a tourist enough money and they could basically do anything they wanted. There were a lot of rules in place though. The most important obviously being that we couldn’t reveal ourselves in any way. Humans believed that they were alone in the universe. That belief needed to be maintained.\n\nEarth was my vacation choice after my last assignment. I was sitting in a New York City park. For some reason the blend of nature vs buildings was always fascinating to me. My planet had been changed to a purely mechanical one for thousands of years now. New York was always so different whenever I came back. The parks were always beautiful. \n\n My species had an easier time on earth because of our abilities. Shapeshifting and telepathy through physical touch. I didn’t even really need the money that came with the tourist package. Anything could be acquired by the end of the first day. Other members of my species used their talents for rougher tastes, I just kept to myself. Even among my own people I was known as a monster of war. Being alone was what I was resigned to.\nToday I my look was that of a homeless. Very easy way to be ignored in most cases. Until night fell I’d be surprised if anyone came anywhere near me.\n \nWhile I was lying against a tree a small puppy came up to me. I wasn’t particularly enamored with Earth’s habit of keeping pets, making a connection with something that you couldn’t even speak with seemed absurd. I gently ran my hand along the animals back as it licked my hand. Emotional feedback from animals was usually the same. Hungry, hungry, hungry, play, but the suddenly. Hurt. It whined a little and shied away as I lifted my hand. You couldn’t tell due to its coloring but the animal’s entire lower back was actually bruised. It now was staying out of reach but it didn’t run away.\n \nThe dog was still taking all of my attention when she came over. Her age couldn’t have been over 11 of their years. Humans lived fast and died quickly. By the time I visited again she’d have a child of her own. The puppy came back over in my direction and barked at me it’s tail wagging.\n \n“Did she yelp because you touched her back?” the little girl asked. I just looked at her and nodded. She shook her head. “That’s okay, you didn’t mean to hurt her. She was already hurt.”\n\nMy life was spent as a spy, a very good yet very solitary spy. A moment talking to anyone was rare. This was peaceful.\n\nThe dog was coming closer and as I reached over to pet it again the girl suddenly grabbed my hand. In a peaceful situation like this it caught me off guard. Her thoughts flooded into my mind quicker and more solidly than an animal’s would.\n\nThis girl was kind hearted. She felt bad for me because she thought I was sick or soft. Or other words that her father would say that she couldn’t repeat. Her father would be angry but she had to make sure that the puppy was okay, her father got angry if the puppy ran away.\n \nThe third puppy in a year. But she didn’t have any others. The bruise on the dog was different from the bruises she had. This girl was strong considering what she had endured. 11 years and her life. It was awful.\n \nMy hand as I sat there in a bit of a daze. We weren’t supposed to get attached. I wasn’t supposed to do anything but my temper was often something that I actually had issues controlling. This girl did not need to be worrying about whether or not I was sick. The real sick one was moving towards us from the path.\n\nHe was considered big for earth standards. Maybe that made it easier for what he did. With his strength there was never a reason for him to be so rough about what he did. There was no way this little thing could defend herself. His face was stern but her reaction to his voice quickly revealed that he wasn’t in a good mood. At that tone the puppy sprinted down the hill further into the large field that was below us.\n\n“The dog is running away again Mary. I told you, you need to keep them from running away. Otherwise it’s going to run away just like the others.” she was still holding my hand when he said that. He noticed and immediately said, “Mary let go of him immediately. He’s filthy.”\n\nThe other puppies never ran away. Mary already knew that. He didn’t know she had woken up and seen it the last time. What he did. \n \nMary had always cried when she got a puppy. They made her so happy and she could actually have a friend but with this puppy she wasn’t crying tears of joy. Mary didn’t want to see her new puppy get hurt again. \n\nI did it without really thinking. My arm lengthened almost instantly and Mary froze when she saw it. my hand turning into a giant claw and grabbing his head. It made a little popping sound when I crushed his skull. The girl saw my arm and went to turn but with my other arm I forcefully grabbed her and made her face me before she looked.\n\nNo reason to see the nightmare that was going to end the one she was already in. As she was looking at me trembling I wasn’t sure I had done the right thing, humans were fragile. Her head was full of fear.\n \n “Don’t look at your father right now. Just go and get your dog okay. Then go find your mother.” I told her. The mother wasn’t exactly innocent. She ignored the issues, the only other person besides myself and the girl who knew what was going on. Or maybe she was just that stupid. It didn’t matter right now I just wanted to try and protect this girl from anymore major harm. \n\nThere were tears in her eyes even though my arm was back to its normal shape. She trembled but slowly trotted down the hill after the dog. From where we were the whole field was within eyeshot. A couple of paserby had grabbed the puppy and were looking around. They were a good distance away.\n \n“Hurry,” I said pointing. “They are looking for you.”\n \nThat was enough to take her mind off me as she quickly ran down the hill after it. \n\nWalking over to the body I shifted my body to that of a female jogger. There were some cops sitting on the bench a little further up. I changed my form to a jogger and began running over to them. \nThey could clear the area and keep the girl from seeing the body. Her mother could come get her and maybe identify the head. \n\nThey didn’t need the girl to see it. \n\nThe number of rules I had broken might ban me from Earth for a few cycles but that was fine. Either way Mary would have been dead by the time I got back.\n" ]	7
	[WP] The voices of your ancestors offering discouragement and terrible life advice to end your family line instead of saving it.	[ "\"You don't want me to come up?\" Jackie said in a vaguely accusatory tone, abruptly pushing back from my arms to frown at me. I could see disappointment, annoyance, and self-doubt flickering back and forth in her eyes and I felt the urge to reach out to her.\n\n\"I just... I think it's a little soon, don't you? I think you're amazing and I just don't want to rush anything,\" I apologized as shyly as I could manage.\n\nI watched her expression closely as it lifted into a sweet smile. \"That's so... gallant of you,\" she cooed, closing the gap between us once more.\n\nThat's not really the correct usage of gallant, came the voice of my 16th great grandfather, James. Is she an idiot?\n\nShe seems way too pretty for you, dear, my paternal grandmother chimed in.\n\n\"Derek, is everything okay?\" Jackie asked me.\n\nI shook my head, hoping to clear the voices from distracting me any further. It had been nearly three months since they had showed up and three months since... other things. I was becoming desperate.\n\n\"Yes, yes, everything is great,\" I said, taking her hands in my own. \"If you don't feel like we are rushing things, I would be delighted to show you my apartment.\"\n\nI still think you should have spent this evening killing yourself, Great Uncle Darrell chimed in.\n\nHe had a not so subtle way of expressing himself.\n\nJackie gave me a sly smile and nodded excitedly, so I gestured her up the front stairs with what I internally hoped was a dashing smile.\n\nThat's a smile only an ancestor could love, my third great aunt, Rosie, said.\n\nI tried and likely failed to keep my expression light as I steered Jackie first into the lobby and then into the vaguely sterile scented elevator. \n\nAs I pressed the button for my floor, Jackie's eyes widened. \"Wow, so high up? I guess we have some time to talk then...\" she said with a playful look on her face. She started to move closer to me.\n\nYou should tell her all about how you're going to ditch your bank account and invest everything you own in gold, my maternal grandfather Morty said.\n\n\"You were literally a Wall Street banker,\" I muttered furiously.\n\n\"I'm sorry?\" Jackie asked, pausing as she was slipping her arms around my neck.\n\n\"Nothing, sorry. I sneezed. Bless me!\" I rambled nervously. Jackie smiled and moved in even closer to kiss me.\n\nI don't think she wants to talk, son, Grandpa James said dryly.\n\nReally? I didn't think she was that obvious, Rosie replied conversationally.\n\nShe was about as subtle as a giant 18th century peppered moth, said my distant cousin Harold.\n\n\"That's not a saying,\" I muttered angrily as Jackie kissed around my jawline.\n\n\"What's that?\" she murmured.\n\n\"Nothing,\" I said quickly. \"Sneezing again. Must be dusty in here.\"\n\nI jumped slightly as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. I took Jackie's hand and led her down to my door, fumbled with my keys, and brought her into my apartment.\n\nI'm just saying, you're on the twenty-third floor. You'd hit the ground real hard. No possible chance of saving you from this height, Great Uncle Darrell chimed.\n\nI shut my eyes tightly and turned to Jackie. \"So, this is my place. I know it's not much, but it offers a pretty great view,\" I told her, nodding over to the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. \n\nA very high up view, you know, Darrell reiterated. \n\n\"It's beautiful,\" she said. \"But I'm more interested in the conversation we were having before...\"\n\nBoy, she really thinks she's subtle, doesn't she? my paternal grandmother said. This is the best you could do for yourself? Oh, honey...\n\nJackie giggled as she made her way over to my couch and took a seat.\n\nDid she just giggle? Rosie asked, disbelief evident in her ghostly \"voice.\"\n\nFighting the urge to roll my eyes, I walked over with as much casualty as I could muster to join her.\n\nShe looked up at me with a smile and started to move her hands up my leg.\n\nNothing is going to happen unless he took like five of those pills, Morty chimed in, to the laughter of all the ancestors currently residing in my head.\n\n\"I'm not impotent!\" I burst out, with sudden and uncontrollable rage.\n\n\"Okay... I think I better go,\" Jackie said hurriedly, grabbing her purse and making her way out the door as if the entire apartment was just declared a nuclear fallout zone.\n\nI collapsed onto the couch as she slammed my front door and cradled my head in my hands. \n\nLookin' pretty down, son, Great Uncle Darrell said casually. You know there's always a way out.\n\nI looked up at the room and sighed. \"You died at the age of one-hundred and three, and only then because someone murdered you.\"\n\nThere was a moment of silence. But boy, if I'd only died sixty-four years earlier when I was your age.\n\n\"I am twenty-seven,\" I said through gritted teeth.\n\nYou are? James asked.\n\nJesus, I didn't lose my hair until I was in my eighties, Rosie said.\n\nWhat twenty-seven year old wears loafers? my paternal grandmother whispered to the others.\n\n\"They-they are comfortable! You know what, I don't need to explain myself to you!\" I shouted and gave a nonsensical yell. \"Why in the world do you guys hate me—and our family—so much that you came back from the dead to haunt me into killing myself and ending our lineage? What in the hell would possess you to do that?!\" I yelled.\n\nThere was a pause. The apartment was strangely silent after my outburst. I looked around expectantly. \"Well?\" \n\n\"Ah, I dunno... You're gettin' pretty fat.\"" ]	1
	[WP] At the age of 10, everyone will receive an item that will one day save their lives. You received a slice of pizza.	[ "I turned 10 two weeks before the day I went to school with Mom. She was finishing up her degree that she had put on hold after my birth. Given it was finals week, she figured the mass of students cramming in the library would allow me to blend in while she finished her finals. I observed the mass of students coming and going from the lengthy steps of the entrance, when a cart started rolling our way. \n\nIt was a small hand cart packed with pizzas. A small gathering followed the cart. Then the strong announcement projected from the students, \"Free Pizza.\" Mom always told me to never eat food from strangers, but it seemed safe with the growing crowd. I counted at least twenty pizza boxes and I made my way towards the cart.\n\n\"David's pizza party,\" students yelled out and waved little poster boards with free pizza on them. When I got closer, I heard the explanation. \"David had so many meal points left on his account. Instead of letting them go to waste, he wanted to treat people to pizza.\" \n\nI knew I would get a free slice and it felt good because my hunger was growing and Mom only left me with a granola bar and a banana. Two student cafe workers, wearing matching magenta dining shirts, were dishing out the pies with gloves onto paper plates.\n\n\"Hey little guy,\" the girl said, grinning, \"Pepperoni or cheese?\" I chose cheese over pepperoni. I thanked David. He was standing next to the cafe workers, greeting all the hungry students with an aura of accomplishment. \n\nIt really was a feat, though. I again sat atop the lengthy steps, eating my pizza, fascinated by the simple sight of food bringing people together.\n\nThe line died when people realized there wasn't going to be enough food and that their tests were to begin in five minutes. The notorious bell started to sing, 2 o'clock. Still one box left and no one was coming up to the cart. \n\nI was still hungry and I figured why not ask for another slice. \"Hey David,\" I said, \"Would it be okay if I have another slice?\" He looked around and nodded his head. \n\nI thanked him again and mentioned how my mother left me hungry, waiting for her to come back. \n\nAfter I ate the second slice, I started to feel tired and sat down in the shady grass outside the library. My head fell into my lap.\n\nI woke up to my mother calling my name, \"Darren,\" she said, \"Let's go. The bus will be here any minute.\" I stood up and saw no sign of the pizza party, I wasn't sure how long I had been napping.\n\nOn the way towards the bus stop, my stomach started rumbling. I had a sudden feeling and I yelled at Mom for a bathroom. I went inside and regretted that second slice of pizza. \n\nAt first, mom was upset. We missed the bus which only came once an hour. But after the bus didn't come back the next hour, she was crying. Mom still had chores to do, as well as finish an essay due online. But, when we found out that the bus we missed would end up being the most tragic accident in our small college town's history, she never made fit of it again.\n\nTurns out a UPS driver fell asleep at the wheel parallel to the city bus. The driver swerved into the bus, pushing it off the freeway into a spinning, fiery doom.\n\nMost of the riders, students, passed away that day.\n\nI never told Mom about the two slices of pizza because I knew she'd get mad either way. She would be mad that I ate food from strangers and got sick, but even more frustrated that disobeying her led something good. " ]	1
	[WP] Everyday one person gets to make a 24 hour rule that the whole world must follow. Today is your day.	[ "The crimson-colored envelope was delivered to my house exactly seven days ago. At first glance, it seemed like any other ordinary envelope but when I touched it inside the mailbox, there was no doubt that it was alive. It's gentle heart beat pulsated through my fingers as I held it.\n\nI knew exactly what it was, as would any other recipient. Everyday, we are subject to a smothering rule that we must abide or else we face an instant death. The rules that come about are as fickle as the creatures making them. They can be beautiful and fulfilling; they can be ugly and heinous; and often times, trivial and pointless. Either way, the impact can be profound.\n\nCertain days stand out more than others, like when Johannes from Sweden decided that everyone must kill a stranger. A large chunk of the population was wiped out within 24 hours and most of the murders were committed with heavy hearts and flowing tears. Requests of opposing nature are seen as well, like the time that Frederick from London wanted the whole world to sit in silence for an hour to honor all those who have died before us. There was an overwhelming feeling that took place that day, and the unified silence traveled across the globe. \n\nTo think that I would get the opportunity during my lifetime is hardly believable, given the odds. I have had a week to decide what I want to do but like most members of the world, the thought has crossed my mind thousands of times. What if... What if it comes to me? We have all dreamed about it but only a few will ever get the chance. So now, with my wife and kids beside me, and the world awaiting anxiously, it was my turn to instantly impact the lives of billions of people.\n\n\"Is it time? Are we going to go through with it?\", my wife nervously asked. The 24 hour rule has been so harsh to her in the past.\n\nI sat there expressionless holding the return envelope that was sent inside the original request. It radiated as it lie on our French mahogany desk. My fingers gripped the pen tightly causing the ends of them to turn white. My hand started to tremble.\n\n\"What's wrong, baby? Why are you so scared?\", my wife asked. \"Why hesitate? You know exactly what needs to be done!\"\n\nI composed myself and let my hand write freely.\n\nTomorrow, December 31st, every person must revolt, with the utmost violence and passion for change, against their government. This rule applies to every human being on earth, except for those within the Western Capital. Do your best!\n\nAs the general of the greatest country on earth, and a man that holds the power of the Imperial Guard, it is my duty to start the world-wide revolution. From there, we will go on the offensive and take advantage of our unique situation. Should everything go accordingly, the Emperor will reign over the entire Earth, and the Western Capital will be the only capital that matters. This is our moment.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You must accept life's Terms of Service in order to be born. A lawyer explains to you the pros and cons.	[ "“Wait… So you’re saying that if I sign this, I get to live. BUT I could easily and accidentally acquire some horrible disease that could knock me out in a few weeks? Maybe a few days even?” I questioned eagerly. \n\nHe stayed silent, his lips a tight line.\n\nI thought it over a bit, and ran through the possible scenarios in my head. Not bad. Decent. Amazing. Shit. Hell yeah.\n\n“Alright, I’m in,” I exclaimed as a shit-eating grin from ear to ear became plastered on my face.\n\n“What?” he questioned. His eyes scanned me as if I were some asinine fool, which I am not.\n\n“Yeah, I’m gonna sign.”\n\n“But… You heard the most horrible things about the plan… You know some people don’t ever come back. And you still want to sign? Are you sure?”\n\nI sighed. Don’t question me, you idiot, I thought. I know people are advised against this, but I don’t care. And I want it. Oh boy, do I want it.\n\n“Give me the damn paper,” I ordered.\n\nConfused and appalled, he handed over the sturdy packet, and I signed on every X he marked. I almost had to stop myself from laughing hysterically and crying tears of joy. I was as giddy as a child. And as a child, I was never giddy. \n\nI left the room, practically jumping with joy. Yes, YES, I exclaimed in my mind. Finally a chance to die!** \n\nYour head probably just cocked to the side, and perhaps you knitted your eyebrows perplexedly. Yes, you read that correctly - I do, in fact, want to die. Why, you may ask? Well let’s play a little game. I’ll make a list of all the reasons you think people would crave death, and you’ll pick the one you think I am facing. Deal? Deal!\n\na) I often wonder what it is like. To experience eternal nothingness. To float into the abyss without a care in the world. Oh yes, that sweet, sweet, nothingness. I adore the idea of it. It seems quite entertaining, frankly. No job, no school, no idiot fucking husband, no more anxiety, and no idiot fucking daughter. I would have no problem abdicating everything I have right now if it meant I could experience pure tranquility for… well, for forever. But I’m mainly just curious about what death is like. Escaping everything else is just the cherry on top, the fries on the side. \nb) I fucked up - bigtime. Like an incredibly massive mistake that will most definitely ruin my life if anyone were to discover the despicable thing I did, I would be fucked for life. This impetuous error would rip the life I have now to shreds (I would have to watch it perish right before my very eyes, the ashes falling through my fingers hitting the floor as my eyes well with tears.) - and I just cannot afford that, not after how fucking hard I’ve worked. \nc) I’m just really fucking sick of this. By this, I mean everything. Absolutely anything and everything gets on my nerves and makes me feel like shit. I can barely remember the last time I actually wanted to do something! I can barely remember the last time that getting out of bed was easy, nevertheless something I fucking wanted to do. I’m just… I’m over this, and I want out of it more than I have ever wanted anything in my entire life.\nd)I am living a lie. I have not-so-accidentally created a very, very fake persona which has only recently started to fuck me over. It was fine in the beginning, even a tad fun. But, no one realizes how difficult it is to keep up with it. Society marvels over actors due to how they can successfully be someone else realistically, but playing a part in your real life? Doesn’t sound too appealing, does it? It is one of the most exhausting things I have ever experienced in all of my years of living. \n\nOkay. Take your pick.\n\nYeah, it’s C.\n\nI’m completely done with the horrid life I have been forced to endure so far, and perhaps something will kill me in this new life and end it all. Sounds depressing to some, glorious to others. Glorious to people who are depressed. \n\nNow, what does it mean to be depressed? Well the textbook definition of depression goes as follows: A mental health disorder characterized by persistently depressed mood or loss of interest in activities, causing significant impairment in daily life. And yeah, that sums it up pretty well. But what they cease to mention is how depression attacks you like a parasite and sucks every particle of motivation or joyousness out of every damn cell and leaves you dead. On the floor. In tears. With absolutely nowhere to go and no desire whatsoever to do anything. \n\nWhenever people would ask what depression felt like, I would tell them that there is absolutely NO good part of it that companies would use to advertise it on TV during those ads that run at 2 AM. Nothing to exploit, nothing to benefit from. Depression is so fucking toxic that not even corporate America wants to be part of it. And corporate America is pretty damn thirsty, if you ask me. \n\nBottom line, there’s no way around it. I’ve tried it all: medications, therapy, exercise, animals, dieting, meditation, etc. I’ve tried everything in the book and dying still seems like the best option. I’ve isolated myself from everyone I know the past few months just to take a little time for myself. Some would call it “me time,” but I prefer to stray away from bullshit euphemisms and be realistic, so I’ll call it “I feel like absolute shit and have no idea what to do about it, so I’ll just isolate myself from everyone and sulk in my misery while tell people that I’m taking some time for myself when in reality I just want someone to notice how fucking horrible I feel.” So I’ve kind of lost everyone. Frankly, if I think that I came crawling back to them and shed a few tears about my atrocious emotions and suicidal thoughts, they would open the door to their lives and let me right in. But, do they want me there? Yeah, I know, it’s the depression talking. But c’mon, it’s a fair thing to question. Would these people have been so okay with me isolating myself so casually if they actually gave a shit? Not a single one of them even attempted to pull me back in. They just let me sit there, rotting. And I’m fucking sick of that. I’m sick of thinking of that. I’m sick of that thought torturing me. \n\nSo I’ve found a solution, and I’m going through with it. It’s a bit complicated, but they’re going to put me into the real world, and I’m going to find a way to fucking die. This whole immortality forever bullshit is not working for me, because it’s not as magical as the books and films make it out to be, and I’m still depressed. I’ve done my time in this place, and I can finally end that chapter in my book. \n\n\n\n", "‘Okay, so I’ll go over this with you again.’\n\nThe man in front of you flips with his ink-stained fingers through his papers. \n\n‘Ah, here it is. Terms and Conditions.’\n\nHe offers you a brandy but you politely decline. He props his feet on his large oak desk before he continues.\n\n‘So, I presume you’ve heard most of this already, but I’ll explain it to you just to be sure, okay? Just to cover the small letters, don’t want them to surprise you...’\n\nHe hands you a richly decorated parchment containing large handwritten letters. You quickly scan it with your eyes before looking up again.\nYou shall not harm or kill another human being\nYou shall not harm or kill another organism, may it belong to the kingdom of Plants or the kingdom of Animalia\n\n‘Okay, so terms. Try not to harm or kill another human being, well… just try harder this time and you’ll be fine. And that second one, yeah, we kind of gave up on that, but if you try it can give you extra credits so it might be worth a shot.’\n\nYou nod.\n\n‘Those two are the most important, the other ones don’t matter that much and speak for themselves, really. Quite straightforward. Might be wise to go through the small letters now, yeah?’\n\nHe points at the microscopic scribbling at the bottom of the parchment. Then he hands you a large magnifying glass that you have to hold with both your hands. \n\n‘Might need that,’ he chuckles.\n\nThe form and condition in which you return are completely the result of your own actions and accomplishments. The Other Side Inc. does not carry any responsibility in any way for your personal situation, and cannot be held responsible under any circumstance. The Other Side Inc. has the right to document every of your actions and thoughts and can use these against you when you return. \n\n‘That isn’t a surprise either, right?’ He smiles.\n\n‘Okay, time to sign the contract, you sure you want to go through with this?’\n\nYou nod again.\n\n‘Yeah, of course you are.’\n\nHe hands you a sharp quill made of a golden feather, and you sign the parchment with red ink.\n\n‘It was nice doing business with you again,’ he says while he shakes your hand. Just when you’re about to leave his office, he makes one last remark.\n\n‘Oh, and one more thing. Last time you came back I had to pull all my strings to keep you from returning like a bug or something, so please try not to cause another world war while you’re down there, because I don’t think I can bail you out this time. Good luck!’\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You wake up on a deserted island with three familiar objects in front of you. The last thing that you remember is playing a game with your friends where you name 3 things you would take on a deserted island.	[ " My entire life is changed, at least I have a remnant of my old life with me. I don't miss much other things since they'd probably just give me bad memories and the games I liked to play were mostly survival horror... I already survived a horror so I don't need to play one. I have nightmares a lot of nights and sometimes I end up drinking... not a lot but enough to forget, unfortunately if I fall asleep while drinking the nightmares just become worse. Every time I hear a dog bark I end up jumping and having flashbacks along with my leg becoming slightly sore.\n\n It began after a night at the bar, I was with friends I hadn't seen in a while and we were drinking. Eventually the conversation got to the desert island one, at first I said a gun cause I knew I wouldn't survive in my body. I was pretty unhealthy and wasn't that fit so I knew my survival odds were really low. Someone nearby asked me what I'd do if I was fit or could make that one of the items. I told them if I could make that an item I'd have to have the perfect body that's really different from mine, a first aid kit, and probably some matches. \n\n That night I went to my apartment and fell asleep on my couch. When I woke up I felt really weird... my body's sense of where everything was felt completely off. I felt cold and was laying on some cold rock and my clothes felt like they weren't my own. I stood up feeling groggy and looked down at myself, my body wasn't my own... it wasn't even remotely like mine. Mostly since I couldn't see my stomach past my chest and I could feel long hair in a ponytail touching my back. At my feet was a box of matches and a first aid kit, I bent over to pick them up and could tell my body was definitely fit since I could bend over perfectly. \n\n After making a fire I was doing some bending and stretching to find out how fit I was. I found out I was pretty fit so I [sat next to the fire](http://stuffpoint.com/lara-croft-tombraider/image/425385-lara-croft-tombraider-tomb-raider-gif-7.gif) and thought about what to do, it felt like a dream at first... a really vivid dream. A few minutes went by so I decided to look around the island. While walking I saw a body hanging and went to look at it. It was in a trap so I was careful where I walked, I didn't have a knife so I had to untie the makeshift rope. It wasn't actual rope it was like vines mixed with something. \n\n The body fell in front of me and there was a makeshift bow with a few arrows on it, nothing other than that on the decaying body. I took the bow and arrows then [pointed it at a noise I heard](http://cdn4.spiegel.de/images/image-468613-860_poster_16x9-nfad-468613.jpg) which turned out to be a deer. In my past I had some training with a bow and arrow, I wasn't a marksman but I got pretty good at shooting across a room with a few really good shots. The deer was close enough so I shot the arrow and it hit the deer in the front leg, I was aiming at the neck but I missed. It tried to run but fell down a hill and was laying on its side... I felt so bad since it looked painful. I [walked up to it](http://tombraiders.net/stella/walks/TR9walk/screenshots/coastal-forest-14.jpg) and looked down at the deer. \n\n It looked in pain so I killed it by using an arrow then put a hand on it until it stopped moving, I never actually killed anything like that before. I [kneeled down](http://simhq.com/forum/files/usergals/2013/03/full-2425-52943-tombraider_2013_03_07_22_28_52_645.jpg) until I was ready to get the deer to the fire... I was fit but the deer was still really heavy. The fire I had was in a cave and couldn't spread so I [made a fire by the deer](http://dmcdevilmaycry.ru/files/2013/03/tombraider2013pc-screenshots-01.jpg) then dragged it closer to get ready to cook some of the meat. After I cooked and ate some of the meat I rested for a second wondering what I'd do with my time on the island. While I was walking around the fire I heard a growl and turned to see a wolf, my bow and arrow was a few yards away so I tried to run to it. \n\n Before I could reach the bow the wolf [bit my leg](http://www.unfinishedman.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/tomb-raider-lara-croft-dog-bite-1024x576.jpg) and it hurt so bad. I screamed and reached for something and got an arrow, when I tried to stab its eye it jumped on me and bit my arm that wasn't holding the arrow. It scratched my head and that's when I stabbed through its neck and kept on stabbing it. The wolf was bleeding out so I tried to get up but my leg hurt so bad it made me tear up a little. I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk through the pain, the wolf was still moving so I limped to the bow and arrows and put them on my back. After I had everything I limped behind a rock hearing the wolf make pained noises but it wasn't going away. \n\n While I stood there I could feel the blood flowing out of my leg and arm along with some on my head. I [peeked behind the rock](http://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/31000000/Lara-tomb-raider-reboot-31013136-495-341.gif) to see the wolf laying by the fire with its eyes blinking slowly. Seeing it like that didn't make me as pissed at it... it made me realize it just wanted food... basically I was the deer in this scenario. I limped back over to the wolf and killed it fast, it was more meat for my win in the the fight. My leg was still bleeding so I needed to stop the bleeding, I looked at the fire and sighed knowing what I was gonna do was gonna hurt. I heard just burning it would be bad so I took an arrow head and heated it, I also tore the clothes away that were cut to expose the wound. The wound was sealed using two to three second bursts of putting the heated arrow head on the wound. \n\n By the time it was over I had some tears and I was still in pain, I had to work on my arm too. After everything was done I put some alcohol on the wounds and made pained noises while closing my eyes tight. Everything needed to be covered so I [wrapped the wounds](http://www.animatedimages.org/data/media/1308/animated-lara-croft-image-0005.gif) and passed out by the fire. I woke up from a nightmare and only a small amount of sleep then [walked away from the fire limping](http://38.media.tumblr.com/d6298e85634e14cf243a480390382c85/tumblr_n8mdgtcQfU1qmert6o1_250.gif) to get to the deer to cook some more meat. If I knew how to make jerky I would've but I barely knew how to cook the meat normally.\n\n For a few days I stayed by the fire and ate the animals I had, I also kept the bones and antlers incase I could sharpen them or something. I wasn't ok to run but after the few days I was capable of walking slowly, I decided to explore since I was capable of somewhat normal movement. There was a cave so I went inside with a torch and [walked around](https://balazsfarkas.files.wordpress.com/2013/03/tr1.jpg?w=1400) seeing what was there. There was a setup that looked like it was probably made by the hanging guy, I saw a few spiders but that fear left and was replaced by one of wolves. \n\n I found a mirror and [stared for a second](https://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/laracroft/images/2/2e/Lara_Mirror_Aftermath.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20160211015909) realizing who I was... it later turned out I wasn't fully who I thought I was but it seemed like it for a bit. While I was looking through things I found a walkie talkie... it had no reception but I later found out it was able to communicate with nearby things... it'd help if a ship went by. When I got back out of the cave it was raining so I got the things I had and went back into the cave to make a shelter there. While I was outside I luckily got [most of the dirt and blood washed off me](http://www.quartertothree.com/fp/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/LC3.jpg) so I basically got a light shower.\n\nPart 1" ]	1

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