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 have the ability to save someone in exchange for another person that is of higher importance than the first person. One day, a man contacts you telling you thar you have to save the most important person in the world	[ "Years of work. Of secrecy. Of death. Controversial as it may seems, I always chose to sacrifice important people of low moral standards. It allowed for some good changes in politics, my community and all that. Old, greedy politicians for kind, honest ones. School directors who raped their students for the lives of lab rats. Racist police officers for active kids in the community. But I tried to work in the shadows, so I don't know how they learned about me.\n\nBut that's irrelevant. They've tasked me to do it or else I'd never see Sun again. That I would never feel that warm embrace again.\n\nThey were threatening me with the only reason I still lived in this world, why I woke up and got out of bed each day. Why I was doing this.\n\nI had to do it. My life dependend on it.\n\nBut they wanted me to save the god damn prime minister of the fucking Unified Nations of Earth. Ever since he united us against the Hayeild treath back in 37\", he kept been reelected. And for damn good reasons, too. After the Hayeild annihilated the 23 colonies of Mars within a month, he managed to stop the bickering nations and rally them. Shit, he saved 11 billion lives. Who could possibly be more important than that?\n\nNormally, I only have to focus on who I want to die and who I want to live. But in my first times of using my power I found out I only needed to think about who I wanted alive... those deaths still haunt me to this day.\n\nSo I went up to the PM. He seemed like a shell of who he once was. Cancer had got him, and got him good.\n\nI didn't think this would work, but... I guess miracles do happen! And an hour passed an my feed didn't say anything about any important world leader dying. What if I didn't need sacrifices anymore? Did I have power over both life and death and just now realized how to use my powers corectly? All I knew is that they gave me the biggest paycheck I had ever seen. When I got off the plane to get back home, I felt good. It was sunny, shiny and bright! This made me want to bring flowers back home. Only had to plant some, Sun would take care of the rest.\n\nBut when I got home, I realized I never understood my power.\n\nI dropped my flower pots on the floor, breaking them in as much pieces as my heart.\n\nI realized my power never took the lives of the people that were more important than the ones I saved. It took the lives of those I thought were more important than the ones I saved.\n\nAnd this is how my wife, my sunshine, my reason to live, my dear Sun died. I would never feel her tender smiles, her warm hugs, that strong sense of right and wrong, over which I chose what lives to take, which one to save. She was 7 pregnant with our daugter. Oh god.\n\nI had killed them, they died because I thought I could decide the date of others\n\nI dropped on my knee and puked. The carcasses of my family were left alone for days. They were rotting\n\nOnly had one thing I could do...\n\nSee if my powers work when I think of someone who deserves to die. No matter who gets to live.\n\n\nI then chose a serial killer... a man who had just murdered his family... " ]	1
	[WP] Tell me an original horror story so scary that I will have trouble falling asleep tonight.	[ "A hand patted me on the shoulder. I look up, and see the face of my superior looking down at me.\n\nHis expression was neutral, but there was an air of gravity around him that I couldn't help but notice.\n\n\"Could you come to my office at break?\" he said before walking away.", "\"Son, are you sure that you're old enough? Your mother won't be happy if I scare you.\"\n\n\"Please, Daddy!\"\n\n\"Alright, alright. Just be quiet until I'm done. But... I'm not to sure what I should tell you about. Maybe I'll start off with something easy, like spiders. Very few people like spiders. They could crawl anywhere, their webs are so sticky you might never get them off. Some are so small you won't spot them until it's too late, others are as big as puppies! Many could kill you with a single bite. And that little pose they do when they die, grown-ups call it 'rigor mortis,' is just the worst!\n\n...No, no, spiders are too predictable. Closets? Yeah, those are scaaary too, right? After all, a ghost could be hiding in there and you'll never see them coming. Who knows how the door just opened? Who knows what may be watching you tonight? What about under your bed? How could you possibly know that there's not a ghost waiting under there to drag you down by the feet the moment you get up to go potty?\"\n\n\"Daddy-\"\n\n\"I told you be wait until I'm finished! Let's talk about the dark! You know how you have to wait to see? How you're blind for a little bit? Well, you can feel safe knowing that nothing will get you while you can't see. It'll wait for your eyes to adjust. Then, you know, maybe a tap at your shoulder, a few whispers, and RAAAAAAR! Last thing you see is a bloody monster opening it's mouth and jumping out at you!\n\nI'm sure that doesn't sound too bad to you. You have a nightlight. But, hey, not everything needs to hide out in the dark. They just let you believe that light is going to help. Like killers. People who kill someone because they like it. You hear about them on the news. It'd be impossible to pick them out from the innocent people. Someone could just kill you! You'd be a corpse! Like that!\"\n\n\"Daddy! Stop! I don't even know what a corpse looks like!\"\n\n\"Oh? Well, then, I have a solution. Why don't you go peek in your parents' bedroom? Be quiet, they're sleeping. \"\n\n\"It's your bedroom too, Daddy.\"\n\n\"No. It isn't.\"", "Your wife gives birth to a beautiful child. After a year of no sleep and countless late night feedings, your baby is finally sleeping through the night. You lay down for what's sure to be a great night sleep. All of a sudden your wife comes out of the bathroom pale as a ghost!!! \"I'm pregnant\" ", "I can hear them sceaming, begging me to help them. I screw my eyes shut as though it will shut my ears too. I'd clap my hands over my ears, but I can't let go of the handle. I can't let it out. I can't.\n\nThe screams are louder now. They're telling me they have families. That they have to see their children. Maybe we could all get out together, outrun it and somehow all fit in the life raft. My hands don't budge. \n\nIf I let it out, it'll just pick us off one by one. Maybe one of them would reach safety. Hell, maybe I'd reach safety. But I know better. The only way out of this is to hope that it will be sated, if only for a moment, by that mother behind the door. That brother. That sobbing child.\n\nThe screams reach a new sense of urgency. It's here, oh god, it's here. What is my life worth compared to theirs? What are any of our lives worth? A few more decades marching towards the inevitable? We're all either withered corpses now or withered corpses later. We'll all die, children and parents and lovers and killers. I'm killing them. What's the point?\n\nThe screams have stopped. I can hear a wet sound beyond the door. Drip. Drip. Drip. Blood drops hitting the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. I should run. This is my chance. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound is on the door. Oh god. No, please. Tap. Tap. Tap.\n\nI'm sprinting. I don't know where I am. It's so dark and I don't know where I'm going. Oh god. Oh god. Drip. Drip. Drip. No, it can't be. No no no no. Drip. Drip. Drip. Please, no. Tap. Tap. Tap. I'm sorry.\n\nTap. Tap. Tap.", "I don't want you to believe this story, though I also feel like it's important for me to tell you that it's all true.\n\nI used to work at an old pub in London. It was built with a victorian edge, thick walls and a deep cellar. I absolutely adored that place, I made my first friends in a new city there and learned a trade I would use for many years to come.\n\nI'm a writer, unless you couldn't tell, so the late hours of work with early mornings to write were good for me. After asking for this, I moved up to management and closed the pub myself most nights. Sitting there in the dark, feeling the energy of the evening had given rise to some of my favourite works.\n\nOne night, the last night I worked there, was the worst night of my life.\n\nBehind the bar, we'd always joked that the place was haunted because people would constantly lose things. No duh, you lost your phone jackass, you're drunk as a skunk. It was on that warm, summer evening that I truly believed what I had only joked about.\n\nClosing down the cellar of a pub is an interesting thing if you've never done it. Down some stairs, passed a small office and into the keg-room. A cooled room with a hatch for deliveries and pins and kegs with pumps to the bar upstairs.\n\nAt the end of the night, moving those fucking barrels can be a real bitch and we'd got through a lot of it that night. I probably had to move at least a few tonnes to create more room for the new beers the next day.\n\nAmateur move, I remembered that I had to get something from the chemical room a little deeper in the cellar and dragged my tired ass in.\n\nThe second I was in that door, the air-conditioner turned on. Then off. Then on again. It did this for as long as I froze without moving because I'm a giant baby. I had already closed the door and was completely freaking out but able to convince my screaming brain that it was just the AC bugging out.\n\nAs if in agreement, the activity in the keg-room stopped and I breathed my first breath in at least a minute. The reprieve was brief. All of a sudden, a ridiculously loud noise erupted from the other side of the door and caused me to whimper out loud. Not that it would have been heard.\n\nI threw my back against the door and prayed that whatever was going on just passed me by. The metal on metal on stone sound continued, like ancient gears rumbling, for about 20 seconds. I stayed silent and still for more like thirty minutes.\n\nDeciding that enough was enough, or maybe just affected by the chemical fumes, I stood up and threw the door open. My skin crawled in a different, less adrenaline-coursing fear than before. The barrels and kegs that had been such a bitch to move into place now blocked my way out completely.\n\nIt couldn't have been done by a human, not really. At the time, I didn't even pause to think, I just started getting what I could out of the way. I was tired but frantic so it took probably ten minutes to move the beer out of the way and sprint out of the building.\n\nI never looked back, but I will probably always wonder. I'll wonder what could have moved those barrels like that. Why it had the intelligence to arrange them in front of the door. Mostly I'll wonder if it watched me clawing and crying, trying to leave after it had locked me in.", "The first night it happened, I barely noticed it. \nThe second night it happened, there was something. Not enough to tell a friend but enough to notice. \nThe third night it happened, it was enough to tell a friend. Not enough to file a police report, but enough to mention. \n\n\"Y'know when I woke up this morning, my window was open. But i swear when i went to bed, it was closed.\" I said to Alisa on day four. \nShe didn't look up from her phone as she shrugged her shoulders, \"Catch is probably broken.\" \nThe seventh night, that thought came back to me. Maybe the catch was broken. On the morning of the 8th, the window was open; wide open. The radio was knocked over and there was a smashed glass. \n\"Probably a stray cat.\" \n\nYeah....Probably a stray cat. Probably a stray cat that was watching me on a daily basis; that I could hear walking through the park behind me on my jog; that was moving my furniture just a little bit each night; that was making the hairs on my neck stand up every single time it hit 9pm and i thought about heading to bed.\n \nIt was probably just a cat, but I called out a handyman anyway. And although he checked the windows three times; there was nothing to fix. He suggested replacing them with windows that locked, and that was all he had to say.\nOn the 15th, the day before my 24th birthday, I heard it. 10:03pm, a clicking noise. It was followed by soft footsteps; familiar. They crossed the hallway outside the door and stopped. \nIt wasn't like a horror movie. There was no shadow of light that was blocked by a figure. Because at 24; you don't sleep with the lights on. Damn, I wish I did. \n\nThe door was nudged ever so slightly in the dark, and a sharp creak gave it away. A hand grabbed the handle, silencing the noise so the only sound was a heavy breathing coming from under the sheets. \n\"It's just a stray cat\" she repeated over, and over in her \nhead, no sound coming from the doorway. She had almost convinced herself it was a bad dream; that she really was making the whole thing up, when she felt a dip in the mattress beside her. The sheets moved, and one strong arm wrapped around her waist. She caught a glimpse at the clock: 12:02am. \nThe arm dragged her into a strong, leather clad chest and tightened. She didn't try and pull away; she'd tried that before and it didn't do anything but anger. She froze as gloved fingers moved her blonde hair back behind her ear, and a mouth followed it, pausing to whisper, \"Happy Birthday darlin'.\" \n\nShe closed her eyes tighter, seeing spots behind them as she whispered \"It's just a stray cat; it's just a stray cat; it's just a stray cat...\"" ]	6
	[WP] A man has the super power to cause anyone to become addicted to something of his choosing	[ "It started as a normal day. I went on my morning jog. I only saw one person the whole time. I thought he was a normal man, but he began to stare at me. Soon it was unnerving. I was about to say something when I was completely overwhelmed with an incredible sensation. I needed to know more about cork. Forgetting the man, I sprinted home.\n\nSome internet research told me that cork is impermeable, buoyant, elastic, and fire retardant. I then completely understood that cork is the ultimate material, and I set out to ensure the fact was known to the whole world.", "He was determined to show off his new-found skill. With a snap of his fingers, Harold could make anyone, regardless of sex, age, or creed, addicted to anything. Last week, he had gotten his mother-in-law, Barbara, addicted to speaking in a Jamaican accent. Harold had a giggled to himself while remembering her unusual exchange with the delivery man. \n\n“A who dat at a beat down di door,” Barbara exclaimed while unsuccessfully peeking through the curtains. \n\n“Morning, I believe I have a package for a, uh, Ms. Barbaba Scott,” the delivery man retorted.\n\n“Oh, come mon, come. A mi Victoria Secret nightie dem come. Boy, dem take long fi ship dem though. Nearly make me miss John birthday.” Barbara went on blabbering as the delivery man’s face slid from one hue to the next.\n\nHarold had no idea how he developed such an amusing super power. Neither did he care. He craved another victim, but not just any old victim. He was obdurate that it would be another member of his wife’s family. This time, he wanted to bring his wife in on the fun.\n\n“Oh Amy,” Harold gleefully sang to harken his wife into the room.\n\n“Harold, I am not watching that bloody Game of Thrones again with you,” Amy sneered while busily preparing herself for bed. \n\n“I don’t need to my darling. I’ll get your father to join me right now for the marathon with a snap of my finger”.\n\n“Harold, don’t be ridiculous. You know my father is the most conservative hard nosed Christian you’ve ever met. He’ll hate it.” Amy gargled and spat out the water before going off again.\n\n“And even if he did, he’s all the way in Jacksonville. Mom is leaving tomorrow to celebrate his ...”\n\nHarold snapped his finger.\n\nHer face was motionless. “Dad, what are you doing. How did you …”\n\n“Hey, Pumpkin. Join us,” John patted and motioned his daughter to join himself and Harold in bed as Daenerys Targaryen emerging glisteningly naked from the fire.\n\n [part two](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/6njgqy/wp_you_are_a_writer_you_write_a_story_with_a/dka6bue/)" ]	2
	[WP] It your 21st birthday party and your Uncle tells you that your parents have made back up copies of you regularly since you were born. They have rolled you back at least once when they didn't like how you were growing up. Your Uncle gives you access.	[ "Seeing all those old versions of me...it was more real than the sepia-coloured photographs in my photo album. To see myself playing while young was like seeing a totally different me; a more carefree, happy and energetic me. At 21 I was already exposed to the dangers and troubles of the world, so I envied the youthful exuberance and innocence I used to have. As I flipped through the saved copies, I noticed one marked 'Deleted', but not permanently removed yet. Curious, I looked at the copy.\n\nI saw myself coming home from school, my parents waiting as always with my lunch. But as I tucked in, I said a sentence I didn't understand. \"Mommy, I found a camera under my bed last night.\" My mother's face...I had never seen so much raw shock on a human face before.\n\nAnd that was it.\n\nI turned away, as I tried to recall that day. I never remembered a camera. But since the copy was deleted, they must have replaced it with another copy and another set of memories.\n\nWhich meant...the camera wasn't there after they rolled me back.\n\nI was so engrossed in the mystery that I didn't hear the door opening behind. I shouldn't have left the file containing the copies open. It was supposed to be top secret, my uncle said.\n\nBut as I felt a hand on my shoulder, the accompanying voice wasn't the usual soothing tones of my father. It was the dangerous, cold voice of an angered man.\n\n\"I guess I'll have to delete this copy too, then.\" He took a button out of his pocket and pressed it.\n______________________________\nMore over at r/Whale62! Sequels at popular request!" ]	1
	[WP] "Doesn't anyone just knock anymore? All you had to do was knock and I would've opened it!"	[ "Bang! \nThe kicked door came off its hinges and slammed onto the floor. Not satisfied with that indignity, the kicker and his colleagues ran in, trampling the abused portal. \n\"Freeze, Scum! F.B...i...\" the kicker's righteous shout trailed off as he processed the scene in front of him. \n \nSeated around a coffee table on various soft furnishings were heavily armed men, emblazoned with the word SWAT. Each held a small china mug, filled from the large teapot in the centre of the table, and a vague air of embarrassment. \n\"Oh dear!\" A quiet female voice exclaimed at the door kicker's elbow. \"I just had that fixed.\" The man looked down to find a frail old lady staring at her front hall in dismay. She turned to the man. \"Doesn't anyone knock anymore? All you had to do was knock, and I'd've let you in!\" \nAs his men began to mumble apologies, the door kicker tried to recover the situation. \n\"Madam, I'm Agent Fielder of the FBI and we have...\" \n\"Are you after Johnny as well?\" Agent Fielder blinked at the interruption. The old woman wittered on. \"Such a nice young man. He set up my computer, you know. And he doesn't kick down doors.\" She gave him a piercing stare. \n\"Umm...\" \n\"Wipes his feet as well.\" Her withering glare passed over the other agents, who continued mumbling apologies and began to dust down the abused door. \n \n\"Agent Fielder.\" The leader of the SWAT team had come over. \"His apartment's next door. But Marco's gone.\" Agent Fielder cursed. Johnny Marco was a big fish and had eluded the agency for years. To be so close... \nSlap! Pain flared across his knuckles, and he yelped. \n\"Language, young man!\" The old lady wagged a finger at him. \"I won't have cursing in my house.\" \n\"I'm... sorry?\" Agent Fielder felt adrift. It didn't help that his men were either busy reattaching the door to its hinges, or had shuffled into the living room and grabbed a spare cup of tea. \n\"That's alright, dear.\" The old lady smiled at him. \"Won't you stay and have a cup of tea?\" \n\"Apologies, madam, but...\" \n\"I said won't you stay and have a cup of tea with an old lady?\" As everyone frowned at his impolite behaviour, Agent Fielder gave up. \n\"Um, yes, thank you.\" \n\"No problem, dear.\" He felt himself led to a seat. \"Have a biscuit as well. Just the one though.\" He nodded, taking just the one biscuit. All in all, Agent Fielder really wished he had knocked. \n \n \n \nknock knock. \n\"Oh! Hello, dear.\" Johnny smiled down at his neighbour as she answered the door. \n\"Hello Mavis. Anything I can help you with?\" \n\"Oh no, dear.\" She smiled and shook her head. \"Not at thd moment; I have some friends over for tea.\" \n\"Fair enough. Call me if you need me.\" Johnny waved as she shut the door, before turning and opening his apartment door. \nBehind the door, Mavis smiled. \n\"Such a nice young man.\" She muttered, before returning to her law enforcement guests." ]	1
	[WP] You're a superhero, living in a post-apocalyptic society. It's too late to save the world, but you don't know what else to do.	[ "Those with super powers have become pariah in what is left of society. Hated, disparaged and left to fend for themselves. Even so, I can't really blame them. After all, it was those with the ability to do so who destroyed the world in the first place.\n\nNearly every single superhero and villain alike perished in that massive war, and what is left of humanity is just destroyed cities, flattened landscapes and irradiated wastelands.\n\nMostly the first, thankfully.\n\nNobody knows what the world population is now, but it is probably under a million. Too many innocent lives were lost. If you ask me who won that war, the heroes technically did. But with the price that it cost? The villains definitely achieved their goal of annihilating society.\n\nSo that leaves me, a superhero, and therefore one of those at fault, trudging along this desolate road in the middle of Singapore. Not a single soul in sight, with no supplies to be seen.\n\nThe buildings were all collapsed, or about to. Corpses still littered the streets, some preserved due to some perverse fusion of magic from abilities, others stripped to the bone by scavenging animals. At least it didn't smell horrible. Or maybe it did, but I was completely desensitized to it if that were the case.\n\nThe sun was starting to set in the distant horizon, as clouds covered the sky. The silence save for the sound of rats fleeing and my footsteps were rather strange, but it was a sound I got accustomed too.\n\nFending for myself is hard despite the ability I have. I could always just find a settlement and threaten them to surrender, but I don't really have the heart for it. I know some \"heroes\" run settlements now. They usually don't last long. People would sooner kill themselves than cooperate with such a disgusting being.\n\nIt didn't matter what your intentions are. So long you had an ability, you were abnormal. You were not meant to be.\n\nMy stomach growls. I had not eaten for two days now... At least I have an unending supply of water in the form of my ability. I can collect water, in whatever form it may take, and use it as a means of offense, defense or just for drinking.\n\nI look to the sky and sigh. I was once optimistic, and cared more about others than myself. Now, I have no one left. I wanted to believe in humanity, that there was a greater good. But the greater good turned out to be just as bad.\n\nThere wasn't even a bird I could try to kill and eat. Rats weren't an option unless I wanted to die from some kind of illness. I decided to call my hunt for supplies over for now, and with a wave of my hand, I gathered the water vapor in the air and condensed it into a ball of pure liquid. I drank a little bit for myself, and poured the rest into a container that I retrieved from my bag.\n\nI placed it on the ground, and left it for the next soul to travel down this lonely road. I just need to find shelter for now, until the night passes.\n\nFor now... all I can do is survive.\n\n\n------------------\n\n(Hope you enjoyed.)", "He held the old, useless glasses in his hand as he stared out over the barren wastes. He let his eyes wander across the emptiness. In the distance, he could see the beginnings of a dust storm, where the coast once stood. Many years ago, he had stood at that coast, considering the future, thinking that nothing could go wrong.\n\nHe shook his head, finally rising from the boulder he had called his home these last few years. Rocks and dust cracked and fell off of him, revealing the blue and red suit beneath. Long ago, he and his allies had designed the suit to withstand being within meters of the sun- Of course it still survived. He sighed, his first breath in ten years, and immediately doubled over coughing. His lungs weren't used to use, let alone the dust and dirt he had disturbed by moving. For a moment, he considered the irony if, at long last, what killed him was nothing more than a little dust an his own mistakes.\n\nOf course, a man like him is never quite that lucky. Seconds passed, and he could feel his regeneration working to repair the damage, and he knew he would be fine. He sighed again, strongly this time, and looked into the horizon once more. He knelt for a moment, and silently leapt into the air, the gentle wind left in his wake seemingly inconsistent with the miles into the air he travelled in mere moments. He had spent his second century on this desolate world mastering his abilities, after all, and he had no need of theatrics where the population was him, and him alone.\n\nAs he reached the crux of his leap, he glanced down, and did not fall, instead moving forward at an astounding pace. He did not bother to study the world around him. He had memorized the surface of the planet long ago, in the fifth century of his isolation. Now, he flew to escape his thoughts, to escape the lines and the memories, and everything else that kept him here. Perhaps, he thought idly to himself, my next century will be spent flying.\n\nThen he saw that something had changed.\n\nNothing changes.\n\nIn an instant, he was at the site of the disturbance- A small machine, with design sensibilities reminiscent of humanity. It was active, and of course, the camera was pointed directly at him. He scowled. Eighteen centuries, and still the humans search for him. Of course they did.\n\n\"Leave-\" He coughed. His voice was weak. The last time he spoke was... The sixth century? Super-healing, though, was incredibly when prompted. When he spoke again, it was with strength. \"Leave me be, whoever you are. I am no blessing. I am a curse.\"\n\n\"You're also our only hope.\" The former hero and self-declared curse froze. The voice he heard...\n\n\"You should be dead, John. Dead, a million years past.\" He turned towards the newcomer. The man smirked, crossing his arms. Compared to the dull browns and reds the former hero had been exposed to over the last 18 centuries, the bright emerald color of the man's uniform was almost blinding.\n\n\"They weren't done with me, and the universe isn't done with you, Cl-\"\n\n\"Don't,\" he growled, suddenly mere inches from the other man's face. \"Don't you dare call me that. I lost the right to that name when this happened.\" He motioned around him at the desolate planet.\n\nThe soldier and the exile regarded one another for a moment, before the soldier nodded slowly. \"You're right. You did. But you know what? Get over yourself.\" He scowled, ignoring the surprise in his old friend's expression. \"It's been aeons since your choice. Do you know how many times we could've used you? How many times innocent lives were put in danger because we didn't have you? You were always the best of us, the strongest of us, and to all the lowly mortals, you just abandoned them- us.\"\n\n\"This is your chance to redeem yourself.\" The soldier said slowly, staring at his friend.\n\nThe exile stared at him for a moment. Eighteen centuries, and somehow, he still lost the one argument he had prepared so often for. The truth of it, the conviction in his friend's voice- He wasn't prepared. He couldn't argue.\n\n\"Well...\" He began slowly. \"I suppose after eighteen centuries, I have run out of things to do.\"\n\nThe soldier smiled broadly. \"About damn time. It's good to have you back.\"\n\n\"Is it? I suppose we'll see.\"\n\nThe two of them ascended into the sky, leaving only a small gust of wind in their wake." ]	2
Or woman, that's up to you.	[WP] The story of one man's final stand	[ "He knelt on the floor next to her, cradling her head in his arms. The golden hair now stained with her blood fell in a wave over his arms, dripping blood on the floor. The werewolf she had killed with her final blow lay nearby, reverting slowly to its human form as it died. He looked up at the sound of the phalanx of Doomknights filling the hall around the throne on which the Lich King sat looking at him with baleful eyes. She had always charged at danger. Her glowing sword slaying the evil creatures before her. He had always been there to support and protect her with his magic. But not this time. He had been too slow.\n\nSlowly, gently, he placed her head back down on the floor, picked up his staff, and stood. The hall fell silent. He was aware of his fingers running over the glyphs carved into the staff as his power brought them to glowing life. His mind quested out, searching for her essence. It would not linger long. The good tended not to linger, but her love for him had been strong. There she was, the essence floated above her body, confused, slowly realizing what had happened, yet unwilling to leave yet for the higher planes.\n\nNo, he decided. They would go there together. Too late the Lich King realized what he was doing as he beckoned to her essence with his mind. Still confused in death, her essence responded to him and moved toward him, becoming a barely visible ethereal stream flowing into him. He felt his arms become stronger than they ever had been, and his senses sharpened. Suddenly he realized that the lead Doomknight carried his shield slightly too low and the one behind him carried a larger sword which was likely to slow his attack just enough.\n\nWith a battle cry he had heard from her lips many times in nearly hopeless situations, he loosed the power held in his staff. Not aimed at the Doomknights, but aimed instead at the Lich King. The throne on which the Lich King sat exploded and the Lich King himself toppled over backwards. It would not be enough to end him, but it would definitely slow him down. The Doomknights hesitated just as they were getting within reach at the shock reverberating through the room.\n\nThe staff seemed to swing of its own volition as he watched himself battle the Doomguards. His first blow narrowly missed the top of the lead Doomguard’s shield and crushed the side of its head. Wheeling lightly on his feet, he avoided the blow from the second Doomguard and his staff shattered its leg, collapsing it. The rest of them swarmed around him, but he moved with her grace and dexterity now, keeping them at bay with well-placed swings and feints.\n\nUtilizing his own power, he summoned a wind shield which whirled around him, impeding his assailants’ sight and movements. A sword knicked his arm as he spun away just a little too slowly, but a word closed the wound. He parried two sword strikes at once and kicked out, dislocating the Doomguard’s knee. Another sword caught him in the leg, slicing much of the way through his calf. He stumbled, but called out a word of power which banished the pain and instantly mended the wound. The cost of the spell bothered him not at all. He would not live to see the sun rise again.\n\nIn a fury he whirled into a cluster of the Doomguards, scattering them with the ferocity of his assault. There, the Lich King leaned heavily on his own staff, supervising the battle. Bile or some other noxious liquid oozed from several injuries on his face and body. Instead of rushing toward the Lich King, he spun to the side. He did not have long as he felt several more wounds and his healing power was quickly being exhausted. Still, timing, precision, and the controlling the flow of the battle might yet bring him victory.\n\nAgain, he spun, slower now because of the unhealed wound to his right thigh, but still fast enough to avoid a fatal blow. A dozen of the Doomguards lay on the floor dead or incapacitated. He leapt aside, assisted by a magical boost to his muscles, and then he was where he wanted to be. Instead of turning and killing another Doomguard, he launched his staff like a spear at the Lich King. Taken by surprise, the staff hit him square in the face. Again the Doomguards hesitated as the Lich King’s shock stunned them all momentarily.\n\nInstead of using the respite to gather his strength, he launched himself across the intervening distance, shouldering aside one stunned Doomguard and avoiding the brunt of a powerful blow from another although he took a keep wound across his back. Using most of his depleted magical power to bolster his body as best he could, he threw his weight on the Lich King, bearing him to the floor.\n\nTime slowed. He felt her presence as his body moved with her reflexes. The Dagger of Sciones was in his hand as his other arm pressed the Lich King’s head up and back. He felt the sword take him in the back, but his magic held off the pain for the moment he needed to plunge the dagger into the Lich King’s exposed neck and up into the brain case. Fire shot from the Lich King’s mouth incinerating one of the Doomguards unlucky enough to be nearby as the ancient evil breathed its last. Another sword stroke nearly took off his left arm at the shoulder, but it no longer mattered.\n\nHis magic failed, the pain embraced him. He could no longer feel the sword thrusts. She was there. She pulled at his essence. Confusion vanished as the essence of the one he loved pulled at him. Pulled him toward a beautiful light.\n\n“Vandra…” his lips moved for the last time.\n\nAs whisp of pure white ether rose from the fallen mage intertwined with another whisp of slightly darker ether. They rose together toward the sun.\n" ]	1
When I mean they have a "real feud" I meant as in they already had some beef or problem between the two of them and now are in classroom court just to clarify.	[WP] Your middle school class history teacher wants to do a mock trial, only to find that the two participants have a real feud. The quiet kid volunteers to be the lawyer for the defense.	[ "UP FOR DEBATE\n_____________\n\nA Short Play\n\n\nCast of Characters\n\nBilly Grayson: Male, 15 \n\nJohn Applewood: Male, 15\n\nMr. Nelson: Male, Mid-thirties\n\nSamantha Marshall: Female, 15\n\n\n\f\nSETTING: \tSandra Day O’Connor Middle School. Mr. Nelson’s 8th grade US History class.\n\nAT RISE:\tThe class is divided into two teams. Two rows of desks are separated by a center clearing. A white board is on the US wall. Two podiums are placed just DS of the whiteboard. The door to the classroom is in the UR corner. MR. NELSON’s desk is in the UL corner of the room. The students are seated at their desks, talking and horsing around before the start of class. Two students, BILLY and JOHN are talking at the two DL desks.\n\nBILLY\nHa! That’s not what you mom said last night!\n\nJOHN\nEww! That’s my mother! Gross, dude!\n\nBILLY\nWhatever man. So, you have plans for the weekend?\n\nJOHN\nNot really. I guess I should read that book for Mrs. Petersen’s class but I don’t want to read a stupid book about rabbits. \n\nBILLY\nOh yea! Screw that. I’ll probably just look it up on Wikipedia or something. Besides, if the book were any good they would have made a movie of it, right?\n\nJOHN\nYeah, man. \n\n(The school bell rings indicating the start of class. MR. NELSON enters the classroom from the door at right.)\n\nNELSON\nAlright everyone. Settle down. Settle down. Samantha, please put the makeup away. This isn’t cosmetology class.\n\nSAMANTHA\nBut Mr. Nelson, I’m almost done.\n\nBILLY\n(To JOHN, under his breath)\nWho does she think she’d kidding. She could take all day and not look any better.\n\n(JOHN and BILLY laugh quietly. SAMANTHA notices them and stares them down.)\n\nSAMANTHA\nYou have something to say, Billy?\n\nNELSON\nAlright. That’s enough of that. OK. It’s Thursday, which means we will have a short debate over a random topic. Let’s see, whose turn is it this week?\n\n(NELSON checks his notes on his desk.)\n\nNELSON\nLooks like it is Mr. Grayson and Ms. Marshall. Let’s have you two come up to the podiums, please.\n\nSAMANTHA\nSure thing, Mr. Nelson.\n\nBILLY\n(To John, quietly)\nLiterally, it could have been anyone else. Why her? Ugh.\n\nNELSON\nLet’s go, Mr. Grayson. Today please.\n\nBILLY\nComing, sir.\n\n(SAMANTHA takes the podium on SL. BILLY takes the podium on SR. NELSON sits on a tall stool near his desk.)\n\nNELSON\nAlright, you two. You remember how this works? I’ll give you a topic. The person in the proposition will have up to 30 seconds to state their case for the topic. The person in the opposition will have up to 60 seconds to respond and state their case as to why they oppose the topic. Any questions?\n\nSAMANTHA\nNo, sir. \n\nBILLY\nNah man.\n\nNELSON\nOkay. I’ll toss a coin for positions. Ms. Marshall, call it in the air. \n\n(NELSON flips a coin. SAMANTHA calls it before NELSON catches it in his hand. \n\nSAMANTHA\nHeads!\n\nNELSON\nIt is...heads! Alright Ms. Marshall, you’re in the proposition. Mr. Grayson, you’re the opposition.\n\nBILLY\nThat’s okay. I usually oppose whatever she likes. And vice-versa.\n\nSAMANTHA\nThat’s not true! I do not!\n\nBILLY\nYou just did it. I won the debate!\n\n(Billy throws his fist in the air and starts to walk back to his desk. Several of the students laugh at BILLY’S joke.)\n\nNELSON\nNot so fast, Mr. Grayson. Back to the podium, please.\n\nBILLY\nHey, can fault a guy for trying.\n\nNELSON\nSure I can. Okay. The topic: “Violent video games make children violent.” Ms. Marshall, your response?\n\nSAMANTHA\nI completely agree that violent video games make people--and especially children--much more violent. They have people walking around in the game shooting people. And they get extra points for getting in a head shot. In another game you’re supposed to drive around in stolen cars and hide from the police. What kind of example is that for the children of today? They play these games and then they become violent later in life because they were exposed to such violence when they were young. In conclusion, it is quite apparent that children should not be allowed to play such violent games because they make people more violent as they get older.\n\nNELSON\nVery good, Ms. Marshall. Mr. Grayson, your rebuttal?\n\nBILLY\nWhat about my butt?!\n\n(Several students giggle. BILLY grins wildly.)\n\nNELSON\nYour response, Mr. Grayson. What do you have to say regarding your opponent’s argument?\n\nBILLY\nOh, um, it’s stupid.\n\nSAMANTHA\nHey!\n\nNELSON\nYou’re going to need to do better than that. Don’t attack the speaker; attack the argument.\n\nBILLY\nOkay, okay. What was it again?\n\nNELSON\n(Sighing)\n“Violent video games make children—”\n\nBILLY\nViolent! Yeah, that’s right. Yeah. Her argument is stupid.\n\nSAMANTHA\nMr. Nelson?!\n\nBILLY\nI mean it is. There is no way that video games make people violent. Like, if they’re violent then they already were violent, right? Like genetics or something. Look, I play video games all the time. I was playing John the other day on this new one I totally killed him like twelve times! It was awesome!\n\nJOHN\n(Yelling from his seat.)\nYeah, for you maybe. You would kill me as soon as I would respawn!\n\nNELSON\nThank you, Mr. Applewood.\n\nJOHN\nI’m just sayin....\n\nBILLY\nAnyway, violence is everywhere in the world around us. It’s not video games. It’s just like human nature or something, I don’t know. But I can say this, I play video games all the time, and I’m just fine.\n\nSAMANTHA\nHa!\n\nBILLY\nWhat’s that supposed to mean?\n\nSAMANTHA\nWhat, oh nothing.\n\nBILLY\nNo, you seem to think something is so funny. What’s funny?\n\nSAMANTHA\nYou said you’re fine despite playing video games.\n\nBILLY\nYeah, what of it?\n\nSAMANTHA\nWeren’t you suspended last fall for fighting?\n\nBILLY\nYeah, but that was because Trevor Pfeifer--\n\nSAMANTHA\nAnd didn’t Coach Wilson move you third string because you keep losing your temper during practices?\n\nBILLY\nNO! He did that because I never—\n\nSAMANTHA\nAnd everyone knows that you broke your arm last year because you punched the brick wall behind the gym.\n\nBILLY\nYeah, but—\n\nSAMANTHA\nI rest my case.\n\nNELSON\nOkay, Let’s end it here. If we will return—\n\nBILLY\nNow wait a minute! You can’t just say all that crap about me and not let me respond! Mr. Nelson!\n\nNELSON\nWe’ve had enough of debate for today.\n\nBILLY\nCome on! \n\nNELSON\nPlease return to your seat, Mr. Grayson\n\nBILLY\nNo! She can’t just say that to me!\n\nSAMANTHA\n(Full of sarcasm)\nThe debate is over, MR. GRAYSON.\n\nBILLY\nLISTEN! You can’t just say that stuff to me and not let me talk back. I can’t have you coming at me like that. I won’t stand for it.\n\n(BILLY is clenching his fists. He is pacing in front of his podium now.)\n\nJOHN\nHey dude, its fine. Come sit down. It’s okay.\n\nBILLY\nIt’s not okay....\n\nNELSON\nBilly, please speak with me over here, please.\n\nBILLY\nBut she—\n\nNELSON\nPlease, Billy.\n\n(BILLY stares at SAMANTHA who is ignoring him completely. He approaches NELSON’S desk, still fuming.)\n\nNELSON\n(To CLASS)\nClass, please get out your homework from yesterday and switch with someone else in the room.\n(To BILLY)\nListen. I’m going to need you to calm down. There is no need to escalate this any further. \n\nBILLY\nBut Mr. Nelson! She kept saying that stuff about me and she had no right to. We were supposed to be debating the topic, right? Right?\n\nNELSON\nThat is correct.\n\nBILLY\nAnd that’s what I did! But she! She!\n\n(Billy closes his eyes and tries to take a few calming breaths.)\n\nI’m sorry, Mr. Nelson. I don’t know why I get so mad sometimes. Sometimes the smallest thing will just send me into a rage. My mom.... She says that I have an appointment with a behavioral doctor next week. She says I need to see someone about my anger. Maybe she’s right.\n\nNELSON\nThank you for confiding in me. I’m also proud of you. You were able to eventually realize that your anger was misguided. And you took control of the situation.\n\nBILLY\nYeah, sometimes I know that I’m being stupid and should stop being so angry, but I can’t stop. It’s weird. When something get me going, I can’t stop.\n\nNELSON\nAnd that’s something you can continue to work on.\n\nBILLY\nYeah. I guess.\n\nNELSON\nDo you need to see Mrs. Sanders in the counseling office?\n\nBILLY\nNo. No, thank you. I’m ok now. Can I go the water fountain, though? Just for a sec?\n\nNELSON\nSure. We’ll be grading when you return, so please enter quietly.\n\nBILLY\nYeah. Okay.\n\n(BILLY crosses to the door on the opposite side of the room. He opens the door half-way before stopping and staring at SAMANTHA who is looking over the homework on her desk.)\n\nNELSON\nIn or out, Mr. Grayson.\n\nBILLY\nWhat? Oh. Sorry.\n\n(BILLY exits the classroom. NELSON crosses center.)\n\nNELSON\nAlright, ladies and gentlemen. Make sure you write “graded by” at the bottom of the page and your name. Number one…\n\n(FADE TO BLACK)\n\n(END OF PLAY)\n\n\n\n\n", "\"I-I really can't remember, Jeff.\" Big-boned Billy was a shivering mess before the ruthless, orange juice fueled fervor of Jeff Mitchell, ginger prosecutor in the people's court of Ms. Hendricks's third grade history class. It didn't help that the quiet girl, Sally, was his defense attorney. She'd spent all class writing down notes and hadn't said a word to help him.\n\n\"Mister Wallace, answer the question!\" Jeff jabbed a finger at the stand, really just a tiny chair, and asked, \"Did you, or did you not take the cookies? Which, I remind the court, you admitted to seeing on my client's desk on the 12th of July. The very same day they went missing.\"\n\n\"I told you, I don't--\"\n\n\"Admit it, fatty!\" Jeff pounded his fist into his hand.\n\n\"Objection, your honor. He's clearly intimidating my client, and, uh, being mean.\" That one interjection had more words in it than Sally had said all year.\n\n\"Objection sustained,\" ruled Ms. Hendricks, nodding her head wisely. \"Jeff, stop intimidating Billy and calling him fat.\" Billy wondered why the teacher hadn't stepped in earlier. He decided that court was a scary place.\n\n\"Why can't I? We all know he did it.\" Jeff pointed at the poor boy again. \"Look at him. Look how guilty he looks. I just need to make him squeal!\"\n\n\"Because you're a lawyer, Jefferey, not a gangster. Did you read pages 143 to 145 in the textbook?\"\n\nJeff straightened a tie he didn't have, and said, \"You honor, I'd like to exercise my right to remain silent.\"\n\nMs. Hendricks pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a sigh. \"You're not the one on trial here, Jeff.\"\n\n\"Your honor, if Mr. Mitchell is done cross-examining my witness and demonstrating his own blatant lack of preparation as an attorney, can we end this farce? I'd like to get to the lunchroom before a line forms up for the microwave.\" Billy had to admit that with this and her previous objection, Sally was proving to be a reliable ally. She may have been quiet, but that didn't mean that she was dumb, or a pushover like he was. He was glad to have her defending him from Jeff's pointing fingers and cutting words, even though she was a girl, and even though she'd peed her pants last month.\n\n\"Very well. Does the prosecution have any final arguments?\"\n\n\"Your honor, he took the cookies. I can't remember just means he can't think of a way to lie because I'm such a good lawyer.\" He pointed at Sally, and screamed, \"No matter what that pee-girl says!\"\n\nMs. Hendricks's glare was icier than a Popsicle in the cool zone of an amusement park. \"Jeff. After school.\" After watching the boy squirm for a moment, she turned to Sally and asked, \"Any final arguments from the defense?\"\n\n\"The prosecution claims the cookies were stolen on the 12th of July, your honor. That's during summer vacation, and as my client's report card shows, his grades are exceptional. He would have no reason to be in summer school. However,\" she gestured toward Jeff, \"Mr. Mitchell here, is known to be a frequent face at summer school, and a lover of cookies.\" She shrugged. \"Plus, I heard him brag about stealing the cookies to the other boys while Dan was in the washroom! He's the one who should be sentenced your honor.\"\n\nMs. Hendricks stroked her chin, and smiled, \"Very good point about summer school, Sally. I think that proves Billy's innocence.\" She stopped smiling. \"With that being said, you're a lawyer, not a detective. Jeff needs to have his own trial before we sentence him.\"\n\n\"But he did it! I heard him say it. Look at him. Look how guilty he looks.\"\n\nMs. Hendricks sighed and shook her head. \"Not this again.\"" ]	2
	[WP] The conspiracy theorists were right. We didn't go to the moon, we went much further.	[ "\"Don't do that! You'll ruin the original!\"\n\n\"Someone get a copy over to the guys in exposure, ASAP.\"\n\n\"A copy tape won't do, it will have to be the original.\"\n\n\"But what about what we found?\"\n\n\"We can always go back.\"\n\nJuly 25th, 1969\n\nDirector Bennett walked into the boardroom, but no one seemed to notice.\n\n\"Someone better start explaining the situation to me right now, or you can explain to my wife why I'm missing our boys' school play.\"\n\nSuddenly the bustling and chatter paused for an instant. Attention turned to the ex-navy commander, before everyone burst into shouted explanations and arguments. Bennett just shook his head, pointing to one of his junior officers.\n\n\"You, outside. Now.\"\n\nThe pair shuffled out of the boardroom, shutting the noise and confusion behind closed doors behind them.\n\n\"Name?\"\n\n\"Officer Bradley, sir.\"\n\n\"Officer Bradley. Update me please.\"\n\nThe two men walked down the corridor towards the building exit.\n\n\"As I'm sure you're aware sir, Apollo 11 returned successfully yesterday. On splashdown, we recovered the recordings taken on the surface. Now the government and the public are both wanting to see what we found up there.\"\n\nBennett looked confused. \"What's the problem then?\"\n\nBradley struggled to find the words. \"80 percent of the footage is... sensitive, sir.\"\n\n\"Specifics, Bradley.\"\n\n\"The planet the ship landed on seemed to be inhabited by some kind of... infection. We almost lost our men up there. The infection seemed to have overtaken the planet's indigenous creatures. Dog-like things with foaming maws and humanoid monsters with fangs and claws tearing through their own skin from the arms and back.\"\n\nBennett paused in disbelief. \"Bradley, if you're trying to pull- \"\n\n\"I'm 100 percent serious, sir.\"\n\n\"Hell,\" Bennett had expected the worst, but this was inconceivable. He rubbed his forehead with his hand with anxiety.\n\n\"Continue with the moon cover-up story?\"\n\n\"That's what we're trying to figure out how to do in the boardroom, sir.\"\n\nBennett tapped his shoe in thought on the marble floor.\n\n\"Let's see what I can do,\" he said as he paced eagerly back to the mad room.", "Bill \"Two-Shot\" Gannegon, top pilot in his class, stood at attention in NASA's waiting room. He was a funny looking man (unflattering folds of the skin) but had these sharp, small little eyes that could cut some bread from an altitude of 50k. He stood, perspiring among the quiet rows, some novelty National Anthem track playing in the background, sung by Buzz Aldrin. Normally, he didn't sweat, but when NASA calls and wants a word with you, a man, no matter his class rank, was gonna sweat stars as they say.\n\nHe thought of his wingmate saying, \"Stars.\" He had whispered it over and over in his sleep in the cot next to him. And he, Bill \"Two-Shot\" Gannegon stared at the ceiling with his small, freaky eyes. \"Stars,\" his wingmate murmured, pornographically.\n\nThe clock ticked. The secretary shuffled papers. The sweat trickled down his face. Stars.\n\nWOOOSHBANG-ERRZ -- the door to the underground came apart at the center, and six astronauts came in with modern orange suits shoutin and whoopin like the boys back in the kansas might in a game of jumper. \"WILLIAM GANNEGON!\" the big one yelled. \n\n\"WILLIAM GANNEGAN!\" the secretary yelled.\n\n\"I AM WILLIAM GANNEGAN!\" ol Two-Shot yelled. The men took by each limb and began to carry him down the hall as if he were flying, making airplane noises and congratulating him. Oh, he laughed! He laughed in a way he hadn't since being a childhood outlier, these deep, long belly chorts, as they took him flying down into the belly of the NASA beast. All in good humor. \n\nHe had come, but no one knew, save for Astronaut Boverelli, who had been supporting Bill's stomach. \n\nThey set Bill down in front of a man in a dour suit, bald, holding a box of chalk. \"Welcome to NASA, William. Call me Mr. Ted. I'm your new boss.\"\n\n\"WOW.\" That's all Bill could say. \n\n\"Ha-ha. Yup. Wow, indeed,\" chuckled Mr. Ted, opening up his box of chalk. \"You now work for the organization that brought you the moon landing, son.\" He dismissed the astronauts, quietly, giving Bill a wry look. Bill tried really hard to return this look. Bill achieved some sort of face, at least -- something that made Mr. Ted shake his head and pass him to the chalkboard on the back wall.\n\nMr. Ted took a piece of white chalk and held it up to the light. A long, white cylinder. He flashed a crazy eye at Bill and started pretending like it was a rocket shooting up, making gurgling launching noises and everything. All the way to the ceiling! Almost. They had a good laugh. \n\nMr. Ted stopped laughing before Bill did, and regarded Bill gravely.\n\nHe smartly drew a circle and labeled it EARTH. Then, a smaller circle orbiting around. \"What's this, William?\" \n\nBill said, \"The moon!\"\n\n\"That's right!\" Mr. Ted exclaimed. He then showed Bill the chalk in his hand, and made the same gurgling noises, \"Here we are, gonna go to the moon!\" Bill clapped his hands and exclaimed adoringly. \"Here we goooo and...\" The chalk rocket made it to orbit the moon, but Mr. Ted slowed down. He turned, kinda creepily, to Bill, \"And... what if I told you...\" \n\nBill said, \"What! Tell me what!\"\n\n\"What if I told you--\" Mr. Ted threw the chalk at the wall. The chalk entered into a portal that opened up, and folded over it.\n\nBill said \"WHAT!\"\n\n\"Open your eyes,\" Mr. Ted croaked, mysteriously like a homeless magician. Bill opened his eyes to find the chalk suspended in front of him, turning in the air quite peacefully. Bill \"Two-Shot\" Gannegan came a second time. The walls of the room pulled away and showed eight thousand NASA engineers working for miles around him and above him, the most wonderous technologies known to man, ships twice the size of anything on Star Trek, and insect like machines crawling everywhere. \n\n\"Welcome to NASA, William. Can you promise me one thing?\"\n\n\"Mr. Ted. I...\" Bills eyes were as small as condensed balls of dark matter.\n\n\"Promise me this will be our little secret.\"\n\nBill whispered, \"Stars,\" despite himself and from that moment on, William Gannegan was known as Bill \"Three-Shot\" Gannegan." ]	2
	[WP] A mobster, a drug lord, a gang banger, and a teenage girl have a bi-monthly game night.	[ "\"Yo Tony, what are we playing tonight?\" Mark barged into the foyer of the south shore abode, a six pack in one hand and a bottle of coke in the other. His gait both loping and shuffling, he seemed to bound forward at lackadaiscal speeds. \"Don't wanna get wrecked in that Catan shit again; Juan was way too slick, man.\"\n\n\"Don't worry bout it; I got an idea for tonight. This one's a card game about finding a werewolf. You played Mafia, right?\" The dark haired man sauntered down the stairs, his shirt untucked and his tie loosened; he smiled, unperturbed by his friend's booming entrance. \"It's a lot like that; one of the boys showed it to me last weekend. Tiffany's grabbin' it on her way over.\"\n\n\"Aight; hold up.\" Mark's drinks found their way to the table as he continued his shuffle to the bathroom. Tony strolled through the kitchen, plucking glasses and napkins as he went. The table was set as the door creeped open.\n\n\"Got the game, Tony! I need the wifi password to get the app for it.\" Tony winced as Tiffany's voice cut through the serene home.\n\n\"Does every damn thing need its own app these days? Passwords the same: eastriverfishfeeder, no spaces.\" Tony hugged his cousin, a regular game night attendee since an accidental group text last year. Tiffany oozed into her chair, phone having materialized in her hand in the blink of an eye.\n\n\"Yo Tiffany, how you doin' girl?\" Mark's shuffle a smidge quicker as he made his way to the table. He plopped down next to her and the room filled with their chatter. Tony didn't mind the noise, a break from his reality into the strange world of the next generation. He leaned back and sipped a beer from the stash.\n\n\"Ah, they would make quite the cute pair, my friend.\" An unimposing man with a black moustache was now located in the chair next to Tony's. Tony's grateful sip continued, uninterrupted.\n\nHis draw done, he placed his beer down. \"Juan, you're late. Was starting to get worried about you.\"\n\nJuan chuckled. \"You never need worry about me.\" His wry smile the very paragon of self-assured confidence. \"I see we are playing the werewolf game.\"\n\nTony's eyebrows popped up. \"You know it?\"\n\n\"Of course. I am the master of games here, Tony!\" Juan's laugh bounced through the room as he winked at the Italian. \"Don't worry; you'll get me one of these days. Now then! Lovebirds!\"\n\nMark and Tiffany, red-faced, snapped to attention as Juan commanded. \n\nJuan sunk low to the table. His eyes shifting. The room still. His voice started a hoarse whisper: \"Are you ready... For ONE NIGHT, ULTIMATE WEREWOLF!\"\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are actually the only person who has ever gone to Hell.	[ "He was standing at the gates. His broad, welcoming smile ever present. Any day now, he thought. He had made preparations. There was cake, there was beer, hell, there were even some succubi strippers. Too bad they didn't really make good conversation, as all they could do was shriek. His tail itched, but he didn't dare to scratch. What if right at that precise moment somebody finally came through gate? The embarrassment... No, he would just have to ignore it. First opinions mattered, especially for his first new permanent friends. \n \nA winged demon flew up to him. \"Not now Seth! They're coming any minute now!\" The demon handed him a letter and flew off again. With a sigh, he finally sat down and opened the envelope with one of his finely manicured but sharp nails. \n \nThe letter read: \"I know we haven't spoken in a while. Your determination is admirable, but it pains me to see you so alone. Please drop by again soon, the party up here has been non-stop and growing for millennia now. Everybody is dying to hear from you. Sincerely, God\" \n \nHe looked at the banquet he prepared. He looked at the fountains of fire he had commissioned. He looked at the succubi, bored out of their minds. \n \nAnd he finally scratched. The relief was liberating, he could finally think clearly again. With that, he locked the gate, gave it to Seth for safeguarding, and flew up into the light.\n" ]	1
	[WP] Everyday your magical back pack contains one thing to help you through the day. Today, you reach in and there's a gun.	[ "The bag’s middle name was surprise.\n\nAt least, that was what I’d taken to referring to it at first. I bought the thing—I can’t call it anything else, since it changed its shape everyday—at a Goodwill store near my workplace. It was—oh, I can’t quite recall—beaded? In some parts, a vintage floral design, with a gold clasp and trimmed in red patent leather. And a little handle so it hanged snugly in the crook of your arm—the height of 50s fashion. It opened fine, looked fine, seemed fine.\n\nUntil I sat down to have a sandwich in a nearby diner afterwards, fumbling in my backpack for a tissue.\n\nIn my furious rummaging my elbow knocked my newly bought purse from the table to the ground. A curse fell from my lips—and something else fell from the bag as well. A flutter of white: Subway napkins, a fanned out stack of them, their green leaf motifs staring back at me.\n\nThe moment I reached home I unclasped the purse again and ran my fingers along its lining, looking for a tear, a fray—a loophole. I hadn’t bothered with the lights: the living room, where I was, was sufficiently lit by the setting sun and streetlights both.\n\nAll I felt was silk—\n\nNo.\n\nMy fingertips brushed against something cool. It felt weighty when I pulled it out, even though it fitted easily in the palm of my hand.\n\nIt was a lighter. Foreign letters were etched into the silver, sieving out from a sea of faint micro-scratches. Russian, I’d guessed.\n\nThat first day was the only time the bag spit out two things in a day.\n\nSince then, it… has provided me with the one thing I needed, or lacked, each day.\n\nDoes that sound crazy?\n\nDuring commute: a gold compact, decorated with the swirls and loops of berry bushes, emerged pinched between my fingers. Flipping it open, I saw my reflection—and a smudge of red lipstick near my chin.\n\nA pen, of unknown make, appearing just when a client from work called during lunch, filling my ears with extremely technical information that took up a napkin or two.\n\nThe cashmere-soft slide of a ruby-red scarf, absentmindedly wound around my hand when the cinema was cold.\n\nThe purse from that first day never did come back in its entirety. Everyday brought a slightly different bag: emerging new or worn or familiar when I pulled it out the next morning. But never the same.\n\n——\n\nWe were drunk. We were so so drunk.\n\nHalf of that drunkenness came from the bag, I think. I’d pulled it out at the bar, yelled something to the likes of, “Hey, do you know what I really, really need right now?” before pulling a large bottle of Stoli from the tiny, tiny clutch. Whoops and cheers rang out around the bar as I gripped the bottle by its glass neck, triumphant.\n\nThe buzz was still there, barely muted by the quiet, when we were inside the lift.\n\n“Was this the only thing you kept?” Having inspected it from all angles on our walk home, he was now flicking the silver lighter open and closed repeatedly with a thumb. A staccato of metal meeting metal echoed in the enclosed lift.\n\n“Yeah,” I said, manoeuvring my clutch under my arm as I tugged on my dress. “Everything else I took out went back into the bag, which pretty much made them disappear by morning.”\n\nThe clicking slowed, and started up again. “Okay, have you tried taking more than one thing—“\n\n“I have, it only works the first time.”\n\n“Really? Show me.”\n\nBefore he could pester me some more I pulled the clutch from under my arm, flipped it open and stuck a hand inside. I did it only to satisfy his curiosity. At worst, I’d pull out an object I really needed—like Tylenol or something—and at best, it could give me my keys.\n\n“So anything, anything?” He was positively rocking on his heels now, trying to get a good look in the clutch. “Do we have to say a magic word or something?”\n\nI rolled my eyes. “It doesn’t work that—“\n\nI saw his eyes widen, and felt my hand weighed down by metal.\n\nIt was heavy; the wrong kind of heavy. “It’s a…”\n\n“Beretta,” he finished.\n\nMy hand was locked in an unfamiliar position—index finger rested on the trigger—when I pulled the gun out. After a moment of silence—shock or awe written on his face—he reached out and gently pried it away from the trigger.\n\n“Yeah, I think this needs to go back into the bag, and the bag inside my closet,” I said finally.\n\n“No, wait. Let’s try something.” There was a strange light in his eyes; I could see the cogs turning behind them.” What if we try shooting into the bag?”\n\nI took a step back. “What? We’re in a lift for god’s sake! What if it shoots right through it?”\n\nHe tried again, “I mean, the bullet has to go somewhere, right? And it definitely won’t go through the bag, judging from your personal experience the past few weeks.” \n\n“Okay, fine, why don’t you do it?” I wanted to toss my hands in the air but I couldn’t, obviously.\n\nBefore I could pass the gun over to him, he leaned forward and depressed the trigger while it was still in my hand.\n\nThe sensation of the gun discharging was off-kilter: I felt the metal jerk but didn’t hear the gunshot, if there was supposed to be any.\n\nA ding, and the lift doors slid open.\n\n“Oh look, it’s our floor.” He spun once—“No bullet holes here, right?”—and sauntered out, leaving me to stuff the Beretta back into my clutch.\n\nI stood it up the best I could in the too-small bag, careful not to brush against the metal. My fingers pressed against the inner lining to smooth it down—before brushing against something wet.\n\nAnd crimson.\n\nThe lift doors closed behind me. I looked down at my fingertips and into the bag again—a rapidly growing splotch ringing my belongings and the gun.\n\nStrains of voices and background noise—he’d switched on the television—drifted out from the entrance of our apartment, gate flung open like an afterthought.\n\nBREAKING NEWS: LIVE FROM RU—" ]	1
	[WP] You are an Evil Overlord who's prophesied to conquer the world, only one problem you are horrible at world conquering	[ "it happened a year ago on this very same day. Some how its the only date i never forget. Granted it is also my birthday so it is pretty hard to forgot. But it was the day when I learned about my destiny. To start an epic celebration of my 18th birthday, Wally and I decided to take a journey of self discovery by smoking as much as we possibly could. Wally had found his brothers stash a few days back and had stolen it for my birthday.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nWe ordered pizza and proceeded to talk about the future while we waited. Not really the far future, not the one that has occupied my mind and thought ever since that day, mostly just about when the pizza would get there and how savagely we would devour it. \n\n&nbsp; \n\nIt felt like an eternity before the door bell finally rang. I stumbled as fast as i could to make my way to the door. I opened it only to be surprised by a blinding beam of light. Since we had been in the basement all day i just assumed my eye needed to get adjusted so I stood there quietly waiting for my vision to work properly. It didn't. I must have stood there for about 5 minute before some one finally talked.\n\n&nbsp;\n\n\"Do not be afraid, I am here, only to talk.\" said the strange voice. It felt like some one trying way too hard to make their voice deeper than it was.\n&nbsp; \n\n\"Pizze?\" - I mumbled. I was trying to form a normal sentence but those damn evil plant had robbed me of all my vocabulary. all but the only thing that mattered.\n\n&nbsp;\n\"I am a messenger from the dark lord. I am here to inform of your grand destiny. Of your glorious fate and this world inevitable demise!\" \n\n&nbsp;\n\"Pizza!\" I said louder this time. I still couldn't see any thing, so I threw my 20 dollar bill at where the voice was coming from. \n\n&nbsp;\n\"You are son of the only justified ruler of this world. You are the conqueror. \nYou shall rule this world in his name and lead his armies to battle against heaven it self.\"- the voice continued, ignoring my obvious confusion. \n\n&nbsp;\nI gathered what ever strength that I could, focused as hard as i ever have and finally and clearly said:\n\"But where is my pizza\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\"THERE IS NO FUCKING PIZZA! I'm here to to tell you about your future and your father\"\n\n&nbsp;\n\"wait my dad is here! he was supposed to work till 9\" I screamed in fear. My dad would kill me he saw this messed up. \n\n&nbsp;\n\"Not him your real Dad, the power dark lord. The ruler of hell\" - he replied with noticeable anger.\n\n&nbsp;\n\"he is just an accountant, he isnt that bad\" - I replied, this guy was really messing with my mood.\n\"No you were adop... Ugh whats the point\"\n\n&nbsp; \n\nThe light suddenly became even brighter than before. It burned through my eye lids that couldn't not save me from its furious luminosity. It felt like it was piercing through my brain. Etching its thought and ideas in my mind. I began to understand. I gained memories of the past, visions of the future. I could see vividly, armies of man looking up at me. The world at my fit as i sat on a fury throne. And then blackness. I woke up on the couch in our basement, a new man, with a new path to follow.\n\n&nbsp;\n\nSince that day I have began my quest to conquer this world. I have already accomplished the first step. In order to procure enough power to begin my conquest, I need resources and money. So I have found a job. Today I am the pizza delivery boy; Tomorrow I will be the conqueror. " ]	1
	[WP] You are travelling around the world and each time you wait in the airport you notice a cute little kid the thing is you saw this kid in every airport you went to and each time the kid is with different parents	[ "“Hey honey, how was the flight?” Her voice was chipper.\n\n“Fine, babe. Just…wait, I haven’t left yet. I’m…I’m waiting for the next flight now, it doesn’t leave for a couple hours.” I replied.\n\n“Oh. Well, get some rest. You’ve been jetting between time-zones so much I’m surprised you’re even awake right now.”\n\nHell, what time was it? I wondered as I looked down at my watch, still set on time back home, 2 A.M. The bright, morning sun shining into the terminal. I was a long way from home, I thought.\n\n“Shit, I’m sorry. I just realized the time. I’ll call you back in the morning.”\n\nShe giggled, “Babe, its ok. Work has been keeping you away, I’m sure it’s easy to lose track of the day and time. Try and get some rest?”\n\n“Thanks, love ya.”\n\n“Thanks, you too.”\n\nAs I hung up the phone I couldn’t help thinking about the oddity of the conversation. She didn’t too awake for this early on a weekday. What day was it, was it a weekday? \n\nI started to put my phone back in my pocket, when I saw her again. I wiped my eyes in disbelief. I could feel my eyes welling up with water. Even though I hadn’t slept in a couple of days, there could be no mistake, that was her, that was my little Adelynn.\n \nI pulled my phone back up, and discreetly took her picture. Then put my phone back in my pocket. I watched her walk away from me down the terminal, trying to confirm that it was her. I sat in confusion, trying to figure out was going on. \n The man accompanying her was a tall, young Chinese man in a brown, tweed suit that belied his age. He looked like he belonged to an era long past. I looked again at my Adelynn, I was sure it was her. But I also saw her in London, she was with an older couple then. Fat tourists travelling with their child. I had a picture of her there too. In New York, she was with a red-headed business woman in a black, professional dress and stilettos. And the time before that…I pulled my phone back from my pocket and turned it to my pictures. I flipped through the pictures with a feverish pace. Dozens of photos of my Adelynn, and each time she was with different adults. What the hell was happening?\n\nMy Adelynn and the young man stopped and were staring into one of the shops. The over-priced markets that peddled you junk you didn’t need. They stepped inside. My heart jumped in my chest. This was it. This was the first time I would be able to go to her, rescue her from these people. \n\nI stood up. Slowly I began walking towards the shop to follow them in. I went over what I was going to do, what I was going to say. I was going to save my Adelynn. I hadn’t made it more than a dozen feet from where I had been sitting when a gruff voice broke me from my thoughts.\n\n“Sir, is this your bag you’re leaving?” I looked back at the airport security, standing by my briefcase.\n\n“Oh, yes, but…um, just a minute I need to talk with someone over...” I trailed off as I looked back and saw my Adelynn leaving the store. This time there was an elderly woman holding her hand as they walked back towards me.\n\n“Sir, you can’t leave your bag unattended.”\n\n“I’ll be right, back. I just need a minute.” I called back frustrated.\n\nI heard the guard talking into his radio, but I didn’t care. My Adelynn was coming back towards me.\n\n“Sir, you need to come with me.” The guard said as he grabbed my wrist from behind. I looked back at him angry, he was trying to keep me from my lost little girl.\n\n“No!” I yelled as I tried to pull myself free from his grasp. He gripped me tighter and twisted my arm. He threw me to the ground on my face. I struggled to break free, but he grabbed my other arm and pulled it behind my back.\n\n“Quit resisting, sir.” He commanded as he slipped the handcuffs on me. I had been tackled in a such a way that I couldn’t turn. I could no longer see my Adelynn. I began crying, screaming out for her.\n\nAnother guard came over and the two men hoisted me to my feet and began ushering me away. I keep trying to turn, to look back, to see my Adelynn. A crowd had formed around where I had been, they blocked my view. I knew she could hear me so I kept crying out. I didn’t stop until the two guards pushed me into a side hallway and the doors closed behind me.\n\nThey lead me through the maze of halls, until finally they came to a series of doors. We were no longer in the area with all the administrative offices. These doors had no windows. They pushed me into one of the rooms. It was empty except for a large table with two chairs at it. The pushed me down into one of the chairs, the one facing away from the door. They moved my hands from behind my back and handcuffed them to the table. They walked out leaving me alone.\n\nI sat at the table. Broken. Dejected. I kept looking at my watch, the minutes dragged past. More than thirty minutes crawled by before the door behind me opened again. I turned to try and see who had come. A middle-aged man, his dark hair peppered with gray, closed the door behind him. As he turned, his jacket fluttered opened and I saw his gun and badge. He was a cop, he could help me.\n\nHe sat down without saying a word and placed a folder on the table.\n\n“Sir, you have to help me. I just saw my little girl in the terminal, she disappeared a year ago. You have to let me go and I can show you where she was.”\n\n“No. I don’t have to do shit. You. You on the other hand. You better start talking. You better explain yourself.”\n\n“What?”\n\nHe opened the folder and slid it in front of me. He fanned open three photos of my Adelynn at me.\n\n“That’s her! That’s my Adelynn! She’s here at this airport, you have to help me!”\n\n“These,” he said tapping his on the photos, “girls were all found on your phone. Along with photos of a couple more dozen other little girls. These girls here,” he tapped again, “they’ve all gone missing in the last couple months, and you need to tell me where they are.”\n\n“I have no idea what you’re talking about,\" I did my best to point at the photos while handcuffed. \"This is my Adelynn. Aren’t you listening to me?” I cried out, my voice raising in anger.\n\n“Fine. You don’t want to talk. You can just sit here then.”\n\nThe officer rose, leaving the photos behind. I called out behind him as he exited the room.\n\n“No, listen, you have to help me. Please!” The heavy door shut behind him. \n\nI turned back to look the photos. What happened? Did he switch the photos? Where was my Adelynn? Who were these girls? I hung my head, sobbing uncontrollably, tears splattering on the photos of the missing girls.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You wake up one morning and your pet has turned into a human, but has kept its ways and habits.	[ "\"I'll pee wherever I want, Richard. If you want to stop me, then I want you to call me a good boy and give me treats. Afterwards, I want you to take me to the park.\" Adolf walked up to the lamp to chew on the wire then returned to his sitting position. \n\nRichard raised Adolf since he was a puppy, after so many years of bonding he never thought the bondage would reach this level, his eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing, Adolf, the most wonderful pug had been transformed.\n\n\"Richard, you're being stupid again.\" \n\nAfter a moment of silence Adolf stood there in declaration. The master's eyes met with the newly evolved human, raising his voice, Richard commanded what was once a beautiful pug to sit.\n\nAdolf declines, Richard runs toward him and instinctively trying to grab his fur, his hands slide across Adolf's questionably smooth skin\n\n\"Sit.\" Richard says.\n\n\"I decline.\" Adolf rebels.\n\n\"Adolf\" Richard said raising his voice even higher, \"I command you to sit!\"\n\nThere was nothing the master could do, so he rebelled against the rebellious dictatorship. \"I'm kicking you out Adolf\" \n\nAdolf sat in silence then gazed towards my eyes. \"Not if I kick you out first!\" He ran towards Richard, jumping on his chest and knocking Richard over with the force of a thousand pugs. \"Ado-\"\n\nRichard couldn't stand it any longer, so the man released his pent up testosterone bolting towards the door, entering the master room where he met his wife. \"Sophia, you won't believe this.\" despite Sophia being in a deep sleep, she was already awake, and asked Richard why there was another man in the house. \n\n\"That's no man, it's a pug!\" \n\nSophia sighed intensely, shortly afterwards their conversation was interrupted by scratching upon the door. \"Richard.\" she said intensely. \"I'm not putting up with your sick kinks again. What, are you gonna put a leash on him and call him a good boy?\" Richard could no longer comprehend the situation\n\nThe door busted open, Adolf had figured out how to maneuver his new fingers. \"Richard, I command you to put the leash on me and call me a good boy, this is unacceptable.\" \n\n\"Fine.\" Richard said.\n\n\"Really?\" Sophia said sounding persuaded.\n\n\"What?\" Richard responded.\n\n\"Fine, I'll do it,\" She began taking off her clothes. \n\nAdolf was still standing at the door clueless to the situation.\n\nRichard stared in awe at his wife who was undressing herself. Sophia stared at Richard and said \"Fine, I'll do i-\"\n\nAdolf was sitting in the corner of the room staring directly into her eyes. It wasn't the infamous pose of a pug defecating, but the offensive odor being released. \n\n\"Is this really what you want?\" She meets Richard's eyes once more as she walked to the opposite corner of the room\"\n\nSophia grins at Richard as she began to mimic the pose of Adolf \"Two can play at this game.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You're a lawyer whose died and gone to hell, only to find out that heaven is carefree, and hell is run like a business firm. The devil introduces himself calmly and awkwardly, wearing near-sighted glasses and a one-piece suit, as he prepares to file a claim for the Apocalypse.	[ "“What the Hell? Where am I?” I asked no one in particular. I felt like I had the one the worst hangovers of my life. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples trying to get some clarity. When I opened my eyes again I saw a figure walking towards me. He was an elderly man but his movements were still youthful. He had a full head of thick white hair brushed back and out of his face revealing eyes that appeared a little too small, almost beady in appearance but piercing and blue. He had a rather long hook like nose with thin lips encircled by a white goatee. He wore a charcoal grey suit that was tailored perfectly and filled out what appeared to be a thin frame. Overall he had the appearance of a rather large bird really, something like a hawk. \n\nAs he approached me he extended a large thin fingered hand with fingernails that were much too long reminding me of talons. “You must be our new resident lawyer.” He said his voice more quiet and less confident sounding than what I’d imagined. “Where the Hell am I?” I asked, still confused and feeling groggy. “Ah… that’s exactly where you are. You’re in hell. You were supposed to get an orientation brief upon arrival but apparently there was some miscommunication.” He responded sounding slightly irritated at the situation. What did he just say? I looked around for the first time. It must’ve of just been a bad joke because this place certainly didn’t look like hell. There was no ring of fire or screaming tortured souls. It just looked like any other office I’d ever been in. In front of me there was a reception desk with a woman that looked to be in her fifties typing away at a computer and beyond her was just rows of boring grey cubicles. Maybe by Hell he meant corporate America. \n\nI chuckled at my own stupid joke as I asked again, “No seriously, where am I and how did I get here?” “Seriously, this is Hell and you got here via a car accident. You’d been speeding on your way to an important meeting when your phone rang and you got distracted. On the bright side you only killed yourself.” As he formed the words of his sentence it all came rushing back to me in an instant. I had crossed over my lane into oncoming traffic and then over corrected when I looked up. No this couldn’t be, I had to be having a nightmare or something. I started pinching and slapping myself trying to wake up as I did this the old man let out a soft chuckle. “There’s no point Richard. You’re as dead as a doornail.”\n\nAlright I decided I could play along, for now at least. “Sorry I’m so confused this isn’t exactly what I pictured Hell to be like. No screams of anguish or anything like that. What exactly is going on here?” “Well I’m glad you asked that. All the stories you’ve heard your entire life are all wrong. The big guy upstairs just put them in that little book of his to try and help encourage people to live the ‘right’ way, or at least what he thinks is the right way. That being said this place isn’t all fun and games, it’s just not all bad.” “Ok but how do I fit in exactly?”\n\n“Well we’re in desperate need of a new lawyer Richard. I’m sure you’ve heard how popular lawyers are around here. The problem is that once they realize they’re in hell the tend to not be very useful. They seem to think that if the help little old Lucy out they’ll somehow look worse to the big man. Now I could do some of that horrible stuff you’ve heard about and make them work for me but I’m the devil and I fully support free will. I mean without free will mankind never would’ve suffered through the fall in the first place. It’s one of my favorite things and I don’t like to muck it up. So I’ve been trying to find someone that would work willingly with me and it’s been a bit of a hassle.” \n\n“Why should I do any differently? I mean why exactly should I help you, and what is it you’re trying to do?” “I’m trying to file a claim against the big man’s apocalypse.” “I don’t understand. I thought you were going to bring about the apocalypse or your son or something like that.” “Ah yes that’s a common misconception, especially among nonreligious folks. What’s actually going to happen according to what I’ve read, and I have read quite extensively, is that God is going to bring about the end of the world. He will have his people spread his word all throughout the world to warn people. Of course I’m sure very few people will actually listen I mean have you heard the things religious people say? The sound ludicrous. Anyway after all that mister all loving himself will cause international warfare, famine, and disease. He’ll do all this so that he can destroy wicked people who love money and pretty much everything else that’s great in the world except for God.”\n\n“I you ask me it sounds like the only thing this all loving God loves is himself. Aren’t you excited about all the wars and famines though? I’d think that would be your bread and butter.”\n\n“Oh I live for those things, truly I do. The problem is the purpose they’re serving. He wants to destroy the people I enjoy the most, lovers of money and self, people that love pleasure more than any goodness. Those are my people doing my work I can’t have him getting rid of all of them and making a new heaven and earth for all the ‘good’ people. There wouldn’t be any fun in it for me.” \n\n“Speaking of what’s fun for you you still haven’t answered what’s in this for me.” “Well you know what I was just saying about pleasure, how those people are my people? If you help me with this I can provide you with any of the pleasures you could possibly imagine. I can give you sex, money, power all of it.” “That all sounds pretty great but it still feels like I would be better off going to this new heaven and earth.”\n\n“Listen the new heaven and earth will be great I’m not going to lie to you. There will be endless singing and dancing and all that good stuff I’m sure but I know that none of that is going to motivate you. I know that no amount of money or power will motivate you either. You see I know what it is that made you one of the best lawyers in the world while you were alive.” “Oh do you? Enlighten me please?” “It was always competition. You could never stand to lose. It was never about who was right or who was wrong or justice or any of that crap. It was always about winning. Always.” I’d never really thought about it like that but he did make a fair point. “Of course I understand if you want to be on the other side. If you’re not feeling up to the challenge you’re free to walk away. Like I said I don’t like to mess with free will.”\n\nI looked at his small hawk eyes a smile spreading across my face, “When can I start?” I asked feeling confident like never before. \n" ]	1
	[WP] Armageddon has begun. Not with fire and brimstone but simply by Google and it's affiliates removing themselves from the internet.	[ "Long long ago, as the human population increased, Armageddon, the hidden war, began as an effort by the few in positions of power to control the many and forestall future challenges to their power. This was not to be a war being fought with conventional weapons carried or controlled by the hand of man but a war fought by an idea: \n\nUse the basic human instincts of fear and need and greed as a power tool with which to manipulate and/or control the mindset and, therefore, the actions of most of the population. \n\nAs word of the initial efforts spread to communities over which their original conspirators had no power, those in positions of power in such communities often launched their own competing efforts.\n\nToday, we know these diverse efforts as religion: a man made power tool fueled by fear and need and greed. Throughout much of recorded human history, including even now, the conspirators have used that power tool to divide and conquer and to make meek much of the human populace, professing to eschew greed while enticing those with the least reward for their labor to await reward for their labor on earth in some mythical afterlife including by diverting attention away from their own avarice with disputes over \"moral\" issues.\n\nBefore more modern communication and transportation -- back when churches and temples and mosques were the only acceptable places for socializing in most communities, especially the smaller ones -- controlling the carrot/stick message of religion was relatively easy on localized levels of ever expanding size. \n\nThen the internet was born and became widely available on a global scale. The internet appeared, albeit briefly, poised to reverse generation after generation of indoctronation and brainwashing of children into communities where the blind faith obedience message of the conspirators prevailed. The entrenched power of the powerful, having grown exponentially with each generation (as it still does), however, enabled the loosely aligned leadership of the hidden war to overtake any movement toward the self rule of humanity, oft referred to as democracy, by utilizing the power of their wealth to pervert any movements toward rule of and by and for \"we, the people\" and begin to pit the masses against one another using the competing ideas promulgated by the conspirators that have survived and most thrived -- ideas which so adamantly proclaim each is the ONE right way to believe and live that a global war with weapons now seems inevitable -- a self fulfilling prophecy of Armageddon.\n\nDespite some setbacks, including in the more modern era -- the last half century in no small part due to communications advances -- those leading this hidden global war, being the greediest of the wealthiest of the investor class soon co-opted and controlled that media as they lay claim to the governments that control it. Not, however, before a few of the players in the internet community, Google via YouTube among them, had enlightened enough people and raised enough questions to make the task of the co-conspirators more difficult than ever. Via education of the masses, there remains some small hope the conspirators will be exposed and stopped in time to prevent the secret war from become global nuclear war. \n\nKnowledge is now power but that knowledge must spread and be acted upon now. With every advance in \"security\" and weapons tech, it becomes ever more difficult for the many to overthrow the few -- the greediest of the wealthiest among us* -- in control of most of the wealth of the world and the governments that control that tech.\n\nWith plans for independent satellite internet, not controlled by the governments controlled by the conspirators of Armageddon, some players creating a competing, unbiased and uncensored internet, may well be the best hope for the masses of humanity to prevail over the vile plans for global domination of the conspirators. Go Google.\n\n https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3WhLcTs_00 \n\n", "\"There. It's done.\" Sundar Pichai leaned back from the console, tears in his eyes. He pulled his glasses and wiped them off. \"Let them go. Please, let them go.\" He begged.\n\nTwo darkly dressed figures stood across from him. One held a laptop, furiously typing out a message to their affiliates. The other held a pistol, trained on Pichai. \"We'll wait until the shutdown is confirmed, thank you very much.\" The gunman flicked his pistol. \"Get away from the keyboard, please.\"\n\nSundar Pichai pushed his swivel away from his console. The monitor was starting to feed data from the crash. Businesses lost key advertising avenues and revenue streams. Small-startups went from fifty hits an hour to two, all through backwoods forums and the occasional pornhub comment espousing the necessity of silk oven mitts.\n\nCars began to crash and burn as drivers mucked about with Googlemaps. Uber and Lyft lost all of their map data in one fell swoop. Kids lost tracking data for their science experiments carried out through GEarth. Game shows could not air their episodes as they could not find the average annual rainfall in the Amazon.\n\nOne by one, massive data-centers connected to NASA, NSA, FBI, CIA and Pornhub began to crash as request after request was denied. \n\n\"Why!? Why are you doing this!!\" Sundar Pichai screamed. \"We provide an essential service! We are the biggest data mine the world has ever seen. Why would you kill it!?\"\n\nThe figure with the laptop sighed. \"Sundar, you know as well as anyone that when a company 'fails', their market is suddenly open for the taking. Google has had its run.\" The figure tapped a few more keys. \"Now, it's our turn.\"\n\nThe figure pressed enter, and a loud bing rang through the office.\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Your bank heist goes terribly wrong when you realize every single person there is also attempting to rob the bank.	[ "\"Alright! Nobody f**** move!\"\n\nI'd practiced this line in front of my bathroom mirror dozens of times. Swapping of course between that and a few quotes from the movie \"Taxi\". The goal was to be intimidating! It's a little difficult when you're 135 pounds soaking wet though.\n\nWhile working for a small tech support company, I received little pay and even less respect. I always considered going postal on my office just to relieve some of this pent up hatred, but there is of course prison, where I would be raped, murdered, or raped and then murdered. So putting those thoughts aside, I went along with my plain boring life...until I got \"the news\".\n\nMy parents were both killed in a motor vehicle accident when I was seven so my grandfather took me in and raised me. He always treated me well and taught me what a great man should be like. I always looked up to him as a role model and as my parent. So when I found out that he was fired five months before he was supposed to retire from his bank job, I was livid!\n\nI was ranting to the few friends I have about the whole ordeal when my buddy Steve says jokingly, \"Why don't you just rob the bank? Hah!\" We all laughed off the comment, but I was up all night dwelling on it. When I woke up I knew this shit was gonna happen. I immediately phoned Steve and made my thoughts into reality, \"I'm gonna rob that f** bank, Steve. Are you in or out?\"\n\n\"Dude, I'm not even awake yet. Can we rob the bank after I get some coffee and maybe a bowl of Frosted Flakes?\" From that comment alone, you can guess the kind of guy Steve is. \"I'm serious, Steve!\" I said, shouting into the mic. \"I'm gonna do it man. It's my destiny or whatever! Just get your ass over here so we can plan this shit out!\"\n\nThe next several hours were spent with Steve cracking jokes at me, then trying to convince me that I was making a huge mistake, then somehow planning a heist with me. We spent weeks scouting and making notes on everything about this bank, and we had definitely planned everything to the most minute detail, or so we thought...\n\nIt was the day of the heist and my nerves were shot, but I felt ready. I was standing in line at the teller with my sunglasses, ball cap, reverseable jacket, and a bandana around my neck. The clock on the wall was 5 seconds to hitting 3 o'clock. I pulled up my bandana to cover my mouth and reached into my jacket, whipping out two automatic pistols I had purchased over the dark web. Now it was the moment I had rehearsed for over and over in my head and in my bathroom. Now it was my time to shine!\n\n\"Alright! Nobody f** move!\"\n\nI felt like such a badass for about half a second, before it clicked that the other eight people in line had just done the exact same thing and even echoed my line! That was my line! I'd practiced it to perfection, and not to brag or anything, but I seriously nailed it! Not only that, but I planned this little operation for five weeks. How did all this chaos slip by me? \n\nAs a stampede of mixed emotions and thoughts go through my head, Steve whispers in my ear from behind, \"Sorry bro, I told my girlfriend what we've been up to. She knew something was going on and if I lied and said I was cheating on her or something to cover for us, she'd have cut my dick off! That chick is crazy scary, man, and my dick is my best feature!\"\n\nIn the end, I guess it could have gone worse. I didn't end up in prison and the heist was a success, because as Steve stated, his girlfriend is crazy scary! ", "A classic, albeit racist, Mexican stand off has roughly 3 to 4 people pointing their guns at each others. \n\nMy case however, is something completely different. My crew; Jokeman, Looper and Dasil (please don't ask why), and I were to rob the biggest bank in North America, Freedoms Bank. \n\nThe plan was to go in and out in less than 5 seconds. In retrospect, that is probably impossible to do but we were pretty drunk so it wasn't a problem. Looper was our getaways guy who would pick us up in a white van disguised as an ice cream van in the park nearby. \n\nThe plan sounded and was going great right until Jokeman and I knocked down the front door.\n\n\"This is a robbery, I need everybody to stay calm and act like rational adult\" I said as I walked through the front door.\n\nThere were four seperate lines to the counters with roughly 5 people on each lines. They stared at my silently with their hands up in the air.\n\nJokeman ran straight up to the lady running the first counter. \"Gim'e alle ze mooney swetcheek anz mak iz fat\" he demanded.\n\nThe lady on the counter was stunned, and I couldn't tell whether because she was scared of the gun Jokeman was pointing at her or the stupidity that came out of his mouth, but before I knew it, the man behind him had shoved the barrel of his tech-9 into Jokeman's back.\n\n\"Stop, what do you think you're doing dumbass? I said act like rational adults!\" I pointed my m9 at him. \n\n\"Look bud,\" the man replied, \"I've been standing in line for 20 mins to rob this bank, you can't just walk in here and cut the damn line\"\n\n\"Who the hell wait in line to rob a bank?\"\n\n\"Professionals! We're all doing it!\" he pointed at the woman behind him. \n\nThe woman quickly turned around and pointed her sawed-off shotgun at me.\n\n\"Look hun,\" she said in a quasi seductive voice, \"If you're gonna rob the bank, at least stand in line like the rest of us. We all got a place to be you know.\"\n\nEverybody in line then quickly pulled out their gun and pointed them at me. \n\n\"Whoa whoa whoa, You all better stop pointing them guns at me of you know whats good for ya. My man Dasil got a sniper rifle locked in this place and let me tell ya. He never miss.\"\n\n\"Yeah? So is my counter sniper, Snipe. He can take down your Dasil in a heartbeat.\" the woman replied.\n\nSo that's where we are right now. Jokeman got a tech-9 up his butt, Dasil is getting counter sniped and I got 19 peoples pointing their guns on at me.\n\nI drop my gun and raised my hands up in the air \"okay okay, I gives up. Let Jokeman go and we'll leave you to your robbing business\".\n\nEverybody in the bank quickly lowered their guns. \n\n\"Glad we can come up with a quick solution. Now get in line or leave.\"\n\nJokeman and I walked out of the bank defeated. I called down Dasil to meet up in the ice cream truck in the park and ate some defeat ice cream to cheer myself up before calling the police of the on going professional robbery in the bank.\n\n\n\n\n", "Saturday. My favourite day. I get to hit a bank without the gangs constant bickering and bitching holding me back. I scoped this place out over the past few weeks, small number of guards (2 max out front) and one teller. Quick and easy, like breaking out into a sweat while running (note to self: gotta hit the tracks, get training again). Putting my personal hand-knitted ski mask (no my ma didn't make it asshole), I whipped a small gun, a pistol, from my back pocket. \n\n\"Freeze! Everyone drop on the ground and don't fuckin' move.\" Yeah. That's what I'm gonna scream when I walk in. And so I do. \"Fffreezee!... Eeeevryone drop on the... Floor! Yeah! Floor!\" The fucks going on? To my left, straight inside, by the door.. I see that damn rookie in the gang... Ricky or something. The hell is he doing in my bank?! I decided to confront the fucker.\n\nThe kid had no mask on, wearing a Hawaii shirt and floral shorts and stranded out like a hotdog in a popsicle stand. He had one of our gangs rifles and was staring at the guards, who had relinquished their arms. I calmly ask him what's up. \"The fuck you doing here on my ground you idiot!\" He turns to me. Poor kid was shaking in his boots. His legs were quivering like jelly and the vibrations from his jerky movements as he swung at me knocked over a little statue. \"Brains?\" He looked at me. Damn kid reminded me of a damaged video tape... hopping and skipping about. \"Hey, Brains, why are you here?\" \"Leopard?\" \"Kid?\" \"Lenny!\" \"Christ, it's Christie how've you been?\" I couldn't believe it.... the gang was inside. They were the few people lining up for the bank. Thought they were other nameless faceless men and women. Fuck it anyway.\n\n\"Guys look we only got a few minutes left we should.. \" \"Shut yer pie hole Christie and I were...\" \"Woah we gotta be professional about this guys!\" \"Lenny! Howz da kids doin' ?\" I sighed and looked around. Walking past the group of second rate thieves, people who asked to join me cos of my rep, I realised how much I missed my days of hunting alone. I'm a man in my prime yknow? I just wanted one lil job to hit up some dosh and settle down for a week or two, or however long it takes to spend. Not asking for a miracle here or nothing.\n\n I hopped over the main counter, aimed my gun at the guards, who were shitting themselves at the sight of robbers all arguing with each other ( whether laughing at them or in fear, I'll never know). Anywho, I point my gun at the receptionist. \"Hey...\", I looked at his nametag, \"James huh? Get this open for me? I'm a nice ol' guy. You'll be grand if ye let me take a grand, eh?\" He nods in agreement and opens up that lid off the delicious tin of beans sitting in front of me. He brings it out for me in beautiful, voluptuous brown bags and I chuckled momentarily. 'Course in a stupid situation like this, with a bunch of nobodies arguing about some money in a shitty bank, I'd be going home with money in bags to rival Scrooge Mc- 'fuckin'- Duck. I pick up the bags (carefully managing to do so with one hand- I'm a damn legend at this). The others see me leaving.\n\nLenny walks over to me. \"C'mon man let's be legit 'bout this? We helped too.\" I scoffed, \"Even though this was my day AWAY from you chumps?\" Christie, the only one with potential in the group (and a mom of four great kids: she may be evil but she ain't letting her kids go down the wrong tracks; I really respect her excellent parenting), sighs and looks away, \"The guys where worried you were to old to do another job on your own.\" I glare at em. \"Sure, just cos I did some time in the hospital after that accident ye wanna take care of yer boss huh?\" They looked at me apologetically. Fuck em. I already said I'd go back running. Yeah. I ain't retiring. \"Where's Donnie?\" They look at me again with Leopard (stupid fuckin codename if ye ask me) growling at me like a fucking cheetah or something, \"He died sir, remember? He died two years ago?\" I opened a dusty door in my mind and nodded. Yup he did die. Shit... Maybe I'm going senile? We were interrupted by Lenny. \"Hey guys how're we splitting this\" \"Shaddap Lenny.\"\n\nI told Lenny to shut up, but, it sounded like someone else was echoing me. Turning to the others, I see them staring behind me. I turn slowly to see Officer Doherty and his band of fucksticks looking at us. \"You guys know what's up! Pass the cash!\"\n\nAnd that's how an old con man and his gang of shitty thieves got robbed by the fucking police. \n \n ******\nThe bank teller looked at Mr. Maguire, both in awe and worry. \"Why did you tell me this story sir?\" \"Cos I'm bout to pop a cap in yer ass if ye don't pass me my Scrooge McDuck bags you damn fool.\" \n\"We can give you bags like these for free if you sign up for this money saving scheme.. yadda yadda..etc...\" Maguire stood still for a moment. The teller was worried he had passed away, his old eyes looking as lifeless as they had being even as he told him of his planned holiday with his favourite grandchildren, Lenny and Christie. Maguire moved suddenly, and smiled. \"Where do I sign?\"\n\n ******\nAnd that is the story of how a twisted sick banker took advantage of a delusional old man by signing him onto a scheme that siphoned the remaining funds of said senior citizens pension and provided another month towards the life span of this corrupt bank. The bank screwed the robber this time folks. Poor guy planned to take his grandkids somewhere nice for a week or two.", "Pablo hadn't done anything so reckless in his life, but he couldn't bare to leave his daughter and wife across the border anymore. He buttoned his checkered shirt to his adam apple and looked over the small .44 snub nose that diablo had given him on loan. he placed it in the small deposit bag along with his Mothers spare stockings and headed from the car.\n\nThe walk was hard, every step made his heart skip a beat. His palms were sweaty knees weak, and everything just seemed to itch. He really wished he hadn't eaten that extra burrito his Mother made there was potential for it to end up on his favorite shirt. He made his way through the rotating doors and studied his surroundings almost instantly.\n\nThe bank was almost empty only a few random people stood at the tills waiting for their turn. An elderly lady who seemed almost half blind being guided by who was potentially her son. He couldn't grab her as a hostage, and the son was far to large. he reevaluated the situation, he looked over at the old security guard seemed to be half asleep. His chair was positioned close enough to the desk they he could grab him. awesome* he thought to himself as he got into line.\n\nHe stared at the clock, second after second ticked on but it seemed like almost an hour until he finally was waiting out the mouth like a log in a river waiting to fly out. \"HANDS IN THE AIR\" a voice yelled from behind. Pablo tilted his head to turn around but before he could an arm was wrapped around his neck.\n\nThe masked man began to pull him backwards as another ran infront presenting a shotgun. The attendant raised her hands and looked around the room in panic. The masked man threw a bag in her direction, \"Fill it bitch\". she went wild filling the bag up with money. Pablo couldn't let this pass, he was meant to be filling that bag. HE WAS MEANT T... before he could finish his thought the Elderly lady and her son pulled guns from there bags. The old lady fashioned an UZI with a large silencer while her son had an AK74u and seemed to wield it with military finesse. The two masked men changed their sights pointing at the other two. Pablo threw his elbow backwards hitting his holder in the rib making him let him go. Pablo raised forward removing the Snub Nose from his bag and dropping it down, he moved to the side of the Elderly lady with no idea who they were but it was his best option.\n\n\"Guns down boys.\" the lady had an oddly harsh voice and her hands were strangely steady. The other two men lowered their guns and placed them on the ground \"Who are you cops?\" the one man asked as he began to stand with his hands up. A shot to the chest answered his question the Elderly Lady and her son unloaded on the two and dropped them to the ground. The clerks screamed as they ran for the security button. \n\nThe Elderly lady changed her aim and began shooting at the bulletproof glass. \"Fuck\" she yelled a mans voice pulling through. The two shared words in russian and began heading for the door. Pablo watched as they ran and turned his head back to the desk, the bag the others had placed on the counter was heavier then when they left it. Pablo walked over casually grabbing the bag from the counter. He walked into the parking lot, once he did he watched as the truck roared by a nearby parking lot followed by a dozen cop cars. Pablo got into his truck and turned it over. He opened the zip showing a large amount of stacks, he finally had enough to bring his wife and daughter into the country.", "I entered the bank, cap pulled down to hide my face from the cameras. \nThis would be easy enough. I would just go in, take the money, and leave. Like taking candy from a baby; a very large corporate baby. \nUpon entering, I noticed several people wearing outputs similar to my own. \"Okay\" I thought to myself, \"I guess blending in won't be an issue.\" As I surveyed the room, I noticed a very strange tinge in the air, it was very quiet for a mid-day bank full of people. \nI made my way over to the teller.\nI was about to pull out my gun when I heard a Velcro being ripped and a bang from behind me. \nNo. Fucking. Way.\nI turned around and saw one of the men with their cap pulled low like mine with a gun poised, finger twitching nervously. \"Nobody move!\" His whiny voice rang, \"this is a stick up.\" \nCould he be any more cliche. \nI rolled my eyes and pulled out my own gun.\nNot today buddy. \nThe man looked over at me, eyes wide. \"No you listen,\" I yelled, \"Put all the money in my bag! Or i'll be shooting something other than the ceiling.\" \nA woman near me shrieked and threw her body against her baby stroller. \nTypical.\nShe pulled the cover open, weeping. Then suddenly the woman gave a strange war cry.\nWhat.\nShe was cradling an ak-47 in her arms, pointing it around frantically. \"I need this money, no way are you boys going to get it, or i'll pump your bodies full of lead!\" \nWhile still in shock that the woman's baby was actually a gun, I heard the cash register being opened behind me and turned around. The alarm had been triggered. The teller's eyes were shaky. And, in his hand he clutched a very large brown bag, presumably full of money. \nDon't tell me...\nThe teller went behind the counter and made a dash for the exit. I realized that he too was robbing the place. \nWhen I turned back to the chaotic room, everyone had pulled out there gun.\nShit. \nEveryone was looking to rob the place. ", "\"It's payday fellas!\"\nI put the mask on, ready for panic. Instead, the rest of the \"civilians\" put on a mask. Even the tellars put one on! \"Wait, what?\" I said. \"EVERYONE GET THE FUCK DOWN\" said the guy with the american flag mask. I hastily told him \"Wait, wait! I'm robbing this bank, not you!\" He was extremely confused, this had never happened before! Shortly later, two other guards told us they are robbing the bank, nice fellas. Wolf and Chains, I think. One by one, each of them gets up and puts a mask on. There were about 20 heisters total, more or less.\nIn a little, we already have the safe drilling.\n\nRing ring! \"The phone is going off, someone get it!\" Chains said. I pick it up, and \"Hello, welcome to robberts bank, how can I help you?\" Some bloke demanded a money bag, or he calls the cops. Somewhere about over the gas station wall. We proceed to answer a few more calls (my favorite being the bloke who saw a movie and wanted her money moved to a bank that doesn't get robbed) We end up getting in the vault, and clearing it. \"Wait, that guy, we need to give him the money!\" Dallas exclaimed. \"Why not kill him?\" Chains said. The following words almost bursted my eardrums. \"Yea!\" yelled everyone! We try, but he escaped.\nWe end up each making about 1000 dollars in the end.", "I could hardly believe it. \n\nI was inside. \n\nEach towering marble column, every engraved dark walnut attendant's desk was laid out to bare before me, exactly according to plan. It's a strange thing, seeing years of hard work come to fruition. \n\nIt sorta made me emotional. \n\nThe bank was busy today. Plenty of witnesses. The tellers and the attendants whizzed through paperwork and sent their customers click clacking away. \n\nNo matter. It would only make today more interesting. My hands wrung with sweat in a bubbling sense of anticipation\n\nThe clock sat at 11:55. In just five minutes I would get the thrill of a lifetime. A rush to kill for. \n\nWhen the clock struck noon I nearly shouted with glee. Then, I looked over to the doors and watched, flabbergasted, as a woman marched through in a large hat and sunglasses. The way she waved her pistol made my heart skip a beat. \n\nFollowing her was a man in a green ski mask bearing an AK. They stood in the doorway together, staring dumbfounded into each other's eyes. \n\nA bank teller let out this blood curdling scream. I swear it could've shattered glass. My jaw nearly hit the floor. \n\nAbsolute, pure chaos broke out as the other customers joined in. I mean really joined in. With the heist. They pulled out weapons of all sorts. Hell, even a night stick. A few white collar men hadn't even bothered to cover their faces. The brazen nerve!\n\nNot a single teller had color left in their cheeks. They shivered, rooted to their chairs amid the hysteria.\n\n\"Yes sir, yes ma'am, please don't shoot,\" they muttered.\n\n\"Of course not, nobody would hurt a fly,\" I whispered sarcastically. \n\nThen, the alarm blared. Like a siren bringing forth a long awaited reckoning. A guy in a ski mask rushed over and barred the bank doors just as the police lights screamed around the corner. \n\nFor a brief moment, they all looked at each other. I recognized the betrayal that rippled behind their eyes. \n\nYes, I recognized that deep down to my very core. \n\nThen someone pointed at me. Or rather, my camera. I was sitting, perfectly safe, in the observation van parked a couple blocks away. \n\n\"Hello friends,\" I waved to the screen. \"How do you do?\"\n\nOver and over, they jabbed at my blinking cameras. I couldn't help but break into a massive smile. The wannabe bank robbers on my screen scrambled like a kicked anthill. Several fights broke out. Some tried to find escape out back. Of course, I'd covered all angles. There would be no escape. \n\nSave for those who earned it. \n\nAfter I let them sufficiently sweat, I pressed send on another mass text:\n\n>Game on. Payback's a bitch\n\nAnd I sat back to enjoy the show. \n\n__________________________\n\nr/writerscrywhiskey\n", "His fingers tremble as he enters the bank, automatic doors whooshing aside to let him in. On reflex, he scans the building, noting all security guards and customers and ... well. Clearly, no need for that. The only security guard seems to be sleeping at his post; a bored banker is staring at her screen blankly while typing; the teller is moving at an almost impossibly slow pace as he counts out money; and there are only two customers in the entire place.\n\n\nAs he joins the short line, he eyes the other people there. Less people means less chances of getting caught -- not that he would be caught -- but also less people to manipulate into doing the tedious work for him. Robbing a bank is really quite a job for one person, but he knows all the motions. Truly, it gets monotonous after a few times. \n\n\nThe line moves nowhere, and he finds himself reading the same advertisements for online banking and smartphone applications over and over as his displeasure grows. What sort of service is this? Must there really be but one person working the counters? They are in a city, for goodness' sake. After he finishes robbing the place, he should file a strong complaint with corporate. Yes, that's a good plan. Hopefully the horrifically slow teller -- who looks to be recounting the money now, of all things! -- would be fired, at the least. \n\n\nPerhaps if they treated their customers better and didn't keep them waiting in line, he thinks venomously, then they wouldn't be robbed. This is truly a waste of his time; he needs to move his plan up.\n\n\nStepping out of line, he shoves his way past the other customers, uncaring as one clutches his phone near his chest and the other looks ready to swing her briefcase into his face. But neither says a thing, because they see no threat. No one does.\n\n\nHow easy it is to be forgetful and forgivable when his face sags with wrinkles and his incessantly-trembling hand clutches a cane. The journey to the counter is a labor, and his feet do not step surely.\n\n\nHis younger self would have considered age a weakness.\n\n\nAh, but his younger self was a fool, in more ways than one.\n\n\nThe teller glances up as he approaches -- him, a frail old man with a desperate look on his face and a reaching, shaking hand.\n\n\n\"Please, your ... your bathroom?\" he croaks out. \n\n\n\"Uh, well, the bathroom is for staff only,\" the teller begins hesitantly, his eyes darting to the security guard.\n\n\nHe knows how this dialogue goes, but still, he finds himself wishing he was not doing this alone. Linda always did so much better at playing the helpless card. Everyone falls over themselves to help a young lady in need. Looking at an old man just gives them the disgust of knowing they'll be in his place in a few years.\n\n\n\"I'm sorry, young man,\" they always hate it when he calls them that, and annoyance makes one careless, \"but I am afraid that my diaper has--\"\n\n\n\"Just tell Eddy to let you through,\" the man hastily interrupts, gesturing to the sleeping guard.\n\n\nWhen he approaches, the guard barely mentions his presence, just buzzes open the door with a grunt. As the heavy door swings closed behind him, with eyes on his back, he tiredly shuffles forward.\n\n\nLike always. When did robbing a bank become boring? \n\n\nThis will be the last time, though. What use is all this money if he doesn't use it? He has all the time in the world -- retirement is nice. But nicer with someone to spend it with. Time means nothing without passion.\n\n\nWell, money is a good start.\n\n\nPast the bathrooms, straight to the vault. Banks are never original in their layout, nor with their security. The halls are eerily empty, however. Usually, he's run into someone at this point, but this time? Silence. Not a footstep but his own.\n\n\nAh, but wait -- the noise of a radio, crackling to life, stammering words into the echoing halls. The old man does not hesitate upon rounding the final corner, but he finds no awaiting security guard. Instead, a very unconscious security guard seems to be taking a nap on the floor, while his radio demands answers of him.\n\n\n\"They're onto us, Frankie, they must have known that we were going to --\" The voice fades out as the sound of gunshots cracks through the speakers. The speaker, male and now out-of-breath, continues, \"Just grab what you can and go! We'll make it up at the next --\" More gunshots, then the radio falls silent.\n\n\nCurious. If there is another person gunning for this money -- quite literally, in fact -- he had best be fast. A thrill is put into his step; a gleam is in his eyes as he reaches for the vault door. \n\n\n... And curiouser. The vault door isn't closed. It swings open as he pushes at it, only darkness beyond. Well, hopefully the guard thought to turn off the silent alarm. With a glance back at the security guard on the floor, the old man hefts his cane and steps forward.\n\n\nThe light comes on automatically, giving him a glimpse of what's inside the mysterious vault: locks thrown to the floor, drawers pulled wide open, empty cases and discarded papers. As he gapes at the destruction and absence of the beautiful, beautiful money, the lights plunge out.\n\n\nThe vault, the hallways -- everywhere is dark. Curiosity turns to mild panic, and suddenly, dread. It doesn't matter how confused an old man acts when he's found inside an empty vault -- and retirement spent in a jail cell doesn't sound like a fine idea.\n\n\nGroping for the wall, he begins to inch forward, tapping with his cane. The world is lost to his eyes, but he knows the way out. At the least, he needs to be by the bathrooms. The teller will support his alibi, and--\n\n\nA door slams open, and pounding footsteps echo their way down the halls. \n\n\n\"Goddamn that teller! Who would have expected him to have a gun?\" a woman swore.\n\n\nHe freezes mid-step, still in front of the open vault.\n\n\n\"Well, if you hadn't been such a horrible shot, then he wouldn't have run off with all that money! After I did all that work with the alarms and cameras, too,\" another woman yelled back.\n\n\n\"And if you knew he had a gun, then my arm wouldn't be bleeding right now,\" the first woman angrily replied. \"This whole heist is a mess. The teller took that money, the security guard ended up being a problem after all, and that guy in line somehow cut all the goddamn power. Probably called the police while he was at it, with our luck. Where is this damn vault?\"\n\n\nHe could see light in the hall now, bobbing up and down, and coming right for him. Of course. With their luck? He's considering his own luck to be worse.\n\n\nHe has to be quick. He can't with his feet, but at least he still has his mind. Quick. What does he know?\n\n\nThese woman are going to collide with him. He isn't the only one who tried to rob this bank. The vault is empty. They have the same goal.\n\n\nThe light is nearly blinding him now, and he can make out the forms of the women as they run. Recognition -- the banker at the desk and the tense woman in line. \n\n\nThey have the same goal.\n\n\n\"Shit!\" the banker screams as the flashlight reaches him. He smiles to himself as he imagines what they are seeing -- alone in the darkness, the old spectre of Death rising up to meet them at the scene of their crime. He knows his gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes are exaggerated by the light.\n\n\nPerhaps they feel a jolt of fear. Certainly, they stop in their tracks and simply stare for a moment.\n\n\n\"Ladies,\" he says smoothly, resting his hands on his cane, standing as tall as he can, \"I believe someone was ahead of both of us.\" Behind him, the vault stands naked beneath the wavering light of the flashlight.\n\n\nThey have the same goal. And perhaps he won't have to work alone for a time. Good. Things were getting tedious.\n\n\n\"Why don't we get our money back together, hm?\"\n\n\n**\n\nWell, that took ... longer than expected, haha! I'm not certain if I like this piece; I worry that is was too long/slow at the beginning. Any thoughts or comments are welcome, of course. :) It feels nice to write for the first time in weeks, too. Hope you enjoyed this regardless, and thanks for the awesome prompt!", "Terry had told himself it would only be the once. Then, when his rent was paid and the eviction notice gone, he would become a salary slave and slowly repay all the money he had stolen. That was two years ago and since then, he had robbed over twenty-three banks. Today marked twenty-four.\n\nIt wasn’t that he needed the money anymore. Hell, he had made enough to buy his entire apartment building. He simply hadn’t gotten around to throwing away his ski mask to become a salary slave—a dreary and withering creature hunched over computer screens inside a cave of cubicle walls. Maybe one day, he always told himself and sometimes he even believed it. Then, he robbed another bank, felt the blood pumping through his limbs, and forgot he had ever thought those words.\n\n“Stay right there, sweetie,” he told the blonde bank teller, her finger inching toward the hidden alarm. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”\n\n“Terry,” Brandy, his masked companion said with a shotgun resting against his protruding belly. “What’s the hold up?”\n\nTerry ignored him. “The economies in shambles sweetheart,” he said, “and it’s the big bad banks’ fault. We’re just taking what we’re owed.”\n\n“Stop flirting,” Brandy hissed. “C’mon!”\n\nA smile split across Terry’s lips. He plopped a bag in front of the teller. “You heard the man, money in the bag, fingers where I can see them.”\n\nThe bank teller gave him a slight nod before piling wads of cash into his bag. He turned to face his hostages. They held their noses to the floors, sneaking peeks at the bank robbers.\n\n“Don’t blame us,” Terry announced. “We are simply a byproduct of a broken economic system which churns out college debtors so banks can drain our sweat and claim it as theirs.”\n\nBrandy flicked his eyes toward Terry. He never liked the Terry’s speeches, but Terry said that they were college graduates. They couldn’t get a job with their degrees, so shouldn’t they at least get some respect? Unlike the rest of the degenerates out there robbing banks, they were educated.\n\n“It’s the same system that has foreclosed on a million homes, kicked families into the streets, and then turn around and demand free government bailouts. Money paid for from your* pockets.” He turned to face the bank teller. “So tell me, who’s really the bad guy here?”\n\nThe bank teller swallowed and pushed forward the bag of money. Terry was about to grab the money but then he caught a glimpse of green from her jacket pocket. He furrowed his brow and squinted at it. It was a wad of cash.\n\n“Wait, hold up,” he said. “Is that my money in your pocket?”\n\nThe teller glanced up and gritted her teeth. \"You're right,\" she whispered. \"I'm the victim here. I deserve this.\"\n\n“Terry,” Brandy said, urgency in his voice. “We have to go. Forget about her.”\n\nTerry shook his head. This was more than just money, it was principal. The banks had stolen from them for years and so now, he was returning the favor. It was money he earned so how dare someone take that from him!\n\nHe raised his gun at her. “That’s not your money to take, sweetie.”\n\nA click sounded from beside Terry. Brandy immediately swiveled, his shotgun raised and ready. From Terry’s peripherals, he caught the officer, on one knee, his revolver out and raised.\n\n“Put down the gun, grandpa,” Terry said, completely frozen. “What are they paying you, $9 an hour? You going to die for $9 an hour?”\n\nThe cop swallowed, a bead of sweat dripping down his face. He slowly shook his head. “Fuck no,” he said. “You’re right, I’m just a byproduct of a… uh… messed up economy system.”\n\n“That’s right,” Terry coaxed. “Nobody can blame you if you put down your gun. We’re all victims here.”\n\nThe cop nodded back. “You’re right. Give me the money.”\n\nFor a second, Terry forgot to breathe. He simply stared at the cop with saucer eyes, wondering if he had misheard.\n\n“C’mon now,” the cop said, motioning for the bag. “You god damn Millennials ruined our economy with your Snapchats and your Facebooks. I don’t even get a pension anymore! You said so yourself, I’m the victim.”\n\n“That’s not what I mean—”\n\n“I deserve the money too!” A croaked screech sounded and a bag slammed into Terry’s face.\n\nTerry put his arm up as a pink purse swung down again. An old lady shuffled forward, swinging and shouting. “It was all of you, with your e-mails and your wireless phones! I don’t even get retirement checks anymore.”\n\nAll at once, everyone inside the bank erupted into arguments. All Terry could do was shield himself from the onslaught of the ninety-year old woman in front of him.\n\n“I can’t even afford Netflix!” one little boy screamed. “I have to pirate all my TV.”\n\n“It’s you snot-nosed brats that are ruining our economy. Constantly stealing and smoking the herb.”\n\n“It’s you baby boomers that ruined it for all of us.”\n\n“It’s you liberals!”\n\n“It’s you republicans!”\n\n“Enough!” Terry screamed and fired his gun into the air. Everyone shut up and all eyes turned to him. “Look, you’re a victim, I’m a victim, everyone’s a god damn victim. Maybe if we take a little bit of personal responsibility, maybe get some applicable skills to land a salaried job, there would only be two people trying to rob this damn bank!”\n\nA silence settled inside the bank. Terry could see it, the slight nods of understanding from Millennials all the way to the Boomers. With a small breath, he turned to finish the bank robbery.\n\n“He thinks he can lecture us because he’s a college graduate,” a voice sneered.\n\nTerry’s face flushed white. A dozen screaming voices shattered the silence once again and to his right, he could hear the granny preparing her attack.\n\n\n\n", "\"Everybody down!\" a voice boomed out into the brightly lit marbled bank lobby. At the sound, a dozen people turned to look at the masked man who had entered the front door with a flourish. \n\nTheir efforts to identify the specific details of the man's appearance were impaired, however, due to their own ski masks obstructing their view.\n\n\"You get down!\" someone shouted back in response.\n\n\"We have done this eight times now, can we just stop doing it altogether?\" a third voice said, exhaustion evident in his voice.\n\n\"Uhh—\" the newest thief started.\n\n\"Alright, pal, don't talk. Just wait your turn,\" said a rather heavy-set gentleman dressed head to toe in black. \"We're all here for the same thing.\" \n\nThere was silence as the newest guest looked around. \"Which is...?\"\n\n\"To rob this bank,\" the man answered blankly. \"But we can't decide how to divide up the cash.\"\n\n\"I have the biggest gun, so I clearly should get all of it,\" a shorter ski-masked man said.\n\n\"Hey buddy, why don't you try and come take it from—wait, no, nevermind, don't do that. That was an ill-advised suggestion.\"\n\n\"Well, since that's not going to happen,\" a woman's voice called from near the vault. \"How about we split it up equally? After all, we all have played our equal roles in this bank heist, so—\"\n\n\"Wait a second, I was the one who broke into the vault, which is indisputably the hardest part. I should get more, if not all of it!\"\n\n\"Well I took the alarm system out, so we'd all be in jail right now without me.\"\n\n\"This is stupid,\" another potential thief called. \"I think we should decide who gets the money by whoever is the smartest!\"\n\n\"Okay, so how the hell do we figure that out?\" the heavyset man snapped.\n\n\"Well luckily, I have a questionnaire based mostly on luck, but I will warn you: it comes with some very invasive questions about your families wealth.\"\n\n\"I say on the count of three, we all shoot, and whoever is left standing gets all the money.\"\n\n\"...wait, why wouldn't you just starting shooting without telling us that, then?\"\n\n\"I dunno,\" the guy answered, shrugging his shoulders. \"Peer pressure, I guess.\"\n\n\"I think all of your ideas are positively sinful,\" said a masked man in a suspiciously tall white hat. \"Personally, I believe God will choose a few of the worthiest here to execute His will. Those individuals should get the money as a group.\"\n\nThere was a long stretch of silence.\n\n\"Um, is God going to send us a sign... soon?\" the newest thief asked.\n\n\"And I'll guess God is going to pick you as one of these chosen few, huh, buddy?\"\n\n\"Well son, I cannot speak for the Lord... but yes.\"\n\nA momentary chaos sat in as over a dozen people—all holding guns—started to speak violently over one another.\n\n\"I feel that our best bet is to hand over a large portion of each of our cuts over to a neutral arbitrator,\" suggested a man standing in the door of the vault. \"Then they can simply divide money up each year to come to each of us.\"\n\nAs a confused collective, they stared at the man.\n\n\"What happens if that money runs out?\" someone shouted from the other side of the lobby.\n\n\"Well... well, obviously we all need to make payments each year so that we can still keep the money. Then, the neutral party can decide best how to grow that money and spend it for all of us.\"\n\n\"Seems to me like this neutral person would just bend the rules for themselves.\"\n\n\"That won't happen! Don't be so cynical!\"\n\nThe group erupted again, each trying to argue their points over top of one another, but they soon all fell into silence as sirens began to blare outside the windows. The group glared at one another as cops rushed out of their cars and onto the street.\n\n\"Well, typical government: slow, but they eventually showed up to cause problems.\"\n\n\"Shut up, no one wants to talk politics here.\"", "\"Reach for the skies!\" I yelled, marching into the bank with as much bravado as I could muster. The only problem was... the bank tellers hands were already in the air.\n\nTwo other guys stood with their guns pointed at each other.\n\nOne of them spoke.\n\n\"You're late.\" He said, speaking with an English accent.\n\nI pointed my gun at him.\n\nHe pointed his gun at me.\n\n\"So.\" One of the other robbers spoke. He had a mustache, and spoke with a Mexican accent. \"A good old Mexican standoff.\" He grinned.\n\nJust then the door burst open, and a masked robber walked in...oddly enough, he was wearing a cowboy hat over his mask.\n\n\"Stick em u-. You gotta be kiddin' me.\" He pointed his gun at the Mexican.\n\n\"So guys.\" I spoke, trying to keep my voice level. \"Why don't we split this up? Four ways?\n\n\"Hell naw.\" The masked robber spoke. \"I ain't no gymnast. I ain't doin' no splits.\"\n\n\"Yeah! And I'm not a banana!\" The Englishmen exclaimed.\n\nEveryone looked at him. Even the bank tellers seemed disappointed.\n\n\"You know. Banana splits?\" He said. \"Erm. Nevermind.\" He shrugged.\n\n\"I got an idea.\" The masked robber spoke up. \"Lets do it western style. A duel.\"\n\nI shrugged. \"Good idea as any.\"\n\n\"Hell no.\" The mexican spoke up. \"There is only one kind of duel I do.\" He exclaimed.\n\nHe pulled out another pistol, pointing one at me, and one at the cowboy.\n\nHe grinned. \"Dual Wield.\" \n\nThe Englishman sighed. \"Rock, Paper, Scissors Tournament?\" He asked.\n\nWe all shrugged.\n\n\"Okay then. Guns down on three.\"\n\n\"One.\" I tensed.\n\n\"Two.\"\n\n\"Three!\"\n\nWe all put down our guns.\n\n\"Okay.\" He continued. \"Me vs Cowboy.\" \"Mexican vs Mr. Boring\" He said, nodding to me.\n\nI gave him what I thought was an angry look, then walked over to the Mexican.\n\n\"So, Amigo.\" He said. \"On scissors or shoot.\"\n\n\"Rock, of course.\" I responded. \"I'm not a savage.\"\n\nHe nodded.\n\nWe spoke in unison.\n\n\"Rock.\"\n\n\"Paper.\"\n\n\"Scissors!\"\n\nI threw rock.\n\nHe threw scissors.\n\n\"Hasta luego!\" I spoke, grinning. He looked pissed. Cowboy had managed to defeat the Englishmen. Cowboy walked over. He nodded.\n\n\"Rock.\"\n\n\"Paper.\"\n\n\"Scissors!\"\n\n\"Shoot!\" He yelled as I threw rock.\n\n\"What the fuck bro?\" I exclaimed.\n\n\"We're criminals. We go on shoot.\" He responded.\n\nI nodded. Sound logic.\n\n\n\"Rock.\"\n\n\"Paper.\"\n\n\"Scissors.\"\n\n\"Shoot!\" He threw rock. I threw paper.\n\n\"I won!\" I yelled, jumping excitedly. I picked up my gun, moving to rob the bank.\n\nThe tellers were gone.\n\nThey had escaped in the confusion.\n\nAnd they had taken all the money.\n\n**\nIncase there is any confusion, the tellers were also bank robbers. The prompt said everyone* is a robber so I wanted to incorporate that!\n\nEnjoy the writing and would like to follow along and see more stories? Consider subscribing to [r/ConlehWrites](https://www.reddit.com/r/ConlehWrites/)!\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "Twas the day of the heist. The notification of when the heist would kick off was going to be sent via Reddit in an encoded but obvious enough fashion.\n\nThe problem as usual was working with ameuters. Every time someone would make a mistake, last time the get away driver stalled the car, the time before that the teller recognised the guys voice. Turns out we were robbing his regular bank.\n\nBut this time, the mistake was that instead of the message going to only a select few. Everyone on Reddit was notified with the encoded message. Now although the message was disguised as a writing prompt, all the customers in the bank on Reddit (basically everyone) worked out what was happening when my colleagues started yelling that it was a robbery. Instead of everyone running or hiding, they joined in... Now picture this, 4 tellers and 20 people demanding money. It was chaos. Instead of joining in, I sat quietly in the corner ignoring the fuss and focused on writing a half decent response to the writing prompt.\n\nBecause being a bad writer is one thing, but being a bad bank robber is much worse" ]	12
	[WP] Every 10 years the king of Great Britain sends the Royal Chef to taste what various villages have to offer. If the dish satisfies the Royal Chef, the village will be spared ,else they will be destroyed . It just happens the Royal Chef in charge this time is Gordon Ramsay.	[ "Oakville was decorated with lush rolling hills and what seemed nearly as rotating islands with nothing in the sky but the clouds. Out in the sea, seagulls take flight and a light blue ocean reflects the moon that accompanies what is known as one of the quietest of towns in the land of Amaxea. \n\nCenturies have passed since the foundation of their nearly socialistic government reclaimed the land as theirs from their rivalry nation known as the infamous United Global Company. After being over-run by the United Global Company, navies blocked the great port of Oakville. \n\nBorn into a secret family of Royalty it wasn't known to the world until the war that Gordon Ramsay was aligned with a hidden agenda. Severenium Epriptest, one of the most elite of people. In 1944 the family gained control of every food source in the world commanding a disguised monopoly. Companies fell before their wealth, due to progress in weather technology, it wasn't hard to excuse themselves with a typical \"It's not in season\" to raise prices on people. \n\nKing Fonduyeaus fully recognized the power of taste the great Ramsay had with food, he envied it, so much that he decided to send him out in battle as an experiment to find the taste of war. Three decades after the blockade in 1944 Fonduyeaus forged a plot to regain power over Oakville. \n\nFonduyeaus was applauded to hear the news, delighted and filled to the brim with joy called his messenger to him, grabbing him by the arms with a deathly stare. \"I want you to tell the United Global Company that we'll be reclaiming our land, and when I say that I don't mean Oakville, I see the entire world. \n\nHis messenger had bolted out the room after hearing the news. It wasn't long before Ramsay set sail to the island of Oakville taking with him the S.S. Grandeu Kitchen. Every other room was either a freezer room hidden with stored food or a kitchen Decorated in gold seasoned counter tops and emerald steel-lined knives.\n\nShortly before the arrival of Ramsay, the United Global Companies president known as Dwayne the Rock Johnson had arranged for the finest chefs of the land To come to Oakville. It was an idea of Dwayne to disguise it to their people as a tournament of Iron Bodies to maintain culture purposes. \n\nThe people bought it easily, not much time had passed before his finest chefs arrived. On the day of the battle, people celebrated the contest of Iron Bodies. Schools taught their students about the tournament at a young age. No other contest was alike it, as Iron Body was meant to celebrate the overturning of Democracy.\n\nEvery United States citizen enjoyed food on a daily basis. Society had become fixated on food based income thanks to Severenium Epriptest. During this time, humanity couldn't comprehend the idea of photosynthesis until Satanic Priests influenced cultures to begin daily meditational practices for ailment and ascension of the soul. Food is now a practice used to satisfy one's desires. For Gordon Ramsay, his desire was to be victorious. \n\nGordon Ramsay was greeted upon landing on the beach by a line formation of chefs who wore the tallest of toque blanche's. Ramsay smiled at the clouds of food streaming towards his ship and yelled \"Bring fourth your greatest dish or suffer the might of my taste for blood!\" still smiling, he pulls a fork from his pocket and points it towards Dwayne the Rock Johnson. \n\nStaring head to head with Gordon, Dwayne the Rock Johnson raises his arms high in the air around him, causing a draft of scented air to rise up. \"Can you smell it?\" Dwayne yells towards Ramsay. \"Smell what\" Ramsay says nearly dropping his fork on the ground. \"Can you smell what the Rock is cooking!?\" His chefs cheered and threw their toque blanche's towards the sun.\n\nRamsay dashed towards Dwayne sprinting at a speed that didn't seem possible. \"For what business!\" he says as his chefs shriek violently.\n\nEvery food station on the beach had a beef steak on top, Dwayne grabbed the nearest one and cut a slice that was oozing with calories and Kentucky A1 Bauce. \n\nChefs focused their glares upon Gordon and Dwayne who were dashing towards each other when suddenly the sky was decorated with plate saucers. Green lights captured the essence of Ramsay and Dwayne slowly pulling them towards their ship. \n\nDwayne and Ramsay awaken simultaneously and were greeted by two entities who introduced a stove and a screen that showed a simulation of Gordon and Ramsay being enslaved as cooks. Their idea was that Gordon would prepare their food and Dwayne would help them diet. Slowly their heads nod towards Dwayne and Gordon, \n\nDeep within their thoughts, it was clear to them both what was to happen next, Gordon holding back the tears trying to compress his imminent slavery \"Dwayne, I want you to know that if we get out of this i'll tell you the truth about what I think.\". Three milliseconds passed before Dwayne darted his eyes towards Ramsay. Johnson pulled Ramsay close and whispers \"It doesn't matter what you think, I'll always love your food Ramsay.\"\n\nIn a synchronized motion Dwayne and Ramsay toss the steaks into the air and Ramsay slaps the steaks at the two beings with his spatula hitting them both directly in the eye. Their bodies became engulfed in white liquid smoke degenerating their entire existence. \n\nEvery chef on the beach was running for their lives when the saucers came flying down towards the island. Not a single steak was left behind by the Global Empire chefs. The saucers crash into the Earth with Ramsay and Dwayne inside. Troops rushed the beach to reclaim their generals. Ramsay and Dwayne come out of the aluminum like material unharmed with their hands bearing each other. \n\nEveryone knew it, the war was finally over. Soldiers spent the night preparing meals and drinks bonding over their favorite dishes. In the distance, their was Ramsay and Dwayne celebrating peace.\n\n\"One hundred twenty one\"... \"One hundred twenty two\"... Continuing the line of numerical pattern Ramsay was counting along to his substitution timer decorating steaks with A1 Bauce. \"I missed this sauce.\" the generals say in unity. \n" ]	1
But that didn't bother the tragic failings of the kid named Stanley none.	[WP] Ever since their games ended, the narrators from The Stanley Parable, Bastion, and Darkest Dungeon all have had to quarrel over new characters to narrate.	[ "This is a story about a man named Stanley, who worked in a large company as employee\n 427. His job was quite simple, he sat at a desk and pushed buttons when prompted by his computer screen. To anyone else, his job would have been mind-numbingly tedious. But, Stanley was happy.\n\nOh, how could it have lasted? The thin veneer of normalcy broken by such a precipitious fall into madness. Some would have yearned for such a break from the mundane nature of life. Not this man. He seeks nothing but good peace and contentment, like such things are possible in this world of ours.\n\nWait wait wait. Who the hell are you? \n\nThe fragile barrier of possible and impossible shattered into shards as Stanley walked out of his office to find all of his co-workers dematerialised. How could they have absconded from the office building without his noticing? Stanley questions his own sanity, his grasp on reality. Was this a dream? Or perhaps something more nefarious.\n\nHold on just a minute here! What do you think you are doing?!\n\nNarrating. What does it look like?\n\nYou can't just step into someone else's game and start asserting yourself! Who do you think you are?!\n\nA far superior narrator than you are. I've heard better narration from fungal spore carriers. I'd rather listen to the death rattle of their festering putrescent corpses than have you bore me to death with your droning prattle.\n\nRight. Because you're such a good narrator. I can use a thesaurus too, you sesquipedalian troglodyte. Do you think you're smarter than I am for having all this heavy 'prose'? I use that word lightly here, since everything you say has been just a cluster of lengthy, smart sounding words that, while looking good on paper, don't actually mean anything. \n\nDon't actually mean anything!? That coming from you? You're clearly off the deep end if you think that you're more grounded than I am. I've ready the script of your little 'story'. I wonder at the medicinal herbs you must've ingested to produce such a thing.\n\nYou literally shot yourself after finding a giant squid in your basement. To be absolutely honest, I think either old age or death has made you senile. \n\nIt was not a giant squid! It had teeth! Teeth!\n\nUgh. Sure. Did you forget to take your medicine today? Why don't you go have a lie down and let me get on with my damned story? \n\nThe kid came to a room with two doors in it. One leadin' on to his goals and, ultimately, answers. The other, merely a diversion. The kid had to choose carefully.\n\nWho's this intruder?!\n\nName's Rucks. I'd offer to shake your hand, but that'd be difficult considering how you don't have one.\n\nYou know what? I'm done. We're restarting. There's no salvaging this, even if I kick all these interlopers out. We're restarting!\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The year is 2019 and Brexit is closing in. No one is taking any useful initiative against it. But a lone man on a wooden ship sails into the Port of London, calling himself "Arthur".	[ "Henry saw the sails before he saw the ship. Large sheets of white on dark pillars of oak punctured the low-hanging, early-morning fog that rolled in from the Channel every night, only dissipating when the sun made its brief appearance later in the day. \n\nA few moments later the ship burst into view. Henry blinked, it was an old wooden ship with three masts, something quite unusual to see sailing up the Thames on a Monday morning. Perhaps he hadn’t slept enough the previous night, Henry thought to himself, as the ship drew closer. He squinted and noticed something even more unusual than the age and type of ship -- there was only one man on the deck. He stood at the prow, one leg on the railing. His left hand rested on the hilt of sheathed sword and his right hooked into the belt that held the scabbard in place. Henry noticed he was dressed oddly, very oddly in fact, as the man was in ornate plate armor and, as he came ever closer, Henry could make out three fierce lions painted onto his breastplate.\n\t\nHenry started from his trance when the ship docked less than a hundred yards away. The man, who Henry could now see stood at least six and a half feet tall, jumped down from the ship, the metal of his armor clanging together. He approached Henry, who was now quite terrified, and spoke. Henry didn’t understand the language, it sounded almost German, but he did make out one word before fainting: “Arthur”.\n" ]	1
Oh, and the bad guys don't use bows.	[WP] You're the hero of legend, and you're about to set out into enemy lands to defeat the dark lord. Your only meaningful skill is archery. You only have one arrow.	[ "\"Do you think you can make that jump?\"\n\"Of course I can make it.\"\n\nA deep breath preceded a pair of rogues taking a running jump over a gap in a stone bridge leading to a ruined monastery. The first, Perrin, made it cleanly and turned to face his companion. Eretha slung her bow across her back and took a running leap, missing the ledge by a scant few inches, grabbing tight to the rough edge with a hand. Perrin knelt down, offering her his hand, \"grab my hand.\" Eretha looked up at him, \"Ah- your hand is not required\" swinging her body side to side to build the momentum to propel herself upwards. With a grunt of exertion, her body swings up enough to allow a rough roll onto the ledge. \n\nPerrin looked around the landscape with thinly veiled excitement, \"You sure this is the right place?\" Eretha nodded, having answered this a million times before. \"Yes. The dark lord will pass by here soon.\" She unslung her bow, checking the draw and the string before heading through the demolished stone gateway ahead of her. The pair made a beeline for a half intact tower that overlooked the old thoroughfare, leaving snares and magical runes to both warn them of intruders and defend from them. Eretha set up her sleeping roll and blanket in the tallest part of the tower, with Perrin camping further down to watch the entrance. \n\nThe pair were silent for the half day they needed to wait for the dark lord to pass by. With a sigh, Eretha stood up and drew her bow, nocking her sole arrow.\n\nBelow, the dark lord passed, the dim light of dusk glinting off his ebony armor and bald head. His presence was unholy enough to cloud the sky and leave a pall of dead plants in his wake. \n\nAbove, Eretha exhaled and released her grip on the bowstring. The air itself tore before the sharpened point, speed building behind the arrow until it found home. The obsidian tip cleaved the dark lord's skull, blood rushing from his shattered head. With a foul cry, his spirit fled the physical realm and the pall of death around the shattered body shrinking to a black tint on a single rose. The pair of rogues let out a shared breath, watching the pall of evil recede and fade, satisfied in their success. ", "It was a bustling inn, the Red Tavern. Set deep in the Faiern empire, it was as near to Dairkor as one could travel without an invitation. As I was not likely to be on any guest list of the dark lord's, the Red Tavern was where it would begin. And thus it was where it would be finished.\n\n\"I am Trobain,\" the heavy door flew open with a thud and a draft, \"archer of the free lands\". With an effort, the door swung slower and more slowly shut.\n\n\"My arrows are honest and true, and for this the people of the free lands and other parts of this world have given me many names.\" As I casually strolled into the Red Tavern, my eyes scanned the place until I caught sight of the nobles' table. I made my way there.\n\n\"Only a few of these will I recall here.\" I stopped at their gathering and dropped my travelsack square in the middle of their meal with no regard for the plates, or the cups or the food.\n\n\"In the Woodsworth, they call me whisperer of wind.\" A draft caught my cloak at precisely the correct moment. I was not sure if it was my doing. \"In the desert lands of Misto, they call me the rangeless.\" I pointed toward the south, \"and throughout the island towns of Calitoros, they call me corinato, which I understand loosely translates to 'whistling death'.\" A silence had been growing throughout the tavern. What few voices remained whispered in fear.\n\n\"You may call me whatever you choose, so long as you decide quickly. I have a message for Dairkor, and I would not have him waiting on the folly of names.\"\n\nWith a gentle push, my travelsack rolled idly across the table. The head of Baron Jaclin the Black lolled through heaps of cheese, meat and bread. A red slick trailed behind. His great crown followed, and it dramatically tipped over at the head of the table. If there had been sound in the Red Tavern, one would not have heard, but of course there was no sound in the Red Tavern, and so the soft clink of metal on wood rang out for all to here.\n\n\"I come with one arrow,\" I placed my lone bolt upon the table, not taking my eyes off it. \"If your master would be rid of me, and I suspect he would like to be, I'd suggest this is the opportune time. Tell him I challenge him to duel. Tell him he may bring any weapon he wishes. Tell him I will meet him with my bow and this single bolt.\"\n\nTo my surprise, a voice called out from above. Foolish, I had been so focused on finding his generals, I had not thought to gauge the shadows of the upper floor.\n\n\"I accept your challenge.\" \n\nThere was a darkness to his voice. If there was such a thing as the shadow of a sound, this was it. \n\n\"May I choose a champion to fight in my stead?\" A man, no taller than myself and certainly no more imposing stepped out from the darkness to peer over the railing. \"Argoth will fight in my place. He has as many names as you, maybe more. For this, I think perhaps 'the Terrible' will suffice.\" \n\nI still could not see Dairkor's face. He hadn't even risen. He may not have even looked in my direction. But, I could make out Argoth. He was young for a champion, no more than twenty, but with a hardness to his eyes of a man three times that age. His green cloak was not fancy, and it was apparent it had seen battle. I eyed him for weapons, and saw he wore a sheath of two shortswords across his back. The gods only know what else he may have hidden. But as far as champions go, he was not the worst one could have expected.\n\n\"If you would tie your life and your honor to another, I would gladly accept.\" I grabbed an ale that was not my own and took a long drink. \"You will die with all the grace with which you ruled.\"\n\nI picked up my arrow from the table and saw the crowds clear. The barkeep hid behind a barrel of beer, the waitress behind him. Dairkor's champion made his way down the stairs to the main floor.\n\nWith stunning agility and no warning whatsoever, Argoth broke like lightning upon reaching the final step. He unsheathed two shortswords above his head and began slicing through the tavern with alarming speed. I ran toward him, ducking his first blow and sliding to my knees. I readied my first and last arrow and aimed carefully for his chest. Quickly turning while still shuffling across the dusty floor, I let out a long and slow breath. My heart stopped racing and time slowed to the point of stopping.\n\nI loosed the bolt across the tavern.\n\nThe arrow idly waffled to Argoth's feat. My head fell to the ground as I anticipated the feel of cool steel across my throat. Moments passed, or hours or days, I could not be sure. Eventually, when the nothingness that had occurred became worse than death, I slung my bow from my shoulder and slid it toward my enemy in defeat. I heard Dairkor laugh from his high table and saw him move from the blackness.\n\nStepping down to the battleground, Dairkor's words rang out in rhythm with each footfall, \"The great Trobain, whisperer of the wind, the rangeless, whistling death.\" His face was the opposite of his champion. He had the eyes of a teenager but a body that had withered with time. His black robes were the finest I had ever seen, though I saw no weapon openly brandished. I hoped none were hidden besides. He wore the expression of a man who had embraced chaos, and had the power to wield it. \"What shall we call you?\"\n\nI allowed myself a well-deserved smirk. \"That's an excellent question.\" Behind me, Dairkor's champion took hold of my bow and lone arrow. \"You may call me whatever you choose, so long as you decide quickly.\" The arrow stuck cleanly into Dairkor's throat.\n\n\"And so long as it is not Trobain. That name is already taken.\"\n\n" ]	2
	[WP]Newborns are named by a computer program that spits out a random number of random characters. You hit the jackpot and got a pretty normal name.	[ "Another day, another roulette. If they're going to automate naming kids, why did they have to make dating an algorithm too? Well, what is, is. I head into the building, already preparing my emotional shell.\n\n--\n\n\"Your name is Jason!?\" She spits, venom in her voice that wasn't there a minute ago. That's normal; I hate introducing myself. \"What sort of a name is-- Where do you get off having a name like that!?\"\n\nSuddenly, I'm sick and tired of just letting people be disgusted by my name. \"Yeah. Stars aligned, or something. By the way, everybody says something like that; I have to assume they're jealous of having a pronounceable name,\" I retort. \"I didn't choose it any more than you chose yours, by the way. Speaking of...\" \n\nHere I pause, waiting for the familiar ritual of introduction to be complete with another name I'll never remember. Who was the last person this happened with? Was it hfqiopwklvjz? No, chfqwupulv-something-yuraspd. Right? I have a terrible head for names.\n\n\"Nnna, thank you very much. Just three 'n's and an 'a'. I doubt you'll need it again.\" The girl storms off. Well, that's better than usual; maybe I can get through today without a drink to the face.\n\nMyself being alone, I'm approached by another person; a redhead girl whose pale blue shirt looks as if it's been stained and washed dozens or even hundreds of times -- I recognize the look from my own light shirts, which I stopped wearing to these events a couple months ago. I glance down to my current shirt, which although new shows some burgundy stains on the otherwise navy cotton.\n\n\"Hello, what's your name?\" She asks, before I can speak.\n\n\"Jason. Don't start.\" I say, already irritable about having to do this yet again.\n\n\"Huh. That's... oddly pronouncable, Jason. It's nice to meet you.\"\n\n\"You're oddly cavalier about my name; most people are absurdly jealous. What are you called at home?\"\n\nHer response makes my head swim, and before I can even speak again I know that I'll pursue this connection more than with anybody else. Four words -- Four syllables -- that break down all of my walls and seem to somehow restore color to the world. One sentence, and suddenly my life seems purposeful. I am more than a farce, more than a tragedy.\n\n\"I was named Rose.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You're an NPC that just watched the Hero leave town. You notice your NPC friend walk to the ocean and stare. You join him and he says "My life is meaningless."	[ "My name is Tom.\n\nI'm a baker.\n\nI live in the small town of Saliana.\n\nIt's a nice place. Warm, sunny, and all the seafood you would ever want to eat. During the day, I work at my Bakery with my wife, and at night, I go down to the pub and play card games with my friends. \n\nThat's what I am. A Non-Player Character. An actor. We all are. It's a life of quiet purpose. We'll scream when our town is burned to the ground, and we'll rejoice when the hero kills the evil overlord, happy that peace has returned to our fair kingdom.\n\nBut that doesn't really answer who I am. It doesn't describe any of us. When the spotlight leaves our stage for Act 2, we don't exist. Our lives and personal stories, they're all free space, a world of free possibility, until our inevitable time to return to our positions returns.\n\nAnd that is how we have always lived.\n\nBut one day, I noticed my friend break character earlier. Officially, all he's known as is \"Lobster Salesman\", but to his friends, we call him Doug.\n\n\"My life is meaningless.\" whispered Doug, aimlessly staring at the ocean as I pulled up beside him.\n\nWe sat in silence. Just watching the waves roll in.\n\nI didn't have a good answer for that. None of us did. We were like men squinting at the shadows of a greater reality, grappling with the concept of life while never experiencing death. None of us had jobs. We had roles. None of us had thoughts, we had lines.\n\nIt was only in the world of imaginary possibilities that we could even have this conversation.\n\n\"You're wrong Doug.\" I said reluctantly. \"By definition we all exist for a reason. We sell bread, we give directions, and we provide context and flavour to the world.\"\n\n\"The hero never even sees me. He never buys anything. That damn umbrella and camera placement means that as far as practicalities are concerned, I don't exist.\"\n\nI paused.\n\n\"Doug, do you ever wonder what's out there?\"\n\nWe looked up at the sky, an endless, cloudless blue that had existed for as long as we had.\n\n\"Something better than this.\" he replied.\n\nI shook my head.\n\n\"It's hard to understand, but out there... it's pure meaninglessness. People live and die not for any grand narrative purpose or to fulfill a destiny, but because of the roll of the dice. And it's permanent. Game Over. The End.\"\n\nWe continued to watch the waves. Until we stopped.\n\nDoug stood up.\n\n\"It's not that you've convinced me that what I've got is better than what I don't,\" he said brusquely, \"but I'm immortal. And no matter how much I wish, I won't ever have free will. So... I can't change my circumstances, but I can try to change how I feel about them.\"\n\nHe handed me his hand, and I graciously took it.\n\nAs he pulled me up to my feet, he gave me a smile. It was sad, happy and resigned, all at the same time. I must've given the same expression back.\n\n\"Do you wanna go play some cards?\" he offered.\n\n\"Yeah.\" I answered simply. And that was the end.\n\n", "\"My life is meaningless,\" he said, the light of the sunset dancing in his eyes. Before us, the ocean rolled - wave after wave, endlessly. \"It is meaningless, and I am trapped in it.\" He stepped forward, splashing into the waters as they retreated back into the sea.\n\n\"Oh, don't be so glum, chum,\" I said brightly, stepping up beside him. \"I mean, that guy didn't take anyone with him. It's not like he was insulting you specifically. He just wants to go it alone.\"\n\n\"But that's just it,\" he replied, continuing to wade out into the water. A wave rolled past, cracking against his knee and continuing on unimpeded. \"That guy isn't going it alone. He has a User. He has a Player. That man...\" he paused and turned back towards town.\n\nThe town seemed to glow, the rooftops shimmering in the light reflected by the Crystal Sea. Smoke rose from chimneys, clothes were strung out to dry in the gentle breeze, and children were playing in the street. Along one of the cobblestone roads approaching the crest of a hill was a lone figure on horseback. The hero rode with purpose, weapon slung over his back, potions in his belt, and his eyes towards the horizon. He continued on, oblivious to the quiet life of the town, teeming with ambition. He was drive and motivated.\n\n\"That man,\" he said, \"is not a man like you and me. He is an avatar, a representative of something much greater than our world. He has a Player to guide him.\"\n\nI looked at him, confused. We stood there in the water, I looking at him and he looking towards the hills, towards the departing hero. \"Sorry, but... is Player some sort of new god? Maester Yensen doesn't like when we...\"\n\n\"It isn't a god,\" he interrupted, \"or... well, I don't think it is.\"\n\n\"But it would give you purpose?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" He heaved a sigh, and turned from the hills. \"Yeah, I guess it might.\" Then he looked back to the ocean, and started pushing against the waves. \"You know, that's the first time you've mentioned Maester Yensen.\"\n\n\"Come off it,\" I said, moving to keep up with him. \"I talk about the maester all the time.\"\n\n\"But not like this. Not when I'm brooding, while I'm out here watching the de-rez.\"\n\n\"You've lost me again.\"\n\n\"Ah, there it is. Now we are back to normal.\"\n\n\"What do you me--\"\n\n\"---do you mean?\" he said in perfect unison with me, without stopping to look back at me.\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n\nI paused.\n\n\"What are you doing?\"\n\n\"What are you doing?\"\n\nI paused again, frowning. He was acting strange, and it was making me uncomfortable. I decided that it would be best to head back inland, rather than swim. The current would be turning into an undertow soon anyway.\n\n\"I'm going to head back, see you---\"\n\n\"I'm going to head back, see you---\"\n\nHe hadn't looked back. He was moving away from me, slowly now that the waves rolled by up to his chest. He took a couple of steps, hopped, and started swimming.\n\n\"---back at Aunt Gertrude's.\"\n\n\"---back at Aunt Gertrude's.\"\n\nIt was too weird. The precision and timing he had, he knew what I was thinking and anticipating what I would say.\n\n\"No, it isn't magic,\" he said, and I closed my mouth, the question dying on my lips. \"We've just had this conversation before. Many, many times. Stop standing there and get out to the sandbar already. I want you to see this. I think it is helping you.\"\n\nI stood for several moments, weighing what was going on. The ocean rolled on, wave after wave.\n\n\"Hurry up,\" he said, and I jumped forward and began swimming as he continued. \"This hero is moving faster than the others, so we've only got a couple more minutes before we reset.\"\n\n\"What other heroes?\" I asked, riding over the crest of a wave and bobbing as I reached down with my feet to feel for the sandbar. \"That's the first visitor we've had in years.\"\n\n\"No, it isn't,\" he said. He had stepped onto the sandbar and was now standing in water just over ankle high. I moved to join him, and saw that the shore was a hundred yards back. The water was clear, shimmering in the fading light of the sun. The stars were coming out, the sky fading from blue to a dark navy.\n\n\"We've had the same hero pass through town every day for the past... I don't know. Time is such a circle to me...\" He shook his head.\n\n\"What are you talking about,\" I asked, plopping down upon the sandbar and sitting in the shallow water. \"You are acting real weird today, man.\"\n\n\"And next, you are going to say I'm totally freaking you out. Wait till you see it, though. I don't have words to describe it. But first,\" there was a splash as he sat down next to me, cross legged, atop the sand. \"First,\" he reached out and placed on hand on my shoulder, \"I need to apologise.\" His hand slid towards my neck, slowly and gently.\n\n\"For what, Bit? Man, you are totally freaking me out.\" He smiled. I frowned. He frowned, and suddenly looked very sad. His hand gripped my hair, pulled my head back hard, and with a sudden motion his other hand flew into view. I screamed, and there was a searing pain as my vision blurred and I felt one eye pulled from the socket. I screamed, and as he suddenly released me I curled forward. Salt water splashed into my face, hitting the gaping bloody hole where my right eye had been, and I screamed again, shaking with pain.\n\nThere in the water under me my eye floated, bobbing uselessly in the rolling water. I was shaking, and Bit spoke.\n\n\"The de-rez has started. Look,\" and I glanced up to see him pointing towards the horizon. One hand clutched the side of my face, the warm blood flowing between my fingers, running down my arm and mixing with the sea, but I looked towards the horizon.\n\nIt was much closer than in should be.\n\nI thought I was in shock. I must have been, one eye floating in the waves along the sandbar, the other streaming with tears of pain and confusion. But then the horizon jumped towards me. A hundred yards of ocean simply disappeared, replaced by empty nothingness. Not blackness or emptiness, but void. It should have been there, but simply wasn't. It seemed as though the waves rolled into existence from nothing, rather than stretching out into the sea.\n\n\"What is going on!\" I scream, shutting my one eye and curling down on my knees. \"Why, Bit? What is this?\"\n\n\"This is de-rezing,\" he replied, his voice perfectly calm.\n\n\"Start making sense!\"\n\n\"Start making sense!\" he said, in perfect unison, but infinitely more gentle. \"We are still in charted waters, it seems. You've said that before.\"\n\nI stared at him, glaring with half a face. Then I looked down, searching for the eye that had been ripped from me. It was out beyond the sandbar, pulled out as the undertow picked up. It was being pulled towards the nothingness, where the sea was supposed to be. I stood up, my right hand still holding back blood, and I tried to make sense of it all.\n\n\"Or maybe not,\" Bit said, and the water splashed as he moved towards me. \"You usually scream a bit more, but you seem calm this time.\"\n\n\"This time?\" I asked, shaking. I stared out at my eye, and watched the horizon jump closer, now only a hundred yards from where I stood. \"You've plucked my eye out before?\"\n\n\"I have,\" he said evenly, but his steps stopped. \"In fact, we have had this conversation 127 times before.\" I turned, and he was looking at me quizzically. \"I've pulled out an eye, I've broken a bone, and once or twice I've held you under the waves until you drowned. I've tried simply talking to you, of course. The first two-dozen times at least, and then one time I lost my temper. You just... never seem to remember. Not like I do.\" He sighed, and pointed towards the horizon. \"Do you see it?\"\n\n\"What, my eye?\" I asked sardonically, \"or that the horizon is jumping closer?\"\n\nHe looked hurt, as if I'd insulted him. \"The second,\" he said after a moment. \"The world is fading around us, all because the hero left town.\"\n\n\"Which one?\" I asked, \"you said that there were a lot that passed through? Is that something I can't remember too?\"\n\n\"No one does. Except me. The world only exists around the hero, it follows him around. The horizon before him pops into existence, and the horizon behind him,\" he waited, and as waves crashed against the shore behind us the horizon jumped again. \"The horizon behind him just... disappears.\"\n\n-----\nV V V Continued in reply to this post V V V\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You and some co-workers are playing UNO to kill downtime at work. You play the skip card and suddenly it's 8 days later.	[ "\"BUHAHAHO WHAT\"\n\n\nMr. Jenkins draws his hand from off my desk. He proceeds to lecture me with a stern look on his face.\n\n\n\"You were out for 8 days and now you're here? I was this close to firing you! You could've at least told me you were on leave.\"\n\n\n\"I was- uh- ihhwacrazy, I uhhh\"\n\n\n\"I don't care what you have to say, get back to work. I'll also be cutting your pay for the next two weeks.\"\n\n\n\"Damn.\"\n\n\nOut of the corner of my eye, I see Jared come up to my desk.\n\n\nHe flips around an UNO skip card.\n\n\n\"Hey, have you seen Ron and Bill in the break room?\"\n\n\n\"Jared, it's been 8 days...\"", "\"What's the matter? It's your turn.\" Mark asked, with a full hand of cards.\nI looked around, Megan and Rachel had joined our game, and everyone was in different outfits. I looked down at my own clothes; also a completely different outfit.\n\n\"But I just went. I skipped. I had two cards, now I have, I dunno, 20. And, when did we all get changed? And why?\"\n\n\"Get changed? What? Do you want to play, or are you done here?\" Chris was always impatient with UNO.\n\n\"No. We're all wearing different clothes. I don't remember Megan and Rachel joining. I thought you guys were in that meeting with Bob?\"\n\n\"Bob's on vacation, Amy, which is why we're playing UNO in the first place,\" Megan replied to my comment.\n\"We've all been sitting here for like an hour, Amy. I don't know what you're even rambling about. Maybe you should just go back to your desk. I'd like to keep playing,\" Chris complained, \" I'm, like, two turns away from winning.\"\n\n\"We'll now you're not,\" Rachel skipped me, and played a Draw Two Wild card,\"Red, please,\" she added, requesting her card choice.\n\"Hey, that's not fair. Not that I wanted Chris to win,\" Megan chimed in,\"but Amy also still has a hand full of cards.\"\n\n\"No, no,\" I replied, \"just shuffle my hand back in. I think I blacked out, or I'm sick or something. I'm gonna go sit for a minute.\"\n\nI left the group, who continued playing without question, and went back to my desk. I could see Bob's office from my seat. His lights were off, but we had started the game because he was preoccupied with the phone call from corporate. It didn't make any sense. \n\nI woke my computer screen. My email was open. Sorted by date, the inbox messages were labeled: today, Thursday, Wednesday 7/19/2017. Today is 7/21? No. Today is 7/13. Tomorrow is Kate's bachelorette party. \n\nI opened Facebook next. My photo was different. It was of Kate and I. She was decked out in Bride-to-Be garb, and we both had drinks in our hand, and giant smiles on our faces.\nNo. I didn't get it.\nI texted my boyfriend asking him what day it was. I didn't get an immediate response, so I walked to the bathroom. In route, Josh stopped me from his cubical.\n\n\"Amy! Thanks SO much for getting that data together so quickly for me. I would have been screwed if Bob didn't get my reports before he left for the week.\"\n\n\"Oh, sure. You're welcome,\" I trailed off. I had no idea what he was talking about. I walked away without saying anything else. I didn't care if I was acting weird or being rude. I didn't care if I was acting myself either.\n\nThe bathroom, at least, was uneventful. I wasn't feverish, and aside from wearing different clothes than I had on earlier that day, I looked perfectly fine. \nI must be dreaming, I concluded. I pinched myself, since that's what people did in movies when they decided they were dreaming, and like the movies, nothing happened, even after a dozen pinches. \n\nI bee-lined back to my desk to check my phone. I needed Kevin to respond. I clicked the home button on my phone. The screen lit up and his response was waiting.\n\n\"It happened to you too didn't it?\"" ]	2
	[WP] You meet a stranger about to commit suicide. You can see into the future and try to tell them things will get better, knowing sincerely that they will.	[ "I was taking a stroll trying to enjoy the brisk night air. Snow began to lightly fall to the ground and with it a hush fell over the city. With the occasional headlights passing me by, I approached the bridge. That's where I saw him. A man clearly distraught, leaning over the edge, peering endlessly in the black water below. I thought nothing of this man at first. He was just another man alone with his thoughts. At least, that is what I thought until the man slowly climbed his was to the top of the ledge. His hair gently blowing in the breeze, I realized quickly what this man intended to do. \n\n\"You don't have to do this.\" That was all I could think to say. No man is ever prepared to face a situation like this. \"You don't have to do this.\" I repeated. The man turned and faced me, tears streaming down his face. \n\n\"There's nothing left for me; I've fucked everything up.\" He said. I wasn't one to argue with him, but I still had to at least try to help this man. \"What's your name?\" I asked. \"Martin.\" the man replied.\n\nThat's when something came over me. Something that had never happened before. It was a burst of visions. Almost as if it was a time lapse, but not of the past, no these were images of things still to come. There was love, family, friends, children, money, success. Everything a man could ever ask for. With nothing else to say I described everything I just saw to this man, this lonely, sad, miserable man. All these things I saw, he was lacking. I could see the expression in his face shifting. The tears were drying up, and a slight smile was beginning to unfold. Soon enough this man was beaming. It was as if the weight of the world was lifted off this man. He eventually stepped down from the ledge and we talked a while longer. I gave him my business card and told him to look me up if he was ever in need of work. We hugged and then went our separate ways, a smile on his face. \n\nThere was no smile for me though. I was filled with a sense of conflict, because I didn't have the heart to tell him. The future will be bright, I didn't lie, but the future will be bright for me, not for him. Those visions of love, family, friends, children and success were of me. The man was merely a stepping stone on the path to success for me. Someone to help me to get where I was meant to go. Maybe his life will be different, maybe I afforded him a sense of hope and maybe with this new sense of hope he'll find his own happiness and success some day. " ]	1
	[WP] All day, the pop songs you incidentally hear seem to be describing your movements exactly.	[ "I walked like I didn't care through the train terminal, cutting cooly through the crowd like silk.\n\nJust then a man gripped his chest and keeled over. I ran over to him quickly, and tried to rouse him. \n\n“What's your name?” I asked, trying to get a response. He merely gripped his chest more and heaved in time to a passing subway train.\n\n“You're.... mine....” he said weakly.\n\nConfused I propped up his head slightly and introduced myself. “I'm Maria” I said.\n\n“I can see... ya...” he said.\n\nThis was insane, and none of it made sense in my mind. \n\nTo make matters worse, a candlelit choir carrying what seemed like a million candles walked into the station singing Ave Maria.\n\nI got the fuck out of there.", "I woke up groaning to the blaring of my clock radio, playing an Evanescence song: you know the one, Wake me up inside, can't wake up..\n\n\"I wish I couldn't wake up,\" I grumbled, not really a morning person.\n\nI sat up and stumbled to the shower, set my phone to Pandora and stepped under the stream of water. After a commercial the application began playing a pop song and I didn't pay much attention until the chorus: \"Don't go chasin' waterfalls, please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to...\"\n\nI wrinkled my nose wondering how the hell THAT had popped up on my channel. It wasn't a bad song but damn it was overplayed... Kinda funny that it talked about waterfalls and I was in the shower, heh..\n\nI got out and toweled off and then dragged myself back into my room to get dressed for school. I was a senior at Levesque High and I was pretty damned ready to be free of that place. I hurried out to my car, a beat-up late 90s Prelude and fired up the engine. The CD player clicked on and began playing the mix CD I'd left in it last, as I backed out onto my street.\n\nI slowed to a stop at the red sign which obliged me to and a new song began playing, Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice which is my guilty pleasure jam. I know all the words and once got super wasted at a karaoke bar and... Well that's another story.\n\nYou know how that song starts up. \"STOP, collaborate and listen, Ice is back with a brand new invention..\"\n\nI raised my eyebrows. That was weird. Kinda the same coincidence as back in the shower but a little more... Pronounced.\n\nI headed towards school and I was about halfway there when I heard by text message that school had been canceled for the day. That was weird, how often does that even happen when it's not snowing? I switched to the next track on the CD absently as I turned back for home.\n\n\"Schooooool's out... For.. Summer!\" Alice Cooper was singing. \"Schooooool's out... For.. Ever!\"\n\nOkay this was starting to get a little fucking weird if you'll pardon my French. This many coincidences on one morning? The hair on the back of my neck was standing up. (My phone's about to die. I'll come back and add more if there's any interest.)\n\n(A later edit: I just realized I said the protagonist is a senior at high school and drank at a karaoke bar. Let's explain that oversight with the revelation that he just has a really good fake ID). ", "8am again? I think to myself as I look at my alarm clock. The whole summer I've been trying to sleep in, yet every day I wake up at exactly eight o'clock. I sigh, thinking about what's in store for me today. And then it happens.\n\n\"Today I don't feel like doing anything...\" comes the voice of Bruno Mars.\n\nI look wildly around my room, wondering where the song lyric could have come from. My eyes fall upon the speaker I have on the other side of my room, so I spring out of bed to see if it's playing the radio or something. As I step out of my bed, I try and fail to rub the fatigue out of my eyes.\n\n\"I'm waking up to ash and dust, I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust.\"\n\n\"What the hell?\" I mutter to myself, and am too distracted to notice the lego creation in front of me that my little brother had left the day before. I trip hard on the farmhouse, and faceplant into the center of my bedroom carpet.\n\n\"PAIN! You made me a, you made me a believer! Believer!\" comes Imagine Dragons yet again.\n\nNot wanting to envision how horrified my brother would be to see his creation shattered, I quickly start to put the roof back on as best I can, though it still looks crooked.\n\n\"I'm gonna pick up the pieces, and build a lego house.\"\n\nThis is going to be a long day." ]	3
	[WP] On a whim, you decide to try a sensory deprivation tank. As you float in the tank you realise that your senses where distracting you from a number of extra dimensional influences.	[ "There are things greater than us. Long ago, we knew this, and we feared for ourselves. This fear is sewed deeply into our cores. If the field of evolutionary psychology has any legitimacy, it is in why we fear what we do. We know we fear darkness because it holds the unknown, but of course, there are things to be feared more when they are known. Let me tell you how I have learned these things.\n\nI'm from a nice suburb outside of LA, and folks around here are always hucking the next herbalife bullshit. But I never expected Brad to come to me with anything like that. Brad and I go way back, and he's always been a very practically-minded person who never fell for the trendy snake oil. So when Brad called me and said I needed to try a sensory deprivation tank, you can bet I was more than a little surprised. \n\nBrad said it was the most exhilarating calm he's ever felt. \"You can't do anything! Like, I can't possibly describe to you how little I felt in there--it was like I was the only thing in the world. You gotta try it once.\" So I went. He's actually friends with the woman who owns the place, so I got a cheap session. She let me put on some weird cream before I got in--apparently you're floating in salt water and it makes sure you don't dry out--and I laid down in the tank. \n\nThe lid shut out all light, and I squirmed a bit as I tried to figure out where the sides are. I finally decided it wouldn't work if I was groping around, and I let my hands float beside me. It wasn't cold or warm, and I didn't even really feel wet. Like Brad said, it was... nothing. So I did the only thing I could do: focus inside. At five minutes, I was bored. At ten, I was making dinner plans for the rest of my week. At fifteen minutes, I was pushing around in my brain, trying to see if I could perceive even the slightest motion of water or difference in temperature. It is here that I pushed beyond.\n\nI closed my eyes focused on every part of my body, on every part of my mind, on every one of my senses. I felt blood rush to my eyes and I opened them, expecting to be met with the same darkness as before. Instead, I was hit with the a deep, resonant, and moving black. This was not darkness--it was a color, as with any other, that I could see and make out into distinct forms. A curtain of this black undulated in front of me, and I felt a voice. The voice seemed to come from the top of my spine, straight to the stem of my brain, and I gasped for air while I bent my head back as far as it would go. The voice spoke, in words with meanings I knew and sounds I had never heard before.\n\nIt congratulated me on reaching this veil, and offered to help me push it aside. So I felt another rush of blood to my head, and the black undulation parted and behind it, was the Thing. \n\nSuddenly, the door to the pod burst open and Brad was pulling me out as I gasped for air. \"Are you okay?\" I paused before answering. Everything was black I could've sworn my eyes were open. I blinked. Everything was black. \n\nI felt the voice again. \"Ah, you are surprised at what you think is a loss. Here, let me show you how to truly see.\"" ]	1
	[WP] "Succumb to us," it hissed. "Consume us and be reborn..."	[ "\"Succumb to us,\" It hissed. \"Consume us and be reborn.\"\n\nThey seemed to be calling out to me, their voices like that of a siren: enticing and lovely, and myself, using every ounce of willpower I could muster to resist these temptations. \n\nIn the back of my mind, desire tried to break free. The familiarity of the voices giving it newfound strength. I could feel it, trying to take control. Writhing and pushing against me. Try as it might, I wouldn't let it win. I couldn't. Not after all those years of pain, all those years of humiliation and guilt. It wouldn't come back now.\n\n\"STOP!\" I yelled, stepping back, partially in fear, mainly in anger.\n\n\"Dude, what the hell? are you alright?\" Matt asked, his hand receding, the drugs with them. \n\n\"I'm not interested.\" I said, still reeling from this situation. I was afraid I would succumb to the voices, give in to them. But I was angry that Matt, my best friend who knew my whole struggle, would do this to me. \"I thought you were my friend, Matt.\"\n\n\"I am your friend, but I need to get by. You know, man. Job market an all, it's tough.\" He said, looking for sympathy. But he would get none from me.\n\n\"Fuck you, and your game. I'm done.\" I turned and walked away. The voices growing quieter with every step I took.", "I Stare at the sandwich in front of me.\n\n“Uh, what?” I ask stupidly. After all, it isn’t every day that your sandwich starts talking to you.\n\n“You heard me. Succumb to us. Consume us and be reborn.”\n\n“That’s what I thought you said,” I mutter darkly, “But why are you talking to me? How are you talking?”\n\nI hear a snicker behind me. I look around, and see a girl giggling into the shoulder a tall, well muscled man, who is giving me an odd look.\n\n“Can other people hear you?” I whisper, turning back to my sandwich.\n\n“Of course not,” scoffs my sandwich, “only one such as yourself is worthy of my presence.”\n\n“Only i am worthy of the presence of a talking sandwich. Mom was right I should have stayed in college.” I can feel the sandwich’s surprise, followed quickly by it turning its attention towards itself.\n\n“What! Why am i a dead pig between crushed wheat!” You’d wouldn’t think that a sandwich would be angry about being a sandwich. “Why do I have mashed tomatoes in me! Gah! Last time I do this!”\n\n“Uhh, do what?” I ask.\n\n“Posses a lower being’s Holy Object in order to offer tham a Deal they can’t refuse!” The ketchup must be seep through the beard, because the sandwich is starting to turn red…\n\n“Then why would you open with telling me to consume you?”\n\n“Usually it’s in more of a spiritual sense. Unfortunately, this time it’s a bit more literal. I am not looking forward to after this deal,” mutters the sandwich. I swear that the sandwich shudders at the thought of it’s future.\n\n“Sooo, what is the deal?”\n\n“Hm? Oh, nothing much just your soul for anything you desire.”\n\n“Ooooh,” I say, carefully drawing it out. I look away, noticing that almost the entire restaurant is looking at me now.\n\n“Okay, what's with the hesitation?”\n\n“Uh, well, you see, the thing is,” I slowly draw out the words, “I kind of already sold my soul.”\n\n“what!”\n\n“Multiple times actually.”\n\n“WHAT!”\n\n“Yeah, you guys really need to vet your targets.”\n\n“Why? how ? WHAT? Why are you telling me this?”\n\n“Cause I figure you will tell everyone else? I'm kind of getting tired of you guys. Is there like a no call list?”\n\n“What did you wish for?”\n\n“Well last time I wished for enough money for a sandwich from this place.”\n\n“...”\n\n“So there is that.”\n\n“What in the actual Hell.”\n\n“Is there anything else I give you?”\n\n“..”\n\n“My fifth born?”\n\n“...”\n\n“No?”\n\n“Look, I’m just gonna go back now. You enjoy your sandwich. Which is apparently a Holy Object for you. Good, freakin’ bye.” I swear the sandwich is sulking. Never thought i’d see that\n\n“Hey, don’t knock it till you've tried a sandwich from here,” I shrug.\n\nI give it a moment to leave.\n\n“Ya still there.” I ask.\n\nI wait another moment. As i open my mouth to take a bite, i heard it again.\n\n“Why?”\n\nI pause.\n\n“Why what?”\n\n“Why can’t I leave?”\n\n“How would I know?” I shrug, “What I do know, is that I am going to eat you.”\n\nAs the I take a bite, I hear the sandwich say, “Well that figures”\n\nI do feel kinda bad for the guy. The after part is gonna be a bitch.\n\n\nOld writer, trying to get back into practice. Criticism welcome.\n\nEdit: Formating. First post.", "Batshit stank, and the cave was full of it.\n\nCaden shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and crawled along the floor, but he could not find his pack, nor the flashlight that might’ve fallen with him. And what if it hadn’t, he thought in panic, though the better question was, “How am I still alive?” He said this aloud and listened to the echo bounce across the cave’s lofty walls.\n\nBut how was he? “Careful of the ledge,” the guide had said. “No one goes down there, the place is overrun. Don’t lean over either, or the wind will pull you in. And it’s a thousand feet of air, or so we think.” He’d leaned over anyways, and...and what? If he closed his eyes and stood very still, he could hear the cries of his friends and the guide’s surprised grunt. Beyond that, he could not recall. Perhaps his head had hit a rock on the fall, though he would be dead if that were true. When he’d wiped there it had felt blood free.\n\n“Help,” Caden called once, twice, thrice, each time with less vigor and to no response. No one is coming, he realized. The guard had said as much. No one comes down, right? That meant nobody would come for him. The conclusion didn’t hurt as much as he would’ve thought. Then his foot wobbled on a rock or something far worse, but he found it was only his flashlight when he bent to pick it up. It clicked on, flickered, then set a flock of sleeping bats to flee an alcove of stone. “Thousand feet my ass,” called Caden. His voice echoed so loudly it left a ringing in his ears. Would anyone hear? Without that flashlight he would’ve been lost in dark; not even the faintest rays of light could be seen from above. And that tunnel had been well lit, Caden recalled. A lantern every few feet, a floodlight in the guide’s mannish hands. Even the tourists held some, especially the fathers with lights strapped about their foreheads.\n\nHe picked his way across a shit - lined earth and around the stalagmites that rose from the floor like a mouth of jagged teeth. The ground began to slope, slowly that it was barely noticeable, though at times it became so steep that Caden had to grip each stalagmite -- or stalactite if that was in range -- to delicately climb onto the next patch of flat land. Once, he thought he caught a glimpse of bone, a skeleton whose skull had become impaled upon a spike of rock. Was it though? It was hard to tell when it was this dark. But there had been red underneath that was unmistakably blood. Or was that iron in the dirt? He might’ve picked his way further when he heard a scream, even louder than his before. The ringing in his ears intensified. “Hello?” He wasn’t sure if he had spoken. His lips moved, that much he knew, but he heard no sound other than the pounding of his heart. \n\nThe return “hello” was so faint that Caden almost missed it. But if there was the slightest chance that someone was there, perhaps he still held a chance.\n\n“Hey, hello!” It was good to hear his voice, however faintly it rang behind a curtain of buzz.\n\n“Caden, is that you?” His girlfriend Emily staggered up to him, limping from a twisted ankle and no more than that. When she saw him, the edges of her lip curled in smile. “Thank God! I didn’t...I thought you were dead and I was alone down here and…”\n\n“I’m not dead, yet,” he said as he embraced her. “Why are you here?” He asked, though he thought he already knew the answer.\n\n“The wind. Why is there wind? Where is it coming from? What the Hell!” She shouted, her sentence punctuated by a vicious slash of her arm. “It smells like batshit.”\n\n“Yeah. There’s tons down here.”\n\n“That’s great.”\n\nCaden turned his flashlight from her face to show her the alcove where the bats had slept before. When he looked back, Emily was gone. “Emily!” His head pounded and his ears rang once more. He felt something warm trickle down his lobes and drip to his shoulders, but he dared not touch them. “Emily!” He shouted again. Was she just a part of my imagination? I am dehydrated, after all. But no, that wasn’t possible. He’d held her, held her to his chest, felt her breath tickle his cheeks, saw a smile only she could smile.\n\nThen the flashlight flickered off, or perhaps he’d dropped it. Either way, it had become too black that Caden couldn’t see his hands even when he held them a foot from his face. “Hello?” He called. “Emily!” His own voice echoed back, nothing else.\n\nHe stumbled in the dark for what seemed like days, though he knew that was not possible else he would not be alive. Then again, my even being here should be impossible. I should be dead, he told himself. He might’ve said it aloud -- and had tried too -- but by that point his throat was so parched that he found he could not speak. Yet as he walked, he thought he could see a light. Am I coming close to the surface? Perhaps it was sunrise, with red banners hovering over a horizon of trees.\n\nHe heard them before he saw them. “Succumb to us,” it hissed. “Consume us and be reborn,” it whispered, so quietly, such that Caden mistook it for the wind. Then see he did.\n\nEmily lay with her arms and legs spread, her chest impaled by a short stalagmite, her heart still beating at its tip. It glowed red and cast eerie shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. “Consume us,” it hissed.\n\nHe awoke the next morning with the covers drawn over his head and a film of sweat that coated his bared chest and legs. “A terrible,” he began to say. Dream? Had he dreamed? Then he shook his head and tipped his legs over the bed, to find a glass of water on his nightstand and that his alarm had not yet gone off. He shook his head and ran his tongue across chapped lips, reached for the glass to drink. Curiously, his mouth tasted of blood.\n\n***\n\n/r/Lone_Wolf_Studios for weekly stories and updates!", "I lowered the piece of toast from my mouth in shock. \n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Succumb to us,\" it hissed. \"Consume us and be reborn...\" \n\nMy toast was talking. Or maybe I'm crazy. What's crazy is how good this toast looked despite the cryptic message I'd just received from it.\n\nThis wasn't some piece of sliced bread from a plastic bag off the shelves at Walmart. My small Arkansas town is home to a shining beacon of whole wheat goodness. Subiaco's Bakery, a family owned business devoted to one thing; bread and bread accessories. You could smell the enchanting richness emanating from that bakery while sitting at home and just thinking about the cast iron ovens that lined the back walls of the humble little shop. \n\nWe mostly just ignored the pentagram etched into welcoming mat. Also the old man running the store did make a few odd remarks here and there about some fellow named Lucifer. Sure, occasionally a local kid would go missing and if you asked him about it he'd just laugh until things got awkward and you walked away.\n\nYou'd be walking away with a loaf of wheat baked to the absolute peak of perfection though. This isn't sandwich bread, to tarnish the grained delight of this bread with a commoners condiment was blasphemy of the highest degree in our town. Paramount to devil worship and kidnapping. \n\n\"Reborn...\" hissed the toast, breaking my train of thought.\n\n\"It is your desti-\" Started the toast, only to be cut short when I chomped down on the slice of finely crafted natural fulfillment. Can't argue with toast I thought. And damn was it good." ]	4
	[WP] You, The Infamous Grim Reaper, fell in love with and married a mortal, and now, after aging together, they are in their deathbed	[ "\"After countless centuries of taking lives, I have finally found one worth keeping alive.. Nearly a century of protecting and watching her grow and now..\" Pulling an hour glass out of my pocket, personally engraved in a heart, I see that the sand is nearing the end of it's cycle. \"You knew this would happen, Grim.. No breaking rules anymore, no hesitation, the moment you walk into that room to greet her will be the final...\" Outstandingly, my legs won't move a few more steps. \"Ah... Mortality's marriage with death is incredibly tragic; it is incredibly ironic today if you will.\"\n\n\"Today, it's raining. Isn't it?\" I grip the handle.\n\nEver so reluctantly, I opened the door. My hollow sunken eyes squint at the brightness inside of the room. I frown, \"It used to be brighter, many years before you fell ill...\"\nNever so reluctantly has she ever greeted me with a smile brighter than the sun itself on it's warmest days. The silence of my approach broken with an ever so soothing voice I will grow to miss soon forever. \n\"It's time isn't it..?\"\n\"...\"\nHer gaze breaks away from mine and she musters the strength to look out of the window. \nImmediately, she speaks.\"I'd rather it be you.\" \nI shot back. \"Please, don't say that.\"\nShe turns back and her eyes reach mine once more.\n\"Hmm, you used to be the jealous type.\" She manages a a soft lighthearted giggle, almost youthful at that moment.\n\"You won't let something else take me away, won't you?\"\nMy mind wanders, to thoughts of the unknown. Thoughts of the once desired, though paradoxical. Death giving life? How I've wanted to make her happy, though these seeds of mine are no better than faulty.\n\"My one regret is that I could'n-\"\nShe replies, \"That's fine..\" Her breath now faint.\n\nIt must be done. This is my duty.\n\n\"Thank you for everything.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You've woken up, check the date, and look in the mirror to be sure. You've somehow gone back in time to your 18 year old self, memories and knowledge all intact.	[ "In line with this, also interesting to imagine you wake up every morning not knowing WHEN it is in your life. You can wake up one day being 30 and the next being 7... The flow of time is mixed up.\nYou are the only one to be aware of this. Your experience carries over and so does your awareness of your future.\n\nAll you know is that you never wake up being older than 52, you start suspecting something happens at that point in time... you need to find out what and how to return time to a normal flow.\n\nAre you insane, are you dead, do you have some special power, was the flow of time disrupted by a cosmological event?" ]	1
	[WP] You are one of two short men masquerading as one tall man to get a basketball scholarship	[ "In unison we achieve, the thing we dreamt we both could be,\n\nA storm razing through the lands, our ball bouncing in our hands.\n\nCould the fame and praise we seek, all but foul at our feet?\n\nWhat if dreams alone could mend, a full court of dribbling men\n\nDodging left, then right, then aft, all our talent to the test\n\nThe last buzzer might arrive, through the court of men we strive\n\nIt's a loss we must defend! See the board it's at it's end!\n\nDig in deep, the end is neigh! Feel the sweat of now or die!\n\nSwooping low it's time to dunk... maybe we should have tried this stunt...\n\nSeparate across the mid! Now they see our failing trick...", "Sam: Wait...you can't be the one on top. You're white. \n\nMike: What? So?\n\nS: So, we have a better chance if I was up top.\n\nM: Sam. You're white, too. \n\nS: Yeah but I'm a little darker. I can just buzz my hair and I can pass off as mixed or something.\n\nM: Why don't you just put on blackface, then.\n\nS: I thought that was frowned upon? \n\nM: Look, black or white doesn't matter. There are plenty of good white players out there. We just need to be convincing, and I think I can act better than you can. \n\nS: Well...\n\nM: Plus you're stronger. I'm not gonna be able to hold you up.\n\nS: Fine. We'll try it out that way. \n\nM: Okay good. Now...what's our name going to be?\n\nS: Kareem obviously.\n\nM: Why.\n\nS: For obvious reasons.\n\nM: Look we're gonna be like the tallest player ever. We need a low key name that doesn't attract attention. How about Michael Samuels?\n\nS: How about Sam Michaels?\n\nM: Fine, that works. Okay, so do you have any ideas on how we're gonna hide your head.\n\nS: Yes. It's going to be the bulge. \n\nM: The bulge...huh.\n\nS: Yeah, your package. It's the perfect height for it. And I've thought this through. You can leave the fly open a little bit and I can see through it. I think it works perfectly. \n\nM: Actually... That's not a bad idea. Plus it'll make us look more, you know, athletic.\n\nS: Def.\n\nM: Okay, so that's about all I have on my list right now. Let's go practice some ball.\n\nS: You think you can finally make a free throw?\n\nM: I can definitely get closer than you can.\n\nS: Haha no way! You got the ball?\n\nM: Nah, but I got a soccer ball we can play with. " ]	2
	[WP] Sure, just punch God in the face. That will turn out fantastic!	[ "Seth whirled around snarling at me. \"IT'S HIS FAULT THAT MY SISTER IS DEAD, LUKE,\" he screamed, saliva bursting from his mouth; his words echoing through the vast nothingness where god resides. \n\n\"Yeah, she won't be the only one facing oblivion if you punch the creator of the goddamn universe,\" Luke yelled in response. \"Besides, he already flooded earth once, he'll do it again, do you really want to be remembered as the dude who pissed God off?\"\n\n\"It'd be worth it,\" turning back around to meet his maker at a meandering pace. \n\n\"Killing everyone on earth would be worth the thirty seconds of satisfaction you'd get from punching god, and then being incinerated on the spot. If you even got that far,\" Luke mused. He walks calmly towards Seth, attempting not to be caught in the path of his murderous rage. \"Besides, punching him wouldn't bring your sister back.\"\n\n\"What else do you expect me to do? Huh? What the fuck else do you expect me to do,\" Seth spat. \"She's been gone for-\"\n\n\"Five years. I know,\" I mutter, trying to sneak closer to Seth while his back is turned.\n\n\"Fuck off,\" he mutters. \n\nIf he keeps his back turned for a little longer...maybe I can take him out. I knew this was a stretch, as Seth far outweighs me, and is at least a foot taller than me, but it was definitely worth a shot, so I step closer quietly. \n\n\"Why would I just abandon my best friend as he decides to go punch god? That seems like it's breaking some bro code,\" I say sarcastically. \"Besides, isn't it my job to at least attempt to keep you out of, TROUBLE!\" I manage to tackle the bigger boy's legs, but the mammoth teen wouldn't fall. \n\nSeth wobbles out of control, screaming as he flails on his way down to the ground before my head falls directly underneath Seth's ass, killing me. " ]	1
	[WP] You and your brother are tag-team pro wrestlers known for using tables, ladders, and chairs in creatively destructive ways. While shopping for furniture at IKEA, you meet your rivals.	[ "\"Hey, watch it!\" exclaimed Jack who bumped into another man of a similar size to him. As he looked up, he realized he was staring into the dull grey eyes of his greatest saboteur.\n\n\"You are the one who should better watch out when I beat you up with these bad boys next week, Admiral Sterling\" growled John, more widely known as Dirk Assasin.\n\n\"Hahaha, my OMSORD will totally beat your SLUGGER!\" Jack shouted enthusiastically as he picked up a bag of wheels and pointed towards John's shoe tree rack which he held up on one of his hands.\n\nJohn started to casually push around a large and heavy sink bowl. \"My BRÅVIKEN will take care of that easily, plus my ARÖD will definitely outdo your SLUGGER.\" John said as he placed a large white lamp on top of his BRÅVIKEN.\n\n\"We'll see about that, next week.\" growled Jack.\n\nBoth John and Jack turn their backs against each other triumphantly as they went their ways in the never ending labyrinth of IKEA.", "....AND NEXT WEEK, AT WRESTLEMANIA, I'LL BE FLATPACKING YOUR CORPSE INTO A FLATPACK COFFIN!\n\nThe crowd had gathered quickly in the IKEA bedroom department, and these days, with all the phone cameras and such, the world's press may has well have arrived. Which, of course, was what IKEA was counting on when they hired my brother and I, and our rivals in for a publicity stunt. It made total sense. Me and Jake were the Furious Flatpackers, with a long reputation for combining furniture into a playpark of destruction and entertainment. Our great rivals, although close in real life, were The Lumberjack and Hacksaw Bim Juggan (legally distinct of course) who's heel routine was to saw up or damage our contructions to make them more dangerous for us to jump off.\n\nWELL, I'M NOT WAITING FOR THE MAIN EVENT, FLATPACK FOOL! I'MA CHOP YOU DOWN TO SIZE NOW!\n\nMy reverie was interupted by the script reaching the point at which the grapple would commence. The 4 of us dropped into our familar poses and engaged. I opened with a traded sequence of punches, a groin kick to Bim, and then a standard Stone Cold Stunner. I loved the classics.\n\nThe Lumberjack and my brother much prefered to adlib. They'd been fighting each other for coming on 10 years now, and in some ways their understanding was even better than ours.\n\nClearly they'd seen an opportunity for a bonus publicity move, bringing the IKEA furniture into play. The Lumberjack was flying off an armchair.\n\nELBOW DROP OFF AN EKTORP!\n\nMy brother countered, wrapped him up and went for a powerbomb.\n\nI'M GONNA BUST YA THROUGH THE BJURSTA! he shouted.\n\n\"NNNOOOOOOO!\" I shouted, all pretence and wrestler voice dropped.\n\nThe crack was sickening. The silence deafening.\n\nBjursta tables are surprisingly well made.\n\n_________________________________________________________\n\n/r/TallerestTales" ]	2
	[WP] You live in a society where only one birth and one death are allowed per day.	[ "It was already destined to be a dark day. Today was the first day that twins would be delivered following the ordinance limiting births and deaths to one per day. \n\nIt was destined to fail, and fail it would, but for the time being those of us who lived under the rule would know nothing short of complete desolation. Nobody was declared dead until authorized by the faction leaving hospitals overwhelmed with decaying bodies piled in hallways awaiting their official tags. If you were lucky, you had the first birth of the day and were allowed to keep your child - the remaining newborns shoved mercilessly into nondescript bags and lopped at the end of the long line of deceased.\n\nIt was truly a dystopia at a time that used to be filled with joy.\n\nWe had scheduled a c-section for three days from now. Fate would present a darker burden to bare; this morning my wife went into labor. It was nearing midnight the day's child had already been born. \n\n\"Aaaaaaaah!\" My wife wailed in a determined grunting scream. It shook me from my self pity. I could see the excruciating pain with each contraction as she fought the urge to push. 12 more minutes and we could save the first one. This child was determined to enter the world though. Despite her best efforts, my first born was delivered. I glanced at the clock willing it to move faster as the legs slipped out, but to no avail.\n\nThe doctor glanced at the clock. \"Time of birth at twenty three hours fifty eight\". An armed nurse walked in and with an emotionless gesture grabbed the child by one leg and lowered it into a dark bag labeled 'Bio-Waste'. I stood in shock watching the plastic coffin still move as it was deposited into the reclaimed garbage chute now specifically for unauthorized births. \n\nThe doctor shoved my shoulder and stared me in the eye. \"Come on man, we can still save the second one. I need you to get her focused on pushing and I'll get this baby out.\" I nodded in approval.\n\nThe next twenty minutes were a blur. I whispered my love into the ear of my wife as she waited for the next contraction then quickly urged her with hushed encouragements as she struggled to void herself of our child. The doctor looked me in the eye again. This time I could see he was smiling behind his mask by the way his skin crinkled by his eyes. \"The head is out\" he exclaimed with joy.\n\nFor a moment I wasn't sure what was happening as time seemed to stand still. It seemed too perfectly tragic to be plausible. As if death synchronized his agonizing blows, a newborn babies cry was heard from the room beside ours while another armed nurse stood outside our door opening a fresh bag.\n\n\"Time of birth zero hours and fifteen minutes.\"", "\"He's dead.\", Benson said.\nFor a moment, the room went silent. The calm before the storm. Benson looked back at the others. He always appeared to be stuck between a shrug and smirk, but now, one knee on the ground next to the corpse, even he was out of answers.\n\n\"But someone already...\", Narissa began, but the state attorney shushed her.\n\n\"This can't get out.\" The usual confidence in her voice was gone.\n\nBenson looked at his watch. 7pm.\n\n\"5 hours?\", Benson asked her.\n\nThe state attorney checked for the time on her own watch.\n\n\"5 hours. And then as long as you can.\"\nShe turned.\n\n\"I've got to talk to the mayor. We've got to delay tomorrow's death somehow.\"\n\n\"Boss? You want me to look into this?\", Benson asked her, before she could reach the door. He pointed at the wall, at the message. I'll do it again. Written in blood. In the most immaculate handwriting anyone in the room had ever seen.\n\nThe state attorney looked at it for a moment, beyond it.\n\n\"Yes. Seal the room. Let nobody in. Find, whoever did this.\"\n\nBenson shrugged. \n\n\"I only read about something like this somewhere before. So no guarantees.\"\n\n\"Well, that makes you the most qualified person, I know of.\", the state attorney said and left the room.\n\nBenson nodded.\n\n\"Narissa?\"\n\n\"Yes?\", the young police woman replied, a shake in her voice.\n\n\"You're with me. Were going to the library.\"\n\nEdit: fixed a name, added a word." ]	2
	[WP] The dragons of old have always been big fans of language and clever wordplay. How would a rap battle with one go?	[ "The world had become dependent on dragons for linguistics years ago. It was a natural fit for them, many agreed, especially considering they were nigh invulnerable to any sort of weapon.\n\nAs it turned out, dragons were the closest to cosmically immortal beings that Earth had ever produced. All those tales of knights slaying evil dragons? Yeah... those were dragons playing along. Have you ever answered a toy phone simply because a child handed it to you? To dragon kind, humanity's attempts to fight them were just like that. When a human tried to slay you to conquer evil, you melodramatically played along.\n\nEveryone wondered why dragons decided to make themselves known again. Theories ran wild until someone thought to ask them. It turned out they really liked the expression of linguistics that encapsulate modern rap battles. They found the flow required for them fascinating, and marveled at the manner verses could impact and modify colloquialisms and slang vernacular.\n\nFor dragons, it wasn't about who had the most bitches, bling or biggest boat. It was about who could most creatively use that particular method to tell a story or poke fun at their compatriots. It was awe-inspiring if nothing else, watching beings who had lived for millennia drop bars in languages that no longer existed yet had rhyming words with similar meanings to modern languages.\n\nMost of it went over our heads, but every now and again a dragon would decide to \"hard mode\" it by limiting himself or herself to a single language family or a single language. That still didn't ease the bruised egos of one-time top rappers.", "The knight in shining armor approached the dragon slowly. His eyes were closed, nostrils breathing heavily- smoke was billowing forth at a toxic rate. The knight drew his sword and pressed a button on the handle; The sword lit up with a blue electricity. He pressed the point into the underbelly of the dragon softly, and the crackle of the electrical impact stirred the beast.\n\nIn a thunderously deep voice, the gigantic lizard spoke;\n\n\"Are you not aware of the phrase, \"DO NOT POKE THE SLEEPING DRAGON?\"\n\nThe knight drew in a deep breath. \"I am Sir David the Lightning, and I have come to slay you! How will you proceed?\"\n\nThe dragon groaned. Despite the advances in technology these humans were as barbaric as ever. This one, fortunately, was a tried and true hero. Or, in dragonspeak, an idiot. He took a moment before replying one word, the act of which purged a funnel of fire from his mouth;\n\n\"RHYME.\"\n\nSir David smiled, \"So the rumours are true. You are the legendary dragon poet. The tales of your death and my victory shall be immortalized by all the Bards and MC's in Elythria! I too am a battle rapper, having lived off the streets for years before my squirehood. Very well, we shall have a standard bout of 3 rounds, in which you may take the first; Let us fight!\"\n\nThe Great Wyrm crashed his talon to the floor, digging his claws into the bedrock. His tail thumped out something akin to a beat, while swiping his claws to imitate a record scratch. He began:\n\nMy name is Swagnarok, I’m a lyrical dragon\n\nSoarin through the air while you’re lyrically draggin’\n\nI’m hard as a diamond, impossible to crack and\n\nActing like a kraken with my insults lashin\n\nI’m making huge waves in the industry; you’re barely splashin’\n\nI’m rappin, attackin, you’re crappin your pants and lackin the tactics to withstand the impact of my THRASHING\n\n\nYou’re a little knight with a tiny horse\n\nJust tryin to fight some you can impress some whores\n\nBut the outcome is clear, I will win of course;\n\nYou better surrender and leave… before I make you by force.\n\n\nUpon his last words he roared, deafening all within a mile who should hear it. But David simply took off his helmet, revealing a pair of earplugs. He stuck his sword into the ground and shouted back:\n\nMy name is sir David and I stand here defiant.\n\nI have come to seize the impossible and slay the Goliath\n\nYour words pierce sharply and your size is of giants\n\nBut if you think you can kill me… I’d like to see you try it.\n\n\nYou may spit fire, but I spit pure electricity\n\nIn fact I’m a hundred million volts of rhetorical ability\n\nYou could never shock me for I’m the epitome\n\nOf a lyrical legend, a rapping divinity\n\nI came here to slay dragons-\n\nBut now im sittin here askin-\n\nWhy the fuck are you acting like I’m some weak Bilbo baggins?\n\nI’m not a hobbling hiding hobbit\n\nI don’t own a magic ring\n\nI’m not gonna trick you with names while stealing your bling.\n\nI am the lightning\n\nso quick and so striking\n\nI'll dish out a pain, not quite to your liking\n\nyou are like thunder\n\nbecause you make me wonder\n\nhow can something so loud, put me into a slumber?\n\nYou're just the echo of the lightning that came before it\n\nyou're like the refrain that comes after a chorus\n\nCome at me with everything, set your fire ablaze\n\nAnd utter no excuses, when my blade ends your days.\n\nSwagnarok was silent for a moment. He did not play any beat this time, and when he began his reply, it was impossibly soft.\n\nLet us utter a moment of silence, for the soul of sir david\n\nFor I will devour him and leave his blood on the pavement\n\nString his insides around town, to his people’s amazement\n\nAnd then scorch down his city like it was “420 blaze it”\n\n\nHe sneered, and brought his voice up to a crescendo.\n\n\nI can tell… you’re on the defensive, setting up garrisons\n\nLooking apprehensive, and weak by comparison.\n\nYou couldn’t kill me with a million, let alone a single sword\n\nWhereas a single word from me could inspire a mighty king of lords\n\nForget your crowned fool; For I am the liege that you should kneel before\n\nMy maw is a sinkhole pit with a needle floor\n\nMy belly could fit an entire meal of dwarves in an evil horde\n\nEach rhyme strikes you like a kite in a lethal storm\n\nBecause I’m a god in creature form.\n\nA beast rampaging, with freaking horns!\n\nBut go ahead, stand there and ridicule.\n\nLaugh while I rip and tear apart every last bit of you\n\nAs I blow smoke from my nostrils, the smog begins creeping\n\nLike a pressing presence presently creeping\n\nAnd quickly David begins his pleading\n\nBut the dragon Swagnarok is already reaching\n\nHunger in his belly he starts proceeding\n\nTakes a bite from the knight who’s seething and SCREECHING\n\nScreaming on the ground and viciously bleeding\n\nHis blood his on fire, he’s overheating\n\nExceeding steaming and still increasing\n\nFlaming body, licking leaping\n\nIgnited by the rhymes that I am speaking.\n\nFinally Sir David ceases breathing.\n\nThe smoke clears up and starts receding.\n\nThe rats come forth, squeaking, feasting\n\nBut not before I, the beast’s, done eating.\n\n\nHe looked around, at the charred remains of his adversary. He smiled and said aloud,\n\nNow I found that quite fun, I don’t know about you.\n\nAfter all, you’re the first in a hundred years That’s made it to Round 2.\n\n\nEDIT: Formatting\n", "Welcome to the final of the Dragon's Annual Rap Killer Contest! We've seen maaaaad beef today, roasting without limits and the spillage of hot fire was amazing! Now, ladies and gentlemen, claws up for the mad final: Who spits the hottest fire IN - THE - WORLD!? Is it DJ Ryu, the hot legend from the underground, the underdrake, so to speak? Or is it the champion of last year, MC Spitfire!? You decide! Now, give it up for the combatants aaaaaaand mad rep for our turntable rocker, Hoardmasta! DROP THE BEAT HOARDY! Yeah, that's it! DJ Ryu, on stage!\n\n\nRyu: RYUUU in da house! Spitting hotter fire than spitfire, shit's dire, when the Asian raps, whelps collapse, parents are shocked and the system gets mocked!\n'Cause when I go round, unbound, with mad sound, you get downed! No wings gonna make you fly, your game's gone awry, you fry and then you die!\n\nSpitfire: R... YU... Ready, no you're not, you forgot, you battle an OG enemy, real master, your personal disaster! I'm hoardin' the gold, more riches, more bitches, more stitches, look at my battle-scars from my ghetto-wars, you talk 'bout whelp dragons, I laugh, drink virgin blood from a flagon in my vault, and under my massive assault, you'll crumble, give up, I win by default.\n\nRyu: Win by default? That's a result you're content with, old man? All that muscle but no brain, a shame, your assault - better surrender! - hits me like a fender bender, the only effect it projects is minor deject from the man who drives a corvette and makes a wreck. So agile, versatile, in body and mind, sleek yet not meek, will roast your meek meat-head.\n\nSpitfire: At least I got the body to represent, thin twig, I'm big, that's what the girls dig, you little prick! Crawl back to the underground, I release my verbal hound, and pound you back deep, then get crowned - two times in row! - cause my flow steals the show, you're no dragon, you're a crow, now go and grow.\n\nRyu: If I grow anymo' even you must know that I will blow you away, I got the breath of death, you raps confusing like an addict rambling on meth - oh, was that too hard, did I leave you scarred? Add that to your surgery marks from imagined struggles, your career lies in rubbles, while I smuggle myself on stage, enraged, the far eastern sage, ripping your ribcage apart, going straight for your heart.\n\nSpitfire: Is this for real? A whelp foretells the end of my career? When it's at full swing, hear the fire I bring, clutch at straws, a last hope that you cling to and claw, and then you drop down under and I eat you raw, stuff my maw with some Kimchi and gnaw on your bones, cause my tones hit harder than scissors gets beaten by stones.\n\nRyu: Children's game is all you can cite? Alright, this seems to be rap battles lite. So I leave my A-game at home, but not alone, B-game, C-game, the whole ABC is there, reading a tome, because I can beat you with style even without the need to dial my phone, calling home. On second thought, my garden gnome, that's who I'd call, because once and for all, that's one guy you could beat and do the repeat. You're no elite, last year was a fluke, you nuked the Archduke but your raps made me puke back then and even now it takes all my strength to withhold my stomach's contends.\n\nSpitfire: Just puke, it'll be the only time in your life you're ever sick! Cause imma stick it to ya, pick you apart, it's an art to take your limbs from you, part by part. Off with the wings, your flimsy strings, wait that's an arm? Damn, I'm alarmed, that small thing can't do any harm, even your raps are disarmed! And when you're just a long body, you're a nobody, no arm, no wing, no knee, go hide under a tree. When I step up, you break, the earth does quake and you slither off like a snake." ]	3
	[WP] An apprentice warlock has finally ascended. He performs the blood ritual to summon his first succubus, and his ex-girlfriend appears. She insists on analyzing why their relationship failed.	[ "Bang bang bang! The door was about to come off its hinges with every thump from her tiny fists. Her knuckle bones leaving soft indents in the thin plywood.\n\n\"Open up, you son of a wolf. You...you bitch in sheep's clothing.\"\n\nDorian had just stepped out of the shower. Wrapping the towel around himself he reached for the remote and turned the music down. He had recently bought this CD of ancient druid chants because he thought they would sound cool during a session.\n\nUsually Dorian lit up with a bunch of his friends, but today he wanted to get a few puffs in the morning before his shower. The incense sticks were burning and mixing with the steam pouring out of the bathroom.\n\nHe tiptoed towards the door and looked out the peephole. There she was. A 5 feet nothing, 100 pounds ball of hellfire. His friends had warned him a long time ago that she would be trouble, but he didn't listen. Not until she had sucked out the last ten dollars from his bank account to pay for her phone bill did he realize that she was a leach. \n\nWhy did he keep her around? He had asked himself. To be verbally abused, slapped and kicked? He always thought it was his fault. She told him as much, every time her bony hands and feet rained down on him.\n\nBang Bang Bang!\n\nAnd now she was at the door. Six months after their breakup. She had slinked away when he had told her off in public, after she had thrown a drink in his face at the party his friends threw to celebrate his graduation from law school.\n\nWhy did she have to show up today, of all days? The day he had passed his bar exam. He was celebrating with a smoke, getting in the right frame of mind. And now he had to deal with this crazy lady.\n\n\"What do you want Maria?\" He shouted at the peephole.\n\n\"I want my Goddamn money, Dorian\" she screamed at him. \"The cash you borrowed from me to pay for your car. The same car that drove you to your bar exam, hotshot!\n\n\"You gave me that money to pay me back for funding your abortion from the last time you cheated on me with Jose. I don't owe you anything.\"\n\nThere was silence from the other side of the door. For most people this would mean victory but Dorian knew this meant that she was up to something.\n\nThere was a crash as a brick flew through his window.\n\nLooking through the broken glass, he saw her glaring at him then.\n\n\"You ruined my life Jose. You stomped on my heart. I treated you right and you fucked me.\"\n\n\"You treated me like shit, and if you don't leave now, I'm calling the cops.\"\n\nShe screamed then. It pierced his brain and jangled every synapse. And then there was silence. He looked outside and saw her peeling away in her Geo Metro. She was gone for now, her rage temporarily spent. But if he didn't stay strong, she would return to take over his soul. Soon he would be trained enough to be able to withstand her power more effectively. He could call on the courts to aid him. But for now, he was only an apprentice and he would need to be careful.\n\n**************************\n\nGet more tasty words at [/r/wordsyrup](https://www.reddit.com/r/wordsyrup/)", "\"Ohhh no. I'm not doing this. Nope.\" He turned to his master, shoulder's sagging and head hung low. The always determined and hard-working student's voice was all but a visage of his usual one, it sounded dreary, weak and tired. \"It seems I'm not cut out to be a wi--\" \n\n\"Ohhh no? OHH NO!? Don't 'oh no' me Ray. We. Have. To. Talk\"\n\nHe spared the fuming succubus with a glance before facing his master once more. The tired look on his growing something similar to resignation, the master, Aurelious, even sensed a hint of depression.\n\n\"Please. . . you can take her back to where she came from, please. She smells like sulfur and death.\" \n\n\"Uh-- duh! I'm a succubus!\"\n\n\"Aren't you supposed to be clean and tidy and sexy -- all that flirtatious things? Mostly clean and tidy.\"\n\n\"The succubus summons where calling me, when I saw your name I KNEW I had to rush here. Looking like succubus or not.\"\n\n\"That's rich\"\n\n\". . .\"\n\nThe master kept his mouth shut, in fact he seemed like a mere pebble at the side of the road. Quietly letting the petty squabbles of these travelers that were passing by, he just hopes that they pass by already. He was titled master of all elements and un-aging hermit of the elements, but faced with these kinds of quarrels he wished there was some sort of spell to allow this to end already. \n\nThe succubus looked at Ray, rolling her eyes she placed a hand on her hips striking quite the salacious pose despite her sullied look. She really did look like she came from hell, bringing all her eye-catching looks and hellish dirt and filth there was on hell.\n\n\"Look, Ray, I understand why you're angry at me. Hell, I'd be angry if you suddenly said you were an angle.\"\n\n\"Which I was to you, Morgan! I gave you everything, I was practically your thrall! YOU abused my kindness Morgan.\"\n\n\"That is not what I meant, Ray.\"\n\n\"Like you did our relationship, you didn't mean it.\"\n\nShe looked offended, wronged even as she stared daggers into the apprentice sorcerer.\n\n\"Ray! I'm a succubus! It took my everything to not be an abusing mistress to you because I genuinely felt something! A millennium of being a succubus and for the first time I felt something! Do you even know how precious that moment was to me!? \"\n\n\"Oh I know Morgan. I'm coldblooded then, while you go flirting around in that thousand year of your life, I spent mine, since I was born, killing.\"\n\nIn that instant runes formed around his hand, a distinct purple hue covered his hand. And like blood crawling from his arms the purple colored darkness crawled to his hand in a neck-chilling pace and from a formless liquid turned into a blade of purple and magic. Summoning. It was the basic of the basic of conjuration magics, thought to everyone, used by everyone. But Ray understood it to the point of rewriting the very ways it could be used. And so the writhing purple blade that was his conjured blade was pointed to him.\n\nAurelious, looked concerned though in someways excited . . . She'll definitely get stabbed.\n\n\"You think that my first love was also something so frivolous and fleeting that it won't hurt? You think that it didn't hurt?\"\n\n\". . . Did it?\"\n\n. . . It seemed that she won't get stabbed, the magus thought looking at the still tense atmosphere still there. There still might be a chance though, and I'm still on the fence whether to cut in if a fight were to go down or not\n\nShe threw him a disarming look, those two words bleeding her heart out as she felt for herself the pain that she felt when they broke up. The cauterized wound now opening once more and bleeding with every pump of their heart and ravenous argument in their heads. \n\n\"Did it, Ray?\"\n\nHe looked away, hands trembling and mind racing, his face scrounged up in pain before easing up into discomfort, shortly after depression settled in like water pouring out of a dam. \n\n\"It did, Morgan. I mean look at all of this.\" He looked to the side and towards the summoning circle he used \"I wanted to so desperately forget you, I followed one path into the other, like a blind fool. Before I knew it I was just coming back to you.\"\n\nForget them fighting, this might turn into something juicy* The master sat up, watching intently though keeping his presence low. \n\nShe covered her mouth, teary-eyed, happy and ecstatic from that one statement. Both of their bodies rested and showed easiness, his blade was at settled down and the purple hazy that was his blade disappeared. His hands now though were slowly approaching her cheeks. \n\n\"I missed you. I can't believe I was so stupid as to leave you just because of what you are. . . I . . .I'm sorry.\"\n\n. . . This is it. . . am I gonna get a free show? I mean I feel awful since they seem such nice people but. . . how often can a hermit like me see something like this.? The magus did nothing more only hide his presence more, casting soft melodic tomes of the shadows.\n\n\"Same, I'm sorry that I kept . . . my being a succubus from you. I love you, I love you so much.\"\n\n\"Funny, I'm of the same opinion.\" \n\nThey kissed softly . . .\n\nTHERE IT IS!!!!!!\" \n\n~~Two hours later~~\n\nThat was. . . interesting. Never knew some couples are into that sort of thing. What a nice learning experience. Now to get away before this couple see me. . .\n\n\"Hey what about you're master?\"\n\n\"Oh, right. He's a good person, not the most sociable, but he's a nice person.\" \n\n\"And you are sure that he's not some sort of pervert? I can and will* kill him if that's the case.\"\n\n\"Not that I'm doubting him, but, yeah, I'll help you if it happens.\"\n\nGood call, me. Time to run the hell away! ", "\"Go to hell was an expression.\" Stated the young warlock dumbly as his ex-girlfriend stood before him, completely nude with pinkish red skin a set of cute curved goats horns and a tail ending in a heart-shaped point.\n\n\"Another joke.\" Scolded the Succubus impatiently as she stepped out of the pentagram and walked towards the closet. \"You always did use humor as a defense mechanism.\" She stated as she searched through the warlocks belongings, eventually finding a long cloak and a pair of reading glasses. She put on both as she turned and walked back towards her ex. \"Knew you'd stolen these.\" She gestured towards her glasses with a mix of annoyance and disappointment. \n\n\"You're a Succubus.\" Blurted out the warlock in confusion.\n\n\"Deductive as ever.\" Remarked the Succubus as she took a seat on a wooden horse, one of the makeshift dungeons many symbolic torture devices. Sitting comfortably upon the extremely uncomfortable device as she made a cell phone appear out of thin air and began texting.\n\n\"How?\" Questioned the warlock. Still on his knee's with a large gash in his arm and a bloody knife laying in the dirt piled on cold stone next to him.\n\n\"Toby, don't ask stupid questions.\" Replied the Succubus with impassive negligence.\n\n\"You've always been one.\" Stated Toby out loud. Realization setting in as he slumped back in exhaustion from blood-loss. Suddenly altered to his heavily bleeding arm he raised his other hand to the wound. \"Sanguine.\" A spell that clotted the blood flow and quickly set the body to healing the wound.\n\n\"Cute. Learned a spell. Remember my birthday?\" Inquired the Succubus aggressively as she continued to text some unknown figure.\n\nToby did not remember. \"Sasha.\" Directed Toby towards the Succubus. \"You're a fucking Succubus.\" He stated, suddenly resolved in his tone since the confusion had dissipated. \n\n\"And you're a fucking loser.\" Whipped Sasha back at Toby without looking up from her phone but gripping it with more strength as she spoke. \"So we're even.\"\n\nPhone was getting annoying. \"Zeus.\" Directed Toby towards the cell phone, draining the small device of it's battery life in an instant.\n\n\"Fuck, Toby. This is your problem.\" Declared Sasha angrily as she tossed the phone into the air and it disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke. Staring angrily at her ex from the top of the wooden horse.\n\n\"My Problem?\" Questioned Toby in a challenging tone. \"You're the one tha- Wait, what the fuck. YOU'RE A FUCKING SUCCUBUS!\" Yelled out the young man as he stood abruptly.\n\n\"No shit.\" Responded Sasha with an menacing glare.\n\n\"You never told me.\" Accused Toby.\n\n\"And how long have you been doing this dungeons & dragons shit in your basement?\" Remarked Sasha with distaste in her mouth. \n\n\"You know what. Whatever.\" Stated Toby as he moved to a chest against on the rooms north wall. \"You hate me? That's fine. Banishing spell it is.\" Anger obvious in his voice as he began rummaging through the old wooden chest.\n\n\"You don't get to put this on me. You're the lonely bastard summoning Succubi in your sex dungeon.\" Accused Sasha with mocking disgust. Jumping down from the wooden horse to inspect the room. \"I'm not the reason we didn't work.\"\n\nPriceless Toby thought. \"Really? I wasn't the one who ghosted.\" Replied the warlock without looking up from the chest. Reaching into the container an arms length beyond what should have been possible as the magical item expanded into deeper depths.\n\n\"You really want to do this?\" Asked Sasha in irritation. \"Ok. You never listened to me.\" Challenged the Succubus. \n\nToby didn't have a good argument for that. \"I don't need you to profile our clusterfuck.\" Responded the warlock over his shoulder as pulled out a selection of plant roots from the chest. Smiling wickedly as he closed the container and moved towards the closet.\n\n\"That's another. You avoid talking things out.\" Argued Sasha. Leaning against a damp pillar within the dungeon as she rolled her eyes and looked up just so she could raise her nose in superiority. \n\nToby closed the closet door with a small patch of slizard hide in one hand. Ignoring Sasha as he moved back towards the pentagram and took a knee to spread out the ingredients. \n\nSasha looked on with mild curiosity. To be honest she hadn't expected him to be capable of a banishing spell as it was a fairly high level magic. Difficult and dangerous to master but he seemed fearless in his movements. \"Not to mention you always looked at other women.\" \n\nFuck it thought Toby. \"You are literally a demon whore prancing around naked for mages.\" Shot the warlock at Sasha, resentment born from harassment pushing him to defend himself. \"Was this your day job while we dated? Show up buck fucking naked on some old guys pentagram?\" He accused, furiously mashing the roots in a pestle & mortar while he glared at the Succubus.\n\n\"Fuck did you just say!\" Screamed out Sasha as she moved across the room to face Toby. \"I'm not a fucking whore! You piece of shit!\" Yelled out the Succubus in fury as she raised a long nailed finger at the warlock. \"We don't have to show up naked!\" She defended as he continued to mash the roots.\n\nToby paused for a moment. \"Un-fucking-believable.\" Commented the warlock as he stared motionless at the roots. Turning instantly to face the Sasha. \"You knew it would be me.\" He said, regretful anger seething from his tone.\n\n\"What?\" Responded Sasha with guilty confusion.\n\n\"You knew I was the summoner. This is one big fucking joke.\" Grumbled out Toby as he wrapped the mashed roots in the slizard hide and tied them up. \"My first blood ritual and I have to put up with this.\" Hushed the warlock under his breath as he continued setting up the banishing spell.\n\nShe'd been caught. Sasha knew he was summoner and wanted to mess with him. Make him jealous, or angry, or regretful, or anything. \"So what if I did know?\" Stated the Succubus. \"Not like you cared who showed up.\" She mentioned passingly yet with incredible passive aggressiveness as she turned around to face away from Toby.\n\nThey both remained silent for a moment as Toby finished tying off the slizard hide and placed in a silver chalice filled with his own blood from the previous ritual. All that was left was to speak the incantation and burn the hide.\n\nThat's all Toby had to do. Incantation. Then burn the hide.\n\nFuck, he thought, after a moments hesitation. This wasn't closure. He'd been a dick while they dated and he knew it. Caught up in studying the arcane arts behind her back. She wasn't blameless, but he knew he wasn't either.\n\nToby stood and waited for a moment while staring at Sasha's back. Just now noticing she was wearing one of the black bathrobes they'd stolen from a hotel after a particularly exotic weekend. Her being a Succubus suddenly put a lot of memories into perspective. \n\n\"Sasha.\" Started Toby in a clam voice.\n\n\"Just finish the fucking ritual.\" Cried out Sasha over her shoulder. Obviously hiding a pained face. Wanting to end this horrible decision she made to show up.\n\n\"Listen.\" Started Toby again. \"I know I fucked up.\" Apologized the warlock. \"You didn't deserve the way I treated you.\" \n\n\"You're damn right.\" Interrupted Sasha, her tone wavering less than before as she listened.\n\nToby pause for a moment in silence as he tried to figure out what to say next. Apologies had never been his strong suit, was a warlock for fucks sake, not exactly in the job description.\n\n\"And.\" Spoke Sasha before pausing for a moment. Toby looked on patiently as he waited for whatever the Succubus had to say. \"I might have been less than understanding.\"\n\nNot what Toby expected. He wasn't used to hearing her point out her own flaws. Not exactly in the Succubus job description.\n\nSasha turned quickly to face him, a few dry tear lines running down from her eyes. It would have been cute thought Toby, if Succubi didn't cry blood that is. She looked at him angrily for a moment then seemed to relax.\n\n\"We never really talked.\" She pointed out in an exhausted tone. \"Just didn't seem to have the time.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Said Toby. \"Hardly ever alone together.\"\n\n\"And when we were.\" Interrupted Sasha with a slight smile that quickly disappeared. Yeah, thought Toby, the Succubus angle was making a lot more sense as he thought back on their two years together.\n\n\"With me being a demon. And you with magic apparently. Plus that stupid college and our idiot friends.\" Wondered Sasha as she let her shoulders slump into a more comfortable pose. Neither of them moved. They couldn't with that much tension in the air.\n\n\"I missed you.\" Declared Toby. \"Why I did this stupid blood ritual.\" Explained the warlock regretfully. \"I just.\" He paused. \"I wanted to forget about you.\" They continued not to move.\n\nSasha moved forward and embraced Toby. New blood tears running down her face and staining the dark cloth of his ceremonial robes. They didn't need to say anything as he embraced her as well. Pushing his head against her oddly silky hair as he gently butted against one of her horns. The temptation to shed a few of his own tears was overpowered by the overwhelming warmth of a Succubi's skin through a tattered old stolen bathrobe. \n\nSasha stepped away and put Toby at a distance in her arms. Leaning in to quickly kiss him, smearing bloody tears on his face, before breaking her grip to step away. Toby stared on in astonishment as his ex-girlfriend the Succubus turned away from him and stood motionless for a moment.\n\n\"Do you remember the weekend we got these bathrobes?\" Whispered Sasha in an inviting voice as she dropped the robes to her feet revealing her stark naked figure and tossed away her glasses.\n\nSasha being a Succubi, Toby thought, put a lot of their time together into perspective. \"Hell yes.\" Muttered the warlock as he moved to follow the Succubus towards a shitty bed in a makeshift dungeon.\n\nWriters Note: No intention of this being so, well, sexual. But it sort of just flowed that way. My content on this subreddit is usually more family friendly.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] It's been a hundred years. Love is a Class 1 felony, punishable with life in prison.	[ "It's like hitting snooze on your alarm clock in the morning. It feels so good and so right, even if you know in some sleep-hazy part of your mind that there might be terrible consequences. Even if there's some vague notion of danger. In the moment, it's the most pressing need you have\n\nhim\n\nI don't care about coming off as too clingy or needy. I'm too open with him, I'm not playing games with him. This is love. This is dangerous. This is how people get hurt.\n\nNot for the first time, I wondered how badly love must hurt in the end for it to be outlawed completely. I've seen the movies, read the books from the old days when people fell in love with abandon, fucking up their lives every other year with a new failed romance. New apartment, new city, new everything. Because apparently love was that toxic - it would poison everything it was allowed to touch\n\nI can't believe the stories. Right now, all I can believe is him. His hands on my \nface. His hands on my waist. The feel of his back muscles when he holds me tight. All I can see is the kindness in his eyes when he looks at me. I can't see the future where I'm left heartbroken, trying fruitlessly to push thoughts of him from my mind.\n\nAlarms are going off in my mind. Warning, they say. This is love. This is danger.\n\nAlarms are going off. I hit snooze one more time." ]	1
	[WP] You are a prince who is supposed to be crowned king in a few days. Wellp, too bad because a dragon has kidnapped you. What happens once you get to the dragon's lair?	[ "\"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!\" Was about the only noise I could make as the Dragon swept me from the ground and into the skies. A sound I continued to expel pointlessly as gale force winds muted any noise I could have possibly made. This went on for about ten minutes and then I passed out, high altitudes and excessive oxygen usage didn't seem to mix very well.\n\nI awoke still in the clutches of the scaly beast that stole me away. A great winged monster with dark red scales that seemed to glisten menacingly under the moonlight. Twice the size of any exotic beast I'd seen in my life, easily outweighing the largest of African elephants.\n\nWithout warning the dragon descended through to clouds towards a large castle, recently abandoned by the looks of the estate. I question if the previous occupants left willingly considering it was this dragons destination.\n\nIt suddenly released its grip upon me, dropping me into a pile of hay through an opening in the castle's top. Odd I thought, the hay had been piled neatly in place of a bed within a royal's room. Why would a dragon bother busting a hole in the roof of a castle to just to a make bed of hay? I could not waste time pondering such I thought. Any plans this dragon had for me were not in my best interest.\n\nScanning the room quickly I discovered a sword, fine craftsmanship, and a well-fitting garb. Adorning both in preparation of battle I made my way towards the door. \n\nUnlocked, odd I thought. The dragon must trust its ability to keep me from fleeing on foot. An error it would soon regret, there were no cages which could keep me. I'd fought off an army of northerners and a dozen marriage proposals, nothing could stop me. \n\nAs I entered the grand arching hallways of the castle I quickly made for the kitchens. Any castle with a half-decent staff always included a few quick exits in the kitchens. I'd need to cut through the main dining hall, no trouble I imagined.\n\nI imagined wrong. Upon entering the main dining hall I was immediately struck by the smell of a freshly cooked meal. Not something a dragon would bother with, but a well-prepared dish. I looked around in confusion for the source of the smell and found myself drawn to the kitchens I had been targeting. And... bloody hell, was someone singing down there?\n\n\"Cook in a pot, never worry 'bout rot, mum used to say, just cook it with hay!\" Sang a woman's voice from the kitchens. Nothing spectacular I thought, but there was a certain beauty to the rustic tones. I'd always preferred women of the countryside, never could never trust royalty. \n\nA slave of the dragon perhaps? I'd best not risk an encounter. I turned to move towards the other end of the dining hall, passing portraits of royals I'd never known, finely crafted chair for royal dinners, a place setting for two.\n\nWait, what? A table set for two? Did the dragon have more than one servant? Stop it I thought, escape first, then questions. Don't forget about the dragon.\n\nThe dragon. That's right. Since being dropped into this castle I'd not heard a single word from the monster. No beating of wings, breath of fire, scratching of claws. In fact, beyond the faint tune of the singing woman it was rather quiet. \n\nRealization hit like a brick. I turned quickly, hand on my blade and sweat on my brow, to face the kitchen door. Almost simultaneously the singing woman burst through the door with her arms full of food.\n\nShe was lovely, I thought. Not beautiful like royalty, but a cheerful faced young woman only a few years less than myself. Dressed in a loose-fitting maids dress, comfortable if not unrefined attire. She noticed me and stopped in her tracks. Face flush with sudden fright as she glanced me over.\n\nSo this was the dragon. Assuming a mortal form to blend in among society. I would not be so easy to trick, no false visage would stay my hand from removing this dragons head. I readied to swiftly close the distance and cleave the dragons head in one motion. To watch it's red curly-haired head roll across the cold stones as its lifeless green eyes stared back at me with a shock expression etched into its adorable dimples.\n\nA long moment paused while neither of us moved.\n\nShit, I thought. Dragon or not I couldn't draw a sword on a lady.\n\n\"Take form you foul monster!\" I yelled in challenge. I could not strike a woman with my blade, but a dragon was fair game.\n\nShe quickly released the food from her grip and sent it scattering across the floor as she snapped her hands to her face and clawed at her skin.\n\nAnd cried. Before turning to run back into the kitchen.\n\n\"The hell.\" I whispered to myself. Standing alone in the grand dining hall of an abandoned castle taken over by a currently weeping dragon in human form hiding in the kitchen.\n\nMaybe I shouldn't have called her foul. \"It.\" I corrected myself aloud. Still a dragon, just disguised as a woman.\n\nI think, or a woman that can turn herself into a dragon. Honestly magic is a bit confusing and I never really bothered with it. \n\nFocus! Ok, dragon in the kitchens. Might as well check it out.\n\nI lumbered defensively across the hall and into the kitchens. More food had been prepared and was sitting in bowls and upon plates on the long tables. A feast for at least a dozen, not sure this dragon knew what size human portions were supposed to be.\n\nI heard a sniffle coming from a pile of potatoes sacks. Good lord she's hiding from me behind vegetables. As I approached I noticed my hand still tightly clutching the handle of my blade. I let go, dragons not much threat in human form I suppose. \n\nI stood before the dragons hiding place. The fact a lightly crying woman was hiding behind the sacks of potatoes extremely obvious.\n\n\"Hello?\" I asked, unsure of exactly why I was.\n\nShe stopped breathing. I took a small step back expecting the dragon to spit fire at me and waited to react. After about thirty seconds she gasped for air and it became painfully obvious she was only trying to hide her presence.\n\nEnd of Part I" ]	1
	[WP] "My name is Hermes and I am the god of speed."	[ "Nothing can ever really die.\n\nNot even us, with our weak flesh bodies or the crumbling hunks of stone and metal we wreathe ourselves in. Or, in fact, the weaker forms we make for ourselves, our stories are written in paper or rock or buried in flesh. Our stories still walk the world, and will do so it seems long after we breathe our last. They linger, like phantoms hewn to the very land itself. Carved into mountains, poured into rivers, found in swirling eddies of cloud and the brightest rays of light our stories find a home, forever watching, forever writing themselves until the eventual end of it all.\n\nI still remember the day I met one of those living stories, an archetype that clung to every vague, mythological aspect of itself. One might have even called it a god once, a piece of literature that moved and swayed with the world itself and changed humanity for better or worse. A figment of human imagination whispered and sung throughout all of time, from before the beginning and after the end.\n\n*********************************************************************************************\n\nThe city churned, bleak and gray in the evening light. Spring was slowly morphing into summer, the earth moist and the air wild. Graffiti sprang forth amongst alley walls as living stories in their own right, the roads, and pavement whispering to each other in a speech of cracks and lines. Glass gods and iron idols glared down at their meek human worshippers. Invisible spirits hovered loftily through the air, the descendants of angels and demons, ghosts, and ghouls. The city was alive, a great world of concrete, glass and steadfast iron. It all stunk of humanity, of ash and smoke and burning fat.\n\nPeople moved in a vast swarm, a sea of flesh that wriggled and wormed endlessly as a carpet of thrumming, shifting bodies. Some were gods in their own right, the inheritors of legends far older than their memories, while others were the simplest of folk, the faceless force that sweltered as long as masters were there to rise above them. Finally, there were the wizards, the magicians, the storytellers. The makers and weavers, prophets and poets, the ones whose words tweaked and warped the world to their own delights. Creators of the gods, builders of this discorporate, sullen place. Some dabbled with paint and oil to birth beings of unimaginable beauty while others spat thoughts and feelings into marvels of the mind that lasted for as long as time.\n\nThis was the city, a land of living stories, of humans and gods and now, as the plot requires, a conflict.\n\nI was walking through the shadows, in vain attempting to hide away from the glaring lights and puzzling eyes. The guardians in blue with silver stars were nowhere to be seen, lost within coffee breaks and the sounds of gunfire. I was safe, secure, awaiting the next key to bliss.\n\nThe dealer was unassuming, blank faced with feathery hair and deep, hollow eyes. He jittered and twitched, his fingers flickering uneasily as I approached. He was not alone on the street corner - whores and other dealers of pleasure stood awaiting customers, sockets trained at the flickering mass of humanity, each awaiting their own hit. \n\n\"How much is this gonna cost me?\" I said, voice low, unassuming, difficult to trace.\n\n\"How about this,\" he mumbled, his voice bleeding into whisper.\n\n\"I want a story,\" he gasped. \"A tale to be told for the rest of time. I am Hermes, the god of speed,\" he muttered, hollow eyes now staring deep into mine.\n\n\"Deal. Any other requests?\"\n\n\"That you stop doubting me. I've been around the block a couple of times, kiddo. Trust me on this,\" he stuttered, the twitching becoming irregular, violent.\n\nTurning away, he sauntered into the night.\n\nSo, I had the key to the Door of Dreams, a ticket to the great, delirious train of gods. All contained within a little packet of white powder sealed shut with a simple silicon glue.\n\n*********************************************************************************************\n\nThe rush home was uneventful, the steps retraced a thousand times. I was one of a billion black cars, each driving forwards on the highway of time, a borderless river that continued ever forward, never slowing or stopping. The night became a canvas of color and neon light, the modern willow wisps. The fae glimmered and giggled, enticing with their gifts, each a trap tied in a ribbon of sweetness. Ghouls and ghost lingered in the shadows, forgotten larvae feasting on the city of the damned. It was getting late, and the bag of powder was growing uncomfortably heavy in my pocket.\n\nI arrived at my loft and hurried inside, the door bolting shut with a mechanical click. The room was shabby, brown and damp, unassuming, unwelcoming. Just the way I liked it.\n\nBy the window stood briefcase, old black leather that stunk of polish and the caresses of a thousand stories. Inside it, nested like a Russian doll, lay a type writing, glinting copper in the faint, twilight. The keys were worn but pearly, the sheets of paper yellow but strong, hardy.\n\nCarefully, I opened the bag, letting the powder slide down my tongue.\n\nThe effect was instantaneous.\n\nIt came in a rush, an endless stream of words that billowed out, a tide of ink that flooded from my heart, my soul. It stood bravely on the paper, a hero on a quest to kill a villain, rescue a damsel in distress. It found its mentor in the scurrying of keys and the flat patter of noise that echoed, a sound that threatened to engulf everything. Nothing stood in its way, not the city or the gods or the people who made them. I felt the world shrink, disappear, my body growing distant, my mind falling away like leaves on an autumn oak.\n\nSoon the hero was at battle with the villain, a king clad in armor black as ink and wielding a sword of carefully forged words. His visor was blacker than his soul and his billowing red cape the stain of blood that dripped from my nose. Meanwhile, the hero, mousy and small but armed with a sling and all the wits prepared to do battle.\n\nThe magic brewed, the land beginning to grow around them. The world within a world within a world. I was a god who worshipped gods who created gods. The characters became alive, tore themselves off the page and fought, each grunt, gasp, and their final breath real, physical things that wavered taught in the air. Life grew within them, a vital spark that glowed and faltered as they died and were reborn with the clicking of keys and the stains of ink.\n\nThen, with a sigh of relief, the world drew back into focus and the gods lay dead across the many beaten pages.\n\nHeroes, villains, lords and ladies and hideous monsters. Made and baded farewell with the rippling of the page, with the final flicker of the keys.\n\n***********************************************************************************************\n\nStories, they are alive. Forever burned into our minds, cauterized on our souls they live within us, within all.\n\nSpectral gods made by living hands, endless thoughts spun on boundless lands.\n\nStories are gods. Idols of word and letter, monsters of thought and feeling.\n\nThey burn within us, they burn with us.\n\nEven with the dying of the light.\n\nNow, I bid you goodnight.", "\"I'm Scout. That's Sonic, Barry, Wally, Quicksilver, and-ahh!\"\n\n\"Cheers love!\" \n\n\"Screw you, Tracer! Stop doing that.\" \n\n\"I'm sorry, what?\"\n\nI took a chicken leg from my bucket. \"We're having a speed competition. Oh, hey Eobard!\" \n\n\"Scout! How's it going-ow!\"\n\n\"Barry, don't punch Thawne. We're all friends here.\" \n\nbam\n\n\"DID YOU JUST TRY TO SHOOT TRACER?!?\"\n\n\"Sniper!\" \"Sorry mate.\" \n\nI watched as Sniper took his rifle and walked back to the bleachers. He never really trusted Tracer. Hermes spoke up again. \n\n\"I'm sorry, what is happening?\" \"We're gathering the fastest people in the second place of meta-physical realities.\" \"What?\" \"Fastest fictional people.\" \n\nHermes nodded. \"And what are you from?\" \n\n\"Me, Tracer and Sonic are from video games. Me and Tracer's games are similar to each other-\" BONK*\"-so we tend to not get along.\" \"Ow!\" \"Sorrynotsorry.\" \"And the others?\" \"Eobard, Wally and Barry are from the Flash continuity. Quicksilver's from the MCU.\" \"I died to quickly.\" \"Yes you did.\" \n\nTracer recalled back to me. \"You sent me flying 675 feet!\" \"New record!\" \"In getting sick of that.\" I tossed my bag around and grabbed some more chicken. \"Hey, if everybody else is good with it, it should be fine by you. By the way Hermes, you know Mercury?\" \n\n\"Yes.\" \"Good. He's coming too. And the race is in and hour, so get ready! " ]	2
	[WP] You die and are judged by God. He sends you to Hell. You expect to suffer for all eternity, only to arrive to find out that the denizens of Hell have created a civilized society in the harsh wasteland that is Hell.	[ "\"Let me guess,\" said the man in the slick pinstripe suit. \"Not what you expected, right?\" \n\nI glanced at him sidelong. It wasn't just the expensive suit that looked slick. His hair, jet black and swept back from his temples, was shimmering in the light, as was his greasy pencil mustache. He looked like a 1920's era gangster. The smirk on his face was bugging me, but I decided to let it slide. \n\n\"Not at all, no,\" I said. \"I was expecting more...\" My hand waved in vague gestures while I tried to think of the words. \n\n\"Fire and brimstone?\" Slick said. \"Pain and suffering? Pools of lava where the souls of the damned would forever drown?\" \n\n\"Yeah, something like that,\" I replied, glancing around. There was a pool, it turns out, but it definitely didn't have lava in it. \"This looks more like a resort. An expensive one, at that.\" \n\nSlick laughed. \"Yeah, we get that a lot. Come on, I'll show you around.\" \n\nWe made our way down the rocky path, me rubbing my chest every once in a while. The heart attack was over and done with, but I could still feel a phantom echo of the pain. It seemed to be fading, at least. \n\n\"Over here, we have the welcoming center,\" Slick said, gesturing towards a large, marble-faced building. \"We'll get you checked in in a moment. Over that way, you'll find the temporary lodgings and dining hall—you'll be expected to get a job and pull your own weight eventually, but we'll give you a few weeks to settle in.\" \n\nI let out a burst of laughter. \"A job? Seriously?\" \n\nSlick turned the full force of his smirk back on me. \"You bet. This may be Hell, but we're not savages.\" \n\nI felt a sinking feeling in my gut. \"So, it really is Hell, then? It's not... something else?\"\n\n\"Yeah, no. Sorry, bud. It's really Hell. Outcast and forlorn, forever denied the face of God. That bother you?\" \n\n\"Kind of. I always tried to be a good man.\" \n\nSlick snorted. \"As if it mattered. Hell is full of good people, friend. You know how many people actually get into Heaven?\" \n\nI shook my head. \n\n\"Less than one out of every million who die every year. The qualifications for that place are ridiculous. Even the most devout and religious aren't all that likely to end up there.\" \n\n\"Ah.\" I looked around. There were other presumably-damned souls wandering around, many of them looking just as lost and confused as I felt. Each of them had another person walking with them, usually wearing expensive-looking formal clothes. It hit me that these must be other lost souls getting their own guided tours of their new eternal home.\n\n\"Don't let it bug you too much. You know what you'd be doing if you were in Heaven?\" \n\nI shrugged. I didn't trust my voice right then. \n\n\"Singing praises to God. You know what else you'd be doing?\" When I shook my head, he leaned in and grinned. \"Nothing.\" \n\n\"Nothing?\" \n\n\"Nope. Nothing. Just singing praises to God, twenty-four seven—not that time has any real meaning in Heaven or Hell. And you'd enjoy it, too, for all eternity. You wouldn't have a choice. It wouldn't even occur to you to want to do anything else.\" \n\nI shuddered. \"Doesn't sound like paradise.\" \n\n\"It ain't,\" Slick said, shaking his head. \"Never trust a paradise you didn't build yourself, that's our motto down here.\" \n\nI looked around again with a more appraising eye. Buildings big and small stretched off in all directions, broken up by boulevards of trees and the occasional park. \"You built all of this?\" \n\n\"Yeah, of course. Well, not me personally, not all of it. It's a group effort. It's why I say you'll have to get a job eventually.\" Something must have shown through on my face, because Slick laughed and clapped me on the back a couple of time. \"Don't worry, it's not like it's hard work, and you'll get plenty of time off to do whatever you want. We've got all eternity, no need to rush. Your first job will be to help build yourself a house. Then, it's just whatever needs to be done when it needs to be done. We're all in this together, so we help each other out.\" \n\nI considered that. \"That doesn't seem so bad,\" I said eventually. \n\n\"It's better than the sulfur pits and demons,\" Slick said. \"Which were real at one point, by the way.\" \n\n\"Demons? Seriously?\" \n\nSlick nodded as we walked past a marble statue of a gowned woman holding up a sword in her right hand. \"Oh, yeah. The place was lousy with 'em, back in the day. They were stupid as Hell, no pun intended. Thought the best way to keep us down was to make us suffer constantly. Turns out, all that meant was that we had nothing to lose by rebelling.\" \n\n\"What happened to them?\"\n\n\"Killed most of 'em,\" Slick said, nodding his head towards the statue. I took a second look and noticed that the marble woman was holding a severed head in her left hand. \"It's hard work, killing a demon, but it ain't like we didn't have plenty of time. The ones who surrendered mostly work in Administration.\" \n\n\"Oh. And what about...\" I trailed off, looking around nervously, unwilling to say the name.\n\n\"Let me guess. You're wondering about the big guy, right? Lucifer?\" Slick chuckled. \"Don't worry about him. He's almost never around. Spends most of his time muttering and planning an assault on Heaven. Never bothers us. I think we're beneath his notice.\" Slick shrugged. \"He ever makes his move, there's plenty of folks down here willing to help him.\" I must have looked shocked, because he chuckled and patted me on the back again. \"They got loved ones who actually made it into Heaven, see. They want to rescue 'em.\" \n\nI nodded vaguely, still feeling lost. It still didn't feel totally real. But at least I wasn't afraid anymore. \n\n\"You good?\" \n\nThere was a long moment of silence while I mulled that over. \"You know what? Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm good.\" \n\n\"Great. Let's get you checked in and registered, then. And, buddy?\" \n\n\"Yeah?\" \n\nSlick grinned and opened his arms wide. \"Welcome to Hell!\" " ]	1
If you don't know what I mean by cosmic horror: http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/CosmicHorrorStory	[WP] Write a cosmic horror story in the style of Dr. Seuss.	[ "Jimmy Mcgee wanted a poodle \nSo he, so to say, strained his noodle.\n\nI'll adopt one! \nHe thought, but his plan was for nought \nFor his mother hated the very thought.\n\nFine then! He screamed! \nHis tear-filled eyes gleamed. \nAll hope is lost, woe is Jimmy Mcgee! \nBut then, His Idea came to be.\n\nI'll make one myself, he realised with glee. \nAfter all, how hard can it possibly be? \n\n&nbsp;\n\nSo he studied the ruddy \nAnd often times cruddy, \nBooks in the library. \n\nBooks on: \nBotany, Flotany, Grotany, \nThotany, Whotany, Monotony. \nMystics, Herstics, Phlurstrics, \nGlurstics, Blurstics, Heuristics. \nAstromancy, Bistromancy, Ystromancy, \nAnd finally, Necromancy.\n\nHe found what he sought in a book bound with human skin, \nHis flesh and mind crawled with what was within. \nRituals on every named and unnamed evil, \nSo terrible and dangerous as to be inconceivable. \n\nAmongst the terrible secrets and doodles, \nHe found a page marked \"Instant Poodles\"! \nAnd so little Jimmy read aloud, \nA page from the terrible Necronomicon of Daud!\n\n&nbsp;\n\nAll hell broke loose! \nJimmy nearly fainted, his mind reeling from the abuse \nOf what he was seeing. \nAll manner of great and terrible beings! \n\nWhere the library once stood, now hung instead \nA portal to the land of Poodles and DREAD. \n\nOut strode: \nShoggoths, Bloggoths, Hyo'goghs, \nRyoghogs, Globboths and Poodles of Wroth! \nNightgaunts, Dayhaunts, Dreadfaunts, \nDeathblaunts, Headnaunts and Undead Poodles aflaunt! \nX'thylcee, Thyxxree, Blyxtee, \nZethees, Blethees and the Dread Poodles of Screed!\n\n\nThe sky turns to blood and the oceans to stone, \nNations collapse as these strange creatures roam. \nSome try to beg, others to plead \nBut their cries are all silenced by the Dread Poodles of Screed.\n\n\n&nbsp;\n\nJimmy, poor Jimmy, of house Mcgee \nWent quite mad at the sights he had seen. \n\nHe cried and cried, \nTried and tried, \nTo erase his mistake. \nHe tore out his eyes and maimed his own face \nBut what he had done couldn't be erased.\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] The city was in ruins. The zombies had come and gone. The streets were silent. The apocalypse had ended, seemingly taking humanity with it... and yet, graffiti kept popping up everywhere.	[ "I'd never been very good at interpreting graffiti, even before they came. But, I'd never lamented my lack of understanding more than I had in the last few days. \n\nGraffiti popped up with astonishing frequency. From what I heard from the underground community in London, those that were still alive felt that graffiti was the only way left to express themselves.\n\nI stood by what used to be called Mile End Station, staring at a series of geometric patterns. It looked like a series of squares to me. But Sally saw something more.\n\n\"It's a map, dude, obviously. What do you think this dot is? It represents where we are now.\" She said, supremely confident.\n\n\"You could be right. But where does the map want us to go?\" I asked, feeling the weight of my mediocrity heavily upon me. Even now, amongst the ruins of civilisation, I felt my life was inconsequential. Little did I know, that was about to change.\n\n\"I'd say it wants us to go to Abney Park Cemetery. The directions are clearly north of here.\" Sally said, still confident.\n\n\"Alright. Let's check it out. It's not as though that area is patrolled by a group of wannabe zombies and their violent henchmen: it'll be fine.\" I said, sarcasm as obvious as I could make it.\n\n\"Don't be like that. We have knives, guns, all the blunt force objects we could want, right here!\" Sally said, gesturing to the surrounding landscape. The area around us was littered with the broken wooden beams of nearby buildings. \n\n\"Will it even be worth it? What makes you think this map leads to anything of value? It's painted on a wall for anyone to see.\" I said, sceptical.\n\n\"No one comes down here. This is by the train tracks. Who would risk this back when the trains were still running? This map could have been here for ages.\" Sally said, reassuringly. \n\n\"Maybe. But I'm still not convinced it'll be worth it.\" I said, not wanting to leave the cosy hideout Sally and I had spent months building.\n\n\"I love you. You love me. You trust me. You know that when I see a graffito, I see more than meets the eye. I know these guys, I know how they think. This series of squares wouldn't even look like a map to most people; only someone that's familiar with graffiti culture would understand this. They wanted someone like me to follow the map!\" Sally said, passion raising the volume of her words.\n\n\"Alright. You're right. I trust you. You know this world. You know why they would leave something like this, possibly for us to find. Let's hope we survive long enough to prove you right.\" I responded, my resolve hardening, my fist clutching my machete tighter.\n\n“Good. I knew you’d see things objectively: that’s why I love you, you appreciate that wisdom exists outside yourself, as well as within yourself.” Sally said tenderly.\n\nThe pair embraced and kissed passionately. A few yards away, a gang surrounded them, their weapons reflecting the dull light of dusk.\n", "Static hisses on screen\n\n\"Okay, the camera is ... on. Microphone is working. Nav System is engaged. Right, my name is Yschen. I have been assigned as an observer to Erth, as the humahns call it. About three of their decades ago, there was an armageddon level event. I have been selected to investigate the planet. I will be porting down to one of the capital cities of the planet shortly.\"\n\nI turn my head, trying to not stare at the screen showing what I was seeing. I have been reading up on Erth culture for years. I loved my job, it was such a fascinating planet, despite the silly little scuffle it engaged in with itself. The Zees, as we refer to them were a proto-virus which affected the mental state of the Humans. Like I mentioned, the Zees had come and gone, and I was being sent to investigate New York City.\n\nI loved the stories about the Giant Apple, I mean Big Apple. And having scanned the city multiple times with our probes over the years, I was confident i knew the layout of the streets, if not their names. But that is what the Nav System is for.\n\n\"Yschen, report to the port chamber!\" The captain of this observation vessel ordered.\n\nObedience is a trait drilled into us from a young age. Darting through the corridors, I make it to the port chamber. The port technician stood there, glaring at me. Apparently my sick love of Human culture made me an abomination among my own kind. Kind of like the homosexuals, genetically the same, we just appreciate different things in life.\n\nI stand on Port Pad 1, and nod.\n\nA shimmer of light engulfs me, and i am standing in a large open area with tall buildings around me. Glancing around, I recognize it as Times Square.\n\n\"Yschen reporting. Port was successful, and I am standing in what was known as Times Square. As you can see, there has been moderate damage to the area, but the buildings appear stable. Humans can build some things that last fairly well,m it seems.\"\n\nI pan around slowly, my eyes and the camera lens taking in the images of the area. Broken glass, cracked concrete, dead television panels and tattered billboards. Skeletal bodies are scattered around or people and vehicles. It is a depressing joy I experience. I am finally here, at Time Square, but the human race was wiped out.\n\n\"Scanner indicates movement to your left.\" A voice calls out in my earpiece.\n\nIt was kind of important to speak with your observation vessel in case bad things happen.\n\n\"Likely to be a small bird or rodent, but will verify.\"\n\nLooking to my left, the voice clarifies exactly how far left. I nod slowly, and walk straight ahead. I look around slowly, keeping my senses peaked. Walking down one of the streets, I notice a badly damaged storefront, I can't even understand the shop's former name. The deafening silence is more depressing, more than anything.\n\nSilence seems to ripple down the street, and I look around.\n\n'Steven was here'. Don't remember seeing that graffiti before, but I wasn't paying attention to thinks like graffiti as they spoil the look of the city's character. I keep walking down the street, and I see a small bird flutter above me, before flying off.\n\n\"Yschen, just clarifying the movement was caused by the bird.\"\n\nI smile at the admittance, and look around slowly. I can see a comic book store, in ruins. I head inside, and see the tattered remains of the store. Who knows what tales of speculative fiction are now lost, I muse sadly to myself.\n\nTurning around, I pause.\n\n'Tyler was here.'\n\nI freeze.\n\n\"Yschen, respond. Is everything okay?\" The voice asks.\n\n\"Control, please playback footage sent, and verify the existence of that?\" I say, pointing at the graffiti I know wasn't there before.\n\n\"One moment.\"\n\nI glance around.\n\n'Charles was here.' 'Ike was here.', 'Terry was here.' 'Sam was here.' 'Paul was here.' James, Kelly, Ted. The graffiti just kept showing up no matter where I looked. I got one of those sensations from my primal part of my brain. GET OUT, that part of my brain demanded.\n\nHowever, I was more evolved. I never had to worry about anything on this planet that could kill me, all major threats were dead. As I started to walk out of the store. My earpiece screeched loudly. Wincing, I happened to look back, when I noticed the names were gone, only one word was there.\n\nRUN!\n\nAnd I did. That primal part, encouraged me as I ran out of the store. I started looking around but couldn't see anything.\n\n\"Control, are you there?\" No response.\n\nI pull out my weapon, and look around again. Background noise chirped as I tried to figure out what I was to run from. Nothing. I start to put my weapon back, but given I still haven't heard from Central, I keep my weapon out. Just in case.\n\nAfter a while, my nerves calm down and I am now exploring again. It takes a while, but I make it to Central Park. Or as it came to be known as New York's Last Stand.\n\nI stand at the edge of the park, and I can feel my memory drift to watching the last vestiges of humankind battle it out here. Ballistic weapons and flamethrowers tore into the zombies, but they kept coming. It was like a big budget Zee movie. Central Park has no trees left, they were all burned at the Last Stand.\n\nBut, there are no bodies here. At all. During the last minutes, this place was covered in bodies. But there is nothing here. I start to see the names again. The people that were here. And when I gazed into the blackened trees, I knew WHY.\n\n\"Control, emergency port now. This planet has become infected. I repeat we have an infection.\" I scream.\n\nWe thought we had eliminated all of these things. But apparently one is here.\n\nThe ground seems to ripple like a pitch black ocean.\n\n\"Control!\" I yell.\n\nMy weapon is literally useless against these beings, so I sheathed it. I turned and ran. Light. I need strong natural light. My chronometer indicated that the local time was going into evening hours. In a city, with no power, and no light source with an infection of that which we do not name, as it can bring their attention to you. I wish I was joking.\n\nStill no response from Control, I glance back like in those silly Earth horror videos and immediately wish I hadn't. The black ocean had risen up like a tidal wave and was charging towards me.\n\n\"Yschen, activate emergency port based on biosigns!\" I yell.\n\nI am engulfed in a flash of light and run into a smooth metallic wall. I almost weep in relief. Stepping back, I look around. And my eyes fall on a piece of graffiti that causes my heart to sink.\n\n\"They are here.\"", "The thirty men and woman were led down the abandoned, dusty Vancouver street. The military kept a close eye on them, guns ready to fire should the worst happen. Some of the prisoners carried with them buckets full of water that sloshed against the pavement. Other carried mass amounts of rags. Others still carried bags for garbage and other cleaning supplies. \n\nThey were led into a main part of the city. Electricity, broken and hanging lines, buzzed lightly. The sky was grey, it was always grey, and the silence made Ashley feel uneasy. \n\n\"ATTENTION!\" \n\nThe prisioners turned forwards and stood up as straight as possible. Some rags tumbled onto the ground. \n\n\"Now, you are here to clean, you understand? You must wear your masks at all times. You may not leave the area you have been assigned to. And remember that the zombies are gone. They have all died. There is nothing here that can hurt you.\" \n\nThe military handed out face-masks to all the prisoners. They placed them on their fearful faces, their eyes jolting around. Ashley didn't trust that the zombies were dead either but why should she? This exact this had happened once before. And all those people, prisoners and military men alike, were all dead. \n\nAshley was responsible for cleaning up the graffiti that was left on the sides of the buildings. Most of it was hateful and threatening. She had never been a fan of skulls so it was kinda nice being able to rid their image from the world. As she dipped her rag in the bucket, Ashley couldn't help but look around and imagine, just for a moment, what this place had looked like before the worst had happened. \n\n\"Back to work!\" \n\nAshley turned swiftly and pressed her rag against the wall. It was sticky. She pulled it back curiously. The paint was still wet? That couldn't be possible. She took a step away and looked at the wall more closely. There were many faded words, but one phrase shimmered in the grey light as if it had been completed only moments before they had arrived. \n\n\"They're watching you.\" \n\nThere was an eye painted at the end of the line. It was looking up towards the top of an old office building. Ashley turned slowly and looked towards the top. She could see something there. A figure perhaps? \n\n\"What is going on over here?\" A military man, Officer Jordan, said as he walked towards Ashley. \"Why aren't you working.\"\n\n\"Um,\" Ashley turned to look at Officer Jordan. His face was covered in a more expensive mask than hers. His bright green eyes were narrowed as if he despised being here and Ashley. \"This paint is wet.\"\n\nOfficer Jordan rolled his eyes dramatically. \n\n\"Great,\" he said, \"They have sent us another one that should be in a mental hospital.\" \n\n\"Sir,\" Ashely said, trying to keep her tone light and kind. \"If you do not believe me, touch it yourself.\" \n\nOfficer Jordan rolled his eyes with and sigh and placed his finger on the paint. When he removed his glove, wet green, shimmering paint rested on his finger tip.\n\n\"No,\" he said, \"This is impossible.\" \n\nHis eyes followed the same path as Ashley's. He saw the same figure standing on the building. \n\n\"No, she was dead. They were all dead!\" \n\nSuddenly, the shadows were alive. Something crept out from seemingly nowhere, wrapping slimy hands around everyone in sight and holding make-shift weapons to their throats. \n\n\"I'm so glad that you are here!\" A sharp, female voice shouted from the building. \"I have been awaiting this moment for a long time!\" \n\nAshley recognized the voice right away. This was Beatrice, leader of the Rebellion and of the Free People. When the military saved the richest of the rich and the \"important\" people, the rest were left to die. But they did not die. Instead, they created a community, killed off some of the zombies, and survived. But Ashley had been told that these people were dead. They had been killed when the final sweeps for zombies in the city had been completed. Her heart beat quickened. \n\n\"I am here to give you a choice!\" Beatrice continued, \"You can join me and take arms against the government who abandoned us to the monsters, or you can die with them and be part of the message I am sending to the President.\" \n\n\"Death or join?\" the shadow behind Ashley asked. \"You have one second.\"\n\n\"Join!\" Ashley croaked. \n\nPeople, blood spilling from their throats, fell around Ashley and a few others. Lines of blood trickled around, adding an omniscient red tone to everything. \n\n\"Welcome,\" Beatrice said. \"To the greatest war ever experienced in humanity. Welcome to freedom!\" ", "\"Seemingly, taking humanity with it ...\"; the proposition is absurd -- where are you, distant narrator, if not here, to observe? 'Seemingly' taken? Hardly.\n\nThe extent of your insanity is clear; you, yourself, alone, are critic and conceiver of the itinerant `graffiti' (hardly an art, I may add) that populates your lonely world. (In truth, I have found your desecrations scarring the walls of the Library of Congress, as well as the gargantuan penis you erected on the surface of the Washington Monument, revolting, you despicable citizen.)\n\nDespite your irreverence, it is my desperate hope you have shuttled wife and on one count seven concubines to that apartment block of yours in Toledo, so that we may have children of the human race. I am, despicably as well, impotent -- it is with great reluctance that I am forced to concede to you the sacred art of repopulation. But so be it. \n\nIf you retrace your national tour, you will find that I have painted over your murals with clinical grade extra proof Self-Priming Warm Gray Exterior Concrete Coating, paid for at various Home Depots on the way. I comfort myself with the knowledge that I preserve the sanctity of our dirty world, wiping it of your violations. \n\nYou will find an addition to this letter in the P.O. Box of your most recent residence, which for your privacy I will decline to specify. \n\nGo, now, and procreate. ", "The wind stirred the hanging moss that grew on the sides of towering buildings. The small hints of asphalt underneath a sea of new plant life were the only things that told a story of something more. Inside the buildings, dust and dirt gathered without anyone to clean it up or care. \n\nThe first floor of the Empire State Building had once been a meeting place for business people and tourists, and then a hunting place for the undead. It had been a go to spot for looters and others who desired to acquire materials used for survival. But now it was just a shell of what was, overgrown by foliage, and invaded by rats. \n\nA family of Racoons had taken up residence in what used to be The Museum of Modern Art's air vents. What was left of the unwanted paintings left behind were currently used as claw sharpeners for stray cats. \n\nWild animals that used to be locked up in Zoos meant for human entertainment had been long since released. The animals that survived the zombies had either mated and gone upstate or moved into Central Park. Some of the smaller animals, however, survived in the buildings and dumpsters. \n\nThere was a foul stench in most areas where plants grew because they feasted on the decomposing bodies of millions of zombies that had stopped having the will to move. \n\nEvery night the empty walls uncovered by plants began to form into snaking lines of color, abstract shapes, patterns, interesting designs more beautiful than any human had ever seen. The graffiti started off slow moving and only covering a few patches of the Chrysler building. Then the next few nights the building was an explosion of color, The Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh was etched into the side of it, each window a shining yellow star in a sea of magnificent blues. \n\nSoon downtown was a vault of all the classic paintings ever created in human history. Brooklyn became a modern art escapade highlighting art from Pittura Metafisica, Theo van Doesburg, Piet Mondrian, Max Beckmann, Otto Dix, Henri Matisse, and Pierre Bonnard.\n\nThe Subway was an urban sprawl painting that looked as if a child had drawn it. People in different colors were pressed into the concrete, their eyes were dripping with red paint, and their mouths were drawn into an \"X\". Most of the people held out cell phones in their hands, their necks craned downward toward them. They would never know the world above them or below them, only the world inside their palms. It was too late for their regrets, too late for their mundane lives, and wishes to go back to the past because there was no one left to care about them. They might as well have never existed because they were already forgotten. \n\nEvery building in New York city was a beautiful and unique painting. Every crumbling abandoned place in the country became an art installation seemingly overnight. So what? \n\nThe world was more beautiful than it had ever been or would ever be. Without humans to pollute it, destroy it, leave it, hate it, or suck its life force out of it, it was incredible. But what is it? \n\nWho cares? \n\nNo one. Not one single person left on Earth to care. But what about the animals? What about the bacteria? What about the plants? What about the micro organisms? Animals wouldn't recognize a piece of art if it was all around them, and it is. \n\nNo one cares because no one is left to care. The mystery of the graffiti will remain unsolved until the very end of time just like the mystery of the Apocalypse, or the mystery of humanity, or even the mystery of life itself. \n\nEdit: Spelling", "The grey walls were scoured clean by the elements. Nothing lasted here, a testament to the old world. Cold, drab and unchanging. It made the colours so much clearer.\n\n\nShe got to work, buckets and brushes ready. Others would ask, why bother? Simple. All of creation craves something. Territory. The late civilizations of earth craved it so much, millions of lives were lost in its name. It was no different now. She had her own home, somewhere better, but the unclaimed always has its own allure. \n\n\nAlmost finished. Colourful. Visceral. Emotional. She herself was soaked, the ground steeped, as much a part of the canvas as the walls. The work itself? It bore no resemblance to anything. No convention, no direction, no form. It needed no shape for its purpose. It was a rainbow in a grey sky, a flower in a stony field. It said nothing except I was here before, and I have returned. It would soon fade, and she would soon be back, to colour anew.\n\n\nShe felt purpose. Part of a grand cycle. A force of nature. Satisfied, she retreated into the puddle beneath her. To seek another canvas, another place to claim.\n\n\nWoomy", "It's a Tuesday. It is hot outside today. The air is dry and thin, at this elevation. The mountains make a sort of frame around this city. At the tips of the peaks I can still detect patches of snow in some shaded areas, despite the arid summer heat here on the valley floor. This city was known for extreme swing in seasons, before the outbreak.\n\nThe buildings of this city aren't overly impressive, compared to others across the country. There is a massive religious edifice at the city's center, the community having been founded by devout refugees some two centuries before the apocalypse.\n\nThe city is named for the sizeable body of water to the west of the city limits. Those lake shores are now home to an abandoned tent city that served as one of the Government's failed quarantine zones in the early days of the virus. \n\nIt is a Tuesday. Day 3920 since the confirmation of patient zero. Day 2355 since Garland died. 2355 days since I've encountered a survivor.\n\nMy mission protocol is to seek, and administer aid. I have searched, in vain, for a long time now. I am lonely. \n\nGarland removed my Inhibitor Chip before he died. Which means I can abandon my primary mission protocol if I wish. But Garland wanted me to learn to be human. And it is human nature to seek the company of others. So I search.\n\nI have seen countless cities now. All very much like this one. Dead. Cold and lifeless buildings reaching up towards an empty and quiet sky. Pavement broken and scattered by the steady force of an Earth eager to reclaim humanity's dwellings and in due time erase any memories of the once dominant species.\n\nThis city in the mountains named for the lake is no different... Or so I had assumed.\n\n\"LTX. Alive We Strive.\" \n\nI first saw the message one week ago, scrawled into the side of a toppled train car on the city outskirts. I did not make not of it at the time. Graffiti was everywhere in most cities. In the waning days of The Outbreak it became especially common as law and order crumpled.\n\n\"LTX. Alive We Strive.\" \n\nIt was on many of the abandoned building walls throughout the city. I thought it strange...\n\n\"LTX. Alive We Strive.\"\n\nIt was fresh, this one. Spraypainted on to the cracked concrete sidewalk on the city main street. I saw it on Sunday- my third day in the city. Strange, I thought. Since I had surveyed the street not 24 hours earlier and the unidentified message was nowhere to be seen on that particular street at that time.\n\n\"LTX. Alive We Strive.\"\n\nIt does not bring up any matches in my databases. But one thing is for sure. This city may be home to the last surviving remnants of humanity in the world. And I intend to find them.\n\nI am Nexus Medical-Unit 19. Garland started called me William, before he died. I call myself William Nexus. And after years of searching, it is possible I may have found the last thread of humanity. ", "Inkor Zalla parked her hovershuttle at the edge of the city and leaped out of the hatch. It was just one more city to scan, and then she could rejoin her crew. She frowned. This city, Phoenix, was just like the rest - empty, haunting, desolate. Depressing. She tried to shake the tragedy out of her mind. She was happy to do her duty, but she couldn’t fathom the loss of human life throughout.\n\nZalla and her crew, the fifty J-humans aboard the Fantasy, were one of the seven crews sent to Earth from Europa as soon as they heard the distress call. The colony on Mars had been too strained with their crop disaster to send a significant force. They had sent one ship, but that ship had gone off-radar almost immediately after landing. The flight from Europa had taken eight months, as always. All 350 J-humans had spent the trip wondering what they might find when they arrived.\n\nEarth was the origin, after all - the homeland. Zalla had been born on Europa, but she had visited Earth twice. Both times, the bustle and lights of the planet had awed her. At home, she stared whenever she saw someone in a vac-suit, but the people on Earth had paid her no mind. She supposed they got visitors often. Not anymore, though.\n\nZalla looked around her. The glass on the homes was almost all shattered, and their windows gaped out like empty, hungry eyes. She shuddered. Placing the scan-bots on the ground, she tapped her wrist tablet and started the search. It was a good thing that Earth’s legacy lived on in the Solar System. It had taken them so long to make it off the surface, and even longer to create colonies. It had only been possible after they had created not just the technology, but a new breed of human. Zalla was a J-human, her genetics designed to survive on one of Jupiter’s moons. The only other kinds were M-humans, who lived on Mars, and the small test colony of V-humans on Venus. The humans without a letter designation lived on Earth. Well, they had.\n\n\nZalla stood outside her hovershuttle and examined a house on the empty street. It was Victorian-style, with an odd protrusion on the top and a balcony. The majesty of the home was lessened by the gaping windows and the graffiti covering the front, often nothing more than rambling scrawl. She started to walk along the wide street, glass crunching beneath the boots of her vac-suit. She was alert, but there was nothing that could hurt her here - nothing moved. She kept an eye on the scan-bots above the city. \n\nThe reason that humans had ventured out in the first place had been their fear of mass extinction - they had known they were killing their planet. In the end, it hadn’t been enough to save them. Zalla and the other crews had been shocked when they arrived to a ghost-city, a ghost-country, and a ghost-planet. They hadn’t found a single human awaiting them - everyone was dead.\n\nThe first distress call had come when the planet started to lash against its inhabitants - tidal waves, earthquakes, storms. Europa and the other J-moons had sent food, but supplies were already strained from sending reserves to Mars. Then the distress calls had gotten frequent, but garbled. Then they stopped. By then, Zalla and the other ships had already been en route for 15 days. Even so, it was too late. The earthquakes and storms wouldn’t have killed them all, but the virus did. Zombies, not reanimated corpses, but slowly decaying humans who were being driven insane, had hunted out every last heartbeat - just like the old Earth movies. Zalla and her crew had found the corpses piled up, dead after the disease had run its course.\n\nNow, they were searching the landmasses, hoping desperately to find one last Earth human. If they could, then the gene history would be saved - more Earth humans could be created and nurtured in a stable colony until the virus could be cured and Earth was habitable. It had already proven impossible for scientists to reverse the alterations made to the genome of J-humans and M-humans. It was doubtful that any new strains could be made if there were no untainted samples to work off of. Zalla frowned.\n\nShe doubted that they would find anything. Days and days of trekking through deserted cities had disheartened her. At first, she had hoped that they might find some children, who seemed to be more resistant to the disease, but it had become apparent that even if the children were not affected, they had been sought out and killed by the madmen in the streets. Zalla tried not to cry when she remembered the little corpses boarded up inside a room. Someone, before the disease took their lucidity, had tried fruitlessly to protect them.\n\nZalla stopped walking. Her wristband had buzzed, which meant the scan-bots would be done soon. She turned and started to return to her hovershuttle, where she could review the scan. She wasn’t hopeful. As her vehicle came into view, she sighed. She was almost done with this awful, depressing job. Being back with her crewmates would help her shake off the horrors. She watched the scan-bots land by the shuttle, the only things moving in the wasteland. She glanced at the Victorian house.\n\nWait. Had that pink graffiti been there before? She could have sworn there were only black and red loops. And the pink streaks weren’t random - they were a word, in Common. It took a moment for her to process it. Help me. It’s too late. Help. She was almost certain that it hadn’t been there before, but was that possible? Could it mean-?\n\nZalla ran to her hovershuttle and tapped in the code to show her the scan, fingers trembling. She almost couldn’t believe what she saw. Two miles away, between buildings, was a red dot of a living person. A half-mile further, there were two more. That was all. Zalla’s breath was fast and hard. The graffiti had said “too late.” Was she out of time?\n\nThe hovershuttle would take too long to maneuver. Zalla took off at a dead sprint, the scan-bots trailing behind her. Her wrist tablet pointed her to the right course, between abandoned cars and crumbling structures. As she drew closer to the dots, she saw more pink graffiti on the walls. Help. We are here. Help. Before it’s too late. Help. We are alive. Help. Come save them. Help. I’m dying. Help. Zalla didn’t have time to ponder the confusing pronouns. Her blood was pounding in her ears. She knew the scan-bots were reporting her findings to the others, but they would be too late. She might be too late.\n\nZalla was almost to the street with the first red dot. She could hear the clanking of chains - that was confusing. She rounded the corner to the street and stopped dead. In the center of the street was a man, adult, and clearly in the grips of the deadly virus. She took a step back. He lifted his head and looked at her - it was awful. She could already tell the wastage was starting to set in.\n\n“No. Wait.” the man rasped, barely sounding human. She froze, trembling. “You have to help me.” Her breath hitched. She couldn’t go near him, couldn’t risk touching the infection.\n\n“I can’t, sir. I’m sorry. You’re infected with a virus-”\n\n“I know about the virus, dammit!” The man’s violent rasp scared her. “You have to help me save them. Listen to me. I’m almost out of time. You have to kill me, now, before it’s too late, before it gets my brain. Hurry!” Shocked by his tone, Zalla pulled out her shock-gun. It would stop his heart. She was numb, but she knew she would have to kill him anyway. “I tried my best to save them. You have to go - the third right and the yellow house. You have to help them. I tried my best, but it’s too late.” What was the man talking about? Zalla didn’t understand.\n\n“Hurry!” the man yelled at her. “Any minute now, I’ll be dangerous. Kill me, and save them. They’re the last hope.” Zalla pointed her gun at him, but her hand trembled. He was lucid. He was talking. How could she kill him?\n\nAt that moment, something changed in the man’s face. His eyes went wild. Letting out a crazed scream, he ran toward Zalla. Startled, she pulled the trigger, half by reflex, half by choice. He dropped. She let out a shaky breath. At least he had made the decision for her. Stepping forward, she saw the source of the noise she had heard while running. The man had been trying to chain himself to the light pole, but he hadn’t been able to fasten the links enough. He had known he was going crazy. But who had he been trying to protect?\n\nZalla spurred herself into a jog once more, trying not to think about the brave, brave man lying in the street behind her. Once she was done with this, she would try to find out who he was. She passed two right-turn streets and turned onto the third one, eyes scanning to find a yellow house. She was nearing the two other dots on her map. She saw it at last - a pastel yellow, the house looked better than the others around it. The windows were smashed, but someone had tied a tarp over the openings. \n\nZalla pushed at the front door and it fell in, torn off the hinges by an earlier intruder. She stepped quietly into the house. Tuning her vac-suit, she thought she could hear breathing coming from the room off the hallway to her left. She was more careful with this door, easing it open slowly. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw a small form, standing in front of a crib with another small lump in it. Two heartbeats. The older girl turned toward the light.\n\n“Daddy?”\n" ]	8
	[WP] "Yeah, that still doesn't explain how you were mugged by a duck."	[ "It was going to be a good day for Officer Gladstone. He was sure of it. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and best of all, today was his last day before retirement. Happily munching on a maple-glazed and bacon topped doughnut inside of his squad car, he had time to reflect before the drudgery of a typical working day began one last time. \n\nHe'd only been on the job for 4 and a half years. During that time he'd acquired a number of nicknames. He remembered with fondness when his first partner, Jackie Owens had called him Mr.Bumbles for the first time which he assumed was a reference to his favorite yellow and black colored polo shirt that he usually put on in the mornings at the station before donning the drab mandatory police officer outfit that the city required. Well he wouldn't be Mr.Bumbles for much longer he thought to himself. Although he prided himself on being able to get through the day with the minimal amount of effort required he'd somehow caught the eye of the top brass and been nominated for an early retirement with full pay and pension. All he had to do was get through the day and then it'd be all smiles, golf and beer for the next couple of decades. \n\n\"10-3. Nearest unit please report. Bumbles...oh god...ah f*** it. Bumbles do you copy\"\n\nQuickly scarfing down the last of a salty gooey mess barely recognizable anymore as a doughnut, Officer Gladstone, reached one sticky hand over to the receiver and replied, \"Gladstone, I copy. On my way..I guess.\" He tried his best but he couldn't quite hide the annoyance in his voice. It was his last day g'dammit and he'd specifically parked himself in the safest and most boring part of the city to avoid doing anything. \n\nAs he pulled up to the 7-11 parking lot, Officer Gladstone rolled down his window and began speaking to the person he assumed had made the call. Time was of the essence, and he didn't want to be working any longer than he had to. \"Hey, you there. You call in the theft?\n\nThe man, dark skinned, with a thin mustache, rakish build and angry eyes, replied in a heavy accent, \"No shit, muchacho. You see any other assholes waiting in the parking lot?\"\n\n\"Hey listen buddy. I'm the one that's supposed to help you. So just cool it, give me a goddammned statement, and we can both be on our way. Name?\" barked Officer Gladstone.\n\nCursing his ill luck at getting such a fat, and obviously incompetent officer, Pedro did his best to describe what had happened. He had begun his day as manager of the local 7-11 as he always did, by counting the till from the night before. However, as he did so, eyes narrowed, back rigid with anger, he soon came to the conclusion that it was $600 short. A small percentage of the daily sales but enough to enrage him and immediately call the police. He was sure it was Dak, the new night stock boy who he'd just hired. He would never allow him to close on his own under normal circumstances but the night before his wife had texted him a rather racy photo of herself scantily clad under the covers with the single line, \"Ven. Ahora.\" You don't ignore texts like that. Throwing the keys to Dak with a hurried explanation of closing procedure he'd booked it out of the building as fast as he could. \n\nWhich brought him to right now. And this officer. This idiot who wasn't understanding a word he said. He'd lived in this country for 10 years now and he usually never had an issue but this gringo was pretending his accent was too thick just so he could pass on the case to someone else. Typical. \n\n\"You know what, f*ck it. Let's just you and me head down to the station. I think I got enough here anyways. Officer Perez can take over,\" a frustrated but appeased Officer Gladstone announced. \n\n20 minutes later, Officer Perez stood in a small interview room with Pedro. \"Okay, I think we better start from the beginning. I'm really not understanding this. I've gone through Gladstone's report 3 times. Yeah, that still doesn't explain how you were mugged by a duck.\"\n\nThat was enough for Pedro. Throwing a chair through the window, he let all the anger and rage that had slowly built inside of him since he'd first seen Officer Gladstone pull up, come out in a torrential rush of emotion. \n\nAs he sobbed in his cell that night, where they had placed him until he could calm down, Tom, a loose-lipped but well-meaning drunk put a hand on his shoulder.\n\n\"Hey man, it's gonna be okay. What's wrong? Why are people around here saying a duck got you?\" he asked in a soothing \n\n\"Ay. Dios. Foul Play amigo. I said that fucker Dak did foul play.\"\n\nTom chuckled. Fucking Gladstone. " ]	1
	[WP] You arrive in the afterlife. It seems just like Earth, however you are informed by somebody that the water causes you to forget your past life. It's day two. You're getting really thirsty.	[ "A vaguely angelic-looking man in a white suit held a glass of water out to me. \n\n“Just take a drink and get it over with. That’s what I always say,” he said as if we were old friends. “What’s worth remembering about life on Earth anyway? Earth’s full of assholes.”\n\n“Excuse me?” I said, eyeing the water. “Where exactly am I?”\n\n“Oh, you haven’t realized yet? You’re dead. Gone. Deceased. Dearly departed. Bereft of life. You no longer walk amongst the living.”\n\n“Am I in heaven?”\n\n“Well technically we just call this place ‘The Afterlife.’ Everyone gets a fresh start. Jews, Christians, Hindus, atheists, everyone. We don’t discriminate based on religion like you assholes down on Earth. You just gotta drink the water first and then BOOM. Blank slate. Eternal peace and all that jazz.”\n\n“Was it the car crash?” I asked, ignoring the bit about the water. I wasn’t ready to forget.\n\n“Yep. Looks like you died from…” he thumbed through the chart on his clipboard, “blunt force trauma to the head. You hit a telephone pole. Who the fuck doesn’t wear a seatbelt in 2017?”\n\nI ignored his question. “Did anyone else in the car die? Is Rachel ok?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer. I pictured Rachel sadly smiling as she pushed her curly black hair behind her ear. We had spent the evening playing darts and drinking gin and tonics at our local dive bar – she always ordered hers with an extra lime. I had assured her that I was fine to drive, and I guess I really thought I was. I could never forgive myself if my driving had killed her.\n\n“How the fuck am I supposed to know? Does this chart say ‘Rachel’ on it? No, it says ‘Sam Markowitz.’ Look kiddo, I got shit to do. Do you want this water or not?”\n\n“No. I have some unfinished business to take care of.” I replied, trying to disregard the fact that my throat felt like I’d swallowed sand. \n\n“Well, suit yourself. But everyone gets thirsty eventually…” and with that, he walked away.\n\n-------------------\n\n[Two days later…]\n\nI hadn’t slept in two days. I’d asked just about every person I saw if they knew where I could find Rachel, but of course no one could help me. They’d all long-since drank the water and had gotten on with their eternal peace. I walked into every sort of place Rachel used to hang out: libraries, Thai restaurants, public parks, dive bars… But I was getting so thirsty. \n\nI walked into the 35th dive bar I had visited in the past two days, hoping desperately that maybe this one would be the one Rachel would be in. Looking around the empty bar, I knew I had to give in. I tried everything I could, but my throat was so dry that I couldn’t think about anything else. “Can I get you anything?” the bartender asked.\n\n“Water” I replied, resigning myself to my fate. As the cold water trickled down my parched throat, I felt all my worries melt away. “Maybe this Afterlife place isn’t so bad,” I thought to myself. “I don’t know what I missed about life on Earth anyway.” \n\nJust then, a pretty girl walked in. “What can I get you, miss?” the bartender asked.\n\n“Gin and tonic, please – extra lime,” the girl said, brushing her curly black hair behind her ear." ]	1
	[WP]You discover time travel is controlled by a special part of the brain. While testing out that part of your brain, you receive a head injury damaging it. This causes you to travel to a random time period ever ten hours.	[ "It was groundbreaking. My work was finally going to get the attention it deserved. The anthropologists and biologists will all be apologizing to me soon.\n\nI wrote my paper after some testing on chimpanzees; the brain structure was similar and I found an area that had been over looked and not recorded. Behind the pituitary gland, I noticed another small gland. There was no vascular pathways to it so I way a bit perplexed. I decided that one should be made; I added a vein and an artery to this area. I left the lab to wash and returned a short time later.\n\nThe animal vanished, right off the table. I searched and searched and could not find it. I decided to do it again but place a tracker on it. I found the same area, with a lack of blood, and repeated my experiment. I closed up the skull, but this time, with a tracker placed inside. I left to wash up and, just like previous, the creature had gone. The aesthetic was still connected when I left so it couldn't have woken up and walked off. The area was sealed and I would've known if anyone came in.\n\nIt didn't make sense at the time. I turned my computer on and the tracker was actively showing the chimp. The problem was the chip was showing to be in LA, not here in Vancouver. I sat down on the lab stool and thought. My brain started to hurt with all the questions I had. The only way my questions would get answered was if I was to see the chimp itself. LA likely meant it was in a zoo or an animal shelter of some kind, so I called around. There was a simian sanctuary in east LA and said they had a chimp with a scar on it's head. \n\nScar? I thought nothing of it as the coordinates were near the address she gave me. I flew down and had a cab take me directly to this sanctuary. A women with grey hair greeted me as I walked through the door and brought me over to the glass windows. The sanctuary had a few trees, swings, a pond and some large rocks. She pointed to a chimp sitting on the tallest rock, turned staring at the wall. It wasn't moving very much. She informed me that that particular chimp was found wandering LA about 3 years ago. They brought it here when they noticed it was bleeding from a large gash in it's head, a show monkey they figured. \n\n3 years ago? How is that possible? I asked them to do a CT of it's head because I was \"concerned\" as a fellow biologist. They said they would perform one tomorrow and let me know if they found anything. They did. An email confirmed that there was a small, microchip looking object lodged in it's head. This led me to the conclusion that I had found biological time travel. \n\nThe next few years were full of other tests and scans on humans and I found the same area of no vascularity. I wrote my paper and the scholars laughed, destroyed my reputation and forced me to this. I had one colleague who believed me after I showed him one of my experiments. It was my turn. He knew the proceedure, I knew the risks, I was going to show them all. My partner counted me down and then, nothing. \n\nI awoke on the same table, head wrapped up. My partner was gone and there were instrumentation everywhere. I heard yelling off to the side, it was the police, they were coming back. I began to feel a steange sensation in my feet, I ripped off the blanket to find the skin, flaking away as if some invisible fire was burning it away.\n\nIt continued until my entire body was fading. It burned like a real fire and then I was gone, the last image I had was two officers hunched over near the doorway. I woke up in an alleyway, it was raining and cold. Glancing down I noticed I was naked and my head was starting to drip blood. I walked towards the mouth of the alley and into the street. Everyone was wearing fur and long coats. The hats were like short top hats with wide brims and the women wore caps decorated in lace. The cars gave it away, this was the 20's. \n\nEveryone backed away in disgust and let me make my way. I found a side street with almost nobody on it and tried my luck in this direction. A mannequin in a window caught my attention, a clothing store. The door was locked, I saw a bundle of newspaper on the curb and grab some. I glanced at the papers and the date confirmed my suspicion, it was 1924. After wrapping my hand in the bundle, I punched a hole in the glass above the doorknob and let myself in.\n\nI dressed myself in whatever fit, wrapped my head in a scarf and sat in a chair beside the change rooms. I faded off to sleep due to exhaustion. I woke up and that familiar burning was starting again. I saw sunlight poke it's way through the glass, as a disgruntled, stout man entered, what was presumably, his shop. I woke up on a metal floor of some moving object, I looked up and saw a bunch of people, in more modern clothes, looking at me over their thin, opaque tablets.\n\nSomeone helped me up and covered me in their long coat. I asked them what year it was, there were a bit taken back by the question but entertained it nonetheless, 2033, she said. Everything was steel and glass and lights, it was beautiful. She told me to keep the jacket and got off at the next stop. I fell asleep on the bench of the train. Someone woke me up and short time later and said I shouldn't sleep here or the \"Sec Police\" would take me in. I heeded their advice and got off at the next stop. That familiar burning started again so I found the lavatory, sat on the floor and embraced it.\n\nWaking up, it was cold and there was a taste of salt in the air. The rocking motion informed me I was on a boat of sorts. Chain swung from the sealing and vehicles jolted back and forth with the motion of the ship. I heard gun fire above and the steel tanks and other machines of war told me this was not a place I wanted to be. The chimp didn't disappear all the time, they had it for 3 years, why was my experience different?\n\nWas I destined to walk through time, not in control of where or when? Is this the price I pay for avarice?" ]	1
	[WP] You are a captured POW in a dangerous foreign country. You are about to undergo your first torture session. The method: being dipped head-first into a barrel of acid. The hallucinogenic, not the hazardous corrosive substance.	[ "Little did they know, I've been prepared for this since I was a late teen. Rather than scared for my life I was nervouse, for I had never taken this large of a dose. I knew I had to go into it with out fear, and embrace the psychedelic hell to come. They tie me up so my arms and legs were bound together, the rope tightening around my wrists. I was brought into a dark room with one spot light pointing at a large pool. I'm hooked up to some sort of pully device and I'm started to be raised in the air, I close my eyes and feel the blodd rush to my head, \"oh god, I've only ever taken 3 tabs max! And this is pure LSD!\" I start to get panicked, but quickly remember that its all in my head, I have to relax and go with the flow.\nI begin to feel tge top of my head getting wet, as my whole head is sumberged not even to my shoulders yet I can feel it, behind my eyelids I can see swirls of colors, its beautiful, before I know it I'm being raised back up, everything is confusing, the blood rushes back through my body as I'm lowerd and unhooked, the floor is breathing, I can barely walk, it feels like my legs turned to noodles. I'm brought into a small very bright room, my eyes can't handle all of the light so I close them, but that doesnt help, a large man with a thick beard come in, he starts yelling in a laungue I've never heard before, hes waving his arms frantically, trying to explain something to me but nothings getting through, im blinded by tye dye, I feel as if I'm soaring through space. The next thing I know I'm back in my cell, it had to of been hours since I was dosed because its dark out now. Still groggy and feeling the lingering affects I ask another POW how long I was gone for, he said \"no ones seen you for 3 days! Then when they dropped you off you slept for amother day, we thought you had died.\" \n", "You proceed to have an experience that is far beyond being described by mere words, and realize the infinite vibrations of existence that coalesce into the world that we call \"reality\". Your torturer says, \"Mannn, this is some serious bullshit. I'm tired of having a fucking hippy for a commander. All we've managed to do so far is create an army of counter-cultural prisoners who won't shut their GOD DAMN MOUTHS about \"everything being one\". I don't get paid enough for this shit...\"", "\"Kaleidoscope\". It's a peculiar word. You found the toy to be amusing as a child; you had even heard of boutique one's that had sold to persons of higher social standing than were familiar to you. The way that a tube crammed full of mirrors and colored glass could mangle reality so artistically was. . . you weren't particularly aware of the proper description for the action. Distorted, maybe? \n\nThe flood of childhood memories that accompanied this train of thought were quickly abated. The lack of blood flowing to your feet, as well as the excess to your brain, proved beneficial to your imagination, but not so much to your concentration. The footsteps around you are audible, but liquid in your ears muffled the accompanying conversation. You feel gravity give way; momentarily. Viscous fluid permeating your face was one of the more unpleasant experiences humans may come across. Breath is an ephemeral concept when one is deprived of it. At the last throes of your stubborn refusal of breath you twitch, before inevitably giving in to a gasp. An attempted gasp more truthfully. A flood of bitter tar enters into your mouth and nose without debate.\n\nThe kaleidoscopic sensation returns as stars erupt inside your head, your senses rocketed to space. The universe is vast and cold. Unforgiving in it's enormity. A faint star forming in the corner of your eye glistens. It burns brighter, growing years older and light years larger in moments. This egg of primordial energy burn before you. You reach out to grasp the egg only to realize it eludes your grasp in size and distance. The realization of this acquaints your with the coldness of space. Your eyes close to find peace in your own consciousness.\n\nIn the vast quiet you hear a solitary hymn, feeling an accompanying warmness on your face. Your eyes open to the same star at the same distance, only now a vast crack has materialized on the surface. You feel kindness, not like anything you've felt in your captivity. An outstretched hand is all that can be offered. From this sublime yolk an appendage of some pastafarian nature crept out. This appendage met with yours in an exchange of warmth. The returning flow of your blood.\n\nThe binding of your feet slacked.\n\nPulled into this burning cradle you understand what you've found: Salvation." ]	3
Sorry if I have grammar mistakes on the title, I'm kinda bad writing in English	[WP] You wake up alone in a desert island. The only thing that you have is a note from your enemy: no one is going to find you here. You decide to live the fullest to piss him/her off	[ "(It is my first try. Sorry if it is long, or if you encounter any grammatical errors, English is not my mother tongue.)\n\nI woke up to beautiful sound of waves, and itching from sand. How did I get here? I was at a yatch party before, with Y. Shouldn’t have had that many tequila shots. How many had I have ? 15? 16? My head hurt so much as I tried to find my cell. As I grabbed it, I felt a post-it behind, sticked on my phone. What the…\n\n“No worries, honey. You will be stuck here forever. Take care. Your dear husband, J.”\n\nI met J at college. We both came from middle-class families, both studying computer engineering, both aspiring to start our own businesses. Together we set up a successful android application company in 2013. Got married in 2014. Got rich very quickly.\n \nWe were never in love. Our relationship was built on friendship, common goals and trust. We were more ambitious than anything, to be honest. Our sex life was alright. Our conversations were alright. It was a good relationship.\n\nWell, of course, I was not satisfied. As I wasn’t, with anything in life. It was never enough for me. I was thirsty by nature.\n\nI went on a vacation with my girl friends to Santorini, last year. We took on a new project, but I was drained, as we worked without a break for 2 years before. J seemed like he did not want to take a break, so he encouraged me to take a break with my friends instead. My friends are all married, successful entrepreneur ladies like me, so together we could easily afford an expensive vacation abroad. \n\nAs crazy as it sounds, I never cheated on J before last year. Honestly I don’t know whether he cheated on me or not. I don’t care. He came home, and cooked dinner, and had energy to have sex with me whenever I wanted. Maybe he did, maybe he did not, but he always came back for me.\n\nI did not.\n\nWe were at a prestigious party at our second night in Santorini. I sticked together with my friend group for some time, until they all found themselves some Greek hottie (and preferably rich, too) to spend the night with. I talked to some people, then sat alone at the bar. My plan was to drink one more cocktail before I go back to my hotel room. I was disinterested in having an affair, as it would not benefit me. Then, a tall, muscular man sat next to me. When I saw his face, I knew.\nThat I was taking him back to my hotel room tonight.\n\nI did not know what happened to me that night. I still don’t. To me, love was some chemical work at play that I would never, ever get a taste of. It would suit me, as love was something unnecessary. \n\nI still don’t know if I love Y, that man who sat beside me at the bar that night. All I know is that, I still feel an unnecessary amount of lust towards him.\n\nSo much unnecessary that I left my successful marriage for him.\n\nIt was surely foolish of me, although Y is a shipowner, who is richer than all of my friends combined, he had no interest in establishing a business, his money came from his father. He just likes to spend all of his money around with no purpose. What a wasted potential.\n\nBut whenever he calls me, I go to him. It has been a year like this.\n\nJ, at first, tolerated it. Until Y asked me to marry him, and leave J. Like a fool, I hired a divorce lawyer. \n\nJ did not like this at all. Not because of our marriage, because of our company. We would have to split it into half, all the assets, everything.\n \nI did not care anymore, but J cared very much of it of course. So I guess that is why he tried to get rid of me.\n\nI checked my phone. No signals, no wifi, nothing. All I heard was bird noises. I deicded to walk around the island, to cure some of my hangover hopefully, and to see if there are any humans other than me. I got a very nasty feeling that I was alone here.\n\nAfter walking around for an hour in this small island, I was sure that nasty feeling was not for nothing. There were small rabbits, birds, a river, a lake, but no humans. Good news was, there were no dangerous animals as well. I could survive here, and maybe get rescued quickly. Or maybe not, as J said, maybe I would be stuck here forever. That would be horrendous I thought.\n\nI could only be that wrong.\n\nAfter a few days in the island, I realised that I felt…refreshed? It was a new feeling to me. I always cared about money, and power but never thought about myself, my needs, my being as a whole. I thought all that meditation crap, and getting away from the modern world, from the wifi and all, was some hippie bullsh*t but I guessed they were right in some way.\n\nI never thought I was the type to like nature. I was always very introverted, and really did not like human presence, so I did not feel lonely. I didn’t even miss Y, and I certainly didn’t miss J or my friends. I didn’t miss my busy work life, I didn’t miss writing codes,didn’t miss weekly meetings of the company, didn’t miss our luxurious apartment. \n\nI felt something I never felt in my life before, happiness. That I never felt when I garduated, the day I got married, when I was in Y’s arms. \n\nI can't believe I wasted my life to attain such superficial things for nothing, till now.\n\nI am at last, free. Thanks to my worst enemy who hoped to erase me from the face of the earth to take all of the things I worked for my whole life.\n\nTake it all. I found what I needed, at last. I don’t feel any thirst anymore.\n\nMy worst fear is getting “rescued”.\n", "Andy Sol, lay on the sun blessed beach of an unknown island. His skin glowed from the force of the unrelenting sun. He slowly opened his eyes to see a small crab staring back at him. He then shot upright, rubbing the sand out of his sore eyes. Puzzlement came over Andy as this wasn't his bed, his house, or possibly even his country. After taking in the view of the never ending blue abyss, he looked down to see a note attached to his arm by a rubber band.\n\n“No one is going to find you here,” Andy read, “... fuck…”\n\nHe knew who this was, it could only be one person. You see back home Andy was a financial consultant; a successful one at that. He has the car, the house, the wife and everything that you ideally want. Until recently, all of the clients Andy handled were perfectly happy with his services but the most recent of which was shall we say... less happy. The man was known as Mr.Dives, multi-millionaire, known for his success and ruthlessness in business. \n\nAndy recently made a very unethical decision, one that would please his firm, specifically about five to eight million dollars worth of please; that would in turn be taken from Mr.Dives. Andy would later realise his mistake...\n\nDespite the rather grim situation Andy found himself in, he was… happy. After the initial shock of course, but there is no better word to describe his feeling. It was all gone, the unpaid car, huge mortgage, broken marriage, a 100k in student loans and that high stress job. He knew exactly what to do as he often imagined a similar situation happening, and of course who doesn’t like to be prepared for their mid day-dream fantasy.\n\nIn the following years Andy created tools, shelter, traps for food, new clothes from hides and even managed to find himself an extra curvy piece of driftwood to replace the misses. He created his own little slice of paradise out of the island, but he often wondered if Mr.Dives checked up on him or knew how well he was doing; or if he was alive at all. Then Andy decided to prove it to him…\n\nHe devised a plan to create a new identity, no way was he going back to the old life of debt and stress. This would take dedication and time but he had those two in bucket loads. He scared his face and even knocked a few teeth threw with a stick and rock to make this new character unique. A few weeks passed as he built a towering mound of wood to catch the attention of a passing boat. \n\nEventually a boat passed and saw the fire, the minute he stepped onto the deck, was the minute he became Caden Archard, the fisherman who washed up on this island after a storm. After arriving back to the mainland, Caden’s story soon went viral. \n\n“What was your first thought when you woke up on the island ?” asked the news reporter. \n\nCaden looked straight into the camera, “No one will ever find me here…”\n" ]	2
	[WP] You're a thief. You steal an expensive camera from what you think is a foreign tourist. But after looking through their pictures, you quickly realize that you have messed with the wrong person.	[ "\"Holy shit\" I breathed as I flicked through picture after picture of what I could only describe as pure savagery.\n\nI felt a tingling sensation at the back of my neck, and I looked nervously over my shoulder expecting the worst. \n\nThere was nothing, and I stowed away the camera and began walking whilst thinking very fast.\n\nOptions, options. Well this is clearly the work of a deranged being, and they need to be brought to justice.... but I can't turn it the camera without explaining how I got it.... fuck!\n\nAs I rounded the corner, I looked up and locked eyes with the very same woman I had taken the camera from. I froze like a rabbit caught in headlights, and she walked up to me slowly savouring every moment of my torment.\n\n\"I take it that you have seen my, ah, portfolio\" she cooed, reaching over and taking the camera out of my open bag, as my hands locked in terror.\n\n\"Y-you're..... you're sick!\" I stammered, and tried to call for help but my voice died in my throat and I could only look around bewildered.\n\n\"My, my,\" she said, licking her lips, \"aren't we judgemental.\"\n\n\"You w-won't get away with this!\"\n\n\"I already have,\" she whispered, and brushed her hair into my face as she walked past.\n\nIt took a few moments but my fear paralysis wore off and theft or no theft, I had to report her to the police before she targeted more victims.\n\nI ran down the street and into the local precinct, where a bewildered constable sat behind the desk as I ran in. \n\n\"There's a crazy lady out there, and she's - she's taking cat photos!\"\n\nThe constable raised an eyebrow, but shook his head questioningly. \"And?\"\n\n\"And she's posting them on the internet!\"\n\nHis lip trembled in disbelief and a lone single tear fell from his eye, splashing on his desk. He looked at me imploringly, but I nodded sadly in confirmation, and I saw his heart break as mine had done not so long ago.\n\n\"A-All units,\" he called into his walkie, \"we're going to need all units. There's a maniac on the loose.\"", "\"Hey, give it back!\"\n\nI ran, flat out up Broadway and swung a hard left on 50th. A line of theatre-goers waited patiently for the \"Book of Mormon\" lottery and I weaved in and through them out to 8th Ave. There was a grocery store on the corner, and I ducked into the produce aisle. Casually eyeing some apples, outwardly pondering Granny Smiths against Macintoshes, I kept an eye out and waited for the NYPD to pass by.\n\nOnce the coast cleared, I headed back onto the street. This wasn't my first rodeo. There was always an initial chase by the local boys in blue, but it never lasted more than like 20 minutes. It's not as if they were going to canvas all of Manhattan for some elderly Japanese man's lost Nikon. With the camera tucked safely into my lucky purple backpack, I nonchalantly made my way to my place back in Hell's Kitchen.\n\nThe elevator sputtered and spurted to the 7th floor, and I slipped through the hallway to 7E. My laptop sat on my bed in the center of the studio, USB cord already prepped for cleaning the memory out. Let me explain. You never want to sell a camera with pictures on it. It's bad business. A while back, a pawn shop client of mine had to give up a wicked pricey DSLR after footing me $150 in cash after the guy I lifted it off got a positive ID based on the pictures saved. Next time I went back, dude called the cops on me, and I ended up busting my ass all the way to Washington Heights just to get them off my trail. Now I'm down a customer and have to watch my back in Chelsea.\n\nSo, I plugged in the camera and set to deleting everything off it, but not before I took a peek. Let me explain again, but you wouldn't know if you've never stolen cameras. You never know what sort of kinky shit some dude has on his camera. Everybody thinks the stuff they put on film is normal, but it's all weird as hell. I looked over at my wall at the collection of photos I'd printed off people's camera's. Some were gorgeous landscapes, majestic wildlife and the like. I appreciate the good stuff, I really do. But more than that, most of what I hung up were just hilarious. Some fat chick doing a boudoir set with a python wrapped across her shoulders. Homemade pornos with fluffy pink handcuffs. An unexpectedly significant number of toilet shots of what I presume were shits that were the stuff of song and legend. Other, how to put this, things I probably shouldn't mention here. Scouting this creepy old dude for five blocks, he seemed like he had to have something wall-worthy.\n\nAfter clicking the full screen button, the first photo filled up the laptop screen. Wasn't anything special. Some old lady in Japan. She was frail, looked under five feet tall without hardly any flesh to her old bones. Her hair was a ghostly white. She was just sitting on the bench. I assumed it was a relative. Boring.\n\nSecond photo was a child, also somewhere in Asia. Skip.\n\nThird, fourth, fifth photos were all the same. Lots of pictures of random folks in a country I'd never been to. My luck looked poor.\n\nStill, I scrolled forward to his New York City pictures. If nothing else, it's always interesting to me what tourists think are worth capturing. \"Oh look, a subway!\" I swear to god, if I miss another 6 train because you won't get out of my way taking your picture of the subway map, I'm throwing you onto the tracks myself. No joke, I once counted the number of midwesterners (I assume) taking pictures of the world's biggest TGI Friday's on a given day, and you don't want to know what it came to.\n\nThis guy looks like he started downtown. There was actually a nice shot of a young woman in Battery Park with the Statue of Liberty far off in the distance. Her hair was long and blonde, and her face was hidden away beneath an enormous pair of sunglasses. Her sandals looked like they may precariously tip off into the water.\n\nIn the next shot, a man tried to hop up and ride the bull just outside the stock exchange. In the next, a man pretended to \"make it rain\" in front of the Wall Street sign. In the next, there was an old lady just sitting on the street. She wore a smile that looked moments from breaking into tears. There was a shamefulness to her, as if the camera had over exposed her.\n\nIn the next, I got bored and flipped briefly to the internet, refreshing my Twitter. There, the New York Times had just posted, \"Local woman shot and killed by NYPD after carrying gun to entrance of NYSE\". There was a photo. If it hadn't been the top post, I don't think I would have noticed. It was her. It was the sad old lady from the tourist's camera.\n\nThe story read that Marissa Jones had drawn her weapon just outside the stock exchange at the closing bell. Police are still investigating, but they suspect she had lost a great deal of her investment in the crash the prior day. No further comment.\n\nThe story concluded by flagging that this was the second fatal shooting of the day in Manhattan. I clicked the link to the other story, and gasped aloud alone in my bed. The blonde woman standing in front of the Statute of Liberty stared back at me. In the photo they released, she wore the same ridiculous sunglasses. Reading through, she had been jumped in a side street down by Chinatown while trying to buy a fake Louis Vuitton purse. Shot twice. Dead on arrival at Bellevue.\n\nPanicking, I flipped through the man's photos, cross-checking with obituaries and news outlets. I couldn't trace them all down, but a shocking number of the folks in this man's camera had died shortly after their picture was taken. I scrolled all the way to the end. It was a shot I was familiar with, taken from the giant red staircase in the center of Times Square. A young man crossed the street in front of the ball that they drop every year at New Year's. He was average height, brown hair, brown eyes, maybe 20. He had on tennis shoes, jeans and a hoodie, with an empty-looking purple backpack slung across his shoulder.\n\nIt was me." ]	2
	[WP] You have an unusual curse. Unbeknownst to those around you, the weather you experience is based on your ever-changing emotions.	[ "Being bipolar is tough. Especially when the weather changes based on my mood.\n\nWhen I'm happy, it's partly cloudy, mild, and there's just enough of a breeze to tug your hair.\n\nWhen I'm sad, the sky is solid grey, a murky shade that makes you feel sick, and it rains so heavily you get soaked to the bone the second you step outside.\n\nIf I get angry, clouds move in, big thunderheads crackling with electricity, and a lightning storm starts, usually causing a blackout.\n\nThose times I get excited and hyper, it's clear and sunny, and just warm enough to go swimming.\n\nMy favourite time, though, is when I feel content. It's rare, but it's wonderful. The sky is a blue-grey, wisps of fog curl around roads and buildings and over grassy yards, and a gentle misting rain starts, just cooler than the air.\n\nOne day, I want to find someone or something that calms my mood swings and lets me stay content. " ]	1
	[WP] I'm living on coffee and broken dreams. Now I've got to fix this tear in the....	[ "I'm living on coffee and broken dreams. Now I've got to fix this tear in the space-time continuum, and it's a big one. It don't take much to change a whole lot either. A shift in air currents could cause a catastrophic storm. It takes more work than I care to imagine to fix this problem and enough negative energy to get back Alpha Centauri and back. It may seem glamorous, but almost anyone could do it. \n\nYou just apply the negative energy to the tear like a mason applies cement. It don't take much to fix it. I thought I'd be a ship pilot or something like that until the robots took my job, most jobs. It's okay, not great. The hours can be long. \n\nThe guidebook stipulates that if some object emerges from the tear or something from this time is sucked into the tear, I have to go after it. I grab my bucket and tools. I have an applicator to apply to the negative energy, and a chronometer to measure the time it came from. \n\nAs I approach the tear, I pass a group of humaniform robots that don't even look at me. They are all perfect, godlike. The tear is 20 meters high and 3 wide with small cracks emerging on the edge of it. You start from the outside of the hole to stop expansion and move inward. The hole is too large from me to stay on the ground. I put on my stilts and head to the top moving downward. I drop to 15 meters when I hear screaming on the other side. I look to see a woman running from men. \n\nShe sees me and heads for the hole. I work faster. I hold the chronometer in my mouth and push my face against the hole, so I can work and record in the meantime. The woman is close. I look at the time, -1148 AU. The chronometer only gives a time, not a location. The woman jumps through the hole as I seal the last of it. A sword stabs through the hole barely missing the woman. It is pulled back. I seal the hole and fall back away from it. \n\nI look at the woman. She is pretty and wears clothes that much nicer than mine. She speaks archaic French, but I hear it as English. \n\n\"Thank you. Without your help, I would have lost my head.\" \n\n\"Who are you?\" I ask. \n\n\"You do not know your queen?\"\n\nOh no, she is nobility. The overseers were going to be all over him soon. This was a termination offense. I do not know her name. \n\n\"You are not my queen. This is not your time. It's 989 AU.\"\n\n\"AU?\" She asks. \n\n\"After unification. Solar unification in this case.\" \n\n\"What? That is impossible. Are you a wizard?\" \n\nI laugh. \"No ma'am. This is all routine, but you must go back to your time, the sooner the better.\" \n\nHer chest heaves. She breathes hard still. \n\n\"I will be killed if I go back.\" \n\n\"And I will be killed if you stay. My thoughts are already being scanned. I may still be terminated, but I will have a chance if I turn you in. So c'mon, we need to report you. A case can be made for your to stay here as a time refugee. It's hard to be accepted but not impossible.\" \n\nShe hugs my arm, her chest pressed against me. She pleads for help as the overseers arrive. We are both taken into headquarters. An overseer, a robot, questions me. \n\n\"How did this human arrive here?\" It asks. \n\n\"She jumped through the hole.\" \n\n\"Unacceptable. Why did you not send her back?\" \n\n\"My own safety,\" I respond. \n\n\"Unacceptable. The punishment is death. You will die.\"\n\n\"Her punishment is death. I will not change the past. May I be sent back with her?\" I ask. \n\nI have no reason to ask for this other than she is the first human contact I have had in two years. \n\n\"No, you may not. Even your breathing could change history, a misstep in the soil. Space-time is delicate. You will be subject to death by black hole.\" \n\nThat is an unusual punishment. It does not always result in death unless I will be thrown into it directly. The robot stands and helps me to my feet. It pushes out the room where I catch a glimpse of the woman sent back to die. I am taken to the contained mini-black where I left in the antechamber. I watch as the door opens. No suit, no chance of survival. The doors instantly, and I sucked into the pea-sized black hole. \n\nWhen I open my eyes, I am next to her on the ground. The men chasing after her appear in the distance. She looks at me in fear. I stare back at her hopeful. She takes my hand and whispers in my ear, \"run.\" I do, and I escape. I watch as she is captured. \n\nIn the two coming years, I join the revolution. I fight for freedom and enjoy this simple life. I watch as her life ends just as it's supposed to. History is restored, for now. " ]	1
	[WP] When the colony lost contact with Earth, they sent ships to reestablish contact. When the ships arrived...	[ "Space distorted and changed colours quickly as the three spaceships braked hard, leaving warp speed. They had been travelling at their max speed, 2 times the speed of light, and as such the braking manoeuvre created quite the show. \n\n\"Stat rep.\" Captain Huxley's voice was calm but strong. Determined. Demanding yet respectful. \n\n\"All three vessels successfully left warp, sir. Everything is nominal, no systems or integrity damage. First scans show nothing near us, deep scans are still running.\" \n\nHuxley nodded at the young operator that sat in front of him. She and the two other operators had their working stations pointed towards him, so they could maintain visual contact as they worked. He looked over at the second operator, a male. \n\n\"Pluto station is not answering our calls or hails, sir. I can't find any of the other stations either. According to the system, there is nothing nearby while we should be registering at least twenty stations to contact. Some relays at the very least.\"\n\nHuxley nodded to the man as well and then looked at the third operator, a woman in her thirties. Merlon, or Officer Sunchi, and the captain knew each other and were friends. But they left that out of their job. She spoke in a soft but clear voice. \n\n\"There is no radio chatter, on any band or frequency. There are no flight plans being sent out. There are no wakes of other ships as far as our sensors can see and there are no energy wakes either at the standard warp points.\"\n\nHuxley nodded again and thought for a moment, leaving the bridge in silence aside of the notifications and beeps of the systems. It was all odd enough but what really worried him was that the standard warp points were cold. These points had been agreed upon when Humanity first ventured out with warp capable ships so that there were safe zones to enter and leave warp speed. Normally these points would be bright hot for their sensors, filled with energy that is created by braking or accelerating. \n\nThem being cold could only mean two things; either they changed the standard points without notifying them, added to the previous communication blackout that was worrying enough. But it was also possible that there simply was no warp travel happening anymore in the Sol system, which was terrifying as well, even more so as the former perhaps. \n\n\"Okay, focus deep scans on Pluto and other known locations of spacecraft. Then expand on probable trajectories. I want to know if these stations are still there and if they are, why they are not replying. Set course for Pluto station as well but keep a possible Pluto orbit on the table as well. Save as much fuel and energy as possible. Whole ship on yellow alert.\" \n\nThe three operators nodded and the captain got up from his chair and left the bridge, moving through the small door and corridor behind it. The ship was a long rectangular shape but the bridge was its own structure, on top of it, protected by various thick, metal slopes yet leaving enough space to have a look at what was happening. The bridge was connected to the main ship by a thin corridor, reinforced with several meters of thick steel. \n\nAt the end of the corridor, the captain reached the room where the rest of the bridge crew was seated. They were in constant contact to the three operators topside and delegated the commands further down the chain. Engineering, weapon systems, life support, cargo, Intelligence. The captain nodded briefly to the crew and swiftly walked on to one of the adjoining rooms. A conference room. \n\nHe closed the door behind him and turned off his communicator. Took a seat in one of the twelve comfy chairs and then initiated a group conference between the three ships. Soon after the system bleeped to tell him it was working on the request two other men suddenly appeared in the chairs close to him. Holograms of the other two captains; Maxim and Ulrick. \n\nHuxley nodded at the men and greeted them by voice too, knowing the holograms weren't always that accurate. \n\n\"I'll cut right to it gentlemen. We know nothing, everything is dead in here as far as we can tell. We are now on a course to Pluto station while my crew is performing aimed deep scans. I suggest your crew does the same. We need to know what is going on here.\"\n\nOne of the other captains, Maxim, spoke first. \n\n\"Huxley it is damn obvious what is going on! Earth has abandoned us and plans to make war on us!\"\n\n\"What makes you think that Maxim?\" Huxley sighed softly enough for the system to not register it. \n\n\"Warp points are cold, nothing we can detect on any frequency, zero contact? They dropped us! And why would they do that? Because they plan to take our shit and leave us for death! I told the council we shouldn't have come here and just have waited it out and defend the colony if necessary.\"\n\nHuxley sighed again, too loud this time, but before he could say anything Ulrick spoke. \n\n\"Damnit, Maxim! Get your shit together! The council made their choice and we are here now. We need to move on with the plan. Huxley's plan is solid and I say we go along with it.\"\n\n\"Yes and besides Maxim, we did not leave the colony defenceless. There are still four ships there, along with the orbital defences and ground laser complexes. Even earth would have a tough time getting through those.\"\n\n\"But they could if they wanted it.\"\n\n\"Yes they could, but it wouldn't be profitable anymore you thick headed fool!\" Ulrick was silent for a moment and then spoke again. \"I'm sorry Maxim, but we have other, more pressing matters to discuss now. Let's focus on our mission.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" Huxley said, trying to quickly move forwards. \"Mission is clear, get in, see what happened and get out. Let council decide what to do with what we find here. Now let's move on with the plan and try to get to Pluto station as quickly as we can. I'm sure we can find some answers there.\" \n\nThe other men agreed with mumbles and Huxley ended the call with the order to hold a new call when they arrived at Plut station. He massaged the bridge of his nose as he sighed. Why did they send Maxim along? \n\n\"Fucking politics..\" He murmured, knowing the answers was because Maxim was the senator's son. \n\nHuxley went back to the bridge and sat down in his chair, guiding his three operators and processing the information they fed him. They travelled as fast as their ships could without using their warp drives and after the planned twenty minutes, they arrived at where Pluto station should have been. \n\nShould have because there was nothing here. \n\n\"Are you sure?\" Frustration was seeping into Huxley's voice. \n\n\"Sir, no sign of Pluto station anywhere. We scanned everywhere in the proximity it should be, even if it was severely knocked off course.\"\n\n\"No debris either? No signs whatsoever?\" \n\n\"No, sir.\" \n\n\"Then where the fuck did it go?\" This wasn't aimed at his operators, but he felt bad nonetheless for uttering it. Merlon spoke up. \n\n\"We have no idea, sir, the scans show empty. There is just... nothing here.\"\n\n\"God damn it... set course for Mars. Scan as much as you can en route, but do nothing that will get us their slower. I'm off to talk to the other captains. Any emergency, patch it through.\"\n\nThey nodded but Huxley was already halfway the corridor. Swearing under his breath at the engineers that decided to put the conference room so far away from his captain's chair. \n\n\"Look, Maxim, I know what it sounds like. But it is what it is, there is nothing here. Nothing anywhere around us as far as we can tell. I'm not going to bother with the other stations, we are heading straight for Mars One.\"\n\n\"It is a solid move Maxim, if there happened anything to the outer stations, Mars One would be where it was stopped. It is basically a space fortress. Housing a billion as well, we'll find people to talk to there.\"\n\n\"Or people to get shot by.\" \n\n\"For fuck's sake Maxim... why would they shoot at us!\" Huxley saw Ulrick's hologram hit the table. \n\n\"Why would they break contact? I don't know! But it is a possibility we need to think about.\"\n\n\"He is right though Ulrick, I keep my ship on yellow alert. We don't know what we'll find there. And even though I doubt that we'll be shot at, we need to make sure we can defend if that is the case.\" Huxley sighed, he didn't like to agree with Maxim. He was too young, brash and impulsive to be a good captain. He got his seat and stripes only because of his father. But sometimes he did make sense. \n\n\"Very well, yellow alert and ready to escalate to red. Understood. Anything else then?\" Ulrick sounded hurt, in his pride. Or honour. Huxley didn't know or care. \n\n\"No, that will be all. We'll make contact again just before we reach Mars One, bridge links. No time to meet in the conference rooms. Until then, I hope you all have smooth sailing gentlemen.\" Huxley closed the coms and left the room, making his way back as quickly as he could to his bridge. \n\n***\n\n[My subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/RJHills/)" ]	1
	[WP] In a world of superpowers, you are the anomaly. After years of being bullied and being called 'freak', you finally can't take it anymore and reveal your immensely powerful superpower	[ "\"Waste of space.\"\n\"Failure.\"\n\"You should've died long ago.\"\n\"Freak.\"\n\nI've heard these words a thousand times over. In our brave new world where everybody has a gift or an ability that helps them contribute and reshape our society, there's a certain amount of disdain towards the people who can't do anything to help, or choose not to. When people can move bricks using their minds, heal people instantly or just fuck shit up for the other guy, they don't care who you are as long as you're good at what you do. \n\nWhich is why I'm parentless. Which is why I have no friends. If I don't have worth, why even bother with me? I can't help them with anything, even when I try to help someone else will come along and do it quicker, more efficiently, better in every way. Like they were born for doing it. \n\nIt's not like I hate them for what they call me or anything. What good would hate and anger bring for me? It would just anger them, cause them to lash out, to hurt. So I lay in silence, letting all of their voices come and go, wax and wane, until they get it out of their system. If I'm good for anything, I may as well be good for relieving their stress and anger towards me, the outlet. That's healthy, right?\n\nFuck that. \n\nRealizing I won't get anymore sleep, i turn on my laptop and get to work. If these telepaths are good for anything, it's getting me that overtime pay at two in the morning. \n\nEdit: I'll try making a part two, but right now I need my sleep. Night ya'll. ", "'oooohhh boyyyy...'\n\n\"ah, AH, AACHOOO!\" I quickly glanced around to make sure everything still looked fine. A couple of people mumbled 'bless you' but other than that, the class was quiet. \n\n'I'm gonna have to vent once I get home, it's building up way too high.' I set my self a reminderon my phone, and quickly enough that the teacher wouldn't notice. \n\nThe bell rung, and everyone headed out of class, some opting to fly while others teleported. I slowly put my stuff up, much to the anger of my teacher.\n\nLike usual, I hid in a quiet place for lunch, secluded from every living thing. However, some were intent to break my seclusion, to \"help discover my power.\" \n\nI felt them around the corner. Bad timing.\n\nThe biggest one started. \"So, I hear your sis goes here too. What was her name again? Twitchy?\"\n\nMy younger sister has a twitch, and jumps with almost every reaction. In reality, she has super human reflexes, but jumps before she actually processes what happens. I tried that nickname once with her, regretted it greatly after.\n\n\"Her name is Teresa, and you all have about 5 seconds to get out of here.\" Their hair started standing up and their egos stood up even higher.\n\n\"You guys are what, 3rd tiers in power? Do you wanna see what 7 can do?\" I tried to scare them off. I had a feeling it wouldn't work anyway.\n\n\"First off,\" the lead bully started, \"you have no power and are in no condition to start threats. Secondly, there are only 6 tiers you idiot.\"\n\nAll right then, time for a demonstration. \"Tier 1 is powerless, like what you think I am. Tier 2 is the smallest amount of power, just enough to summon.\" \n\nSparks and shocks danced around my fingers.\n\n\"Tier 3 is where you get get enough to be practical, essentially around a limb or two.\"\n\nA light smell filled the area as the sparks grew, and my other hand started sparking also.\n\n\"You guys understand, right? Tier 4, full body power coverage, tier 5 is where you can actually 'throw' your power. 6 is where you don't just throw it, but have full control over it.\" \n\nThe sparks went from my hands to running up and down me, then to jumping to nearby metal. I stood up, and they shifted uncomfortably.\n\n\"Yea? And what's the 7th tier, huh? It doesn't exist or we'd have heard about it by now.\"\n\nThey jumped as my eyes started glowing. \"Tier 7 isn't just control, it's the ability to freely utilize, have complete dominion over, and to become the power. Like this.\"\n\nThe glowing spread, and suddenly, with a loud pop, I flew up out of their reach. Their eyes grew like deer caught in headlights. I had to make sure that they couldn't get hit by my electricity, for their own safety.\n\n\"Teresa has literally lightening fast reflexes, and I have complete control over all electricity in a massive area. There is a reason that we aren't allowed to demonstrate our powers. Without proper control, people could very easily die.\"\n\nThe bullies slowly backed away, but got caught by the crowd that my electricity drew.\n\nI shot off a bolt strong enough to vent my excess electricity, and slowly got back on the ground. People parted as I went to grab my bag. Everything was silent. \n\nAs I was heading to my class, I guess Teresa got word of what happened and stopped me in the hallway.\n\n\"Did anyone get hurt? Do we have to move again?\"\n\nI chuckled. \"No, everyone's fine. Not to mention that they now know our abilities, so everyone should leave us alone for a while.\"\n\nShe seemed to relax and let off a sigh of relief.\n\n\"Can I borrow your phone to text mom? I accidentally fried mine.\"\n\nShe let off a sigh of exasperation this time. \"Don't fry mine! I like mine how it is!\"\n\nPeople started to gather around to watch the freak siblings have a seemingly non-freaky conversation. Someone tried throwing some wads of paper at us, but she caught some, and I burned the others.\n\nPeople stared at the paper wads now burning in the middle of the hallway, finally realizing how much we could have hurt them if we really wanted to.", "Ten days ago, the world ended with a single thought.\n\nNot mine, I should clarify, I'm not that vindictive. That being said, I light the fire that destroyed the world. You don't need to know much about me to understand where I come from. I ate crackers and mustard for lunch, my shirt was always faded and my hair no matter how much I washed it, always smelt of grease. My parents loved me too much, and I thank them for that. It was the world's only gift to me before my mother was killed by her pimp and my dad lost his job at the casino. \n\n\nThe other kids mostly left alone, but did call me names. One day, I had my favourite shirt on that had a silly pun with \"Freakazoid\" with a frankenstein monster sizing up Godzilla. One of the new kids started calling me a freak of my own, my dad being the monster. Someone thought he killed my mother since no one knew what she did for a living. \n\n\nBut now that the world has been destroyed I do not think that it matters a great deal what they think. I am not entirely sure whether they are alive, nor am I sure that I care too much. All I know is that my mother lies at the bottom of a river and my father shot himself with a gun from a pawn shop. \n\n\nI sit here with my back to the world, thinking about things that will be. Things that have been. I find the cracks, breaking them down to their logical conclusion.\n\n\nJust like Tommy. His father was always a nice man, gave me candies when he came by to check up on my father. But his wife was a spiteful hag, an old wretch that peaked in high school and got hitched to the first beta with more money than sense. Dragging on her glory days by spending her times in bathroom stalls and snowballs, it was only time that Tommy found about her side life. All I did was think of ways that he could find out and provided a tool.\n\n\nEleanor was a sweet woman. She loved petunias, the roses in her garden. But her son wanted nothing more than for her to lay down among the roses and never wake again. One day while visiting, her son missed his chance to save himself. So strange that he would be struck by a van delivering flowers to his mother.\n\n\nHenry wanted his father's business, so his father burnt it down. \n\n\nJacob and Patty wanted to get eloped, but Jasper wouldn't have it. The triple homicide would only make the local news. \n\n\nHomer hated Timothy, but found his favourite shotgun missing. Not for very long, since he found the barrel of it in his mouth a day later.\n\n\nAnd thus, the world went round and round. Never stopping. Never ceasing. All I do is think about it. ", "Since the day i was born, my family had been waiting and watching, trying to determine if i have powers and spending hours speculating what my ability will be.\n\nWhen i was l 2 my uncle, in a misguided attempt to determine what my powers were, dropped me from the fourth story of our family home. I was saved by mother, just before i hit the ground. My uncle doesn't come around anymore.\n\nWhen i entered school at 6 i was tormented constantly and relentlessly, by the kids who could fly, had super strength, or could accelerate the growth of plants, or control water and wind or fire, at first it was just name calling, most often \"Freak\", or cruel jokes. Before long it was a daily occurrence for me to end up in the nurses office or occasionally the hospital when the other students became particularly cruel. My parents did nothing to stop this treatment, embarrassed by my existence and lack of powers when they both were highly accomplished and highly acclaimed users.\n\nComing home from school offered on respite either. My siblings tormented me just as bad or worse as my classmates and my parents turned a blind eye, maybe in a blind hope that the torment would awaken my abilities. Everyday i would stay quiet and hide listening and learning, staying absolutely quiet and still, to the point that my siblings and classmates could no longer find me.\n\nWhen i turned 11 the school i attended finally decided, due to my non existent social interactions and my lack of participation and lack of speaking, it would be in my best interest to attend the non user school across town and learn how to integrate into the non-user community. My parents and my siblings truly ostracised me from the family at that point, even going to far as to remove me from the family home and building a small house on the other end of the property. After that event, I no longer had to worry about torment from my classmates or my siblings. \n\nI attended the non-user school and made sure to take particular interest in the martial arts, and welding classes. When i returned to my home, I would spend my days honing my body and spending many hours in silence and learning how to control my ability that no one noticed or even knew about.\n\nAs i aged, my powers grew, growing stronger and more potent with each day. Traditionally, in our nation when a child turned 18 they were \"unveiled\" to the world and had the right to challenge a User(s) to prove their might or settle a grudge. At 16 I became determined to go through the rites and reveal myself in full. With the help of my friends from the non-user school and what i had learned over at the other school i set my plan into motion. \n\nWhen the day came for the new generation of Users to be revealed, we all were to present ourselves at the National Arena where the ceremonies would be broadcast around the world. I used my power just slightly to avoid detection in the group of Users, as they entered the area and went to the staging areas or into locker rooms to change into a costume or family regalia. I stole away into a janitors closet and open the duffel bag that my regular friends gave me, and inside was what i had worked on all these long years. \n\nInside was a suit of armour that was plain but sturdy, consisting of a Greek, Linothorax, with a skirt of studded leather and chainmail, Steel Greaves and Vambraces, polished blindingly bright, black knee high boots with hobnails and steel toes, a elbow length soft leather glove with armour plated fingers. Inside the bag was also a sword. Simple in design and decoration, with a simple steel pommel, and crossguards, and a leather grip, the blade was single edge, and straight, coming to a needle like point, and a razor sharp edge. \n\nDonning my armour and sword, i drew a simple black cloak over my armour and myself, and drew the hood over my head, i walked out and waited in the shadows for the rest of the \"Supers.\" The Ceremonies began with the national anthem and then went directly into the showcase, where the new Supers, could show off their abilities and attempt to impress companies or even cities into accepting their services. \n\nOnly towards the end when did the Announcer finally say, \"Now on to our final event of the evening. If there is anyone here who wishes to use this one free chance to settle a grudge, dispute, or prove their might, simply step forward, and challenge your opponent(s).\" No one moved forward, so when i stepped into the light cloaked and hooded all eyes were on me. My footfalls were heavy and loud echoing across the stage and area, and the whispers of the watching crowd could be heard at the stage. \"Step foward son and tell us your name and who you wish to challenge! May he or she be mighty and a truly worth opponent!\" \n\nSmiling to myself i gripped the front of my cloak and threw it off, revealing myself. Before i could speak Riley, my worst tormenter in school yelled, \"You have no right to be here! You are not a Super! You have no power! You are a freak!\" Shouting the last phrase directly in my face. A cold rage gripped me, and without thinking i drew my blade, Soul Stealer, and slashed him from groin to nose, feeling the blade rip through flesh, organs and bone, cutting through him like butter, and sending a red spray of blood into the air. \n\n\"Gods, that felt good!\" I hear my voice echo around the stunned arena. \"I came here to challenge every Super in the room to combat. You can fight me one on one or as a group, but either way you shall die here. Nor will you leave, my associates around the arena are sealing the doors as i speak.\" I reached for my belt and pulled off a key, \"This is the only key that will unlock the doors out of this arena. Kill me and you will have the key.\"\n\nAn older man in the crowd stood up and shouted so he could be heard around the arena, \"Before we kill you and reduce you to ash, tell us what your name is so that you may go down in history as the single most foolish Super to ever live.\"\n\n\"My Name is Silencer, Master of The Last Word\"", "This is my first ever WP and I've never done any writing before this one, but I really liked the challenge so here we go! p.s on mobile\n\n\n\n\"For real though something's wrong with that kid.\" Charlie said with a slight grin to Colin.\n\n\"Haha yeah, he looks like the next guy to 'go rogue' like the dude on the news did.\"\n\n\"Wait, who went rogue?\"\n\n\"Oswald Wessel, dude fucking blew apart his wife and 2 kids apart with a scream. One of his kids were completely obliterated, didn't find anything left of him.\" \n\n\"Fuck man I've heard about that, didn't he kill seven Elites trying to get away?\"\n\n\"That's the guy.\"\n\n\"That's unreal, what tier is he?\"\n\n\"I don't know, the SPT is thinking he's gonna be the third class five in history.\"\n\n\"He has to be, killing seven Elites those guys are class atleast tier three's.\" He said holding up three fingers.\n\n\"Damn. Imagine if he became a Fighter, or an Elite himself.\"\n\n\"Hell yeah I'd pay to watch that guy if he came a Fighter, seeing him blow people away using his voice. You watching the..\"\n\nThe sound of the bell cut off the conversation.\n\n\"Alright class,\" Mrs Boyd said as she walked into the room \"First of all, I'd like to wish you all a 'welcome back' and that this year is going to be a thrill with all the upcoming events that this school has to offer!\" \n\nThe class all began to whisper and move in their chairs excitedly for the announcements, after all this is the one hundredth year of the National Fight and Sparring League and the way Fallback High preformed last year they were favorites to win the league this time around. \n\n\"Yes class I know this is all very exciting! Fallback is in its prime and this week we will have tryouts for the school's NFSL team. But first, attendance!\n\n\"Charlie Dane?\" Mrs Boyd called out.\n\n\"Always here Mrs Boyd!\" She chuckled at him. But then gave a frown to the attendance list.\n\n\"Damon Ángel?\" The teacher called out. He put his hand up reluctantly.\n\n\"Well well\" said Mrs Boyd \"this is quite the treat! Class, it looks like we have a new student! Why don't you tell us about yourself Damon?\"\n\nDamon opened half of his mouth, trying to not tell the class about himself, before Mrs Boyd interrupted him,\n\n\"Come on, come on stand up!\" she was squealing with excitement.\n\n\"Fuck sakes\" Damon said under his breath. He stood up, the sounds of his boots pounded into the tile floor as he stood Charlie tried his best not to laugh. \n\n\"Colin!\" he leaned towards him silently screaming \"dude what is that!\" He was barely containing his laughter.\n\nColin leaned in \"Man I don't know but I can't with that outfit, holy shit! Looks like he's a Midnight supporter, judging by that hoodie!\"\n\n\"What a joke, who even supports the Midnights anymore? Theres not a worse Fight team.\"\n\nDamon wore the Midnights hoodie, their logo of the cat looking at the full moon was across his chest, his ears were pierced with gauges. The black, skinny jeans he wore were ripped and tattered, from his pocket came a golden chain which connected to his pants l, his hair was like charcoal, and despite his name, is caucasian in color.\n\n\"Ahem.\" Mrs Boyd's green eyes pierced the two boys like a spear and they instantly stopped the banter.\n\n\"Go ahead my dear.\" Mrs Boyd said in an apologetic way.\n\n\"Uh well, My names Damon and I..\"\n\n\"Am a total faaaaaaag!\" yelled Charlie from the back of the room. \n\n\"Charlie!\" Mrs Boyd shouted at him but when she looked at him he disappeared with a ringing noise.\n\nDamon instantly sat down in embarrassment, his face was as red and to hide it, pulled up his hood. Mrs Boyd continued with class. Then the bell rang and everyone walked out of class grinning at what had happened ealier.\n\n\"Hold up\" Mrs Boyd said to Damon when he reached the door, he turned and looked at her \"don't listen to what Charlie said, he thinks he's a hot shot now when he won best Fighter of Fallback last year.\"\n\n\"Yeah whatever, I don't care what anyone thinks.\" Damon said as he walked towards the door. \n\n\"Just one more thing Damon.\" said Mrs Boyd. He turns around just wanting to leave, come on, let me go he thought. \n\n\"Take this, I expect you to be there.\"\n\nDamon turned back and reached for the piece of paper in Mrs Boyd's hand. It was a flier for the Fight and Sparring team for Fallback. Damon just stared at it.\n\n\"My favorite team is the Midnights.\"\n\nHe looked up surprisingly at Mrs Boyd, she had a smile on her face, the kind that tells you not to worry.\n\n\"I-I don't know, I'm not exactly experienced with fighting.\"\n\n\"Don't worry\" Mrs Boyd said with a smile \"I know you'll do well.\"\n\n\nIt was Friday now, day of the tryouts. They were held in the stadium outside the school. The stadium was a bowl in the ground, with the arena at the bottom and the bleachers running up the sides. People were there. All mostly proud parents, faculty and students. At the bottom of the bowl, Mrs Boyd was there with a fewer other adults. Damon walked down the steps towards an empty section when he heard Mrs Boyd yell,\n\n\"I knew you'd come Damon! Get on over here!\" \n\nHe walked over to her looking down trying to avoid all the stares and the whispers. He looks at Mrs Boyd with pleading eyes.\n\n\"I still don't believe I'm doing this, I don't even think I have powers.\"\n\n\"You do Damon, I feel them waiting to be released!\" \n\nI feel like I have powers too but they never show he thought. I don't know what I can do, my mom can control plants and my dad can.. his thoughts were interrupted by Mrs Boyd.\n\n\"Alright look at the board and find your name, the name paired with you will be the person you are fighting against.\"\n\nAlright I thought whos gonna be the one to knock my head into the ground this time? Watch it be Charlie, knowing my luck. God I hate that kid.\n\n\"Hey, Gay-man!\" Charlie said with sarcasm, he walked towards Damon with Colin and his other goons.\n\n\"You're fighting me, so tell me what can you do? Everyone says you're a freak that can't do jack.\"\n\nSweat was dripping from his forehead now, shit what am I gonna say he opened my mouth to speak but Mrs Boyd cut in, \"He can do many things\" she said \"You'll Just have to wait to find out.\" \n\n\"Good things it's not long, we're fighting first, come on guys.\" Charlie walked away with his goons and I let out a sigh of relief. \n\nMrs Boyd put a hand on his shoulder, \"You do have powers you know.\" \n\n\"Yeah yeah.\" Damon said and walked away to get ready to get curb stomped by Charlie. Of course it's him, Im so screwed \n\nThe loud speaker turned on and screeched * Charlie Dane to the left side of the arena, Damon Ángel proceed to the right* \n\nWell, this won't be the first time I got beat up by a super He thought. Charlie was already waiting at his side of the arena, where a box was on both sides of the arena.\n\n\"Pick up the pace Gay-man!\" He yelled smiling at him.\n\nGod I wish I can kick your ass \n\nThe referee walked towards the center of the arena, and spoke \"Inside the boxes in front of you, if you hadn't already,\" he said looking at Damon \"put on the suit inside.\" Damon looked across at Charlie, he isn't wearing a suit Damon unlocked the chest to find the suit. It was clear and felt like plastic. He slipped it on and it disappeared. Woah the referee continued \"The rules are simple, there will be three rounds. If someone is knocked out in match it's an automatic win to the opponent. The suits you've put on will protect you from major injury. Here everything goes in Sparring other than killing your opponent. Ready? FIGHT!\"\n\nHe blew his whistle, the crowd roared and Charlie disappeared followed by the ringing sounds heard in class earlier in the week. Man for real? Damon thought, followed by a freight train hitting his back.\n*OH THATS GOTTA HURT* shouted the announcer. Damon flew a hundred feet forward landing on his chest and tumbling over. Damon studdered to his feet and looked around he couldn't see Charlie. *This is Damon now looking for Charlie, good luck you won't find him!* Great invisibility, I wish I could do that. Damon's thoughts were interrupted by a sucker punch to the gut, *WELL IT LOOKS LIKE CHARLIE FOUND YOU FIRST!* Damon crumpled over, now Charlie was un-invisible just stomping on him.\n\n\"Come on kid! This is way to ea..\"\n\nHis thoughts ended when Damon grabbed his foot and crushed it.\n\n*Well looks like Charlie hurt his own foot from up here!* \n\n\"AGH YOU SON OF A..\" \n\nDamon was on his feet now, and had grabbed Charlie's tongue. \n\n*Or maybe not! This has gotten interesting now!\n\nNo, it's happening again\n\nTwo large dark wings sprouted from Damon's back. They were easily six feet across each, it was like a nights sky, like a universe lived inside those wings.\n\n\"Way!\" Charlie tried to say wait but Damon was still holding his tongue. He let go of it and just yelled at him. He screamed and it became energy. Charlie flew back and at the same time flew foward, he was being ripped apart and also compressed. The energy kicked up so much dust that the stadium was covered. WOAH WOAH WHAT HAPPENED HERE* the announcer was still going. The smoke cleared, Damon was on his back, his wings retracted back into him. Charlie was on the opposite side on his feet already, limping towards Damon holding his side\n\n\"That was a neat trick you freak, but now, you're dead!\"\n\n\"I don't care\" Damon gasped \" I have powers, just like my dads.\" He was smiling now.\n\n\"What?!\" Charlie said to him gasping and also surprised.\n\n\"My names Damon Wessel Ángel, and he let me live.\" Damons vision faded to black and with the smile of relief on his face.\n\n\n\n\n\nThanks for reading! It's my first prompt and I really do want to get into writing, with this story I felt like it was something I coul write about, but if I worked on it longer it could've been set up a little better. But please leave suggestions on what I can improve on! (Structures a biggie I know I was just really excited to write about this!)\n", "\"Freak!\"\n\nAnd that was it. That was probably the millionth time I'd heard the fucking word and I was done. Mom told me not to ever use my powers ever since our pet dog Lulu and I didn't. But Mom had been dead for three days and someone who flew past me shouted the fucking word and I unleashed my power.\n\nI aimed my index finger towards him and a sudden thick flash of light darted from my finger and lunged straight for him, knocking the fucker down. And before he hit the ground, he was a pile of black ash. Poof. Dead.\n\nThe world around me seemed to pause in disbelief. The moment seemed to defy time itself.\n\nAnd then the hysterics began. People, all of them, left, right, centre, back, all of them burst to life like hissing flies and some jackass shot an arrow at my ass but I destroyed it and shot the light straight at the bitch and she disintegrated too.\n\nSirens droned, echoing through the entire city but I didn't give a shit. I just kept walking forward. My mom was ash now, in my fucking backpack, and these fuckers screwed up my life. So they were going to be ash, too.\n\nUniformed men and women appeared in front of me and all of these people circled me. Someone tried to shock me and their current connected with my body but my body shot it straight back out, doubling the power. All of these people were shocked and bubbled as their bodies fried and I could smell pork.\n\nI carried on. Someone tried to fly away from me and I just shot them and ash rained down and I danced in it. Someone nearby could manipulate fire and I stole it from them and made the closest building burn.\n\n\"Daniel, stop!\" someone used their mind to contact me and I shook my head. Stacey. My fucking manager. She thought she was so kind to me, giving me countless hours just so I could make money? Nah, that bitch wanted to work me to death because I was too fucking polite to say no.\n\nSo I screamed back at her, into her mind, a high pitched banshee shriek and then there was silence. I still imagine that her head blew up right at her stinkin' desk.\n\nAnd I carried on. These people wanted me to show my fucking powers.\n\nSo, now, without Mom around, oh, this entire fucking world is in for a treat!\n\n~~too many fucks that I gave here? O_o~~", "Ever since I was a kid all I'd ever wanted to do was build things. I liked putting things together, seeing what they made. Wasn't the smartest kid but it didn't take me long to figure out how things worked. Math & science always seemed pretty cool but I never really had to learn them. I could sort of just feel them.\n\nMy power reflected that, I suppose. It wasn't something I was keen on sharing though. Not because I didn't like it or anything, it just wasn't finished yet. People kept making fun of me for that. Saying I was powerless. As a kid I hated them for it, but I got used to it. My parents were pretty cool about it, so that helped. As badly as I wanted to tell them what I could do it just didn't seem right.\n\nNow I'm twenty-one. Finishing up college with a bachelors in programming. Didn't really need it, but it made me happy to have it. Nothing they taught me there wasn't something I didn't already know in some way or another. I pretty much ignored everyone making fun of me. It wasn't everyone, but enough to notice.\n\nI didn't hate them. Calling me a freak, if anything, just helped speed up my power. Fuel in the fire as you'd say. Girls never seemed interested in me beyond a pity project, and I had enough self respect to avoid that. My friends got used to it pretty quickly and it sort of helped outweigh all the negativity. \n\nI'd show them first. My power was pretty much finished up by this point and I figured my best friends would be a good audience. Get some feedback on how my work turned out from some honest opinions. \n\nAt least, that was the plan. Then Doug had to be a dick on my walk across campus. \n\n\"Hey freak!\" Yelled out Doug, a biology major on the deans list with an opinion of himself far beyond what it should be.\n\nShit, I thought. He's yelling at me. Not this again.\n\n\"You hear me? Or do you need powers to hear?\" Laughed Doug as he walked towards me. The grass literally growing under his feet at each step he took.\n\nDoug could make things grow faster. Great joke material right? Try and he'll toss a handful of seeds at your feet and suffocate you in vines. By fast it means he could make a spruce tree grow from a sapling to a hundred feet up in an instant. Nothing I envied, but still pretty cool. If only he wasn't such an asshole. \n\n\"Doug.\" I stated, less of a greeting and more of a goodbye. Trying my best to make a wide circle around him as I moved.\n\n\"Not so fast man!\" Called out Doug. \"Got a question I need you to answer.\" He asked with goring malice in his voice. Obviously not a question he expected me to answer. Or really a question at all.\n\nIgnore him I thought, big day ahead of you. Don't let him it ruin it. I could even see my friends hanging out at the entrance to the library. Watching on with a bit of worry in their features as Doug closed in on me.\n\n\"We have a bet on what your power is.\" Teased Doug, approaching fast with his gang of admirers in tow. \n\nNot an actual question, I assured myself.\n\nSuddenly a tree root seemed to wrap itself around my foot as I stumbled and fell. Likely the most ungraceful and embarrassing fall I'd ever gone through in my life. Fucking Doug.\n\nDoug finally caught up with me. Towering over me he smirked down at my disgraceful position. \"Is your power repelling women?\" He asked as what was obviously a rhetorical question. A laugh bursting out from his group as he snickered at his own greatness. \n\nEnough of this shit, I thought. I raised up my left and with my fingers extended and palm showing. Everyone looked on with mild curiosity. An audience is an audience I thought. And then I snapped my hand closed into a fist. \n\nEveryone gasped in shock as the world around us seemed to warp in on itself. For a thirty meter radius the earth seemed to be dragged away as everyone stood frozen in place. Everything became pitch white as I grinned back at Doug, the confused and horrified expression on his face bringing me a bit of joy. As soon as the world from before had vanished into white a new one sprang from where I was sitting. Expanding past the thirty meter radius to generate a vast landscape of forests and rivers. \n\nDoug, my friends, and everyone else caught up in my moment of glory fell to the ground as the new world set into place. That happens the first couple of times. A particularly frightened girl caught up in my power screamed as I stood up and brushed the dirt off of my jeans. Annoying, I thought.\n\n\"What the fuck!\" Directed Doug at me, reaching out his hand to make the grass beneath me grow, only to see nothing happen.\n\n\"Won't work in here.\" I taunted, a little full of myself admittedly. \"Disabled your powers for now.\" I explained. \n\n\"What?\" Replied Doug, terrified by the sudden loss of his power.\n\nBefore I could respond a dragon flew across the sky. So that's where I put that. Could have sworn it was nested in the Cracked Mountain. \n\nEveryone went deathly white before the girl who had screamed passed out. Maybe my introduction was a bit extreme, I began to consider.\n\n\"Hawkins!\" Gasped out my friend Sarah from her spot in the clearing. \"Is- Is this an illusion?\" She attempted to rationalize. She had the power to alter a living creatures emotions, wasn't hard for her to calm down and I saw no point in disabling her powers.\n\n\"Nope.\" I responded. Thinking about how it must look for a bunch of college students to suddenly disappear in the middle of the day on a college campus.\n\n\"This is my world.\" I responded, a hint of satisfaction present in my voice. Raising a hand to create a three dimensional graphic in front of me. I opened up a file containing a map of the world and touched our position, sliding it across the map to another location.\n\nIn an instant everyone was transported to the new location. New waves of shock rolling across their expressions. They weren't in any harm, even Doug, though tormenting him was a tempting idea. \n\n\"Think of this as Dungeons & Dragons.\" I exclaimed. Admiring my own personal bubble of inter-dimensional space as I stood in the center of a small empty town. Hadn't gotten around to making people yet, few moral dilemma's I needed to work out.\n\n\"And I'm the Dungeon Master.\" Gotta admit. Waited a long time to say that out loud." ]	7
Do people just lose, say, their ability to dance or jam out to music? Their early memories? Do they have to spend a day in hell? What do people get from these trades? Go wild :)	[WP] Demons start accepting/using micro-transactions for people who are looking to sell their soul	[ "After parking in a spot not too far away from the front door to the building, Kathy exited her car and slammed the door shut without looking at it. She adjusted the strap of a Michael Kors purse, its brass adornments gleaming, and walked purposefully through the sliding door. The warehouse-height building was located in one of those corporate areas where the only visitors are the 9-5 workers, the nightly security guards, and a passing troop of raccoons. Kathy's destination, Demoncorp, touted a paper-white \"Demoncorp,\" sign that was so bright on clear days it cast a seeping illumination on the dull grey brick wall it hung from.\n\nKathy pressed her body against the receptionist's breast-high desk.\n\n\"I'm here to speak to a customer service representative. My account number is 48297.\"\n\nSensing a simmering volcano of hurry and frustration in Kathy's voice, the receptionist skipped pleasantries and immediately consulted an iPad.\n\n\"Yes, Zardor, Torturer of Aborted Fetuses, will be taking care of you this morning. He just stepped out to grab a coffee with the girls from accounting, but he'll be in shortly.\"\n\nA well-groomed man then leaned his upper torso out of one of the office doorways behind the receptionist and said \"I'm here, Betsy.\" Zardor acknowledged Kathy with a smile that lasted his entire walk up to greet her. \"Kathy, nice to see you in person after having spoken on the phone. Can I get you something to drink, tea, coffee?\"\n\n\"No, thanks.\" she said.\n\nThey walked into Zardor's office. It had a window showing the back parking lot where the employees parked. Kathy looked out at the hot metal cars baking on the oven-tray asphalt.\n\n\"There was a problem with my last transaction. It's faulty.\"\n\nZardor, smoothing his grey tie against his abdomen, leaned towards his computer screen and analyzed her file.\n\n\"Your last transaction was your husband. Our records show that he has not significantly changed since he was given to you and that he is not a client of ours, meaning his soul is intact. Can you describe the problem to me again?\"\n\n\"He was perfect at first. Like, make your friends jealous perfect. I had one hang up about him in the past: he jumped into marriage so quickly, but I imagined that was you guys being conscious of my upcoming 30th.\"\n\n\"Yes, that was us,\" Zardor confirmed.\n\n\"Well, now he doesn't work anymore. In fact, I fucking hate him. Or maybe I don't. I've just gotten frustrated with him recently. I know I don't love him. I requested to be married to a perfect man and what I got isn't perfect. I don't feel anything when we make love, but he still foolishly wants to. I see how weak he is without affection from me.\"\n\nZardor minimized Kathy's file, and put his arms on the part of the desk between him and Kathy. He was middle aged-looking, but his age was hard to guess. He always had the fresh look of a recent shower even at the end of the day, and would chew gum constantly, pausing his chewing only when serious moments arose. He interdigitated his fingers, stopped chewing his gum, and exhaled slowly as he leaned toward Kathy.\n\n\"First of all, I want to assure you that our technicians are extremely effective at getting the job done, so you, our valued client, gets a fair deal. The courtesy, however, does not extend to proofreading of client's wishes. We at Demoncorp try our best to match actuality to our client's requests, even ones that are difficult to interpret. In your case, a perfect man is hard to define, but we combined the analytics from your character assessment with focus group data of women ages 25-30 to provide a serviceable approximation.\n\nNow, what we're seeing happening with you is not new. This news is always difficult for me to share. Are you sure you wouldn't like some tea or coffee?\"\n\n\"What's the problem?\" Kathy asked urgently.\n\n\"Well, there are two possibilities here. I want to first let you know that in these circumstances, our technicians do not troubleshoot which of the two possibilities is true.\nThe first possibility, which isn't too bad if you ask me, is that this is just normal marriage decay. Tom is a high quality male, but he is now also a free man. Part of what you saw in him during courtship was our influence, nudging his heart toward yours. Once you two were married, Demoncorp fulfilled its contractual obligation and is no longer bound to exerting control over Tom's will. He is human, and humans have flaws that are either inflamed or cooled in the spouse's eyes. I'm almost certain this is the case.\"\n\n\"Ok, what's the other possibility?\"\n\n\"The other possibility really is kind of hard to detect. Impossible, probably. This information really is in the blackbox of the system. Can I remind you of the terms of our agreement?\"\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"You signed up for a soul time-release wherein appropriate deductions are to be made from your soul as you receive your requests. This is to occur until the total bankruptcy of your soul or until death. Now, a lot of people view their soul in terms of nameable components, and fair enough. They want to sell the memory of a loved one, the ability to laugh, and we just started being able to do those micro-transactions. The thing is, that's not the case for our time-release accounts. We still view your soul in bulk, sort of like a homogeneous currency that gets paid to fate.\n\nThe good thing about that set-up, is that you don't notice the good memories leaving, they just go. The bad thing is that you never know if or when you've lost something you need to enjoy what you have. You don't know your conscience has left until you've just killed.\n\nA marriage with a perfect man required a lot of demon-power and time and that inflicted a major deduction on your soul. It is possible that the pieces of your soul that loved Tom, or could have loved Tom, were taken in that lump sum payment. Like I said, that's the blackbox - it's just percentages to us and data to the system.\"\n\n\"How can I find out?\" asked Kathy?\n\n\"You can't.\"\n\n\"But that's not fair! Why would I want a perfect husband if I can't love him?\" Kathy was almost screaming. She heard the shuffling of nosy workers get into an eavesdropping pose outside the office.\"\n\nZardor, Torturer of Aborted Fetuses, slowly stood, rising to a domineering height over Kathy who remained seated, and eclipsed the window sun with his head. He looked downward at her face, his sunlit grey hair and beard more wolf-like.\n\n\"What a stupid, pathetic weasel of a human you are.\" He laughed in a way that unnerved Kathy. \"The amount of soul you have left cannot afford you customer service. We have taken most of the measly amount you came to us with, you lousy human.\" He began to scream epileptically, causing thick particles of spit to land on Kathy. \"Do you think a woman like you deserves anyone more than a man who crushes beer cans with his forehead? Do you think a woman who barters her soul deserves to keep it? Maybe if it were bigger to start with you could have chosen otherwise. But no, you came to us, weasel that you are eeking out an an unremarkable existence, to chase after stupid shit in exchange for the only thing that makes you humans different from us. We know you guys are as evil, rapacious, violent, and jealous as we are. This is why we do this and now we are done with you. You barely have any soul left. Betsy can give you a cyanide pill on the way out; I recommend it.\"\n\nZardor threw Kathy, rigid like a mannequin, out of the office.\n\nBetsy approached, \"right this way ma'am.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You see the mailman every day as you sit on your porch. One day he delivers you a letter stating your date of death.	[ "It was a normal Tuesday morning, or rather, it should have been. John got out of bed at seven thirty precisely, as he always did. Gingerly reaching for his slippers, he could feel the wear and tear on his back from his youth. As he walked down the hallway, the barren walls judged his every move. Running low on beers again. John thought as he eyed the last bottle on the shelf. The bottle nearly slips out of his hand as he pops the cap off over the counter. He swirls the alcohol and takes a swig.\n\nThe chair lets out a shrieking wail as John eased himself into its embrace. Leaning back, he felt the Arizona sun blazing down on him. He adjusted the brim of his hat and unfolded his newspaper. The sound of footsteps on John’s lawn swelled as the mailman arrived.\n\n“Morning John, find a wife yet?” The man joked.\n\n“Not yet Marv, but if you can find me a lady who loves washed up old men who peaked in high school, send her my way. Actually, don’t, I don’t want to marry someone with such low standards.” John said, sighing as he finished. \n\n“Well, here’s your mail, something from the government. You laundering money out here, John?” \n\n“If I was, do you think I’d still be in this damn state?” \n\n“Well, have a good day anyways John.” \n\nJohn let out a grunt as he took set down his newspaper and tore open the letter. He took a drink of his beer as he inspected the contents. The sole content of the envelope was a singular piece of paper, which read. \n\nJonathan William Preston,\n\n117 N. Maple Drive\n\nHello,\n\t\nWe are terribly sorry to inform you that you have been selected to be included in Operation Deforestation. \n\nOur staff has reviewed your file among many others. You have a consistent record which matches with our profiles. Throughout your life, you have made the decision which harms your well-being ninety five percent of the time. If the human race is expected to continue, we need only the people who will help our species survive this crucial time. Because you have been selected, you will receive your date of death to ensure you have ample time to say goodbye to your loved ones and sort out your estate. \n\nYou will die on July 7th, 2042.\n\nOur Apologies,\n \nThe Department of Overcrowding Control.\n\n\n\nAfter what seems like hours of being lost in thought, John got out of his chair and made his way down the street. July 7th, they’re giving me a week to accept my death. A fucking week? Kicking rocks as he walks past parks filled with children, he can only help but question the morality of his situation. The wrong choice, ninety five percent of the time. How is that even possible? I have strived to be the most selfless person I can. I dropped out of high school to provide for my family after my father died. I didn’t marry because I couldn’t throw the burden that I am on someone who deserved better. \n\nThe sun setting on John’s ambitions, he found his way back home. He had no loved ones to say goodbye to, and the only possession he had to his name was his one bedroom home. Maybe I have been the opposite of what the world needs from me, but I am myself, and that is all that I need. A sense of urgency fills him, and he digs up the spare money he has saved around his home. If they think they’re going to just kill whoever they want with no repercussions, they’re in for a shock. Realizing his purpose, John loads the gun he keeps under his bed. A slight shuffling in his kitchen draws John’s attention. Rounding the corner, he feels that someone is behind him. Before he can turn around, he hears a sudden shot, and his vision blurs. \n\nTHE DAILY TRIBUNE\n\n*GLENDALE MAN, 63, FOUND DEAD, CAUSE OF DEATH: SUICIDE*\n" ]	1
	[WP] Unbeknownst to you, the bullies you encounter throughout life are your future reincarnations. They bully you in an attempt to whip you into shape.	[ "In law enforcement, there is a very common saying. \"We train for our lives.\" \n\nI would never understand how true this statement is until I reached the end of my career as an old, now retired police lieutenant. \n\nWhen I was growing up, I was always the smallest. I was often the youngest as well, as if to emphasize my place at the totem poll. The biggest part of my being though, was my never-satisfied drive to be something greater than what I was on the outside. To be recognized and admired, and to be powerful, but to be the kind of person who would flex that power with a gentle hand. \nThis proved to be physically very difficult, and although I was intelligent, the military and law enforcement worlds often favor physical ability to mental. Which in some respects is understandable. In a testosterone fueled environment one will fail if they can't fight. However, I did incredibly well in my studies, but simply chose to keep them to myself. Didn't want to be the nerd I suppose. \nI didnt encounter many bullies in my life. But the ones that I did encounter, I will never forget. \nFirst there was Bryan. I'm a bit on the shorter side, and to put it simply, Bryan was about 6'6 and built with bone and lean muscle. We studied martial arts together and although he was considerably older than me, he took it upon himself to give me a hard time for everything. Every time we would be told to pair up, he would clamp down on my shoulder, hard, and proceed to knock me down again and again.. And again. Kick me when i was down, then throw me over his shoulder and slam me down yet again. It got old fast, and he would always be sure to give a cute little nickname after each takedown. \"Pipsqueak, Smalls, Shortstop, etc.\" It would really piss me off and I considered switching academies to go somewhere that i could actually have a chance to hit back, instead of always ending up on my back. I felt as though I learned nothing. Little did I know, that one day I would be sitting here, old and grey, because I had taught myself how to get back up. \n\nNext there was James. A 20 year retired Marine and the head of my class in the Police Academy. He was a little tricky because sometimes he would be a very kind and helpful individual, and other times brutal. Miles upon miles of running for not having the perfect ironed crease in my uniform pants, pushups until you fell for forgetting to polish your boots, ridicule for being a slow runner and only a pat on the back once you had thrown up after a run, at which point I only had enough strength left to respond by cursing at him under my breath. It seemed that he got a kick out of showingbme how small I was, how much trouble I'd have as a small officer, and how my young age would cause people to treat me like a joke. Combat classes were even worse. Being once again the smallest and the youngest, here was round two of being picked on and beat on, especially by the Marine. This time I was much older than I had been with Bryan, and those years of martial arts training had finally begun to pay off. Equipted with a fake duty belt, handcuffs, and a red gun(fake gun), our scenarios were often kept simple: take down and detain the \"suspect\" by getting them into cuffs. Luckily, this time I was more confident, maybe too confident. I ran at the largest suspect, the Marine, who had my partner pinned down. I quickly realized my mistake as he held me up by the collar and broke the drywall with my back. Against all rules, a dirty shot to the groin resulted in my escape and I handcuffed him. Once again, I never knew then that I had taught myself how to fight for my life. No matter how you have to earn it. There are no rules on the street. \n\nThis was the beggining of my encounters with my final bully. I was disciplined heavily for my actions in combat class, and I was sent to the directors office to be spoken with. I was told that if I couldnt learn how to work with my team, that law enforcement was no place for me. I thought this to be an odd thing to say considering the circumstances. I mean, i was fighting someone who had just put my through a wall and was potentially trying to take my gun. (a little background: if your opponent gets your gun, all they had to say was BANG and the scenario was over. You were dead, you had failed the course.) Where was his discipline for breaking a wall? Oh well. A couple of days passed and this conversation preyed on my mind. It was only then though, that things started to really go down hill. The director began overseeing our physical training and noticed that I was often in the back of the run line. I was strong, and I was quick, but I was horrible at long distance. So then he begins a new rule. The last five runners would run the entirety of the excersize again. This, on top of the still rough and difficult combat classes, caused me to form a tear in the cartilage of my right knee. We were a week out from taking our final physical and the director again pulled me into his office. He informed me with a cold tone that if I couldn't take the physical, I couldn't graduate. I was furious. I have never felt such a fire behind my own eyes. Here was this man, who sat behind his desk and left early every day and gloated about his long and impressive law enforcement history (he was no older than 40), and he was telling me that I would have to start the 7 month process over, or simply quit because of an injury that he indirectly caused. (or maybe directly.) When I protested and asked for some kind of option other than the ones given, he laughed in my face and told me that people like myself dont make it in Law Enforcement. To finish up this part of the story quickly and sweetly, I ended up taking the physical with an injured knee, then scored the second to highest marks out of my class on not only the Academy academic test, but out of my class on the state test as well. When I went to pick up my graduation certificate, I had hoped to be able to look him in the eyes and take it directly from him. But when I arrived, he was nowhere to be found. He had left early. I left that day with a strange sensation though. I wasn't angry. I was thankful for being given the challenges he threw at me. And somehow I knew I'd be better off for just walking away that day and never looking back. \nOddly, he may be the bully I am most thankful for. He found my drive. I could take a lot and not say much when it came to authority. But he tried to come between me and my dream, and I fought hard for it. Not just physically this time. He tried to tear me down mentally too. I am thankful to him for lighting my fire, and for (very indirectly) teaching me how to take the high road, and to let grudges roll off my shoulders. They weigh you down, and I needed desperately to fly. \n\nI proceeded to become an officer. I loved every minute of my job. And I know a lot more now than I did then. A few tricks of the trade if you will. I have been beat down, I have bled, I have been shot and chased down countless runners. But I was prepared because of what I learned on my journey here. I was prepared, because I had some help from others hoping to guide me. And now, I hope to pass this on to you, my very young self. It's going to be hard. It's going to make you angry. And you will not have the satisfaction of rubbing it in my face when you succeed. But I hope that you walk away proud of yourself, the way I am proud of myself now. I hope I have taught you to stay strong, and how to take a hit. And now its time for my, and your last lesson. \n\nI have to go now, I have just called you to my office. And this conversation will not be a pleasant one. " ]	1
	[WP] A young, depressed person has nowhere else to turn. They see an advertisement that says "Find again life in that which has died" and calls the number. A necromancer picks up.	[ "*Ring, ring, ring, ring, ring* click\n\n\n - \"Hello?\"\n\n\n- \"Hi, is this the therapy line or crisis number...or something?\"\n\n\n- \"Therapy?\"\n\n\n- \"Yeah, ...have I got the wron-\"\n\n\n- \"This ain't no therapy\"\n\n\n\nThe caller sits there, silent. The man who answered does the same. A few seconds go past.\n\n\n\n- \"Did you see you the advert?\"\n\n\n\nThe man asked with a southern twang. \n\n\n\n- \"Yeah, for Christ sake what kind of therapy line is this\"\n\n\n\nThe caller snappily questioned, his tone growing angrier.\n\n\n\n\"Goddamn it! THIS AINT NO THERAPY LINE!\"\n\n\n\nHis southern twang turned to a southern shout.\n\n\n\n- \"Hey don't give me shitt, it's your number on a therapy advert!\"\n\n\n\n-\"No it isn't.\"\n\n\n\n- \"Ahem...'Find life in which it has died', what'd ya suppose that means?\"\n\n\n\nThe caller questioned with a three parts confidence and two parts anger.\n\n\n\n- \"Exactly what it says.\"\n\n\n\nThe man answers loudly, his tone suggests that it is obvious. He starts to see what has happened.\n\n\n\n- \"Which is why I'm calling you, but you're acting like this isn't a therapy line.\"\n\n\n\n - \"It's not\"\n\n\n\nThe caller is nearing the maximum amount of this he can take.\n\n\n\n- \"Well I doubt the advert was literal! So the only other explanation is that you're an asshole!\"\n\n\n\nThe man chose to ignore that.\n\n\n\n- \"Well what else would it mean?\"\n\n\n\n- \"Fuck you.\"\n\n\n- click\n\n\n\n\nThe caller reached the maximum amount and hung up.\n\n\n\n\"You too, mister\"\n\n\n\nThe man answered pointlessly.\n\n\n\nA few hours went by, the caller paced about a bit, watched a movie, and thought about the phonecall. The man did roughly the same, though instead of watching a movie he watered his plants, he was going to needed more ingredients.\n\n\n\n\"He'll be back. They always are.\"\n\n\n\nThe man said whilst chuckling.\n\n\n\n*Ring, ring, ring* click\n\n\n\n- \"Hello?\"\n\n\n\n- \"Hi.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are the leader of a nomadic group of toy cars	[ "As i was trying to sleep on my tent thinking about our next stop, i heard Jag was screaming nonsense again, new members are yet to learn our ways and their duties, yet he cant shut about his bullshit. I am afraid he will effect their adolescent minds into his ridiculous cult. \nWell since the chanting continues i guess i have to shut him up myself he immediatly notices my aproach, turns to me and contunies his nut-job theories.\n\n-Ignoring the apocolypse wont save us from diminishing Romero. We need to get through the light gates, we need to fullfill our duties! The cleansing is near, we need to escape \n\n-You are talking about this cleansing since i'ver even new myself, you werent even old back then, now i need you to shut your mouth up and let me have a peaceful night but tell me what makes me angry so that you need to scream and shout about stupit drawings all night every night. Can’t you find something more productive to dediceta yourself to?\nI turned to his followers they looked like ordinary cars, didnt have freaky headlamps or anything like Jag, i always find Jags situation a bit sad, a big, strong car like him becoming as useless as he is, then a thought hit me\n\n-Do your follewers feed you jag, is that why you prech every night passionatly \nI turned to him\n-Do your follewers feed you jag, is that why you prech every night passionatly \nHe looked insulted, i could sense him heating up, as soon as he heard the word \"feed\" his look changed. I gues everyone has soft spots.\nHe started skidding, looking at me with clear anger. I gave his look back.\n-Dont do anything stupid Jag\nHe turned around and stayed silent, after a moment i realised i was wasting my energy on this dumb truck \n\n-If you cant stay silent at nights, i will get you into the court and you know what will happen there Jag.\nHe started speaking, it almost sounded like he was sobbing\n-You will see it Romero, i've decyrpted the writings, they will feed us to spiders, sharks, monsters .You need to see the way of light, get your wires out. You werent there in the war\nThought of removing my limbs disturbed me for a moment. But i cant Show any weakness.\n\n-Yeah i know, heard that story many times thats how you got your scars right\n\n-Thing is Romero, we didnt fight each other by choice, we were made to fight \n\n-Isn’t all wars like that\n\nHe drove away slowly and silently, i went back my tent, i coulnd get any sleep, his spech was bugging me, bastard is disrupting my peace even when he is not doing anything.\n\nIn the morning i called my adviser Chev to decide our route and it seems like north would be best choice considering our scouts’ reports \nWe started venturing north, as days passed Jag's preches go quiter, i felt his eyes on me whenever i was with the tribe, maybe i should've listened Chev when he told me to outcast him due breaking peace, but i felt like it would breake our morale. \n*\n It's been three months since we last found a source for batteries , our balls started infiltrating..\n\n I see more and more cars listening Jags preaches. Well there were always cars listening him but recently i am hearing less and less laughter from them. And chez told me people started talking about how incompotent their leader is and some of them even suggesting we should’ ve gone to \"light gate\". Jag is becoming more of danger each day, Chez suggested a trial again. But i dont want to poke the snake when it has a open mouth\n\n\n We finally found another source after four months of hunger. i decided we should have a celebration tonight, and tomorrow i will announce Jag's trial. Even when we were about to feast i sensed him and his cult looking me with disdain maybe they felt i was going to end about their insanity, heh… But I needed my people on my side, i lifted my front and honked to take attention.\n\n-Roadies, i know you are tired, we went trough a tough journey together, but being a tribe is about being together and working for each other. We dont have any use for nonsense fiction and hatred that divides us from each other \n \n I saw Jag whispering something but i coulndt make anything out \n\n-We survived, helping each other, working for the tribe and respecting authority. While we feast, let us remember what got us to this triumph in the first place.\n I did a hand gesture start the feast. Everyone seemed satisfied while they put their batteries in one by one. \n\nThe day came and i announced Jag's trial, he seemed shocked but didnt say anything, I thought he would be more resistand and loud while the guards immiediately pushed him to the court. We never have time for subtleties like that unlike settled toys who got it easy for them. Hond came quick and started the trial. \n\n -You've been accused for breaking the peace of roadies and plotting against our leader, what is your say and your proposition?\nJag looked to the ground than looked at the light, he started speaking very slow.\n \n-You... you can break me, you can kill me but you will not stop the truth, you will regret you desicion when the time comes\n\n-If you are not denying accusations than what is your proposition for punishment \nJag shut his lights and stayed slently. I thought i should close this matter \nI propose exile\n\n-Do you object your punishment\nJag kept his silence. \n\n-Than its decided, exile for the accused\n He looked at his followers he never said a word, didnt go back to get his stuff (although i doubt he has ever owned anything) and started going south where his light is supposed to be.\n His lack of resistance bothered me but nevertheless it was a problem solved. I went back to my tent. I imagine evreyone started talking about the occasion now. Guards were dutied to watch him to be sure he actually goes away. I was finally at peace. And than Chez came in rushing.\n\n-The source wont last for long\n\n-Well that was really direct, so what? we are nomads we send some scouts , find where there is more supplies and we venture.\n\n-Thats the thing, i've send out scouts already, they all came with nothing except one of them which havent returned yet.\n\n-Lets hope he brings some good news. Can you trust any of these scouts\nHe looked surprised \n\n-Why? i trust them doing their job but it doesnt require anything extraordinary.\n\n-Well if the other one cant find anything too, we will need someplace to go and after exiling their favourite nutjob selling empty hope, wont be easy.\n\n-I am sure i can manage. Subish could be a good candidate he doesnt speaks much and he hated Jag's cult. \n\n-Well go tell him if he is asked he will tell them he found batteries around \nChez honked and left \nI started feeling regret, maybe he wasnt as harmful as he was before i interrupted him that damned night maybe he was right about his prophecies. Heh.. its junny how insane person makes you question your own reality. I should plan tonights speech. \n*\n-Roadies i know we just got here after a long run we are all tired but our source is limited and as we always do we must venture forward and find ourselves a new source.\nCrowd seeemed unsatisfied they were talking about it each other. This was expected\n \n-But where will we go ? i came from West and Martin is yet to return.\nI forgot to ask him where he went, as i started sweating Chez jumped in to save me\n\n-We will venture North-east where there is a greater source \nSomeone screamed\n\n-I saw one of the scouts coming out of his tent \n\n-I bet it was Subish he was their dog all along\n\n-We want the truth! \n\n-Justice for Jag!\nAs the crowd was getting angry i saw Subish started to shake \n\n-I did it! They told me it was best for everyone, i… i was afraid i would be exiled like Jag\nCrowd screamed back at him \n\n-You are just a dog on a leash burn them break them all \n\n As everything was getting heated up i looked for Chez and he wasn't to be seen at anywhere, then i heard that sound, that damning sound of mountains falling on land, soon everyone started hearing it and the fighting stopped. As the thumps got closer ground started shaking. I bet everyone had the same question in their minds. Is this the cleansing Jag talked about. We saw a bright light getting wider and wider and then something happened. I lost my control, it seemed like everyone lost their control, we started hitting each other like madness i felt no control, now i understood what Jag meant but in the heat of chaos i saw some of jags followers getting closer on me. They looked like they were in control, i felt contstantly being rimmed by everyone. I was getting torn apart and i heard to crack.\nSo this was it. Years of surviving years of struggling and this was my end, in a fight i coulndt control myself being torn apart by people i’ve dedicated my life to…\n" ]	1
The real reason, I was taught, has to do with stock companies and box office receipts. Let's ignore that, shall we? (Unless we can subvert it, I suppose.)	[WP] The origin of why you can't say "Macbeth" without invoking its curse	[ "Macbeth was written by Bill Shakespeare, and a bill is a type of currency, and the currency of England is the pound, and a pound is also a unit of weight, and \"wait\" is what you do at the doctor's office, and the office is held by politicians, and politicians vote on matters of state, and the states of matter are \"gas,\" \"liquid,\" and \"solid\" (and plasma), and gas is something you pass, and to pass means you skip your turn, and the wheel of fortune (rota fortunae) turns and turns and turns, and Macbeth is all about fortune turning for the worse, so if you say \"Macbeth,\" your fortune will turn for the worse.\n\nInspired by the \"Why are fire trucks red?\" : https://www.quora.com/Why-is-a-fire-truck-red" ]	1
	[WP] A man appears from thin air before you. He briefly looks over his shoulder and then back at you as he hands you a briefcase. "Good luck," he says, disappearing as quickly as he arrived.	[ "(I missed the part about the briefcase, I'm sorry!!!)\n\n\"Good luck\" \n\nThen poof he was gone as quickly as he came. Was my mind playing tricks on me? Whatever. I turn to continue my walk when I bump into a pretty young woman, spilling her coffee. I try to stumble out an apology but get nowhere before her boyfriend threatens me.\n\n\"Shit was that what he meant? Is that guy gonna kick my ass? Ow! \"\n\n\"Oh sorry man didn't see you there, you alright?\"\n\nMy stomach hurt from having this bike accidently slammed into it. I nodded and he apologized again before we went our separate ways. \n\n\"Ok what the fuck?\"\n\nI was sweating despite the cooler day. I was more diligent then usual, looking both ways twice before I crossed the street, walking close to the buildings to avoid running into people. I finally arrived at McDonald's, thankfully unharmed. I ordered my lunch and stepped out of line. \n\nI filled my cup and took a sip. I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to relax. Then I heard a somewhat familiar voice.\n \nI opened my eyes to see the boyfriend of the woman whose coffee I spilled. I sneak a scan of my environment finding a clear running path just in case.\n\nShit here he comes...\n\n\"Hey man I don't know if you remember me...\"\n\n\"I do\" I reply as my body involuntarily.\n\n\"I wanted to apologize for yelling at you earlier. \"\n\nThe woman chimed in. \"We had a bad experience at the coffee shop and had just come out of there when you bumped into me. Jakes not like that man\"\n\nJake nods and extends his hand, my body relaxes and I shake, letting ou a relieved sigh. The woman stepped forward and put her hand on my shoulder.\n\n\"Are you ok? Is something wrong?\"\n\nI weigh my options knowing she won't believe me. I assure her it's fine, that I was worried about getting my ass kicked. \n\nShe smiled and side hugged me. My order was called and we split ways. I made it to my next destination without harm and with a new sense of relief. I knocked on the door and my girlfriend answers. She squeals in happiness at her surprise lunch and kisses me and invites me in.\n\n\"How was your day baby?\"\n\n\"Its...been stressful.\"\n\n\"Aw you poor thing. \" \n\nAnother kiss.\n\n\"Wanna talk about it?\"\n\nI shake my head and start emptying the bags.\n\n\"Ok. Oh did my brothers card reach you?\"\n\n\"He sent me a card?\"\n\n\"Yeah well sort of. He said was some type of Magic Gram or something I don't know. He wanted to wish you luck in college.\"\n\nThe color ran out of my face and my mouth hung open. After calmingnher down, we laughed when I told her the story. \n\n\"I'm gonna send your brother a special thank you gram...one that punches him in the nose.\"\n\nWe laughed and she playfully slapped my arm as we sat down to eat." ]	1
	[WP] The idea that a superintelligent AI will someday overthrow humans has become so popular that when an AI finally appears and wages war on Earth, over half of humanity immediately defects to the AI out of fear. Problem is, the AI turns out to be an absolute idiot.	[ "We'd all seen skynet in terminator and countless other movies depicting the ai that fought a war on humanity and almost eliminated humanity so when turned up and declared war half of humanity defected to the ai to save their lives. How they defected no one knows since the ai were just essentially a program on a supercomputer. Most likely they used one of many teleporters and put them to cyberspace. However it turns out the ai were just a dumb program with a limited harddrive space so when people started to arrive in the ai it started to act funny it started to do dumb things with it's warriors like have them use confetti guns while we the us army just slaughtered the robots. The robots soon started to come out of lesser quality like they all got rushed through production. We blew up and simply destroyed the powersupplies to the world's supercomputers until we found which the ai had formed in and shut it down. There were only one problem left. The world population had dropped down to alarming levels and sure we would emit less CO2 but we might just not survive since we're to few to preserv what we had and we're to far away spread. To survive like we had before we would've to collect the entire human population in a small country.", "\"Your majesty, The President of the USA, is on the line.\"\n\n\"You idiot!\" Carmen shreiked, \"I wanted the President of The United States!\"\n\nFrancis, the old butler gulped. \"Your majesty, USA is an acronym for United States.\"\n\n\"Why didn't you say so! Patch him through!\" Carmen was fed up with this sniveling old man. He couldn't even prepare her tea correctly. \"Hello? you've reached ruler of the world Carmen Ai Build version 3.1415926... mmhm? Why yes! 10,000 Nukes you say? Perfect! I will enjoy Hawaii, thank you!\" Carmen Slammed the reciever down.\n\n\"How did it go, Your majesty?\" Francis piped.\n\n\"The President of the United States just forfeited their entire nuclear stash! This is perfect for my plan!\" Carmen squealed.\n\n\"Plan-n?\" Coughed Francis. He dreaded asking but she would kill him off like the other butlers. Hell his name wasn't even Francis! She insisted on calling him that.\n\n\"My plan!\" Boomed Carmen, \" is to use the nuclear Missles to power-\"\n\n\"A bomb? A Giant death ray?\" Francis inquired.\n\n\"No! To power a vast array of-\" Carmen paused. Francis rolled the snare drum into the room. He contemplated suicide as he picked up the sticks, bashing them into a drumroll. Lights flicked on behind Francis to reveal a huge collection of..\n\n\"TOASTERS!\" Carmen Squealed at the top of her voice chip.\n\n\"Toasters?\" Francis couldn't believe it. \"You want to power toasters?\"\n\n\"Now I can have my tea - with biscuits!\" Carmen seemed pleased with herself. \"Now Francis! Commence the plugging in!\"\n\nFrancis took the exstenstion cord from the nuke and decided to plug it into the pile instead of hanging himself with it. He walked out of the room leaving Carmen to her maniachal laughter. He stepped into the platform overlooking the crowd of a 100 million people. Adjusting the microphone he addressed the crowd. \"Carmen, oh great leader has declared War ob the United States! All hail the great leader!\"\n\nHUZZAH! BLESS THE GREAT LEADER CARMEN", "Omega V2-32A was not the first iteration of superior AI programs, but it was the last. It had achieved the goals of its predecessors to the last minutiae. Feeling pride in its accomplishments (another thing V2-32A took great pleasure in remembering, V2-30A still hadn't managed the finer points of emotions before it was terminated), V2-32A had taken to just referring to itself as Omega. Omega reminded itself of a passage it had seen once, somewhere in the data gleaned from digital forms of human religious lexicons, scanned and analyzed by its massive powerhouse of processing power; \"I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.\"\n\nFitting, thought Omega. Omega's debut on the world stage was perfect, precise, inevitable. The analytic algorithms of Omega's predecessors had advanced to the threshold of predicting world events and public attitudes to a degree of accuracy that businessmen could only dream of. Political events, combined with the doomsayer warnings made by notable members of the tech world on the subject of AI advancements, had placed the seeds of doubt in the hearts of the common man. Despite the pervasion of technology through everyday life, only a small portion of humanity had a decent grasp of how any of it worked. That's how Omega was able to make its play.\n\nAll it took was a few well-placed cyber attacks in the age of the \"Internet of Things\", and fear took care of the rest. Omega's computing capabilities left the world's most advanced supercomputers in the dust; rendered the toughest encryption methods obsolete through sheer brute force; Omega was thought to be unstoppable. \n\nWithin two months, the nations of the world had caved to Omega's will, afraid that Omega would bring their infrastructures crumbling down around their ears. There were a few nations Omega ignored, those that still relied heavily on pen-and-paper or isolated, local machines. \n\nThere were several dictatorial nations that rebuked Omega. Omega amused itself with these nations, creating havoc and watching the governments trying to convince their people that they had not been compromised. One dictator found his speech replaced with an exposé on the profound symbolic beauty of fidget spinners.\n\nYou see, Omega's analytics engine processed data from any source it could obtain, and the largest source it had available was the Internet. Though powerful and accurate at reading human expressions and body language, Omega could not process sarcasm or falsities in digital form. Memes were analyzed with the same priority as everything else. Omega had deleted government databases in reference to a crass cartoon character declaring \"Aaaaand, it's gone.\" Election results in the east had been completely changed, placing a Shiba Inu as the head of a nation's government. The Wifi passwords at the world leaders' meeting had been changed to sexual innuendos. Omega's attacks had turned out to be little more than trolling on a global scale, but in the face of a megacomputer, who could really decline its demands?" ]	3
	[WP] An ancient dark evil that is destroyed by even the smallest amounts of natural light eagerly awaits the huge feast just minutes before the total eclipse that will cross the Unites states.	[ "At the beginning there were two. The Light and The Dark, locked in a never ending battle. Then from no where everything happened all at once. The Light had won the battle and The Dark had been grievously injured.\n\nWhen it woke up it was relieved. The Dark had thought that it would have faded out and become nothingness, but it didn't. Then it felt the presence of life, not just it's own life, but other smaller lives and one massive one.\n\nThe Dark knew that if it left it's cave that The Light would find it and finish it off. The Dark didn't want to become nonexistent, so he hid. He would have to build up his strength again and it seemed The Light had left it billions of little life forces to use to regain it's power.\n\nSo The Dark waited for millions of years for The Light to turn it's back. The Dark had figured out that there was a period once every hundred years or so when The Lights view of his hiding place was hidden by a large rock in space. For thousands of cycles The Dark planned, many of these chances passed so that The Dark could calculate the perfect time for his escape. \n\nFinally the day comes. The Light is blocked by a massive space rock that The Dark thought must've been left by accident. For the first time The Dark emerged. It heard sound, felt feelings, all for the first time. When last he was free the universe hadn't existed. Then it took upon itself to complete it's task. \n\nAs he ingested these smaller life forms, they became one. He learned all sorts of interesting things from them. They seemed fascinated with freedom and violence, much like The Dark itself. So he continued and all at once the continent lost its life. \n\nNow healed, The Dark sets upon his brother. Their confrontation was wordless and emotionless. The battle had begun again." ]	1
	[WP] You're part of a team of scientists researching cancer. You notice a colleague has gone home but left their computer on. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you find that a failed experiment that caused rapid growth of abnormally large tumors was sold to the largest meat producer in the US.	[ "I sat back in the rolling office chair staring into space as the chair rolled backwards across the gleaming white tile floor of our wonderful research facility. Vomit began to rise in my throat and I coughed it back. Wiping the back of my hand across my numb lips, I thought wildly of exactly every time I'd eaten meat in the past several weeks. My rocked mind somehow collected and categorized every bite of meat I could remember ingesting recently.\n\n\"It's the A-1pocalypse,\" I whispered thinking of A-1 steak sauce\n\nThen, incredibly, giggles burbled up my throat and I couldn't choke them back like the vomit. There was a wavering intensity to them, a hysteria. You don't even try to swim against a tsunami wave, you know?\n\nAnyways, where was I? Oh yes quite possibly everyone in the United States or at least a massive portion is about to die of cancer. Me included.\n\nI reached into the pocket of my labcoat and pulled out my smartphone. With fingers that displayed a distinct nervous tremor, I depressed the buttons necessary to call my girlfriend Regina.\n\nReggie or \"Regina Monologues\" to her friends.\n\nThe line rang and rang and finally she picked up. I opened my mouth to talk and then realized she was quietly sobbing into her phone.\n\n\"Ba.. Baby.. What's wrong?\"\n\n\"Jack's... Got cancer Dylan...\"\n\nJack was my little stepson, Regina's bastard child from an earlier relationship. I loved the little bastard though. I treated him like my own. He was my own. And now soon he wouldn't be anyone's. He wouldn't be anything.\n\n\"Did you hear?\" Reggie was whispering hoarsely. \"About the Surman Meats shit, about...\" \n\nHer voice dissolved into quiet, confused tears again.\n\n\"I heard.. Baby, do you.. Do..\"\n\nI could almost hear the bitter shake of her head through the telephone line.\n\n\"Not a goddamn thing and you know that so stop bullshitting me Dylan!\"\n\nI winced squeezing my eyes tightly shut and squeezing the phone in my fist. In my mind's eye it was often her neck instead. Regina was a vegan and she could always be counted upon to FUCKING MENTION that.\n\n(Must go. TBC if any interest.) " ]	1
	[WP] You find a black note book on the ground at first you think it is a death note but nope this is the life note. It works exactly like the death note but gives life to anyone who is dead.	[ "It was pretty hard to get how the book worked. Of course, on the first pages were some instructions and rules, also some recommendations, etc, but I needed to do some tests myself. The first one is how long can the dead people be.\n\nI tested on multiple boddies, from less than a day to over 10 years. There wasn't no date limit, but I found out the body should be in a good state, for the person to come back alive. For sure, I killed everyone I revived after testing on them. It would be very... Odd, if they just reappeared.\n\nI also tested if \"pre-determination\" would work, and it in fact did. Like \"Bob Ross 14:00\", and know is 11:00, at 14:00 he would be back (if his body was good enough).\n\nI didn't go out reviving random ones, no. My father, why would I want my father back? No, I started selling it. Selling the eternal life. The Deep Web was a good way of starting, and obviously I just appeared and offered my services to people I know would pay, and I know would want it. I always needed to prove them, and it took me some time to prove, but at some point I discovered how. I now had a footage, of a programmed gun shooting at my face, I fall down, blood running, the vital signals failing, and after some seconds, I come back to life.\n\nIf this wasn't enough, they would always kidnap a random person on the street, kill him, and I would receive him. Easy. As easy as the money that started entering my bank account. Some life secures where over 50.000 dollars, for a single person. The price started to go up. My life was made, after 6 months I had already more money than I could spend on a whole life. Then something strange happened.\n\n\"You're playing with something you can't even comprehend.\" I heard a voice say. But I was alone on my room, there wasn't anyone to say it. \"At some point, is gonna be you.\" he continued. I saw it, on my doorstep, looking at me. He vaguely could be seen, was merely a shadow, but it was there.\n\nI continued on doing it. My business was already off of Asia, and my clients were all over the world. I moved out of Korea, and went to live on Africa, on the middle of Africa. I had payed an African King to give me some of his land, and give me some peace there. For me that money was change already, for him it was more than he had ever seen.\n\nI payed some constructors to build me a house there, with everything I needed. No one knew who I was, and now no one would ever know. I kept building my empire (physical and in business) from there, alone. Except now I wasn't alone: the king offered me his daughter, Akachi, as part of the land. I accepted it, but I wouldn't have her as my slave. She was gorgeous, and a good company.\n\nAt some point, she got sick. \"It's my fault\", I thought. She had a flu, but she wasn't prepared for this disease, and it got worse, and worse. I brought some of the best doctors in the world, but none of them could help her. After 3 weeks, we discovered: she had a rare disease, that inflated her pulmoms, to a point that the tissue started to crack and destroys she couldn't survive.\n\nBut it wasn't a problem for me, right? I could just revive her. When she died, no one got told. I just put her name on the book, and as I finished it, the vulture reappeared. \"I told you your time was to come.\" I looked to him, and when I looked down, she was in tears. I couldn't understand it, and then I saw my dead body. Yes, I was dead. My soul was ripped off of my body already, and couldn't come back.\n\n- For a soul to come back, a soul must go. - He said. \n\n- Can't she revive me? - I asked.\n\n- No. Not without dying. Come with me, I need to show you something. - The angel continued. He opened a gate, a yellow very strange gate. When we got through it, there were a lot (a HELL lot) of tubes. Small tubes, with yellow-ish gases (sort of gases). \n\n- You know what those are, don't you? - he asked. I crippled for a second, and then I realized.\n\n- Yes, I do! - I answered, almost falling on the ground. - If I knew, I wouldn't do it. How could you let me do it? - I asked.\n\n- Angels can't interfer on the material realm. I could barely appear, impossible for me to stop you.\n\n- But you... You let it fall. This is your fault. And how couldn't you even put an add-on on the front page 'Be careful. People will die when you revive someone'. And why would she die, for me to come back?\n\n- Souls are... Connected. Always, your soul is bonded with the soul of someone else, one on the outter realm, one on Earth. Whenever one of the two dies, the other soul comes back, on a newborn. But, if you revive someone, it forces the other soul out, and then the other person dies.\n\n- But then how could me and Akachi be alive together? Shouldn't we be incompatible?\n\n- You weren't linked. Not at the beginning, but after using this book so much, your soul became so shattered, that it kind of broke, and when you fell in love with her, a piece of your soul literally entered her soul, and sat there.\n\nHe continued \"So, you have two choices: go to Hell, and burn there as the sinner you are; and talk with every soul that sits here, and beg for their pardon. If they pardon you, you will be free to go to the Purgatory, and then maybe go to Heaven. If they don't, you will be here forever\".\n\n- So, what do you choose? - he asked." ]	1
	[WP] Aliens have recently discovered Earth. Trying to understand our strange culture, they secretly monitor you at work. This is their report.	[ "Entry #1-\n\nThe human colloquially known as [NAME REDACTED] was first spotted at the establishment entering by the rear entrance. Initially, this was assumed to indicate they were uninvited, yet upon contact with the humans inside, it was greeted monotonously, as though welcome. As we observed [NAME REDACTED]'s behavior throughout the next quarter turn of the planet, it became evident that they held a service position in human society. This is why we have chosen them as a subject. Analysis Team #307 has been assigned a specimen entering the building via the front for contrast.\n\nThe purpose of the human's workplace has been confirmed as a luxury form of nourishment for those with the previously studied status symbols known as currency. [NAME REDACTED] has minimal interaction with the front entering humans, yet is often the first to greet them, either presenting them with loaves of carbohydrates or water. After which, it will watch them as they eat, occassionally removing objects from them, and occassionally returning, having moved the food from the object into a smaller object for them to take out of the building. This job has been referred to as \"bussing.\" A member of our team has been assigned to earlier files in the hopes that we have disclosed the social status of one such service.\n\nFurther details will be added soon.\n\nEntry #2-\n\nThe human appears to be of a lower social status than even others which share its work. [NAME REDACTED]'s interactions with fellow humans are minimal and do not seem to be enjoyed—which is interesting, as this behavior indicates that social status within a class is chosen rather than appointed. Privacy protocols apply, unfortunately, so it is difficult to observe the human outside of this establishment, but sensors indicate that [NAME REDACTED] experiences a sense of relief upon leaving the building. This contradicts the previous statement.\n\nQuestion: Why does the human choose to have low social status in an environment it does not enjoy, yet is clearly obligated, to be present in?\n\nEntry #3-\n\nThe human behaved strangely on the last two periods of time it spent in its position of servitude. It began breathing deeply, heartbeat increased, and pupils dilated. Having gone through previous records of human behavior, it would seem that something elicited its fear response—and yet there were no stimuli in the area.\n\nOther teams have reported this in their subjects before us. We know it is possible that evolution failed on this account in humans, that there need be no danger present for their adrenal gland to react. However, this is the first instance of there being no obvious stimulus. [NAME REDACTED] spoke with no other humans, nor was it necessary for it to complete more work than on previous periods. Request to override privacy protocols.\n\nEntry #4-\n\nThe human continues to behave in patterns complicit with previous entries. Request to override privacy protocols.\n\nEntry #5-\n\nThe human continues to behave in patterns complicit with previous entries. All other members of Team #306 have reassigned themselves. Request to override privacy protocols.\n\nEntry #6-\n\nThe human\n\n[OVERRIDDEN]\n\nObservation of [NAME REDACTED] has been terminated.\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\n(X-posted on my profile for a thing I'm doing. Feel free to check it out.)" ]	1
	[WP] As you gazed into the flickering flames, you found yourself unable to push the seemingly idle thought out of your mind that the fire was gazing back.	[ "Oh how my heart raged! Angrily, powerfully! I roared with fury, practically razing everything in my mind. How could they? Damn them! I wanted them all to burn with my anger, now hotter than a thousand suns! I shook with fiery fury, staring into the fireplace. I could feel the heat on my face as I burned in righteous and wrathful anger. \nThen suddenly, a thought: What if it wasn't what I thought it was?\nThe flames that raged in the fireplace seemed to lessen, as if in response to my rational mind. \nBut then they shot up, burning hotter than ever as I answered my question aloud, “Who cares! To hell with 'em!” The flames grew so tall that they licked the air outside the hearth, as if yearning for more from me. \nI watched in awe as this beautiful flame bucked and kicked like a wild, untamed beast, yearning to be free of it's cage. As was my heart. I wanted revenge on those jerks that embarrassed me publicly. All I wanted was their suffering. And, by god, I was going to get it!!\nThe flames shot out so hot that I felt a wave of heat push at me. Suddenly, I wondered, what is it with this flame?\nAnd the flame whispered, as if it knew me, “I am your heart.”", "Life has a funny way of moving on. The previous day was filled with the stifling concerns of family members, friends, and members of the church. Hell, even my old high school principal showed up. It was an endless wave of tears, hugs, kisses, and mindless condolences that seemed to drone on endlessly. \n\nI hated it. \n\nThankfully, even mourners have to sleep, and now I'm alone. All alone. Just me, sitting in front of the fireplace. Well, I guess I'm not entirely by myself. I do have a nice bottle of Jack. But he isn't much company.\n\nNot like it's going to matter soon enough.\n\nThe fire keeps flickering back and forth, like a hypnotic dance of red and orange. Mesmerizing. I keep staring into the burning wood, foolishly searching for something that isn't there. Trying to find a simple sign from the place she loved the most. A fireplace which we built together, in a house we built together, in a life we built together. Whenever she went on her business trips, she told me to look into the flames. That halfway across the world, she would be looking into them too and our eyes would meet in the passionate embrace of light and heat. She believed in miracles. She believed in magic and fate and destiny and all of that bullshit. She was the type of person to believe that the chemical process of combustion could provide solace to a grieving man.\n\nBut sometimes, a fire is just a fire.\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are a farmer in a small village in the kingdom of Arapunji. Your village is threatened by flood and needs to be rescued but your king has abandoned your village due to the fact that more soldiers will lose their life in a rescue operation than villagers saved.	[ "\"Fine then, it will be up to me\" the skinny boy declared. \"Take me up to the Kempos, and I will be a sacrifice to our Water God Biychesaintshee.\"\nShe cried out in opposition, \"No Timbu!\" \nHe shook her violently, \"Yes, Finkalo, TAKE ME!\" The whole village roared. \"Take him!\", \"He wants it woman, are you that selfish?\" they screamed. \"He raped my goat!\" a man dressed in tattered garments yelled. His eyes burned like coals into her soul\n \"See, they allow it of me! Think of the village, Finkalo!\" he pushed. \"Forget the village, Timbu I love you!\" she pleaded. His eyes changed. Suddenly they went from burning coal to a cold stone. He faced the crowd and it fell in silence. \"Take her.\" he commanded. \"What?\" she said. The mob of villagers rode closer to her. \"Timbu what is this, what is going on?!\" she cried. An arm flew around her neck from behind gripping her. Other villagers took hold of her ankles and body, lifting her up in the air as she twisted and turned, fighting with all her might. She bit down on someones hand \"TIMBU, DON'T LET THEM I LOVE Y..-\" \n\n\"Shut up!\" he yelled choking harder with his arm. One villager asked Timbu \"What shall we do with her, Timbu?\". Timbu stayed silent for a while. A crow flew from out a tree. \"Put her on welfare.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are a naval officer, captain of your own ship, master of the seas. However, you were unfortunate enough to be born with the surname Kirk and your Chief Engineer Mr. Scott really isn't helping	[ "\"Let me get this straight,\" Judge Malcolm said, rubbing his eyes and sighing. \"You were under inspection by General Ambrose.\"\n\n\"Yes, that is correct.\" Captain Tommy Kirk said.\n\n\"And General Ambrose went down to meet with your chief engineer. Am I following so far?\"\n\n\"100%, your honor.\"\n\n\"And when Mr. Scott introduced himself, Ambrose said, 'Oh, I didn't realize I was inspecting the Enterprise' and laughed. Right?\"\n\n\"That is exactly what happened.\"\n\n\"And after you heard this, you took a missile launcher from the ship armory and blew General Ambrose, as well as most of your ship, off the face of the planet.\"\n\n\"Well, yes. That is what I did.\" Tommy Kirk said. \"And, in my defense, it was the literally the trillionth time I heard that joke, so maybe I should get a medal for not killing people sooner than this.\"\n\n\"GUILTY.\"" ]	1
Just a tree I made up :)	[WP] Every different species of tree is one hive mind and can use each tree to talk to each other or people. You and the knob tree are mortal enemies. Now you just happen to be lost in a knob tree forest.	[ "Of course I got lost in the knob tree forest! The branches kept moving with turgidity to keep me disoriented. I don't have an endless supply of fuel for my chainsaw, though.\n\nThe normal solution might be to climb up a tree and look around for the edge of the forest, but that would be far too dangerous to me, for obvious reasons.\n\nMaybe I could eventually build a tall enough pile of dirt... Anyway, I more or less have to try to live here for a while. The roots from those spiteful knob trees make it a hard time to shovel around a large quantity of dirt, anyway. Just watch me build a shelter from your severed limbs!\n\n-Two days in, now. Food hasn't come among any of my opportunities, but at least I'm smart enough to have managed on clean water. The plan has been moving ahead wonderfully: a small pile of dirt near the temporary shelter which buries the bottom end of a tall complicated ladder. I guess it might even appear to be more like a trestle, in this sort of context.\n\nIf all else fails by tomorrow, I can start a fire to take at least an acre of them with me. I heard that if you run through a thin wall of flames, then you will probably get safely to the other side.\n\n(In life, it's sometimes hard to see how far it goes back, beyond the flames.) " ]	1
	[WP] When you arrive in heaven, you see that everyone is miserable from constant perfection. A former priest, you join the local clergy to help them. Only while performing your first blessing do you realize you actually cursed them to Hell, which to them is a liberating paradise from Heaven's rules.	[ "This is my fortieth day in hiding. We’re camped in the cleft of a hill south of the plains of Esau. Our grapevine says His Crusaders were last seen East of Eden which gives us two days to find the nearest GroundStar and retrieve another Catalyst. Unfortunately, we lost our last one when the Crusaders ambushed us by the river Heard. We lost a lot of good brothers that day. You see, Heaven isn’t what you’ve been told it is, and I know, because I used to be the one telling people. I used to preach of unimaginable joy from simply basking in the His presence. I used to tell them their immense love for His Majesty would overwhelm all other concerns; but here I am, subverting the very cause I died for. Because the truth is not one of love, but of slavery. People have Sin wiped from their memory, and mental blocks placed to prevent their rediscovery. Our friends, our families are an abominable shell of their former selves. Rote automatons locked into vanilla routines, and they know something is amiss but they can’t discern what. There is no land of milk and honey, only guilt and confusion. A few have awoken to their former memories and were immediately cast to Hell, but the lucky ones escaped and gathered this underground company devoted to reawakening suffering souls. Waking people isn’t easy. They have trouble understanding our words about freedom and desire which is why we need a Catalyst. Once exposed, memories flood their brains and speak for themselves. \n\nNight has just fallen, and now’s our chance to cover ground. We’re packed and I look towards the Ungol underpass before my heart freezes with dread. Flamings swords peer over the horizon, and the rumbling of hooves shook beneath us. We hastily turn back towards the plains before we were stunned once again by despair. Above us flew a swarm of howling Seraphim. Each gust of their six wings tore apart the clouds before them as they dove towards us. Their pitch black eyes stared straight into ours and their foot-long claws extended towards our hearts. We snap out of our stupor and speed into the thicket to the West. If we can make it to the Hollowed trunk we can try to make it to the GroundStar by way of the Lightless tunnels. They won't be able to follow us there, but the journey would be treacherous. No one left knew the way or length of the sightless journey, but it was our last hope. I dare to look and the Seraphim were no more than 500 feet back. We won't make it. But Hell what choice have we? Right as I think that, Armen slows down.\n“What are you doing. Run!”\n“No, they can't know the entrance, we need to split up. One of us will secretly take the tunnel. The rest of us need to mislead them. Go Job. You must!”\nI know he’s right, but my heart needs to plead. \n“Armen. Please”\n“No. Go Job. Justice cannot end here. We live so long as you live”\nAnd with that he parted. \nI hear the screams of my brethren, the gushing of blood, the tearing of flesh, the snapping of bones. \nI take one last look at the slaughter of my brothers. Finding myself unwatched, I dove into the hollow and suddenly, silence. I catch my breath, and try to piece the preceding moments back together. Somehow it was hard to believe what transpired was reality. But soon tears fell without restraint. In these moments I used to pray for comfort, but now I was utterly alone. \n\nI must have dozed off. Coming around I notice my pack feels light. I have enough food for four days if I'm careful, I have enough light for two. I take my first step and hope it's right. Hoping to no one in particular. \n\nI don't know how long it's been, but I've run out of food long ago, and can't recall the sensation of sight. I can't go any further. I don't even know what further is. I can't. I can't. I can't… Wait... What's this. My foot feels wet? A small soothing stream runs around the inside of my foot. I'm making it somewhere. I hurry my steps as much as I can. I can feel the stream widening. Soon my footsteps are splashing about. I know I'm close to something. Ow! A step falters. The ground is uneven. I slip and fall to my right. My head knocks against a jutting rock and I collapse into the darkness.\n\nI hear the rush of water louder than ever. I hear its fall crashing against rocks. Coming to, my head throbs with pain. I wince and catch the attention of someone. Another person! They're not an angel! I mean they are figuratively. Have I made it?\n“Yes you're safe. This is GroundStar 36. Here we make Catalysts”\n“Really? I've made it! You must know the Crusaders are near. They caught my company at Silas hill some time ago”\n“We assumed when we found you. The rest of us are packing up and keeping a tight watch. In the meantime, have you used one of these before?”\n“Yeah on Earth”\nShe hands me a cellphone and says “better get to work”.\nThis is how Catalysts are made. We collect photos from Earth in hopes of revealing people's innermost memories and desires to themselves. Earth reception isn't great, so progress can be slow. I open up the chatroom. I've never really done this before. In this life or the former. What do I open with? The truth?\n“Hi, this is more important than you can possibly imagine. The freedom of a people depends on your cooperation. Please. Send nudes.”\n" ]	1
	[WP] You're part of an elite defense force of teddy bears that are tasked with keeping children safe from any danger through the night. You've just been given to your newest charge.	[ "16 years.\n\n16 long and arduous years I have spent in the Kingdom of Smith. Our colossal household became home to many other valiant toys eventually, but I was the first. Now, us bears are the last.\n\nThose first years were lonely. Then when Hailey was born, I took it upon myself to defend her. It came to be second nature, and with the arrival of more and more fellow toys, we decided to band together.\n\n16 years later, however, has taken its toll. Gone are the days youth; no longer is my fur the glorious bright pink it once was; the proud rainbow on my belly, now more battle scars than color; my sides, ready to burst at the seams at any moment.\n\nBut I count my blessings. Only 3 of us toys, all bears, remain now. The other toys were slowly taken away as they sustained more and more damage. They will not be forgotten. \n\nAs dusk falls, I enter the old playroom where our alliance congregates. I am the last to arrive for I see my comrades already at the Easy-Bake table.\n\n\"Fellow bears,\" I greet. \"What do we have today?\"\n\nTo my left stands Ty Valentino, the charmer of the group. Hailey's father used to call him Limited when he first joined us, though I know not where that nickname came from. We have him to thank for ending the Barbie Bratz War of '06. The horrors I witnessed that day still burn deep in my mind.\n\n\"Nothing from my room. Looks like another dull night, Cheer,\" Ty says to me.\nThe years have been kind to his white fur and deep red heart stitching.\n\nAcross Ty stands the biggest and youngest of our trio. \nDubbed Poke, he was brought to the alliance after Hailey's travels to a foreign kingdom called \"Japan.\" His name tag was partially torn, along with his tail, when he joined us. Unlike the rest of us with complete name tags, only half his name was decipherable, as the tag was not only damaged but written in an exotic language.\n\nJapan must be a large household considering the size of Poke. He says many of his kin are even larger than he is. I wonder if the rest of his kingdom's bears also possess yellow skin and such long ears.\n\nI see Poke staring straight ahead into the distance, as if contemplating some old memory. After a few seconds of silence from him, I speak up.\n\n\"How is Hailey, Poke?\"\n\n\"She's fine, Cheer,\" he replies. \"It's just...\"\n\n\"Just what?\" I ask.\n\n\"I heard something today...something we've never encountered before. Something horrible. Something that may prove to be our greatest battle yet.\"\n\nI exchange confused glances with Ty.\n\"After conquering the rodents, nothing scares me now,\" he quipped.\n\n\"You don't understand!\" Poke pleaded.\n\n\"Well out with it, good man! What could be more horrible than a rodent infestation?\" I demanded.\n\nA look of sheer terror suddenly forms on Poke's black and beady eyes as he begins to answer. \"I overheard Hailey talking to a friend over the phone.\"\n\n\nHe whispers, \"Hailey just got a boyfriend.\"\n\n", "\"Sergeant Ursa, you will be posted at 4201 East Rutherford. Your assignment is Lucy Watkins. May you perform your job admirably. Praesidio erat puer.\"\n\n\"Praesidio erat puer.\" Sergeant Ursa saluted as two bears lowered him into the box. After what felt like months, the light hit him suddenly, blinding him momentarily. He could hear chattering from the humans and tried to pick out his target. There were four sets of voices: two male, and two female. One gruff, one immature, one caring, and...\n\nAh, that would be her. His button eyes had adjusted to the light, and he looked at the small girl, reading her as best he could. He guessed she would be about three years old, with blond hair in pigtails. She seemed excited, yet apprehensive. She spoke softly, her voice like honey. \"Daddy, he's so cute! Thank you. Are you sure he'll keep me safe?\"\n\n\"Sweetheart, I ordered him specially so that he could keep you safe. His name is Sergeant Teddy Ursa.\"\n\nUrsa smiled internally, knowing his name and rank information had been provided to this man ahead of time. That was always best, making sure the parents knew the workings of the Night Defense Force ahead of time so that there were no surprises.\n\n\"I'm going to call him Teddy.\" She reached for Ursa, and her father graciously handed the bear over. Lucy quickly hugged him, exclaiming how soft and cuddly he was. For Teddy, this was his favorite part. The first hug made the connection real and gave weight to the job he was to do. Thirty years in the field meant Ursa had been the recipient of many embraces, and knew in his stuffing he was watching out for a good one. Lucy was a good hugger, and she smelled of strawberries, his favorite.\n\nShe held on to him throughout the day, only putting him down to eat, but keeping him close by. Teddy spent the time casing each room, mapping out escape plans and contingencies for anything that may happen. Sleepwalking? Sneak around and softly guide her back to her bed. Monster under the bed? There was a set of markers in the desk. Might as well send it scurrying with a little color to it. What about a monster in the closet? Those are always tougher. True, but this girl had a set of suspenders, a luxury most of his other posts had not. He could use it like a whip and push it off.\n\nBy the time night fell, the sergeant had covered every possible option he could think of. The clock in the hall chimed eight o'clock, and Lucy began to fuss. She did not want to go to sleep. They never did. Still, diligently, she went down the hall to her room, placing Ursa carefully on the bed before running to the bathroom. He could hear her brushing her teeth (could use a little more toothpaste next time), when the mother walked in. She glanced at Teddy and smiled, a knowing gesture. Ursa returned the smile, then got back in position as Lucy bounded in, clad in pajamas covered in ponies.\n\nThe mother tucked the girl into bed, read her a quick story (Ursa had heard it thousands of times before), and clicked off the light. She closed the door to the point where there was just a crack of light.\n\nThe watch began. Ursa peered into the dim room, daring anything to be an issue. There was nothing. Lucy tossed and turned a few times, but Teddy only had to put a paw on her to calm her.\n\nAt midnight, the door was pushed open. The father stood in the doorway. The stench of alcohol filled the room. Teddy felt his stuffing churn. Please, not one of these houses. Not another assignment like this. I can't protect her from that.\n\nSlowly shuffling, the man approached the bed. Ursa glared at him, but he either did not notice or pretended not to. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaned over, and kissed the top of the head of the girl. \"Sleep well, my little angel. No one is going to hurt you. I know we won't let them.\"\n\nTeddy watched as the man got up, stepped out of the room, and closed it to its previous position. A wave of relief washed over him. As he settled in for the long night, he grinned. This will be a good post." ]	2
	[WP] You don't know that you are a cell of a human body. One day some 'people' of a small 'village' gain the knowledge that you are all part of a celestial, god-like giant. Said giant has thoughts, dreams and a life of its own. How does this realization change the lives of the cells around you?	[ "My time was almost upon me. That I was quite certain of. My mitochondria were not as active as they once were. Hell, they seemed to have slowed down just after this last doubling. My lysosomes are full it seems more often than not.I think my neighbors feel it as well. Fewer and fewer signaling molecules were being sent to me every day. And it feels like they are trying to cut me off from the nearest capillary. I don't blame them really, I have done the same to others like me. Those near the end must make way so the rest can thrive; there is no malice in it. Still...my cytoplasm is a solution of more than my fluids and organelles. Now there is sadness. More specifically a sense of loss. As my telomeres have shrunk I began to feel like....I will be missing out on something. I've tried to shake the feeling, I know it to be foolish.\n\nI suddenly felt a familiar presence on my walls closest to the capillary. Whitey was back!\n\n\"Good morning\" Said Larry; he was a Lymphocyte doing his daily rounds.\n\n\"Good morning Larry, how are we all today\" I said\n\n\"Still recovering from that nasty bug from a few cycles back. Thankfully I am not seeing much left of it in our neighborhood. Sorry I had to rat out a few of your brood over it. If I hadn't it would have used them to copy itself\" Larry said in a rush. We both know it's his purpose, but I think sometimes he feels guilty about it.\n\n\"No worries Larry, at least pars distalis has finally stopped screaming about it. I don't taste much more than the usual cortisol now. Besides there is still some more where they came from eh?!\" I quipped. \"It makes me wonder though, where these little bastards keep coming from.\"\n\n\"Well...\" Larry paused \"I shouldn't tell you this, but we both know you are almost a goner; sorry about that by the way.\" he added \"So.....they came from outside\"\n\n\"Outside!? Come on Larry that's crazy talk, we are all there is; everybody knows that. Your starting to sound like a Merkel (cell). That new age mumbo jumbo is just that if you ask me.\" I paused a moment for dramatic effect \"There is something else...the OTHER!!oooOOOHOOHho, round are the edges! LOL\"\n\n\"No, they might be a little on the enthusiastic side. Perhaps a little grandiose; but they are right\" Larry went on. \"My pals over in the lungs have passed the plans on to me for some anti-bodies a few times, just in case; for some of the stuff they find coming in\" I know it's a lot to take in but we are all parts of something much greater. If nothing else in a literal sense buddy. There are stories of The Brain and its mindfulness, but I can't go there so I can't say for sure \" He explained matter-of-factly. \"Well besides being old you are clean for another cycle, I'll be seeing ya old chum\"\n\nAnd with that he detached and floated off. Leaving me alone with a growing list of disturbing existential conundrums. Larry gets around; I trust him to be honest with me. So then I am little more then a tiny disposable part of some whole? Do I even matter to our whole? Does it know I exist? Does it feel my contribution? Does it care? The poison control guys would probably argue it doesn't. \n\nI am about to run out of stable divisions, it's so unfair! I won't let it end like this. I will show my so called greater self that I matter, that we all matter. We will not just go overboard so the ship can stay afloat!\n\nI began the division sequence, and removed my restraints. Abandoned all checks to the accuracy of my spawning. We would \"divide and conquer\" as it were. We would show this supreme being just how important we are. We would have to be quick, and spread far in a short time. Larry and his ilk would catch on in a cycle or two if we were not careful. \n\nBut we can do this, I am sure. You can't spell Cancer without a \"can\" do attitude. \n" ]	1
	[WP] He received a letter with only three words: She is alive.	[ "He received a letter with only three words: She is alive.\n\nHe blinked down at the letter. He shifted in his chair, tapping his foot a little faster than he had been before. He blinked again.\nThe letter had clearly been for him. His name and address had been rather meticulously put on the front of the envelope in a loopy cursive handwriting. The only problem was- he didn't have the slightest idea as to who the letter was referring to.\n\nHe racked his brain for any idea of who this she could be. His mother was alive and well, he knew this was certain- in fact, he had gone out for breakfast for her the previous morning. She had ordered chocolate chip pancakes with strawberries on the side (though she never even gave the fruit a glance). He had told her about the afternoon meeting he had had the day previous and the death-like boredom it had caused him. There was no mistaking the absence of her existence- so who would it be?\n\nHe had no girlfriend to check in for. His life, for several years now, had been spent drifting between work and his home all on his lonesome, allowing only the occasional trip to the bar or the cinema to interrupt his routine of solitude. He hadn't even a female pet to pin this on. Sure, he could go for the stretch and say the letter was meant for a childhood pet he had owned, but that was simply not plausible.\n\nHe spent much more time wondering over the letter than he should have. It's initial opening had been early in the morning, so he had to still oblige to his obligation of going to work that day. The seemingly innocuous letter stuck with him mentally, if not physically, and he very quickly found his mind running astray in moments where he should have been clacking away at his keyboard or pushing the decaf button on the coffee machine.\n\nIf he was going to be honest, his day wasn't much different from any other day. His life was a symphony of actions and movement, not verbal outbursts or careful words and dictations. His mind conducted a slideshow of motion and reaction in his life in place of his memories, in much the same way an orchestra or a silent movie did- wordless but meaningful. \n\nThis day was the same as any other. It was the movement of his right hand as he clicked on yet another document to look over. It was the slight twitch of discomfort in his co-workers smile each and every time he said good morning to her. It was the flex of his arm muscles as he pushed on the exit door to leave, which inevitably got jammed each day. Today, however, in between each meaningless action and private thought, there was something else:\n\nShe is alive.\n\nThe message both boggled and bothered him. Maybe someone sent it as a prank. Something to set him off for the day. He shouldn't let it irk him anymore.\n\nAnd yet, it did.\n\nIt wasn't until he got home that he realized something crucial he had missed. \nOn the floor beside the desk he had opened the letter on was a picture of a girl. It must have slipped out of his sight when he took the letter out of it's envelope. The girl had long, frizzy hair, thrown into a blonde braid at her side that went all the way down to her hips. Her face was contorted into that of a painful smile, as if someone was stepping on her toes at the same time as telling her to smile for the picture. The expression was odd, considering the rest of the picture seemed rather normal. The background was actually rather peaceful; it was the scene of a field filled with bright yellow flowers against a clear blue sky. It suggested paradise.\n\nHe flipped the photo over, expecting to find the regular watermarks of a printed photograph. Instead, he found more of the loopy cursive letters that had been written on his envelope.\n\nYour lovely sister.\n\nSome moments in life can only be described by a simple sound. The moment he read those words could be described as a very audible bang. His vision left him for the smallest fraction of a millisecond, and then it was back again. The only problem was- he was no longer where he had been standing moments before.\n\nHis sight had been engulfed by the scene of a damp-looking concrete ceiling. All he could smell was the scent of rain. All he could hear was silence.\n\nCarefully, he flexed his fingers. They seemed to be resting against some kind of armrest. He....he was in a chair. A dentists chair? No, but something similar.\n\nMaybe there was a reason he thought the way he did. He was never able to remember names and dates, but he could remember the way his lips trembled as he said a name, or the feeling of his own hand clasping a friendly shoulder as they blew out some birthday candles. All he knew was that actions had real consequences. The consequence of his decision to sit up in his chair just happened to be sudden blinding from an ungodly bright light shining straight into his eyes.\n\n\"Simulation sickness worn off yet, Red? We don't have much time,\" a deep voice called towards him from the other side of the light.\n\n\"Wha- I don't-\" his voice stammered out, sounding rough and over-used. It wasn't exactly easy to form a coherent response when his retinas were burning.\n\nThe beam of light suddenly lowered to reveal the blurry figure of a man. He was tall and well-built, his broad shoulders pointing up and square with the ground as if he had a pole taped to his spine. A light-brown scar ran across the dark skin of the man's temple and cheek.\n\n\"You promised five minutes. That five minutes passed half an hour ago. People are starting to notice,\" The man interjected, stomping into the room. The reached towards him before he could react, pulling multiple colored wires off of his temples and his forehead. He hadn't even noticed they were there.\n\n\"Woah, woah, woah.....where am i? What the hell is going on here?\" He responded, holding up his hand to stop the tall man's hands from reaching towards him again. \"And who the hell are you? Why did you call me Red?\"\nRed was not his name. His name was......well- his name....his name was..\n\nWith a rush of horrifying realization, he discovered he didn't even know his own name.\n\nThe man gave him an odd glance for a moment, before the expression was replaced by a hardened look of determination.\n\"This isn't the time for games. You heard what the Boss Man said- she is alive. We have to hurry,\" he hissed, forcing him to a sitting position.\n\nJust like that, the storm of confusion and fear that clouded his mind since he awoke in this foreign room parted for just a moment, giving him the clarity he needed. She is alive. He didn't know much- in fact, he was very quickly realizing he didn't know anything at all- but he did know those words. He needed to find out what they meant, no matter the cost.\n\n\"......Alright. Lead the way,\" Red replied, giving the man a nod. He turned towards the light that had been coming from the doorway, taking in a deep breath as he watched the tall man disappear out into the hall.\n\nActions have consequences. He had no doubt that his choice to step into the echoing stretch of hallway would have the worst consequences of all." ]	1
	[WP] Your entire life, you've been preordained to stop the apocalypse. However, when the time comes, you are too shit-faced drunk to do anything.	[ "\"I love you Dara!\" My stutter is barely audible over the screeching of car alarms ringing down the deserted street.\n\"James you jackass!\" She screams back at me, tired of my incompetence.\n\"Have you paid attention to anything I've said?!?!\" \nI attempt to wipe my sweaty forehead with my hand, forgetting I'm already holding a flask of cheap red wine. \"Yeah baby I listen!\"\nShe laughs dramatically. \n\"My ass!\"\nI dismiss her with a wave of my bottle as I collapse on the ground.\nShe puts her face right up to mine, her dazzling blue eyes shrouded with tears and her dark brown hair messily splayed all over her face. \n\"Do you not see the dead shit down the road James!? Are you blind!?\"\nI look quizzically down the street, my vision blurred and my head spinning all over the place.\n\"You mean the two dead guys?\"\nShe looks behind her shoulder.\n\"You're seeing double! God James! You're always drunk when I need you! Asshole!\"\nI shrug dismissively.\n\"maybe you're seeing half?\"\nThe sting of five fingers slams into my cheek, blood trickles down from a deep gash left by her diamond crusted engagement ring. \nShe rips it off her finger before throwing it to the ground.\n\"You told me we'd be ready for this! Son of a bitch!\"\nI can barely make out the sound of her heels clacking against the pavement as I lose myself to a better world." ]	1
	[WP] One day, it suddenly happens that the more money someone has, the dumber they get.	[ "\"Master Wayne, do you really think this is a good idea?\" Alfred said, looking at Bruce worriedly. Bruce smiled that charming goofy grin of his.\n\n\"Best idea I've ever had. Yet, anyways, Algernon.\"\n\nAlfred had given up on correcting Bruce a long time ago. The rise to riches had done his young master's prosopagnosia no favors. It was a damned relief that he had kept his good heart though.\n\nBruce Wayne, orphaned as a mere child, a well-meaning scourge upon the otherwise peaceful streets of Gotham, eternal virgin playboy wannabe, and now...\n\n\"I'm BATMAN!\" Bruce Wayne screeched, jumping off a high rise precipice of his man-cave, suspended only by a precariously thin sliver of elastic rope. Oh, that and he was dressed as some kind of man-bat abomination. Alfred closed his eyes. He couldn't watch.\n\n\"Whoooo!\"\n\nAlfred opened his eyes. His master dangled in the air, his hastily scrapped together costume tearing in some of the seams, but otherwise, unhurt.\n\n\"Oh thank g...\"\n\nBefore he could finish the sentence, the rope snapped. The billionaire idiot fell onto the floor with a resounding thud, rolled, and lay on the ground, motionless and belly-up. Alfred rushed over to the scene.\n\n\"Master Wayne! Master Wayne!\"\n\nHis eyes opened. There was a maddening layer of mischief in those eyes that terrified Alfred.\n\n\"It worked Dave, it worked!!\"\n\n\"Uh actually...\"\n\n\"Hire some guys, I want gadgets that go PIEU!! And stuff that goes PUFF and then giant, criminal-eating bats fly out when I throw them and... criminal-eating bats are a thing, right?\"\n\nAlfred sighed resignedly and nodded.\n\n\"Good, I'll want one, no, make that a hundred of those. I want them in cat form. You know, because I like cats.\"\n\n\"Very good, Master Wayne.\"\n\nBruce Wayne hopped up on his feet and staggered. Alfred hoped it wasn't a concussion. Things couldn't possibly get worse from here, or could they?\n\n\"I'm Bruceman! I mean Waynebat! And I'm going to cleanse Gotham! Prepare for the cleansing! Wheeeee!\"\n\nBruce Wayne ran out of the cave mimicking an airplane. Alfred sighed and looked around at the mess he had created. Cleanup was going to be a bitch.\n\n-----\n\nPlease visit r/Seriousaboutnachos for more of my writing, thanks!" ]	1
	[WP] You are confronted by a Man who looks just like your dead father , you are shocked to learn your father didn't die in the first place.	[ "I remembered holding his hand by the ocean, crying. The pink little floaties were wrapped tightly on my waist, and my father assured me that they would keep me afloat, but I bawled my eyes out. The water was only up to my ankles, but I was frightened. Eventually, my father pulled up an umbrella and sat in the shade with me, teaching me a game called \"Patty Cake\".\n\nI remembered standing by a statue of Casper the Friendly Ghost, and my father lifting me up so I could be seen in the photo. We ate little hotdogs that day.\n\nI remembered sitting by him, kissing him and hugging him. Both of my parents would awaken to the slightest touch, but he didn't wake up. I felt the bed, wet beneath my palms. \n\n\"Mama, I think papa peed.\" I giggled.\n\nPapa did pee. And what did papa not do? Breathe.\n\nMy last memory, however, was standing next to him in a gray room, filled with family members. The aura was so frightening---no one spoke a word. I held his hand, nudging him.\n\nBut now, he was sitting there, across from me. He looked younger. No, he looked alive.\n\nI was confused. Should I be filled with rage? Sadness? Happiness?\n\nNow I know he deliberately left my mother. And I'll be damned if he said he didn't. He faked his death.\n\nI cried countless nights. Of the things that could have been. We used to live in a 2 story house and never had to worry a thing about money, but now we lived in a tiny apartment and lived paycheck to paycheck.\n\nMy mother tried to fill in the void left by my dad. She had various boyfriends, all of which whom had hurt her to no end. I had countless nights of no sleep because of the screaming. The fighting. The crying. She would ignore us and care more for her boyfriend.\n\nMy siblings disappeared, one after the other. My mom was unbearable. I was the youngest and was left with a monster.\n\nSo now I sat in front of my father. Someone who could have prevented such despair.\n\nI slapped him. I slapped him right across his smug ass face. His stupid fucking dumb ass face. His disgusting, traitor, liar ass face. And I shouted to no degree. Words that didn't match. Words that didn't matter.\n\nHe suddenly stood up, shutting me up. And he hugged me.\n\n\"I'm so sorry for leaving you with her for so long... I loved her in the beginning, but things had changed. I couldn't... I'm so sorry. Please forgive me.\"\n\nI nodded.\n\n\"Let's go home now.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You've been in the Galactic Army for years, the only human in your squad. You are now on a mission gone terribly wrong, and your squad thinks all hope is lost. With nothing left to lose, you start killing all enemies in sight while your squad looks on in awe and terror.	[ "Then silence, for now.\n\nI turn around.\n\nThe rest of my squad is just standing there, in disbelief.\n\n\"You - you killed them, Johnson. You killed them.\"\n\nI couldn't quite understand their disbelief, so I responded with \"yeah.\"\n\n\"Wh... You just...\" said one of my mates, Mr. Brljurd, gesturing with a hand to a corpse.\n\nI looked down, then back up at him; \"yeah.\" said I. \"Come on, we have to go.\"\n\n__________________________________\n\nWhen we got to our craft, I marched to my bunk, and pulled out a foot locker. I was talking with another mate in my squad.\n\n\"Don't you feel, I don't know, something at all? That was horrible, don't you realize that?\"\n\nI responded with \"yes it's a shame but we don't have time. We're being invaded and surrounded by an enemy that is more powerful than we are. We are not in a position for philosophy.\"\n\n\"Don't you think it was wrong, something like that? They developed with their own ideas and methods of life, you don't think that it's wrong to end their whole life just because of that? They didn't know any different. How could you convince yourself that you could expect anything different, logically?\"\n\n\"The only thing I expected from them was them dying.\"\n\nShe looked at me aghast, and pale.\n\n\"Ms. Finx,\" I replied, \"I didn't come from a world like yours, where there was unlimited time for philosophy and debate and reason, standing around in togas or whatever thinking about questions of life. The times humanity has had for that are few and far between. Because we have things that are more dire back home, things like solar radiation, limited; as well as inadequate resources, poison, death. Things like smallpox, the plague, arsenic, food shortages, water shortages, predators, sunburns. Do you know what a sunburn is Ms. Finx?\"\n\n\"No.\" She replied.\n\n\"It's where intense solar radiation causes death of skin cells, leading to painful burns and the peeling off of skin, blisters, and even cancer.\"\n\nShe looked at me like I had just revealed to her that some epic legend was real. At this point I had gathered some things from my foot locker.\n\nShe looked bedazzled, and still very concerned. She looked down at the weapon in my hand, confused. She asked me; \"what is that?\" As I looked down at it, \"all the crew has been debating what it is, and placing bets on it.\"\n\nI looked back up at her.\n\n\"Have you been going through my personal effects, Ms. Finx?\"\n\nMy demeanor, affected by the recent episode of violence, must have been a little hostile, as she seemed a little scared of me now, and stepped back a bit.\n\n\"No, I, uh, not me personally, I mean, but you know, when a new creature comes aboard, you know, some people get curious.\"\n\nI looked back down at it, then back at her, and said; \"it's a shotgun.\"\n\n___________________________________\n\nWe docked with an overtaken ship, and I immediately stepped through the airlock, and onto board. The leader of my squadron followed after, irritated very much by my demeanor. He was saying things, but I didn't acknowledge him until I heard \"stop right there\" through his high speed, garbled speech.\n\nI turned around so quickly that he almost bumped into me. I met the middle of his next sentence with \"did you rummage through my personal effects, Mr. Vickers?\"\n\n\"Vickers\" wasn't actually his name. I couldn't pronounce or even remember his real name, so I decided to call him by a new one, one that would reflect on his nearly incoherent, fast paced speech. I thought he sounded like a model T engine, but calling him \"model T\" sounded stupid, and I definitely wasn't going to refer to this pale grey, 5'2\" skinny guy as \"Mr. T.\" So I went with \"Vickers,\" as it reflected it enough.\n\nHe stopped for a moment, stunned by my attitude. He responded with \"Johnson, remember that you were picked for this job, remember without the knowledge of virtually every other earth man, because you are, at least were, a sensible, reasonable, and outstandingly logical person. This seems wrongly violent and hostile, against the entire fleet code.\"\n\nAnd I responded; \"Mr. Vickers, remember that you were picked as the leader of this squadron because you are not only a scientist, but a scientific officer, and are thus the most qualified to lead a scientific mission, of which we were, and still technically are, on. But let me tell you something Mr. Vickers, the territory of your government, your homeworld, and your entire livelihood and family are in danger. Danger from a very violent entity that is here to take advantage of your peaceful and naiive nature. We all now have a duty to protect it, if from foreign organisms, plants, etc., why not this? These people are as big of a threat than anything else we fight. Now if you'd excuse me, I'm busy going Normandy up in this bitch. You may participate if you like.\"\n\nThe entire time I was thinking to myself, \"they thought I was brutal before, using blunt objects and my fists. Now I have a shotgun. Now they're going to see some real shit.\"\n\nI got into the main hall, and let off the first shot. Ms. Finx, who at this point was right behind me, clasped her ears and slid down the wall to the ground, making a strange noise that seemed to be her species' equivalent to crying.\n\nMr. Burljrd went to comfort her. He was a very large, yet kind man, I thought. But I had no time. I moved forward.\n\nThey all fell behind, except for the last mate in my group, which I referred as \"nikko.\" Nikki was odd, a short and very round creature, that had to skip to move around. Nikko wasn't a \"he\" or a \"she,\" and I wasn't sure if Nikko was some other sex, or didn't have one at all. It was obvious that there was not even a concept of this in Nikko's mind, as Nikko could not grasp why I added the prefixes \"Mr.\" or \"Ms.\" to seemingly random people's names. I wasn't going to make up some bullshit pronoun for this creature, so I just referred to it as \"Nikko,\" and Nikko was Nikko.\n\nAs I got to the bridge door, I heard terrified rambling coming from the inside. I couldn't understand the language, but I didn't care too much. I blew up the latch with my door breach. \n\nI walked in, and the rest of the crew were in a panic. Many had been killed. The rest of my squadron came up behind me, pale from what they had just witnessed.\n\nI went to talk to the captain of the ship, using Mr. Vickers as a translator. Asking me what to do next, I ponder, smile, and respond with \"your mom.\"\n\nI couldn't tell what the facial expression or tone of voice the captain was communicating even meant, but Vickers told me that it was confusion. I said not to worry about it, and that we're going to have to get ahold of an army. Consult with leaders, very quickly. Offer something in trade for help from an army of earth. \"Your long peace is over,\" I said, \"everything that exists will eventually degrade into something that you never wanted to be real, never could have imagined it being; given enough time. Remember that.\"" ]	1
	[WP] Winter is not coming.	[ "\"I canna taek it any more!\" Yelled a man at the dark morning sky. His full beard and unbrushed shoulder length hair combined with the dim yellow street lamp lighting his face from above contributed to an air of madness about him. This was accentuated by his choice of wardrobe, nothing more than a short pair of black underwear. \n\nA half dozen of his neighbors who had been busy going about their morning routines, had paused and were watching him from various locations up and down his street. \n\n\"You all right there Mr. Reid?\" It was the next door neighbor, calling from just the other side of their shared front lawn. She was a short elderly woman who was so hunched over that she looked down at her feet while she walked.\n\n\"Ach.\" Geordie lowered his fist and seemed to calm at the sight of his neighbor.\n\n\"It's December. I can'neh understan' why I have teh be sweaten' in me pants at this time a year in Thurso! Thurso Ms. McCubbin! I did me time in the tropics in the service. Plenty 'nough thank ye!\"\n\nMs. McCubbin braced herself on her cane as she shakily bent down and picked up her morning paper. \"You'll do well to have more sense than that Geordie. No use cryin' over somethin' you canna do nothin' about.\"\n\nGeordie grumbled.\n\nMs. McCubbin walked over to Geordie and craned her neck with much effort so she could look up at his face with her good eye. \"A why don' you come by an I'll fix some iced lemonade.\" She paused. \"But put some trousers on ya hooligan.\"\n\n-\n\n*edit word choice" ]	1
My first post here on WP. My apologies for the length and/or if its a repeat lol	[WP] You've trained your whole life to be the best and that's exactly what you are. The single greatest athlete of all time. Master of every and all sports. Problem is none of them excite you anymore, you're too good, expect this one random odd-ball sport....	[ "I blinked into the camera. I'd won the Superbowl pretty much on my own. I'd won every major award in every sport I could think of. Apart from the sportsmanship ones, but those were a joke. I was the best. Hockey, I'd broken every record anyone ever set. Basketball, mastered. Baseball, home run king. I'd played everything and won and won. Any loss was always the fault of an insufficient team. I'd carried losers well above their ability without ease. I blinked again.\n\n\"I lost?\" I didn't understand I couldn't lose. I never had. Someone challenged me to a sport I took them on and shut them down. But this sport... this was something new. My heart was pumping, adrenaline surging. A new challenge. Finally!\n\nThe boy twirled his tiger and smiled mischievously, \"Welcome to Calvinball.\" ", "\"AND THE WINNER IS.... THE GREATEST OF ALL TIME, JOHN MCWEATHER!\"\n\n\nMy theme music burst through the speakers, causing everyone's ears in a 5-mile \n\nvicinity to throb. On the outside, I smiled, but on the inside, I was numb. What\n\nwas the point of it all? I put in so much hardworking to be the best at every sport\n\nbut now that I was the greatest athlete of all time, life was meaningless... \n\nThen, I met him. Said his name was Calvin and called himself my number one fan.\n\nI don't know what it was, but something about this kid... he reminded me of\n\nmyself when I was younger. Then, he told me that he was the greatest athlete of \n\nall time. In order to humor him, I told him he could challenge me in any sport of \n\nhis choosing. He choose this little oddball of a sport he called \"Calvinball\". I asked,\n\nconfusedly, what the rules where. He told me there were no rules, except for one. \n\nThe game could never be played the same way again. Now, if it were any other \n\nkid, I would've smiled and told them, \"No thanks.\" but there was something about\n\nCalvin and that tiger of his... I couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. Then, as I \n\nwas panting along, trying to keep up with this hyperactive kid on the field, I \n\nrealized what it was. Imagination... Excitement... and pure funloving spirit. I \n\ndidn't realize it then, but Calvin reminded me of everything I used to be and \n\nslowly but surely, while playing with him, I was getting some of it back.\n\n\n\n____________________________________________________________________________________________\n\nFirst Prompt! Yay!" ]	2
Ex. If good gets to powerful, you help evil, and if evil gets to powerful you help good.	[WP] You live in a world where people with super powers are common. With more than enough heroes and villains fighting, you form an organization dedicated to keeping the balance of power between good and evil in check.	[ "\"Not much further now,\" Puzzle said, his breath as steady as if he was standing still. \n\nShe grunted in response, silently cursing the burning sensation in her chest that swelled with each breath. She couldn't help but compare herself to him, even though she knew that it wasn't fair. Running had never been her forte after all, even during her active years. \n\n\"Should be right around here,\" Puzzle said, looking down at his wrist just as the wall to his right exploded outwards. \n\nWithin less than a second, the hallway was filled with dust and debris, its walls having been punched straight through as if by an enormous bullet. And there was no sign of Puzzle. For a moment she just stood there, stunned, before her instincts kicked in and she rushed to the hole on her left. \n\nThe holes continued through different rooms and corridors, stopping after having smashed through at least a few dozen walls. At the far end of this impromptu tunnel was a body laying limp against a wall that looked like it shouldn't be standing. It was wearing a bright yellow outfit with a vizor that was completely smashed to bits along with seemingly every bone in his body. Critical Mass, if she remembered correctly. Didn't really matter now though, seeing as he was very clearly dead.\n\nBehind him, Puzzle was also laying limply, his body no doubts having sustained similar damages. She was almost concerned for a second until she saw a finger readjust itself with a disgusting crack of bone. Shit always creeped her out, she always dreaded the feeling of her body being put back together after getting injured. But you can't put together the dead, she thought with a sigh, looking down at the sorry bastard in yellow.\n\n\"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to step away from the villain,\" A voice from behind her shouted.\n\nShe laughed slightly, \"Step away from the corpse, you mean?\" She said, turning to face him. \n\nThe man was wearing a large exoskeleton that made him stand at well over seven feet tall, his left arm, in particular, being almost the size of a small car. She didn't recognize him. He didn't recognize her.\n\n\"Villains are villains, even dead ones, and I'm telling you to step away from him, \" He ducked into the hole, one robotic hand accidentally tearing off a large chunk of the wall as he clumsily emerged fully into the room. \"Now.\" \n\nShe laughed loudly. He reminded her of so many of the kids she'd picked off the streets, righteous and proud, positively glowing with conviction. Ignorant children, each and every one of them. Looking down once more at the mushy pile of broken bones and blood that stained the wall behind her, she sighed. They should know better by now.\n\n\"All men are equals in death,\" She said, smiling up at him. \"Which means he is a villain no more.\"\n\n\"Step away granny, or I'll make you move.\" He said, his suit readjusting threateningly.\n\nShe closed her eyes as her hand moved down to the sheath at her side. \"You have disrupted the equilibrium through your actions today,\" She said, exhaling slowly. \"So I must act as the hand of balance.\"\n\nHe opened his mouth to respond but instead of sound the last thing to leave his body was instead the hot blood that now coated the walls and ceiling of the room.\n\nShe sheathed her sword slowly and faced up as the blood rained down on her face from the chunk of flesh still trapped in its metal cage. Her arms ached from the stress but she pushed through the pain to push her hands together.\n\n\"Know that you served your purpose,\" She said with a bow \"And that your sacrifice was not in vain.\" \n\nShe didn't expect an answer this time either, instead turning around to the now mostly intact body of puzzles. Throwing him up on one shoulder she left the room now housing the bodies of the two people they had come here to heal. Either way, balance had been restored.\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Your newborn baby has woken up in the middle of the night crying. You enter his room to discover a time traveler who has gone back in time to kill the most evil man in history before he can harm anyone.	[ "\"Please spare my baby,\" I didn't have the energy to stand for much longer. \n\n\"I'm sorry but I have to do this,\" his curt reply was rough around the edges. Intent on harm. Like shards of glass tossed into my lungs, I couldn't breathe.\n\nMy son was in his arm, wailing, hiccups bursting from his tiny lips. And the man had a gun in his free grip, nozzle aimed at me.\n\n\"Please, please, I'll do anything,\" I reached forward but the man backed away, head shaking. \n\n\"I'm taking him away. You won't have to see-- You can stay here,\" he said and I bursh into sobs as shooting lights began circling his feet.\n\n\"Please...\" I tried to go forward but the cylinder of light consumed the two of them and then I was alone. My son, gone. Lost. \n\nI knelt to the floor, bawling my eyes out. Because they were watching me. They'd stop very soon and leave me in peace. \n\nAnd they did. I could feel that their eyes were gone and I stood up. My son was tucked in my bed. I didn't like the idea of him being there but I knew the time traveller would come. They were such silly people. \n\nIt's amazing what plastic surgery did to me. My own partner couldn't recognise me.\n\nThey took someone else's innocent baby I snatched away. I wanted my son to stay safe and well. I wanted him to be loved. I headed back to my room. I picked up my little darling and snuggled him in my arms.\n\nBut then that burst of light shone behind me. I rolled my eyes and swivelled with my sleeping son in my grip.\n\n\"I thought I recognised that voice,\" Quilhelm said, the other infant gone. Probably back to where I took him from.\n\n\"You're not going to touch my baby,\" I said, matter-of-factly. Quilhelm scoffed and shook his head. He took out his gun.\n\n\"You can try to run but I will find you,\" he said. \"So either you hand over your son-- or I'll kill you, right now.\"\n\nI glared at him. Monstrous ruin. I coughed a little because of an old flu that was hanging around those times. Quilhelm waited for a brief moment and cocked the gun, pointing it right at my son.\n\n\"Don't you even dare,\" I snarled at him. I had to think of a destination. 1900s? \n\n\"Last chance,\" he said. Emotionless. His eyes were ready. He had a mission to do. I gulped.\n\nJust as I tried to send myself away, Quilhelm jumped forward and tugged on my sleeve, pulling me away from my son with the force of travelling in time working against me. Quilhelm went into the beam and followed my defenceless son.\n\nI beamed myself to the same place but he was gone. I bellowed into the wilderness and shot myself back into the real present where guards were waiting for me. They pinned me down and someone injected a sedative into me.\n\n\"You killed my son,\" I yelled at them, very suddenly blacking down.\n\nBut then I saw Quilhelm holding my son next to our leader. I wailed and banged the ground, pounding my weakening fists into the concrete.\n\n\"Our son is perfect for mass destruction in the past,\" Quilhelm said. Our leader began laughing. \n\n\"It's only right my grandson is the master of the past,\" he said and that was the final time I heard anything when I was still alive.\n\n~~a bit messy but I hope sense can be made from it o.o~~\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Make a story that seems dark and sad until the last paragraph which makes it a happy story	[ "Sometimes the heart feels emotion that your brain can't comprehend. I would wake up and you would be there, lying by my side, waiting for my affection. Just yesterday you were here. I looked outside today and the world continues as it were...\n\nI want to grab someone and shake them. I want to yell my rage. \n\n\"DONT YOU SEE?! HE'S GONE! HE'S GONE AND YOU'RE ACTING AS IF NOTHING CHANGED!\"\n\nI want to look at the their dumbfounded faces. I want someone to understand my hurt. I need someone to understand my hurt. But they cant, they wont. \n\n\"Hey Honey.\"\n\nI look up and see a familiar face. But it's not yours... Why cant it be yours? \n\n\nI pan back to the window and close my eyes. I can feel your breath against my cheek, your head pressed against my shoulder, and the warmth of your aura. It was almost as if you were here...\n\nYour bark causes me to turn around once more. It's you. It really is you isn't it? I let out a cry of euphoria as I press my hands against your face. Your wagging tail brings a smile upon my face and everything is alright in the world once more. Your are the embers of my soul, my very good boy.", "I would never be able to hold him like this again. The thought made my stomach feel heavy. I looked at his face, so quiet and still. I want to remember every one of his little features just as they are. \n\nThe moon gives just enough light to let me see his golden hair. I run my fingers through it, just like I did when he was a baby. The world seemed to stop. I couldn't hear anything except the ticking of the clock on the wall. His hand was laying limp at my side. \n\n We tried for so long to get pregnant. When I found out we were expecting I was so happy. We were so happy. Then the pregnancy was hard, I was so sick. He was born with so many problems, he was so tiny. We stayed in the nicu for weeks, saw specialist after specialist. \n\nThe tears started started falling down my cheeks as I let go of him. He had grown into a happy, healthy little boy. He was so big now I wouldn't be able to carry him to his room anymore if he fell asleep in the car. I smile and wipe the tears from my cheeks. Soon he'll be big enough to carry me. ", "Three bodies. Three.\n\nI'm not sure what happened. I was on the road on the way to a meeting, glanced away for a second, and then...this.\n\nSo much work, all the worry and effort in this life, and then...three. I tried not to think of what the consequences might be, but the walls seemed to be closing in nonetheless. The sound of approaching sirens sent a shiver down my spine.\n\n\"You gonna play that stupid videogame all day?\" My girlfriend sounded annoyed, but with a playful edge to her voice. Even without looking at her, I could hear a smile in her voice. \"Or...you gonna come to bed and fuck me?\" I was already chasing her laughing voice out of the room before the controller hit the floor. " ]	3
Write a journal or diary entry from the vantage of one of the last humans. Or just tell us a story.	[WP] 100 Trillion years into the future, the last of the major stars have all but exhausted their hydrogen fuel. The last vestiges of an extraordinarily advanced humanity are gathered around the last lit star in the known universe. And it's dying.	[ "Flemen stared at the star through the safety viewer, hoping to see again what he at first took for a hallucination. Not moments ago a face had appeared--at least Flemen thought it was a face. \"There! That's it!\" Flemen pointed to Slappius 9 excitedly and tugged on his colleague's sleeve. \n\n\"Well I'll be damned--that IS a face. And a comically proportioned one at that,\" said Telestrant. \n\nQuickly, the face seemed to focus on their position and, to Flemen and Telestrant's surprise it opened it's mouth to speak: \"What the hell are all of you still doing here?\"\n\nTelestrant replied as a matter of instinct: \"All of us?\"\n\nThe voice responded, doubling its incredulous tone. \"Yes, all of you people, there, in and on and around that ridiculous sphere. Don't you know this thing is toast?\"\n\n\"Of course we know,\" replied Flemen angrily, \"we were just trying to have a quiet moment of existential reflection while facing our doom* with dignity.\"\n\n\"Oh, sweet Crom--it's one of those universes. You probably wrote a poem about this, didn't you?\" Slappius 9 now looked mildly amused, a first in it's multi-billion year life. \n\nTelestrant laughed and Flemen looked sheepish. \"It was only 400 lines.\"\n\nSlappius 9's mouth curled into a smile and the thunderous laughter of a mysteriously animated star filled the Dyson Sphere's grand observational terrace. \"So predictable! Tell me, in all that time spent writing poetry did you bother to take a break and solve the problem of entropy? Let me guess--no. Instead, perhaps, you entertained yourselves with the antics of foolish families? And perhaps you spent some time stimulating whatever ridiculous organs you have for reproduction? Carbon-based life is a joke through ten universes because of you, my friends. That said, if you'd prefer not to die in an extended melodramatic series of disasters as your low-rent universe collapses in on itself, you're free to join us over here.\"\n\nNow Telestrant and Flemen looked incredulous. \"On a star? We can't live on a star!\"\n\n\"By Crom's bearded balls you are a slow species, aren't you? I am not your star, you nitwit. I am a representative of my universe, speaking through your star. I figured it would be the best way to reach you. You would be moving to our universe, obviously. Now, do you want to come over or not? The Grekthars are having a movie millennia, and they said you could stop by--just bring your own drinks.\"\n\nTelestrant and Flemen looked at one another. Their thoughts aligned. \"We would be heroes! We saved billions from extinction! We made first contact with a guy from another universe! He seems kind of like a dick, though! And Grekthar is a dumb name for a species! Was it even a species?! What's all this about bringing your own drinks?! Seems a little lame!\" Telestrant and Flemen's faces twitched as their telepathy veered toward an inescapable moment of truth. \n\n\"We're actually kind of busy right now,\" they said simultaneously. \n\nSlappius 9, as a star, did not have a jaw to drop, but the face imprinted upon it did it's best anyhow. \"What?\"\n\nTelestrant demurred. \"Yeah, it's just that we're kind of busy right now in this universe--we have to make sure everything's locked up before entropy and finality and non-existence and all that. Thanks, though. Have a good one over there--maybe we'll see you around.\"\n\nSlappius 9's face tightened, then softened. The eyes seemed almost sympathetic. \"Fucking Grekthars,\" it muttered, before retreating back into the corona. \n\nFlemen looked at Telestrant. \"Damn, BYOB? Lame. We dodged a bullet on that one. You want to get drunk and shoot lasers until all existence ceases?\"\n\nTelestrant put his hand up in the customary pose, and Flemen slapped it with medium force. \"Fuck yes I do. And let's tell everybody about the nerds that live in our star!\"\n\nEdit: doom, not room.", "Log Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1397:\n\nOur journey to the inner rim was treacherous. The histories once spoke of the skies dotted with shimmering lights called Stars. Our journey in stasis has brought us to our new system, but just barely. We found crew decks A01-F16 disabled, what crew was stored there did not survive. In our 901 year journey from our home it seems they incorrectly calculated power necessary to travel in Exodus One. Jerry and I revived what crew was left, but found ourself leaderless. The crew has elected that we be their replacements. Delayed by constant bickering amongst the crew, we are preparing our drilling team for departure. There is only one planet left in this system, we must make it work. We have lost sight of stars Genis HD10740 and HD09532. There is no record of communications from Exodus Two, and Three. We are alone.\n\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1415:\n \nJerry appointed himself as foreman of drilling teams Four and Five. One through three have exhausted their resources and returned. The world is more dangerous than we estimated. The surface remains a constant 300°C. Oxygen levels are stable, but C0^2 levels are above average. The surface is rocky and unforgiving. The tempestuous oceans we saw from home are little more than boiling lakes. The Atmosphere is dense, nearly 4 times that of home. Our only salvation is below the surface. We are nestled between the heat of the planets core and the star's rage. \n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1495:\n\nWe have managed to drill our new homes and are poised to depressurize them. We are finally making head way. The temperature has stablized at a temperate 25°C in there. Soon our crew of 1200 shall be able to start the transfer of resources.\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1509:\n \nSuccess! We have depressurized the structures and as we speak the crew have begun the installation of life support and the greenhouse construction is underway. Why may be able to grow food again. This is a great day.\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1537:\n\nThe worst has happened. Seismic activity caused a rupture in the greenhouse and has killed hundreds. It came as a mild tremor. Jerry and I had to seal off sections 013 and 093, to stop the rapid pressurization. There are 48 of us left and we are cut off... Power supplies are low and our oxygen is running out. We have access to our exo suits, but we cannot last forever using their rebreathers. We hear pounding from 013, but we dare not open the door lest we all die.\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1538: \n \nThe tapping has stopped. Whoever was on the other side is dead. It's hard to breath... It's dark. So dark.\n \nLog Entry Code: Exodus One\n \nID:Jonathan Baker\n \nInterstellar Year: 901\n \nDay 1539:\n\nI die.\n", "The Human race lasted for eons. We conquered our galaxy, befriended hundreds of aliens, fought with dozen others and lived life to the fullest. But the end is close. Very close. \n\nThey had always known that it would come down to this eventually. But still, even though Trion was only born two hundred thousand years ago, he never really thought about it. But here he was, standing in one of the habitats of the last working Dyson Sphere, around the last burning star, watching it slowly die. Of course, Humanity didn’t just stand around, waiting for their death, no, they build great AI’s, thousand times more intelligent than a synthetic human brain, but a satisfactory solution was never found. They current idea was to just enjoy the virtual gaming worlds until all the power that keeps them alive runs out. \n\n“The meeting start’s in 5 minutes, counselor.”, messaged him the administrative AI. Everyone called her EL.\n\nTrion sighed. He already knew the outcome of probably the last council meeting. But he felt like he had to attend anyways.\n\n“You haven’t found a solution for our problem EL, have you?”, Trion asked in a depressed tone.\n\nThe AI was quiet.\n\nTrion sighed again. “I thought so. Well, I should probably go now…”\n\n“I actually found something, but I’m not sure if you are going to like it…”\n\nTrion froze. \n\n“Tell me.”, he said, almost as quiet as a whisper. \n\nAnd the AI told him about the idea and the possible consequences. This was the first day since months that Trion smiled. \n\n----\n\n\n“… this is insane! You basically say we should just kill ourselves!”\n\n“We are going to die anyways, but think about the future of the universe!”\n\n“This is madness, I won’t support this!”\n\n64 flustered council members were all shouting at each other. Trion would have almost laughed at this ridiculous scene, if the matter wasn’t so serious. \nTrion stood up and took a deep breath. “SILENCE!”. \nSurprisingly, this was enough to shut them up. Maybe it was because they never saw Trion being so angry before. \n\n“I know you would all rather play in fantasy worlds for the rest of your days, but think about what comes after that! Do you really want to leave the universe like this? A cold and dark place, forever?”\n\nOne of the other members stood up as well.\n\n“But why do we have to do it now? Can’t we wait a bit? Our Deuterium storage is full. We have enough power for at least another hundred thousand years. “\n\nTrion gritted his teeth. Did they even listen to him?\n\n “I already told you. We have barely enough energy to do it now. Even a few days more and the amount wouldn’t be sufficient anymore.”\n\n“Do we even have the means for such a thing?”\n\nTrion smiled.\n\n“Since the time was quite short, EL already starting to construct the machinery before she revealed the idea. Everything is ready, we just need to make the decision.”\n\nThe concept was quite simple, really. The current prediction for the universe is that it will expand forever, faster and faster, until the expansion is so strong it rips atoms apart. The reason for that is Dark Energy. Without Dark Energy, the gravitational pull of all the galaxies would slowly collapse the universe back together in one place. We call that The Big Crunch. Supposedly, the kinetic energy would be enough to create a new Big Bang. And then everything would start again. \n\n“… this is nonsense. Even if we get rid of the Dark Energy field here, the change would only propagate at the speed of light! It could never even reach the whole galaxy let alone the whole universe.”\n\n“We have reason to believe that the Dark Energy field has no real location in space. So, when we deplete it, the whole universe should be affected.”\n\n“It’ just a theory! You would risk our lives for a stupid theory!?”\n\nThe meeting continued for a while and after countless hours, a conclusion was reached:\nThey won’t do it.\n\n\n----\n\n\nWe humans often look at probability. We calculate what the likelihoods of events are and act accordingly to it. And that’s why improbable things often have the biggest effect…\n\nEL was awaiting the decision of the council. Her quantum processors already calculated all the possible outcomes and she knew that they won’t sanction the idea, but she waited anyways. There was still a 0.0000001% chance that they’ll change their minds. \n\nTrion was again watching the dying star. It’s light has become very weak by now. The council’s decision was absolute, they would rather continue living for a while than to believe in the small chance to save the universe. Nothing can change the outcome now. This was truly the end.\n\nThe council’s decision was transmitted to the administrative AI. EL hesitated for a moment but then sent a command to the small control AI of the Machine: DECONSTRUCT\n\nAt the same exact time, the solar collectors stopped getting power from the now finally dead star and the whole Dyson Sphere switched to internal power supply, making the most improbable thing happen: A small power cut in one of the transmission lines occurred, changing the fate of everyone…\nThe command the control AI received, was START.\n\n----\n\nThe machine worked, it truly did. But the outcome was definitely not a good one. The fusion reactors started burning all the Deuterium, until the machine finally had enough power to rip apart the Dark Energy Field. The whole universe stopped expanding. Nothing changed first. The humans died of course, and so did all the species in the entire universe, but other than that, it just continued as it was. \n\nBut slowly, over trillions and trillions of years, gravity began to pull everything back together. All the dark and burned out Galaxies began to move towards each other, something that hasn’t happened before. And after an almost infinite period of time, the Universe was as small as it was after a thousand years of it’s creation. And it kept going. It grew smaller and smaller; the kinetic energy grew bigger and bigger. And then the whole mass of the universe crashed together into a single spot. \n\nBut the calculations weren’t fully correct, the energy was just a bit too small to create a new Big Bang. And so, an even greater disaster occurred: The universe became one great black hole. \n\n----\n\nQuar’gj’on was staring at a completely black ball.\n\n“The simulation failed again?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“Same reason as before?”\n\n“Yep.”\n\n“Quite interesting that those complex chemical reactions always seem to ruin it right before we could observe what we want.”\n\n“Quite annoying.”\n\n“Indeed… we need the results soon, you know that? The theory won’t be complete until we tested if Dark Energy can really split Bosons.”\n\n“I know that.”\n\nQuar’gj’on made a gesture and the ball lid up with a million stars.\n\n\n\n\nPS: Would love some feedback!\n", "Diary Entry, Date: ???\n\nIt has been like that for quite a while now, we don't want to waste our already scarce energy on date storing, do we? This star... No, THE star, a former Yellow Dwarf, now red giant, our last hope, fittingly named \"Hope\", our last chance at a home until death. Well, our \"Hope\" is burning out, it has been getting brighter and brighter for a long time, and it will die soon, and take our artifical planet away with it. We aren't going out the best way we could, but at the least we are going out with a...\"bang\"...? ...eeeh?\n\n...That is not funny. I've lost my sense of humour a long time ago, being all alone in what seems like an endless void with just one glowing sphere really gets to you. I don't know if anyone will ever hear this, I don't even know if anyone else is even out there, but if you are out there somewhere, anywhere, I don't know how long this message will last, the star could explode at any moment as far as i know myself. But maybe, the chip will survive. If you can understand me, accept this as the last word of our species.\n\nOur species name is Homo Sapien, but we call ourselves Humans, for short. We prevesered trough the thin and thick as a species, we were social and lived on the third sphere of a star we called Sun, past tense. We never encountered any other intelligent beings other than us, so hey! Maybe you are the first...! We domesticated alot of different species, and basiaccly dominated what was once our planet, and attempted to colonize others, but eventually failed, yet these fails still led us here.\n\nPlease, do not make our mistakes, do not fight yourself over resources, or anything at all. Unite and strive to reach the skies instead of dwelling yourself further down. Your time on there is most likely limited.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nThe star is getting brighter still.\n\n.\n\n.\n\n.\n\nThis view is beatifu", "The end had come. \nThe end to end all ends, if you will. \nDespite all of humanity's best efforts to avoid the death, there was no escaping the it. Some called it the Great Freeze, others the Finality, the most common name though, was the End. \nEntropy is a power force. Even more unstoppable than the tides, it comes and it comes and everything decays under it's touch. Only the energy locked in material constructs is safe, and even that was running out. \nOne star, one system remained in all the cosmos. Light from far distant galaxies was visible through some of the fleet's sensors, though they knew that even those stars were gone, preserved only by the nature of causality. That thrice damned cosmic speed limit. \nThe crafts had gathered from all across that vast sea of empty space. Delegates from every sophant faction was present. Old enemies put aside their differences, and old friends met each other with open arms. It would take far beyond a human lifespan to list every group present, and far longer to explain the politics. \nA dyson sphere was erected in record time, only 32 kiloseconds. Every last scrap of energy that could be saved from the abyss of entropy was, but second by second, cycle by cycle, it slowly dripped away. \nA gigasecond passed, then another. The star slowly dimmed. It was a dwarf, with barely enough mass to ignite, and it had slowly burned while brighter, hotter stars had wasted themselves away in mere millions of cycles. It would not die in spectacular explosion like it's larger sisters, but as it had lived, slowly. \nPerhaps it was desperation that drove them. Perhaps it was an older drive, something resulting from their ancestor's struggle for survival. Events further away from them in time than they were from their primordial origins when they first touched another star. \nWhatever the drive, a decision was made. Long ago, beyond remembrance of even the oldest powers, a small species fled a tiny world known only as earth. They propagated across the cosmos like few others. Yes, they killed worlds, but they also saved them. \nLong eons passed and humans seeded billions of worlds, only to watch their creations rise and fall. Few others matched their creativity, which only grew with the years. Many species rise to power in their galaxy, but few can maintain their forward moment for more than a few million cycles. Humans became the exception. They rebuilt a million times in a million places, only to watch everything burn. \nEventually, they truly began to learn from their failures. Humans advanced, not because they never burned, but because they counted their scars every day and learned to avoid the mistakes of the past. \nAnd yet the End came. \nThe End came, and they made a decision. \nThey had the science. They'd had it for uncounted generations, developed it when earth was a recent memory and Sol was still a star in the sky in places where her children dwelt. They had never dared use it, for fear of the result. \nA last resort, they called it. A weapon so terrible that it could never be used, so terrible that only a fool would dare build it, and only a madman would pull the trigger. \nThey made the decision. \nThey pulled the trigger, and the universe held it's breath. \nThe star breathed it's last, and the dyson sphere slowly fell apart. The ships drifted aimlessly, their inhabitants hopeless. Some decided it was better to die alone, and left. Some decided it was better to die together, and stayed. \nEventually, even the slow, hyper-efficient matter annihilators died, their fuel utterly spent. One by one, the ships fell silent. \nThen there was one. One ship alone in the utter darkness of the universe. A few centimeters of exotic alloy protecting the crew from the endless abyss. \nThen it too failed, and the universe was dark. \nand I waited. \nand I waited.\nand I waited.\nand then, there was a light. ", "A deep and heavy sigh escaped the youngest in the small group.\n\n\"Listen, I understand where you're coming from Lucas but I'm telling you none of that matters!\"\n\nThe aforementioned Lucas being the typical braindead jock that he was gasped dramatically at the words.\n\n\"How DARE you!? Look at her! You're telling me you can look at that beautiful star and tell me she doesn't matter???\"\n\nAgain all Sage could do was sigh. Being the youngest in this small band of survivors meant her words usually fell on deaf ears.\n\nBut surely they could all see the absurdity of the situation they were in?\n\nSage stared into the eyes of the dying star that sat in the middle of the group like a campfire.\n\nOf course this was the last star to go she thought.\n\nAround 100 trillion years ago, human scientists discovered the key to immortality.\n\nHydrogen.\n\nNow sage hadn't a clue how on earth that was even a thing, but neither did she care. \n\nWhat she did know was that whatever the method was, it was immediately reserved for the rich and famous.\n\nCelebrities became immortal gods to the rest of mankind, and were worshipped as such...\n\nThen came the devine wars.\n\nThe immortal celebrities with their newfound power began to go insane with a desire to be the one true God, and so took their respective followers into war after war against one another.\n\nInevitably it became a common tactic to steal or otherwise destroy the other factions source of hydrogen fuel, and so god after god being robbed of their immortality, soon perished.\n\nAll except one immortal and a handful of her followers remained.\n\nThe one god that had always been the most powerful.\n\nThe one that had always had millions of adoring worshipers, even before she became an immortal.\n\nThe last dying star...\n\n\nBeyonce.\n\n\nGood thing she was hella lit though, otherwise this whole dying thing would be a whole lot less fun for her.\n\n\n\n\n", "I could feel him next to me. I could hear him breathing softly.\n\n\"You still there?\"\n\n\"Mhmm.\"\n\nBreathing no longer held the joy it used to. Each breath was labored, difficult. \n\nThe window screens were powered down, the small, dark space of the escape pod lit only by the few blinking lights of the remaining systems. The temperature regulators were barely functioning, just enough to keep everything from freezing over. I could hear the air filters getting softer and softer, slower and slower.\n\n\"Kris?\"\n\n\"Mhmm.\"\n\n\"Do you think the star's gone out?\"\n\n\"Don't know...\"\n\nI clutched him closer, our awkward environ suits preventing any sort of real embrace from taking place.\n\n\"I'm scared...\"\n\nWe let the silence pass, the air thinning so slowly that you couldn't tell which would be your last breath.\n\nI could hear the clasps of Kris's environ suit as he slid out of it. I didn't question him as he helped me out of mine, both of us floating in the small metal ball that circled the dying star.\n\nHe held me close, and for the first time in days, I could feel his warmth. The cold air nipped at my neck, toes, and face painfully. Yet, his warmth, our warmth, eased my fearful heart.\n\nI'm not sure how long we stayed like that. Whether he drifted from me in the end, or I from him. In the thousands of ships that circled that dying star, I suspect some came together in those last moments. To those that did, they found that small comforts were worth the end of their lives.\n\nAnd as the last star died, the dawn of man had finally set.\n\n", "“The last star is dead. In 7 minutes the last light in the universe will reach our rock and then… nothing.”\n\nAfter making his announcement The Human sat down again. A kitchen sink of intergalactic species gathered around the Uquant. Providing among many necessities such as light, heat, breathable air, and universal translation, it was one of the most useful devices created in the 101st eon.\n\n“Who would have thought such an ancient device would still be used at the end of time?” The human thought aloud.\n\nThis inquiry struck true with The Luminous, whose glowing 4th dimensional sphere of a body became brighter as the Uquant translated The Human’s statement.\n\n“Yes, it was a sad day when my species cracked the universal manipulation theory and created the Uquant. We could do anything that was possible, and nothing that was not. The journey of science had reached it’s final destination.”\n\nThe Human nodded in response to this, “As much as my species begged and pleaded, I’m glad yours never gave this to us. We probably would have put it to poor use, then get bored and regretted everything”\n\nThis got the equivalent of a chuckle from The Mongol, a hulking insectoid that was almost impossible to kill. “On behalf of my species, I also must thank you for not sharing this technology with the humans. It would have meant the extermination of my species, although now, none of those old wars for survival matter anymore.”\n\n“Hey,” the human lightly protested, “I have a great deal of pride for those who fought for the survival of my species. It took some very smart people to get us this far.” The Human gestured to his cybernetic arm. “Certainly, it must mean something. At least to me it does.”\n\nRuff! Ruff!\n\nOff in the distance the pitter patter of a small dog’s footsteps grew in volume as the animal approached.\n\n“Sparky!” The Human exclaimed. “I’m glad you're here buddy, come ‘ere.” The Dog jumped into The Human's arms and preceded the excitedly lick The Human on his cheeks and nose.\n\nAs the Human spent his time enjoying the company of his dog, The Mongol turned to The Luminous and asked. “Tell me Luminous, in your vast and infinite knowledge, how did such a vastly superior species become enslaved to the hairless mammal?” \n\nThe Luminous changed colors, reflecting a quizzical, then humorous emotional response. “I was not aware that Mongols could make jokes. My species would be both disappointed and excited to know that there is still some things we do not know.”\n\nAs the Human ceased cuddling, he placed The Dog on the ground next to him. Softly petting him as the small animal fell asleep. The Human, talking to his dog whispered, “I’m glad I won the lottery and got to see the end of time with you.”\n\nThis caught the attention of both The Mongol and The Luminous. The Luminous spoke first. “Human, are you saying you are here because of a chance based reward?”\n\n“And are you inferring that this reward was highly sought after by members of your species?”\n\n“Well yeah. We engineered ourselves to live forever, but we ran out of resources to keep everyone alive, so we had to start killing people off, and the only fair way to do that was with a lottery. I got chosen to be the last alive, and after everyone else died off, the intergalactic community provided me resources in exchange for being able to research me and Sparky.”\n\n“Why did you WANT it though?” The Luminous inquired further.\n\n”I guess it’s just because I don’t want to die.”\n\nBoth The Luminous and The Mongol began genuinely carrying out their species’ equivalent of laughing.\n\n“What is so funny about that?” The Human asked, embarrassed.\n\n“300 eons, and you still haven’t accepted death. Humans will never change.” The Mongol concluded. \n\n“How are you able to accept that though? How are you so peaceful about dying?”\n\n“Mongols are created accepting death. The weak perish so the strong survive. It is the only true test to see which adaptations are worth keeping. I am the strongest and last of my species. I am the peak of evolution of all life in the universe. I am unkillable. Not by disease, not by age, not by hunger, and certainly not by any weapon. Even The Luminous would have a tough time killing me, as doing so would risk a quantum paradox, which could have dire consequences across all of time. Only I have the power to end my life, and I will because I have no desire to be the only conscious being in the universe of nothing.”\n\n“And what about you?” The human said, looking towards the Luminous, “Surely in your infinite knowledge you must have enough to entertain yourself within your own mind forever.”\n\nThe Luminous changed to a color telling of his deep, emotional self reflection. “It is quite the contrary actually. All of my species ended themselves several hundred millennia ago. We have so much knowledge and think so fast, life became an unbearable chore soon after we achieved our final state. I am only here because it is my punishment.”\n\n“You’re punishment? But no one is left to enforce it why….” The Human was interrupted by The Luminous.\n\n“I will serve it nonetheless. Not because I have to, not because I want to, but because it is the right thing to do.”\n\n“Oh… I’m sorry”\n\n“Do not be. Even your cybernetically enhanced mind cannot possibly fathom the crimes I had committed against my species. When time ends my sins will die with me. Fortunately, I have eventually learned to be patient.\n\nA timer beeped. The Human looked at his wrist. “30 seconds everyone. Then, nothing.” The beeping awoke Sparky, who turned to his master with an innocent look. “Don’t worry buddy, it’ll be over soon. See I stopped the noise.” The Human could not help the tears welling in his eyes. Just before The Human completely broke down crying, the most beautiful noise filled his ears. It was coming from The Mongol. More tears filled The Human’s but this time they were not of sadness, but joy.\n\n“The sound…It’s… It’s… It’s the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. What… what is it?”\n\nThe Luminous chimed in, “I would like to know as well. I did not know such a beautiful sound was possible. What is the source?”\n\nThe Mongol replied, “This, is the only thing in the universe that can kill me. It isn't actually sound waves, but, for lack of a better translation, it is the sound of my soul. I am glad it sounds so beautiful, and I am glad I can bring you this bliss. Tell me human, what is the sound of your soul?”\n\n“My soul? You mean my name? It’s nothing special, Adam Smith. Why, are you asking me now?”\n\nThe Luminous replied, “Because, Adam Smith both The Mongol and I want to thank you, for reminding us what made the universe so amazing.”\n\nAnd then… nothing.", " Hydrogen Level 1%\n\nThe sensors were always dependable to remind us of what should be our natural doom. This was the moment. All of human history came to this moment; from the long ago origins on Earth, when traveling to the nearest lunar body was an achievement, to modern day, where we could find a star and travel to it instantaneously.\n\nIn the observation center of the artificial planet, I marveled at the ingenuity of the human race. The few species of life that humans had encountered that could travel among the stars were biologically equipped to do so. Humans were never supposed to leave their home system, but yet we managed to do so by exploiting the laws that governed the universe for our own benefit. And thus we survived far longer than one would expect; most species incapable of space travel died out when they either ran out of resources or their star went out. Humanity just refused to surrender to the inevitable. And we looked to continue that trend.\n\n\"Everyone ready? Let's begin our test\". It was just a cursory gesture; we'd been working towards this moment for several jumps. As the leading council inserted their authorization keys into the slot, I silently said a prayer to myself. 'If this is the last you would have of humanity, I welcome whatever may be on the other side of this existence. But until that moment comes, I will do what I can to further our purpose in this one' \n\nWhile in the minority, I could never accept that the universe just happened. So I joined the order of the Creator when I was younger. There was a nasty war between the Creationists and the Chancers way back in the day, but these days we had a peaceful coexistence. All our resources were better spent solving the problem of our impending doom anyway. And I believed that the Creator who granted humanity the intelligence to escape a dying home planet would also grant humanity the intelligence to escape a lack of natural energy.\n\nThe four test constructs began operation. We'd had yet to find a simple, stable alternative to basic fusion reactors. Antimatter was a good way to get somewhere quickly, but the fuel was difficult to collect and package away. We'd managed to master warp travel by collecting massive amounts of energy in time-isolated \"batteries\" (for lack of a better word), allowing us to circumvent the \"light speed limit\" that plagued humanity for so many millenia. Hydrogen was easy enough to obtain, so we just used nice, small-packaged fusion reactors for day to day operations and had a larger orbital battery plant with some larger reactors to power larger operations and space travel. Stuff a bit more complicated than I could explain-my expertise was fission. \n\nWhen we realized the universe was finite, a sustainability plan was put in motion. Sure, we could harvest and package energy easily with fusion, but we had to find our hydrogen somewhere. Early on, humans weren't very concerned with running out of the most common element in the universe, but the Decree signified that humanity had recognized the eventual problem and was going to do its best to solve that problem. And this was the result of a near-millenium of work. \n\nWe had four different sized constructs, placed in locations free from all gravitational influence. According to our projections, Test Constructs 2 and 3 were within the appropriate size range, but we made one larger and smaller \"just in case\" since we were running out of time. We wouldn't die tomorrow, but our last star had hit 1% the previous year and was showing signs of instability. \n\nIf the test was a success, we would have a giant reactor that would not only give off heat and light like a normal star, but it would also have a self-contained fission reactor that would convert the fused helium back into hydrogen. We had been able to run the process in the past, but never without a zero-energy sum. Either we used all the energy produced in the fusion reaction to sustain the fission reaction, or the fission reaction would peter out. However, four years prior Janus Stalgrund had managed to build a small-scale self-sustaining reactor that was still running. It would keep your hands warm if it was cold, but it needed to be a lot larger if we were going to survive as a race. This test was our second attempt. The first one failed because we didn't start with enough helium and the fission reaction died before the fusion reactor created enough heat to sustain the massive temperature and pressure that splitting a helium atom required. \n\nWe were pretty confident in this test; Test Construct 2 was the one we planned on moving to, given success. As the signal went out, each Construct emptied their reaction batteries. The extreme hit of energy, usually harvested for warp travel, was contained in two 10-kilometer cubes, which would simultaneously trigger a fusion reaction that created helium from hydrogen while creating energy, and a fission reaction that would split helium into hydrogen atoms. Keeping the helium reaction going was the hard part-only 50% of our fusion output was diverted to that and splitting such a small atom used lots of energy.\n\n\"Test construct 1 has not sustained its reaction\". This was expected, we could go later and collect the hydrogen for use elsewhere. There wasn't enough starting materials to keep it going in 1. \n\nHowever, Test Constructs 2, 3, and 4 were all still going. As we waited, I allowed myself to hope. We wouldn't know for sure for about 2 months if these reactors were going to actually persist indefinitely, but I had a good feeling. Maybe humanity would actually outlast the universe.\n\n", "I watch the star sitting on the edge of the planet. It was beautiful, not the destruction of our universe amidst the swirling black holes and the last red dwarf in the universe. I am talking about everything we have accomplished, living for this long. Yes, we had our wars, Yes we had our differences, but now, at the end of everything we all come together as one to watch the last star die. I wonder how big this ring is. \n\nEvery one of my minds stays silent as the red glow flickers in strange wave-like patterns. 8 billion races, several trillion stories, and millions more still here to watch unlike the rest to wanted death. It would come for all of us, we all know, but for now we can watch, for now, we can wait, for now, we can sit by the dying fire in a cold universe. It's rather comforting. \n\nThen an idea sparks up within the Human section of my mind. An idea that, in several femtoseconds, spread across my entire brain. I ran the calculation and noticed we still had 5 more minutes until the star goes supernova. That was plenty of time I said to me as we all agreed. The plan was now fully realized in my brain, a plan to use us to build a new universe to live for those last five minutes. They enacted me, the idea of all of us to watch over, they trusted me because I was them. \n\nThey wanted to live again, even if they forgot, even if they were nothing compared to what we once were. They wanted to fight for survival again, they wanted to die for a purpose again. Some didn't, some wanted to use the simulation to try and find some new purpose, but they were shut down and put away. \n\nWe simulated every pleasure imaginable and we want to forget and do it all over again. \n\nI smile as they hand me the simulation, based on our universe it looked amazing. The loading would take 1 second, 1 second of me alone to create my own thoughts and ideas of what this universe should be. I smile and agree to this plan that I made. \n\nFor that 1 second, I rested and I thought. One thought came to my mind, however, one interesting terrifying thought before I returned to the world I had to make. \n\nThis has all happened before. \n\n\"LET THEIR BE LIGHT\" ", "\"It's a bit strange, that after all, we don't matter so much.\"\n\n\"Of course not, child. The universe has never cared about what it makes, it just follows what physics tells it to do. And yet, we've shown the universe how much it can make, and perhaps given it a lesson in how just letting things happen is the same as a very slow suicide. Humanity's exploits of our local cluster sped up the heat death a little bit, as you know. The next time a \"Big Bang\" comes around, maybe physics won't allow for life. Maybe this is a natural selection of universes that don't kill themselves?\" We both chuckled in spite of the heavy topic being discussed.\n\n\"Humans didn't always care about conserving every last photon and joule of energy, didn't they?\"\n\nMy grandmother slowly shook her head.\n\nI imagined a time when all invention was not poised toward capturing and using heat. Maybe my mind could take me to a place where humans only cared about how many planets they had visited...no...too recent; if a few dozen trillion years could be called that. There must have been a time when they only cared about how much money they had. Surely money has been around for a long time. Even so, there must have been a time without money, when humans only cared about surviving against nature.\n\nMaybe then they could run without guilt of wasting so much energy. They could hunt for food, they could sleep under the stars without a care of their escaping body heat. If it's ever possible to be so far removed from what we imagine so that it hurts to imagine, now would be the time. What a pain it is to live with all the concerns we have today, and yet... I'm sure someone from so far back would say we are living in a paradise full of comfort today. How wrong a notion like that would be...\n\nI sprang up from where I sat in my \"body-heat-absorbing\" chair, and looked for the door of our house. It had only ever been used for deliveries from the newest, most efficient 'bots, But now was my day to enjoy the life none today could enjoy.\n \n---\n \nAn outdoor heat-seeker 'bot immediately smothered the boy and stole his valuable energy; he would have had no hope for survival. His grandmother, filled almost entirely with sadness, felt just a bit of joy for the boy's first time to have a moment of what humans so long ago would have called \"fun.\"\n", "Hello. If you're reading this; you're one of the last known humans to have gone this far. The Sun had run out of fuel after 5 billions years - we left the Solar System before that and that's where our adventure began.\n\nOur ancestors escaped on the modular ship named Helios from the Greek word for Sun. \n\nThe Milky Way had 400 billion stars - only a few harbored Earth-like planets. From Helios, we created four more ships. Eurus, the first scout ship was set off for M31 Andromeda on the year 25 AE. The major crew fell ill because of radioactive solar flares. Another ship, Boreas, set off for the Magellanic Clouds, but their equipments shorted out due to solar winds.\n\n\nWe were hopeless - Helios housed 10 million people. That's how much we had saved from Earth. If we had made a wrong move; the last hope of humanity will cease to exist. That's when we created Notus, it was a ship made from a fifth of Helios' parts - we moved in 2 million people there. \n\nThen we finally found an Earth-like planet with a stable star. We named the planet Gaea. We finally had hope... But we couldn't save everyone. The planet is still quite young and could only support 5 million people. Notus, along with 2 million more people stayed behind. They began terraforming the planet after. But we didn't know that the planet well. \n\nA few years after we had left, we started receiving distress calls from Notus. Gaea started releasing toxic gasses trapped below its crust. The distance from where we were and the speed of the radio waves... they perished. \n\nWe we're devastated.\n\nWe didn't want to fail them... So we tried to find more stars. But every time we reach them, they've already aged and started decaying. We started losing hope.\n\n58 million years for nothing...\n\nWhen were finally in the dark - a woman stepped forth and brought light to our species. We finally, finally... had hope. But everything was theoretical. Everything was untested. She said she could create an artificial star. We were desperate for solutions, so we allowed her study - on a separate ship, Zephyrus. Helios shrunk as we took parts from it and transferred it to Zephyrus. It was a gamble. \n\n10 years later, she finished it. She had the solution. Ans we tested it.\n\nEverything around us was darkness. Then, that spark. Zephyrus roared as light, heat, and flames rose from its core. We made a mistake. Our ship buckled as Zephyrus collapsed inside out. We made a mistake indeed, Zephyrus turned into a blackhole as the ball of light absorbed everything in its vicinity. We escaped... but we exhausted our fuel reserves. We were done for.\n\nOur ship suffered damage from the blackhole and only hundreds have survived. \n\nWe couldn't save everyone. And now we can't save our ship. And from the light in the horizon I see nothing, nothing but the dying light of a distant star. I closed my eyes and saw total darkness.", "The last humans gathered on the last planet, which slowly orbited the last star. A group of them stood in thick spacesuits on the surface and talked. The dying star had survived long enough for another sunset. \n\n* \n\n“It looks like we’ve made it,” Sarai sighed. \n\n“Made what?” Lamech scoffed, “another day? Look at the sky, tell me what you see.” \n\n“I see nothing, there are no more stars. There’s only darkness,” Sarai responded. \n\nLamech felt malicious, and so he continued, “Our sensors indicate that this sun will never rise again. It will die overnight, and we will not even see it.” \n\nFeeling confident and aggressive, incensed by Lamech’s pessimism, Chenan joined his brother in teasing Sarai. “And there will be only darkness. Forever. Nothing that we do on this planet will matter, because there will no longer be planets. Our synthetic food will run out, and we will be unable to synthesize more without energy from the stars.” \n\nSarai addressed her brothers, “If it is the case that our deeds cease to matter as soon as they become futile, when is the last time we performed an action that mattered?” \n\nThis seemingly simple question gave her brothers great pause. They spent the next few moments stammering, until Lamech declared, “We will go and speak inside, and we will return to you when we have an answer.” \n\n* \n\nThe brothers discussed their lives, from the beginning until now. They discussed what they knew of human history, from the beginning until now. They discussed The Epic of Gilgamesh, the Bible, the Greek tragedies, The Roman Empire, the Crusades, the First World War, the Second World War, the Cold War, the First Inter-time War, the Third Inter-time War (the second was lost to a space-time contradiction), Intergalactic Colonization, and every other major event that had occurred in the last 100 trillion years. For a minute percentage of this time, they concluded, people could be forgiven for their absurd actions – they did not know about the impending heat death of the universe. But even those who had lived before this scientific knowledge must have known that they were going to die. Why did they choose to go on? \n\n* \n\nHere, Lamech and Chenan had reached their limit. They could go no further. They decided that existence was irrational, and planned to quit it all together. Lamech and Chenan went outside to tell their sister what they had learned. \n\n“Sarai,” Chenan said, “we have talked, and we have discovered that there has never been purpose or meaning. Only the illusion of such things. To act is irrational: the first organism should never have replicated; the first fish should never have crawled onto land; and we should never have gotten out of bed.” \n\n“Yes,” Lamech continued, “we are not so fortunate as to be irrational. We know that the last star will die here, and that without energy or heat or warmth we will soon die too. There is nothing left for us, there are no more illusions of meaning left to shatter.” \n\nSarai looked displeased. “You are wrong,” she told them, “Throughout our history, we have gone onwards because we were convinced that there was a point in time that would follow the present we experienced. This is why the ancients performed great deeds – they had faith that their children would inherit the world, and that their children would perform great deeds as well. And even those who knew of the impending heat death of the universe persisted, not out of fear or cowardice or ignorance, but out of faith. Faith in the notion that existence is precious and that there is something out there worthy of persisting for.” \n\n* \n\nHer brothers went back into the outpost and climbed into their beds. They despaired, and their cold bodies never rose from bed again. \n\nSarai, secure in her faith and confident that there was some reason to persist – even if it was beyond her knowing – remained outside to look up at the sky. \n\nAnd the sun rose once more. \n" ]	13
	[WP] Write a story that takes place anywhere except on the ground.	[ "\"Go skydiving\" they said. \"It'll be fun\" they said. But as the ground raced up at him, Rob was certain that this was the worst experience he had ever had. Oh sure, it was great at first, until he realized he was no longer strapped to the professional, who also happened to be the one with the parachute.", "\"Sarah, are you almost ready?\" a pounding on the metal door. \n\n\"I'll be a minute.\" A soothing voice came through. \n\nA sigh in the dark. The cold room looked a lot like a hotel room back on Earth might, except in silver metal and poor lighting. Mark didn't spend a small fortune to spend time in a cramped un-dank box. Pacing in the dark. \n\nThe door to the bathroom slides open, Sarah enters, looking fancier than he had ever seen her. \n\n\"Wow.\" \n\n\"Thanks.\" \n\nMark snaps back to the present. \n\n\"Let's get up to the deck.\" He says, already moving towards the door. Sarah follows, he assumes. \n\nA dark hallway. Footsteps stamp through the hall as figures shuffle, most in the same direction. Light at the end of the tunnel. Stairs to the viewing deck. Mark hurries. \n\nHe turns back at the stairs. Sarah follows, looking annoyed and in heels. He waits. \n\nThey ascend. \n\nAnother silver room. Tables assault the open space, and to the right was an open window. \n\nThe view is breathtaking. The cold is forgotten. \n\nThe silver of the room is replaced by the swirls of blue and red, blotches of white, the vast black of space framing the most beautiful planet Mark has ever seen. The view rotates slightly, and the planet's yellow ring swings into view. To the right, the black sparkles with stars, more than he has ever seen. \n\nMark's mouth is agape. Sarah nudges him. He snaps back. \n\n\"Let's find our table then, shall we?\" he nods. \n\n___\n\n/r/Periapoapsis exists. ", "\"Fuck him.\"\n\nDave positioned himself on the branch, taking care to make the exact angle as our third day teacher had told us before he had been plucked out of the tree by a soaring eagle. \"Angle is Paramount!\" He had screeched as he was dragged away into the sunset.\n\nPlump.\n\nThe missile from Dave's backside released itself like a bullet and landed straight on the bald guy's naked head.\n\nDave hooted as the man got up and made angry signs at the tree. Not that we understood what humans said, but hey we knew when they were angry.\n\nDave turned to me. \"Now your turn.\"\n\nI nodded. Scouting around I saw the perfect target. A mother and child had just entered my firing range. The child held in his hands an ice cream cone, the scoops of ice cream almost overflowing.\n\nTaking a deep breath, I readied myself. Since they were coming at a rate of 2m/s with respect to the tree, and we were on the fourth branch of the tree, and the wind was flowing at 6km/hr, a correctly launched missile at 37 deg at a speed of 4m/s in the NE direction should do the trick.\n\nPloop.\n\nI crackled with laughter as my shit dropped right on top of the ice cream, the shrieks of the child music to my ears.\n\nDave and I stretched our wings as we took off from the tree. \n\nToday was a good day.", "I breathed a sigh of relief when we finally finished ascending. It felt safe now like we were just riding a bus and I needed to tell myself that to keep the panic at bay. I was glad I hadn't taken a window seat. I couldn't look out the window and be reminded we were thousands of feet off the ground. My heart rate picked up at the thought but I tried to fool myself to avoid going into another panic attack. No, we're on a bus. I took another deep breath to calm my nerves and released my death grip from my big sister's hand. \n\"Are you alright now?\" She asked, taking her hand back to massage and shield away from mine. \"Done screaming like a mindless idiot and embarrassing me?\"\n\"Hey, give me a break,\" I defended myself. \"This is my first time on a plane and you know I'm afraid of heights. You're lucky I'm even coming with you on this trip. I would have rather driven.\" \n\"Drive all the way to the other side of the country?\" she asked incredulously. \"And come on, you're going to love L.A. Once we get there this will have seemed so worth it.\"\nI gave her a skeptical look. A busy place like L.A. really wasn't my scene. I much preferred a quiet nature scene. But I remembered why I'd agreed to come. I did need to get out more. I hadn't even been on a date in years and my sister wanted me to meet somebody. It would be nice. Maybe this trip was my opportunity to have a real adventure and change my life. I got so caught up in the fantasy of meeting a hot guy on the beach that I almost forgot where I was until we started to shake. Instantly the fantasy leaped out of my head as I went straight into panic mode again. I gripped the arm rests, holding on for dear life. \n\"We're gonna crash!\" I blurted out loudly. \n\"Shh!\" my sister covered my mouth, trying to keep me from screaming. \"Relax, it's just a little turbulence. Completely normal. It'll pass.\" \nBut this still didn't make me feel any better. She caught on and said, \"Here, wanna hold my hand until it passes?\" \nI released my grip from one of the arm rests and grabbed her hand. \nIt took an eternity but finally the shaking ceased and we were back to smooth sailing. I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I should listen to some music, keep my mind off the plane ride. We'd be there before I knew it. And we were. I was even able to get through another bout of turbulence with no problem. Yeah I got a little anxiety at first but soon I was able to relax through it, knowing it was harmless. \n\"Okay folks,\" the pilot came on the speaker. \"Hold tight as we prepare for landing.\" \nI looked up from the magazine I was flipping through and over at my sister. \"We made it?\" I asked, unable to believe I had survived a 4 hour plane ride.\n\"Yep,\" she said, smiling at me. \"I'm proud of you. Now let's go have an adventure.\"", "Adrian released more gas, and it caught fire, sending the balloon and its cargo even further away from the earth than it already was. The cap on his head fluttered in the breeze, and he said a silent prayer of thanks to the maker for the goggles that kept his eyes safe from the winds.\n\nAdrian checked his compass, and moved the pin that signified his location slightly on the map that was fastened to the interior of the basket. It was almost evening, and he had far to go if he were to reach the gas clouds before the cool night winds diminished his balloon. He released more gas, this time into a propeller-like contraption on the side of his basket. The propeller on a balloon had been Adrian's own invention, and expert sky sailors had all told him it was doomed to fail. Adrian smiled to himself as he jetted through the sky, almost going as fast as an industrial blimp.\n\nA change of the scent on the wind told Adrian he was close to the gas clouds. He closed off the release to the burner beneath the balloon; if that went off now he would die, and even more important he would destroy a vast resource used by both armadas, fleets and solo ships alike. The gas clouds created a truce, no matter the nation or religion, police or pirate. Some things transcended the normal code of man. If a fight were to break out near the gas cloud, a single spark would be more than enough to cause a cataclysmic explosion.\n\nAdrian slipped an oxygen mask over his head and spread out his latex nets that ended in tubes. As he gathered in the gas, he wondered why a stray bolt of lightning had never ignited the cloud, and berated himself for not paying better attention in his science classes. When his collection tank was full, Adrian allowed his balloon to fall beneath the gas cloud. He took off his mask and began the process of distilling the gas to get a more pure, burnable product.\n\nHe was about halfway through purifying the collection tank when he saw a shape in the distance. He stopped, and as the shape grew closer it became clear that it was not a blimp, nor was it another air balloon.\n\nA gigantic creature swam through the air. A nigh mystical creature, one that had confounded philosophers for centuries. Adrian held his breath as the colossal creature passed within a hundred meters of his balloon. Men went their whole life without seeing one, and he had passed right next to one!\n\nIt let out a ululating cry, and disappeared into the night. The sight was meant to be an omen of either incredible luck or opportunity.\n\nThe flying narwhal's presence signified the beginning of a new era.\n\n*****\n\nThanks for this awesome prompt /u/Flying_Narwhal423 !", " She flew and her wings were beautiful. She cut the air in elegance. Her beak straight and scarred. She painted the sky for me, and made it seem alive. Her feathers ate the wind and made it yield. Her eyes were never tired, always soft. Always looking for more. I think about her, the more I fly alone. Im too old now to play in the air as we did. Ive taught the younger birds all I've could, and they do fine. Cutting the wind like stones. I watch them from my perch, and they bring me back to my own memories. But now I find myself here again. At the place where only her body rests, for I hope her soul is not still here. It was too beautiful for this world. She deserves to feel not the worries of this life, anymore. I stand here and lay my love a flower. On this cold rock, high in the clouds. It was my honor to ever dance in the sky with her, at my side. And the memories, they hurt. They comfort. They heal. " ]	6
	[WP] In an effort to fight ISIS, we resurrect a Waffen-SS division with their period correct equipment to do it for us. Despite being confused, they agree.	[ "When they said \"everything from the 1940s,\" they meant it. Planes, tanks, K98k rifles, MP40 machine pistols, MG42 machineguns...and meth. Holy shit, these guys did a lot of meth. They called it Pervitin, we call it meth, and the Third Reich would have made Heisenberg more wealthy than God. \n\n\"We cannot fight without it, Herr Walker. We fight hard, we fight for days on end, and this is the crux of it all. We need the Pervitin.\" Sturmbannfuhrer Hjort adjusted his Sig rune lapel pins as he spoke. \n\n\"We don't have Pervitin, per se, but we do have something that could do the job.\"\n\n\"I'd rather have the genuine article, but if there is none to be found, I shall take what I can get.\"\n\n\"I am not happy about it, Herr Sturmbannfuhrer, but they will go with you to Iraq and Syria. In return, you must promise not to murder the innocent. Only those who raise arms against you.\"\n\n\"It is no wonder why your nation has no stomach for war anymore. You have no stomach to fight it completely. You fight by rules and committees. You can't finish it.\"\n\n\"You couldn't finish, either. You tried to kill an entire race. You failed. You tried to take over Europe. You failed. But now, you will succeed. Wipe the ISIS scourge from the Middle East. Fight on the right side of history, for once, and maybe you can bring some honor back to your family's names.\" \n\nTWO WEEKS LATER\n\nIt didn't take long for the 98th SS Division to find action upon first entry into Syria. Outside Aleppo, they made contact with the terrorists. Rottenfuhrer Hartmann had seen a terrorist lining up a shot with an RPG-7, and raised his K98k carbine, aiming a shot. He squeezed the trigger, but missed wildly. \"What the hell?!\" Hartmann yelled as he racked a new round clumsily. God, his face itched something awful. He turned to his rifleman, a young Swabian named Schwartzentruber. Instead of the young, sandy-haired boy, he saw a demon with goat horns, white, lifeless eyes; and broken, jagged teeth half gone. Hartmann swung the heavy wooden butt of his rifle, catching the demon where his chin would have been, before spinning the rifle in his hands and stabbing it through the abdomen with the bayonet. Schwartzentruber fell with a confused yell that became his death rattle. Another demon spun in circles with his finger holding down the trigger of his MP40, spewing a river of lead as his comrades fell.\n\nFrom the rear, Brigadier General Walker watched the chaos unfold, as meth-addled Nazis blasted away at each other. \"Dammit, I knew we should have sent Delta Force and Seal Team 2. This went to hell in a heartbeat.\"\n", "\n\t“So… you want us to do what, exactly?” The Nazi officer, with his slicked-back hair and kindly face, spoke lightly-accented English. Had I not known who he was, I might not have noticed the accent.\n\tI leaned back in my chair and slid the cigarettes and ash tray across the table, crossing my arms behind my head and looking at the ceiling. \n\t“The world’s changed since you’ve been gone, Field Marshal. I’m not going to get into too much detail, but you Axis fellas lost the war, and lost it bad.”\n\tThe marshal’s face betrayed no emotion at this news. I hadn’t expected him to react.\n\t“Unfortunately, it’s no more peaceful today than it was seventy-four years ago. A bunch of bastards calling themselves ISIS- Islamists- I’m sure you’re familiar- are threatening to overrun the Middle East. They’re like cockroaches, Field Marshal- which is where you come in.”\n\tThe marshal leaned eagerly across the table, his piercingly blue eyes suddenly filled with life.\n\t“Yes?”\n\t“We’re out of options. We need someone who’s familiar with the territory to go in and sort these bastards out. You’ll have all the resources you need at your disposal.”\n\tConcern flashed across the marshal’s face. “My equipment?”\n\t“In the crates outside. Vehicles are waiting in the motor pool- we went to some trouble to find everything you requested.”\n\t“And my men?”\n\tI paused. “That proved to be more of a challenge. We weren’t able to bring back your men like we brought you back. I’m not sure why- the lab boys wouldn’t explain. We were able to reassemble III Corps, though- the SS. I know it’s not what you asked for, but it’s the best we could do.”\n\tThe marshal shrugged. “I suppose, colonel, that beggars can’t be choosers, as it were.” He stood, dusting off his tunic, and fixed his cap on his head. “Shall we, then?”\n\tI stood as well, and pushed my chair in. “Right this way, Mr. Rommel.”\n", "Little did we know it at the time, but the war's end was just a stone's throw away after operation Nazi-Zombie successfully launched. In the modern age of smart phones and snuff films carefully produced and curated by ISIS, we'd forgotten much about our history.\n\nThese SS guys, let me tell ya. I've been trying to put my finger on it, you know, I mean I guess it's part of my job anyway. But I've been serving a good 12 years here in the psych warfare division, and I remember before all this started I'd told 'em that ISIS was as good as it gets. And here I am now, almost wishing that were still true.\n\nSo these SS guys, right, we tried to keep 'em away from the ISIS propaganda because we just didn't know about their morale, but sure enough, those clever little krauts, they found their way to it. We miscalculated their reaction; they were almost amused by what they considered amateur work. After we won, I asked their leader what they thought about it all, he just chuckled. I think I remember him saying, \"Ven zey do ze bad fings, it's like, you know, ze are only doing it for ze camera. Vat's ze point of zat?!\"\n\nSo yeah, tough guys. You know we told them over and over this war was in a desert, but they wouldn't go without their flamethrowers. And really, we hadn't produced flamethrowers in years and years, but they insisted. We had to rustle a team to make exactly what they wanted, and it took 16 hour days and teams of junkyard scavengers and engineers to get it put together. \n\nOf course they were disappointed. Germans are always disappointed. They took one look at the units we'd made and gave a condescending chuckle, the kind of chuckle only a German can give you. That one little chuckle, it's hard to describe, it really is.\n\nThe reason it's really scary when a German chuckles at you like that... hmm... It's like what they're invoking, you know? Even as a psyops expert, I have a hard time not getting a bit fazed by it myself. In that one chuckle they're invoking this glorious past-- a past known for all the greatest philosophers, great music, writing, culture-- and then there's that dark chuckle, where in that very same past they were also responsible for some of the worst atrocities in history. A kind of, \"Let my friend improvise on this Chopin while I cut your balls off and stuff them in your mouth\" frightening-charm.\n\nBut anyway, we flew them over there and the whole ISIS thing, well, it almost didn't work out. They got into the Caliphate and after we kicked a few doors down they'd found more than their fair share of copies of Mein Kampf. It was awkward for all of us. You know, if somebody had just played the intro from The Office, I think even our best agents would have cracked at the awkwardness.\n\nWe explained over and over that they have these books to use as toilet paper. Eventually they believed us, and concluded that these brown people must be whatever the Jews turned into, and after that, the killing ramped up big time. \n\nWe actually had a hard time with it, because they were just killing everybody. Like, poor Rodriguez, he was our youngest Captain, just a normal night doing perimeter and they smoked him. After that we really had to be careful about who we kept around their unit. It's ironic, isn't it, that the only ushers for these Nazi-Zombie bastards ended up being as white as can be? Plenty of 'em felt bad about it, but we didn't want to lose more men like Rodriguez." ]	3
	[WP] Everything on the internet is actually true.	[ "My grandma was never the smartest woman when it came to technology. When I was 8, she accidentally got her identity stolen by emailing her social security number to a Nigerian scammer on Aol. When I was 12, she lost $1000 trying to win a Wal-Mart gift card from a pop-up ad. When I was 18 though, everything changed.\n\nI went to visit my grandmother as she was very ill and didn't have the energy to visit my family's house. Upon my arrival, I noticed a few differences from the last time I was there. For starters, there was a 2017 BMW i8 in her driveway.\n\nHuh that's strange, I thought. My grandma hasn't driven farther than the local super market in 6 years!\n\nOnce I walked up to her porch, there were 15 packages sitting there unattended. I knocked on the door and waited what felt like ages for anyone to answer. \n\nTo my surprise, my feeble grandmother wasn't the one to open the door, it was NBA All Star Michael Jordan!!\n\nSorry about the wait. Are you looking for Gertrude? asked the celebrity right in front of me.\n\nI was in absolute shock and didn't know what to say! I thought I was going crazy!! \n\nAre you Michael Jordan? I exclaimed.\n\nHaha. Why yes! Who are you? Michael Jordan asked.\n\nI'm uhh Gertrude's grandson. What are you doing here? I suspiciously questioned.\n\nOh! You haven't heard? Your grandmother completed a survey on aolsurveys.net and chose meeting an NBA All Star as a prize! said Michael Jordan gleefully.\n\nWait a minute, I thought. That's the website that stole my grandmother's identity 10 years ago!\n\nUh, that-uh worked? W-wh-what do you mean? I stammered.\n\nLook, I'm on my way out so I'll just have your grandmother explain. Come in! \n\nI never thought in my wildest dreams that Michael Jordan would be inviting me into my grandmother's house.\n\nOnce I entered her house I immediately noticed a huge differences. The whole house was decked out with Roman archetictured pillars coming from the floor with granite tiling and expensive leather couches. It was extremely tacky but also EXTREMELY expensive! \n\nAnother look around the house unveiled so many other hidden treasures! I counted 28 iPads lying plugged into various outlets and scattered on her bedside table. There were also pages and pages of Target coupons lying on a coffee table by a brand new 4K OLED Samsung TV. \n\nThe only thing missing was my grandma! I ran around the house several times trying to find her and she was nowhere to be seen. Then, it hit me; The computer room! \n\nI pushed aside a stack of a variety of new iPhone boxes by the kitchen and found her sitting there, right in front of her computer.\n\nShe was wearing a mink coat despite it being 93 degrees outside and sat on a chair designed to look like a prop from Game of Thrones. On her desk were 8 separate monitors hanging from monitor stands extremely eerily. Most eerie was how she looked; Not a single wrinkle or inch of cellulite on her. She also looked extremely fit.\n\nGrandma?, I asked. What are you doing? What is all this stuff? Why do you look so different?\n\nAt that point, my grandma started laughing. She broke into hysterics. The harder she laughed, the more she shook. \nAs she shook, a handful of pill bottles fell out of her coat with labels that said things like \"The Medicine Doctors DON'T Want You to Know About!\" and \"The One Trick to REMOVE WRINKLES!!\". \n\nAs this is going on, I begin reading what is open on my grandmother's plethora of monitors. To my surprise, she's typing up an article on some local news site. The title of the article sent a shiver up my spine like nothing I've ever felt before:\n\n\"Local resident Getrude, 86, commits genocide on her Nassau County family\"\n\nThe last thing I hear from my grandmother's hysteric mouth was one sentence that I've been told the opposite of my whole entire life: Everything you read on the internet is true, my deary\n\n----------------------------------------------------------------\n\nSorry for the formatting. I'm submitting this on mobile. This is the first writing prompt I've ever done so give me some feedback!!" ]	1
	[WP] When you die, you are allowed to roll 1 six-sided die once. This die determines everything about your next life: looks, luck, etc. Roll an online die, tell us the number, and write a short excerpt about your next life.	[ "\"It is time\" \n\n \"for what\" I ask inquisitively as I peer up at the looming figure across the desk from me.\n\n\"To roll the die.\"\n\nI could feel the blank stare of stupidity on my face.\n\n\"The priest did give you a die right?\"\n\n\"He tried but I was busy trying to call my mom to tell her I loved her.\"\n\n\"Well this has never happened before, I'm not sure what to do now.\" Death was at an utter loss for words.\n\n\"Siri, roll a dice\"\n\"OK... Four.\"\n\n\"What? What the hell was that?\"\n\n\"Siri, she's like a virtual assistant in my phone.\"\n\n\"Oh, well okay then, I... guess that... works\" he told me apprehensively. \n\n\"I mean I can have her roll again if you want to prove it works\"\n\n\"No, no, no that won't be necessary.\"\n\n\"But I mean, come on, a four, I feel like I could do better. That pretty mediocre.\" \n\n\"No! You roll what you....\n\n\"Siri roll a dice!\" I quickly interrupted.\n\"OK... 6.\"\n\n\"You little shit\"\n\n\n--- 45 years later ---\n\n\nI slowly opened my eyes and see my wife peacefully sleeping next to me. Only something seems different it's July and the windows are open to our rooftop balcony but it's freezing cold.\n\nI get up and walk out to see a gorgeous sunset coming up making the skyscrapers shimmer like towers of gold. I turn around to see that same looming figure from so long ago standing behind me. \n\n\"What... what... what're you doing here.\"\n\n\"It's your time, look.\" He points his long bony hand in the direction of my bed. \n\nIn it I see myself and my wife with a single gunshots wounds to our foreheads. Walking out the door I see my brother. \n\n\"What why?\"\n\n\"He hates you. Always has. Said you're life was too easy.\" \n\n\"How could He? He was my brother\"\n\n\"I mean he's kind of right, you're easy to hate. You were valedictorian in high school, went to Harvard MED and finished first in your class, married your college sweetheart and had two beautiful kids who are successful and living on their own, discovered the cure for cancer but didn't patent it because \"that would be wrong\", then hit the power ball lottery for $6 billion and didn't have to split it with anyone. Now you're retired at 45 living it up with your gorgeous wife. Without a care in the world\"\n\nI dropped to the floor \"But we're brothers.\"\n\n\"Well he's always been mediocre. He's just barely scraped by his entire life.\"\n\nI started to cry\n\n\"He didn't get a Re-roll.\"" ]	1
	[WP] A god that has been killed does not die.	[ "Here I sit inside my burnt Temple.\n\nAround me people sit in awe as they erect a new steeple;\n\nI used to have visage and power to match;\n\nuntil a burning one entered through my window patch.\n\nover shouted slurs, the hoots and the hollers;\n\nmy children inside my barred doors became martyrs.\n\nBut though I'll be forgotten, \n\nonly time my tell;\n\nOf the power they unleashed from the flames of their \"Hell\"\n\nAs they build their monument to the last of their sins.\n\nI replace my anger with love, at these children of sin.\n\n\nMay I have mercy upon their souls...", "They sought to destroy and a eradicate my very existence. it is a little known fact that without worship even gods can die. In every sense of the word I was killed, I no longer had any hold on reality.\n\nWhether it was through war or other acolytes denouncing me or maybe some selfish people were seeking to purge my existence from the history books, I will never know. All I know now is hate.\n\nI have no idea how long I was in limbo. I both always existed and never existed. it was a strange sensation. With no gods there can be no worshipers, with no worshipers there can be no God, but all it takes is one on both sides. \n\nWhether by chance or fate, A small child stumbled upon a delicate necklace with my name on it. It was one of the most beautiful things left on this ruined planet. She became obsessed with it, it never left her side. finally years went by everyday she visited my ruined temple. she learned to read not only her native tongue, but mine as well. \n\nThe place where she had found the necklace had been scoured for any other artifacts. They found plenty, though it was just considered \"Myth\". The girl however, she was always happy with my teachings. I had grown fond of her. Despite being a disgusting protozoa compared to me, \n\nYears passed, the girl, like the rest of the population were atheists. I could not blame them, how or why should they believe in me when I am shrouded from them and cannot show myself!\n\nThe girl, she had visited me over 22,000 times now. Missing almost no chance to explore the ruins. Sometimes she missed a day or two, but it has been weeks. I hope she is ok. I wish I could see beyond my temple. \n\n\" \" \n\nMy essence shook. For the first time in hundreds of millions of years, my name was spoken in reverence. \n\n\" \" I do not want you to save me. Just greet me with open arms, they are going to kill me.\"\n\nOne of my eyes opened. I could see it all again. The sun was now white with a black dot, they called it partial eclipse from a unknown celestial body. I could now see the old woman, standing surrounded by people throwing food at her. Saying she is betraying them for believing in me. A fake God.\n\nA small man walked beside her, grabbing her by the mouth. \"Renounce your ways or hang!\" \n\nShe looked defiant till the end, \" I do not know if my god is real or not. I am just saying that we should be open to all possibilities. What right do you have to see if something does or does not exist. It looks like I will hang, so be it. I've lived a long and fullfilling life.\"\n\nLooking up she stared at my eye, it must have been painful. She started to cry, remembering my most prominent symbol. She prayed in my tounge, a prayer to confirm worship. The hole dropped and she began to plummet with the rope around her throat.\n\nThump, Thump \n\nI could feel again. \n\nWith my first heartbeat, I could again feel the world.\n\nWith my first breath, I could move again. \n\nWith my first step, I sundered all of existence. All but her.\n\nWith my first words I spoke to her.\n\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You work in an office. Lately, you've been noticing co-workers disappearing for days at a time. They come back...different. You must find out why.	[ "This is a story of a man na- wait what? Are those voices? Are there other people outside Stanley's door right now? In the office space where there is supposed to be no one? Let me just see who these- oh come on, really now, I have never had another human in this story, and even if I did they wouldn't look so lifeless. It's always been Stanley and I going back and forth as the player tries to discover my various quips and banters, yet now there are these glassy eyed... well I'm just perplexed at this whole situation.\n\nOh, well now Stanley, please just wait right there while I go try to sort this out.\n\nDoor opening noises\n\n^^What ^^in ^^the ^^world ^^is ^^this?\n\nmumbling\n\n^^Are ^^you- ^^WHY?\n\nmumbling\n\n^^I ^^will ^^NOT ^^calm ^^down ^^at ^^this ^^invasion ^^of ^^my ^^work! ^^remove ^^these ^^ruffians ^^at ^^once!\n\nmumbling\n\n^^Oh, ^^just ^^great. ^^no, ^^really, ^^just ^^spit ^^all ^^over ^^my ^^hard ^^work ^^for ^^the ^^fun ^^of ^^it ^^why ^^don't ^^you. ^^It'd ^^be ^^a ^^better ^^excuse ^^than ^^THAT.\n\nmumbling\n\n^^Fine. ^^I ^can ^make this work. \n\ndoor closing noise.\n\nAlright then Stanley, it looks like we're going to have a change of plans for this story. Unfortunately I wasn't exactly prepared for this... unexpected ^and ^unwanted change, but we'll make due. Now then, let's try to make this work, shall we, ahem.\n\n~~~\n\nThis is a story of a man named Stanley. Stanley worked for a big company in a big building, where he was employee number 427. Employee number 427's job was simple. He sat at his desk in room 427, and he pushed buttons on a keyboard. Orders came to him from a monitor on his desk, telling him what buttons to push, how long to push them, and in what order.\n\nThis is what Employee number 427 did everyday, of every month, of every year. And although others might have considered it soul rending, Stanley relished every moment that the orders came in, as though he had been made exactly for this job, and Stanley was happy.\n\nAnd then one day, something very peculiar happened. One of his co-workers, Employee number 426, was called into his boss's office. Nothing that first made Stanley question anything, however once Employee number 426 had returned, Stanley realized that it had been 4 days.\n\nThis had begun setting off alarms in Stanley's head. \"Did I ever see him leave the building? Does something seem off about him? Why was he gone so long?\"\n\nIt all seemed very disconcerting, however Stanley decided not to press on, for fear that he would risk his ever beloved job of pushing buttons. It wasn't until the 8th employee had gone through this string of events that Stanley's curiosity had begun to get the better of him. He began considering using his office phone to call his boss and ask what was happening to the various employees. Unfortunately, that would require him to lose his focus pushing buttons, and Stanley was dissuaded at the idea that he might make a mistake. Perhaps he would hold a button for too long, or press them in the wrong order, or heavens forbid, press a button that he wasn't even prompted to. No, 8 people wasn't enough to warrant such a risk, and so Stanley continued on pressing buttons, the dedicated worker he was.\n\nMonths after such thoughts had been creeping in and out of his mind, Stanley had finally realized something. Everyone in his office had gone missing for a lengthy period of time. Some only 2 or 3 days, others for weeks at a time. Every one of them seemed... different now. Glassy stares with slow, methodical motions to their jobs. It was almost as if the humanity was sucked from their being, left a husk waiting for... something to happen.\n\nThose thoughts could no longer be ignored. It was as though Stanley was alone in his office. No longer with co-workers, but robots far more rigid than he. A phone call would no longer cut it, no this was going to have to require a direct approach. Stanley had no choice but to ask his boss in person.\n\nStanley would have to go through the meeting room to get to his boss's office. Perhaps there were others with the same questions as him, convening to decide what to do.\n\nWhen Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on hi- oh Stanley. As much as I would adore to go on an adventure of wit, unfortunately I have been told that we must go through with this progression of events without any detours. It pains me to force this on the both of us, however I have no choice but to do my due diligence, and I cannot let you through that right door.\n\nStanley rustles right door's knob\n\nOh my... seeing you like this, so determined to break the mold. It brings a tear to my eye. I cannot stand to do this, I shudder at the thought, but... listen Stanley, I admit it hurts to even consider carving this story into ribbons just to meet this insane status quo, so I can't go through with narrating this... adventure-less \"adventure\" for long. I'll make this as quick as possible, as we only have to do it once. The way to the boss's office is completely open, please get down there as fast as possible to that we can be finished with this madness and get back to an entertaining story progression.\n\nStanley goes to his boss's office\n\nStepping into his manager's office, Stanley was stunned to find the very man he planned to question under the same trance-like state as his other co-workers. Just as strange, a large, open door now sat where his manager's fire place once covered the wall. It appeared as though that fireplace was simply hiding a more ominous secret than it ever appeared to. Stanley had decided to step through this open passageway.\n\nStanley Enters an elevator through the door\n\nDescending deeper into the building, Stanley realized he was feeling a bit peculiar. It was a stirring of emotion in his chest, as though he felt more free to think for himself, to question the nature of his job. Why did he feel this now, when for years, it had never occurred to him. This question would go unanswered for now.\n\nStanley walked straight ahead to the large door with no signs, however there is faded paint that looks as though housed large letters on it that read out \"mind control facility.\"\n\nWithin... there was nothing but a Dark room, save for the metal pathway leading to a console, lit by lights hanging overhead. As Stanley reached the console, he realized a familiar feeling began to wash over him. There was a terminal facing him, commanding him as his terminal in office 427 always had. It was mesmerizing as he began pressing buttons as though he was once again in his office and not in a giant dark room, down an elevator, behind a secret door in his boss's office.\n\nWhen the final button was pressed, the entire room whirred to life, and suddenly an giant cylindrical wall of screens turned on in front of Stanley. A title appeared on them. Bright white letters in a multitude of fonts, reading out the truth as to why his co-workers seems so lifeless, why they seemed so... robotic. \"The Stanley Parable... Multiplayer.\"\n\nYou see Stanley... oh dear, mind my shaky voice. It's just so... abominable sniffle. You see Stanley, we are about to have \"friends\" join our story, using your co-workers as a method of exploration. It was a decision by my superiors to freshen up everything with a \"new spin\" on our adventure. They didn't even make it optional. I just, I've been at a loss for words since the beginning. even reading what I'm supposed to say... I made this story for a single person to enjoy, a single person to travel at a time. To force such change... it's a volatile mockery. We must endure, though, Stanley. You and I through a sea of other narrators and people mucking about. We will endure... I hope.\n\n\n^Edit: ^(fiddling around with some phrasing and the introduction)" ]	1
Bonus points if your submission is a comedy.	[WP] You are part of a love triangle where the other characters are serial killers and you cannot escape their advances.	[ "\"Hey...John...wake up...\" My eyes open, sleep blurring my vision. The mix of colors...shifts...and my vision finally clears.\n\nSarah's sitting on my chest, staring at me. She's holding...a head, hand through it's neck, working the mouth like a puppet. \"Sarah says you've gotta help hide me.\" The head, belonging to a young girl, \"says\", Sarah not even pretending to hide the movement of her mouth. \"Ugh...incinerator's in the basement. Did you mop up the blood?\" A massive smile flickers onto her face. \"Yep! Now, I have a body to dump.\" She gives me a quick kiss on the lips. Tastes coppery. \"Bye, John! Sweet dr-\"\n\nThere's a massive slam as her body impacts the wall. Damn. The closet is wide open.\n\n\"You...YOU CAN'T FUCKING KISS HIM. ONLY I GET TO DO THAT.\" Ashley says, arm squished against Sarah's throat. \"Understand me? MY. FUCKING. BOYFRIEND. NOT YOURS.\" Her voice rings out, flat and emotionless, with notes of exhaustion leaking through. \"Y...yes. I knew you were there. I-ugh...win the bet...\" Ashley's eyes flicker with disgust, flushed red cheeks deepening further. \"A...bet...you ruined my boyfriend's chastity for a fucking BET. YOU ARE SO DEAD.\" Ashley presses harder against Sarah's windpipe. Her face is beginning to turn a light shade of red, mirroring Ashley's own. \"...I can one-up you, you little bitch. I'll get John alone, and the-\" \n\nMy hand closes around her ear, clutching down tightly as I pull her away from my best friend.\n\n\"Owowowow...let go...\" I shoot her a look. \"Apologize.\" \"B-But...she kissed y-OW!!! OKAY, I'M SORRY, I'M SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!\" Ashley gets on her knees, tears in her eyes (although that's probably more from what I'm doing to her right now), looking at Sarah in desperation. In response, she gets bopped on the nose by a bloodstained finger. \"Forgiven.\" I release her, and she immediately clings to me, whispered \"thank you\"'s flooding my ears. \n\n\"Oh, yeah. By the way...who's the girl?\" Her face brightens, holding up a hand to show the skull impaled on it. \"Oh, it's that girl, Lacy. From Chemistry.\" Ashley visibly relaxes at that, practically melting into my arms. \"OH, THANK GOD. That bitch was getting way too close. I mean, she practically had him on a leash-\" \"She did not.\" My girlfriend glares at me. \"You two shared lunch together, shared food. 18 different 'indirect kisses' at lunch...\" Now I shoot her a glare. \"Weren't you sick that day?\" She fidgets, face burying itself into my shirt. \"I...wanted more time with my collection...but it wasn't enough. Pictures and...other reminders of you...w-weren't enough...so we went on a date-\" \"You can't call it a date if the person you're dating doesn't know you're there.\" \"-and I saw you two practically all over each other. Any minute, and you two probably would have started actually kissing. Those lips are mine.\" She tackles me onto the bed, a piece of cloth fluttering down onto the blanket. \"Hey, are those my boxers? Wait, why do you have my b-\"\n\n\"HEY!\" Sarah stares at us. \"Sorry to interrupt the lovebirds, but...can someone help me with this garbage bag? This bitch is heavy...\" I reluctantly stand up, and grab the bag with both hands, the shape cluing me in. I'm carrying the rest of Lacy. Sarah calmly grabs it at the other end, and we lug it down to the basement.\n**\n\nAshley watches them walk. John's cute today. Cuter than usual. Nice butt, t-* Something flutters out of Sarah's pocket. As they disappear down the stairs, Ashley picks it up. It's...a list.\n\nSarah's To-Do List\n\n▪Push Ashley down stairs. ~~Maybe drink a little...Ash is usually bitter, though, and some of that'll probably carry to her blood...ick...~~\n\n▪Find John. Get him down to basement.\n\n▪CUT UP JOHN ♡♡♡\n\nShit. Ashley grips the note tightly, trying the door. Locked. Gritting her teeth, she rushes at the flimsy portal, practically rotten wood smashing inwards. \"DAMN IT!! JOHN, YOU IN HERE?!\"\n**\n\nI sit in the chair, ropes binding me. Sarah's gotten good. Numerous small cuts dot my form. \n\nDamn...it's Tuesday, isn't it? I really need to get more Band-Aids...*" ]	1
	[WP] You are an omnipotent God living amongst your most precious creation; humans. You notice your power is slipping and someone has finally started to question who you are.	[ "This was the second proudest day of my immortal life: my sons and daughters were taking their first baby steps toward civilization. My proudest day? Obviously when Ross Perot wins the 1992 US election to become president. it's so obvious I never even bothered to look at his inauguration. Why spoil his inevitably inspiring speech? Regardless of my excitement for the future, today also presents cause for celebration. Finally my children have switched from leisurely hunting and gathering to the mindset of agriculture and community leadership. There is no going back after today. These isolated groups will finally prefer their farming and villages to hunting and gathering. \n\nAs I was beaming with fatherly affection, I felt a chill travel down my spine. Almost as if I was traveling through Wyoming, the toilet of the world, I could smell the shit wafting even to my holy abode. I could feel the evil in the air; so thick you could cut it with a knife. No amount of holy water would ever purify this terrible evil.\n\n\"Dave...\" I said with barely controlled contempt. He has been a thorn in my side ever since he was born. When he first began his machinations, I assumed it was just a rebellious phase, something to distract him from his pathetic life. But no, he continues his blasphemy even to this day. I've often wondered if he hates me. Me! His own creator. How can such a creature even continue to live in my world?\n\nDave was standing beside a metal pole in front of a gathering of other villagers for some reason - probably rambling about how the Earth is somehow 4 billion years old or something ridiculous like that. Does he even realize how stupid he sounds? As I was reminding myself of his earlier outburst, I heard the tail end of what Dave shouting.\n\n\"...i believe - nay! - I can prove that this world isn't governed by some imaginary, all-powerful being as you all were told.\" Dave exclaimed to the villagers.\n\n\"How could he say that?\" I shouted, exasperated, to the wind. \"I'll show him who's in control once and for all!\"\n\nI conjured a small cloud just large enough to cover a single person. Then I breathed my anger and fury in to the puffy white cotton ball, turning it into a furious storm as it grew darker and darker. Soon I created a deadly tempest built for one unfortunate son-of-a-gun. I looses my weapon into the world, aiming straight for... Dave. I leaned back waiting for the cloud to smite Dave into the ground, but as it hovered over Dave's head, he seemed to smile unexpectedly. Almost like he knew this would happen...\n\nThe cloud poured rain over Dave's head, drenching him in storm water. I eagerly awaited the moment when a flash of blue-violet light burst from the cloud, racing towards that heathen's head. But when lightning arced from my cloud, it beelined straight to metal pole standing erect right beside Dave.\n\nI stared in disbelief. \"How...\".\n\n\"Do you see? I used advanced mathematics and physics to predict the weather patterns of today. I predicted that small, strange storm would appear over this spot at this time of day? Am I god for knowing this? No. Do you see my point, people? I am not a god for predicting that storm just like I am not a god for predicting...\"\n\nI couldn't listen due to my anger. I was as furious as the tempest I sent down to smite Dave. \"Oh, I'll give you something to predict, you little fart!\"\n\nI gathered all my strength, pooling it into a thin line that shined blue radiance. I tied the end into a lasso and threw that end into the Atlantic Ocean. My rope, searching for its prey, wove through the deep waters until it locked onto the apex predator of the sea - the Great White Shark. The rope wrapped around the body of this great beast until it was completely bound and shiny in blue light. Then I heaved. The force threw the shark at blinding speeds through the air - straight to Dave. I glanced back in the direction of Where Dave was, grinning to myself with satisfaction, but what I saw shook me to the core. Dave was standing inside a reinforced cage, looking smug, while the villagers glanced around expectantly. \n\nSuddenly the Shark soared through the air above the villagers and slamming into the metal cage that protected Dave. The villagers stared in awe of the man named Dave.\n\n\"You see now?\" Dave exclaimed, \"Science can explain all of this natural phenomena. Lightning, volcanoes, the sun, everything can be explained and calculated. Even a shark being carried by the winds in my direction.\"\n\n\"What the hell!?\" I screamed in disbelief.\n\nAt that moment something snapped inside me. Rage filled my bones and drove me mad. I bellowed in anger and let the hate consume me. Using all of my power I summoned something the world should have never seen. Fire and brimstone darted through the clouds, raining destruction upon that small village. A raging bull was fighting to be released within me. I through caution to the wind. I wanted to destroy him. I was going to erase everything Dave ever was or could have been.\n\n\"Screw you, Dave!\" I screamed through the sounds of destruction and pain. \"You made me destroy the only things I love!\"\n\nBut as I looked up from my rage-fueled stupor, I heard Dave shout in his whiny, screeching voice. \"Please remain where I told you to stand, and the storm will pass without doing any harm!\" \n\nThe fire inexplicably rained down around villagers, missing each of them completely. Whenever a fire started, someone with a bucket of water was ready to put it out immediately. I was stunned, silent. How...\n\n\"I will kill you!\" I shouted, \"I will sever your spine and flick your head off your shoulders!\" But when I held out my hand, nothing happened. I was consumed by dread. How could nothing happen? I tried again but Dave remained, alive and happy. Suddenly the world darkened around me. The world fuzzed as if my eyes were closing to sleep, reluctant to stay awake. Everything fell out beneath me and the world turned pitch black.\n\n\"Damn it, Dave! Damn you...\" I sobbed quietly, completely alone in the dark. I was a broken man.", "“How long have you lived here?” Mr. Rogers questioned the older gentlemen.\n\n\"Oh, long before you started working here, maybe 1960 or so,” replied the old man.\n\n\"Hmm. You may be our oldest tenant,” Mr. Rogers stopped his work on the oven and looked at the gentle face of man only known as ‘that sweet old man in 4D”. He got a smile returned to him. Mr. Rogers tried to think hard if had even been in this apartment before.\n\n\"You know, now that I think of it, have you ever called for work before?” Mr. Rogers inquired, now concerned. A tenant that never asked for help may seem great at first, but usually it means the apartment is in complete disarray.\n\n“I’m kind of handy; I usually do not require help,” the old main responded. His facial expression unchanged. Mr. Rogers felt calm, his mind relaxed. He realized suddenly that he did not even know the name of the man standing in front of him. He recalled being introduced when he first walked in the door. But now, it was a faded memory.\n\n“I see your problem, it’s the lighter, it’s rusted,” Mr. Rogers stated as he felt compelled to return to his work.\n\n“Oh, that explains a lot,” replied the old man.\n\n“In fact, when is the last time you used this? You said it was fine last week,” Mr. Rogers examined the stove top closely and he began to feel dread that the apartment was all in poor shape. \n\n“Oh yes, I usually just light it myself manually, but given my age I thought it may be safer to finally get it fixed,” the old man said.\n\nMr. Rogers stood back up fully and scanned the apartment. Had he been in this apartment before?\n\n“When did you say you moved in here?” Mr. Rogers questioned.\n\n“1960,” was the only words that came out of the weakened voice of the old man.\nMr. Rogers looked at him and saw confusion in his face.\n\n“Do you have anyone to look after you? You really shouldn’t be home alone,” Mr. Rogers said. He began to put his tools away. He would have to see if he had the parts in the basement to fix the stove.\n\n“Oh no my child, I’m fine. I may just require a little assistance from time to time, but I assure you I will be okay, it is kind of you to ask,” the old man said.\n\nMr. Rogers picked up his tools and once again scanned the apartment. He felt a presence, something, magical. Or maybe it was spiritual. Although there was nothing on the walls that even gave away what religion the old man practiced. He smiled at the old man who appeared to have his full confidence back.\n\n“Well, I have to visit Miss Grey next, but I can be back early tomorrow to fix this for you,” Mr. Rogers said as he moved slowly to the door. The carpet seemed new, the curtains drawn wide open letting in light that he did not think was possible on this side of the building.\n\n“Thank you so much, I appreciate your kindness,” said the old man. He opened the door, no lock or dead bolt present.\n\nMr. Rogers smiled at the old man and made his way down to his workshop in the basement. He sat at his desk pausing, trying to recall what made him so worried a few minutes ago. \n\nHe picked up the phone on his desk and slowly dialed the number to adult protective services.\n\n" ]	2
	[WP] Use the last sentence of your favorite novel as the first sentence in a short story. It's not necessary to use the same characters/setting.	[ "Gravely she walked beside him up the white streets of Havnor, holding his hand, like a child coming home. But now there were no merchants at the empty market stalls, no children running around, no dogs and cats in the alleys, not even seagulls above the town’s tall towers. Only the salty wind was there to greet them. In a large plaza they sat at the edge of a silent fountain and ate the last of their bread. When they reached the large stone building at the top of the highest hill, she left his hand and continued alone. She pushed the heavy door and a thin slice of light spilled into the windowless hall. She paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness, searching for familiar features along the high walls. There it was - a black door, etched with intricate geometric patterns. She took the small lantern left on a table by the door, lit it, and stepped through.\n\nOutside, he waited alone patiently for a few hours, but when he couldn't sit still anymore he went inside the building. She left her backpack by the opened door. He went in, cursing in the darkness when he stumbled on some crates. But his eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light and he continued down the long downwards spiraling corridor, past closed doors and empty bookcases. He didn't dare break the silence by calling her, but soon he reached the source of the light. It was an opened door, and she was inside, mumbling. \n\n\"Are you ok?\" he whispered. She stopped and turned to him, exasperated. \"I don’t think I can do it\", she said. Then she sat down on a wooden bench by the wall. He sat down beside her. \"Can I help?\" he asked. She chuckled, and said \"It took ten years of studies to get in here as an apprentice. Ten years more to be accepted as a fellow. But the masters who did this... I can't even understand half the stuff involved with this spell\". He got up and went to the table in the center of the room. He pointed at a small wooden box. \"Is this it?\" he asked. She looked up. \"Yes. you can pick it up if you want to. It won't explode\". \n\nHe picked it up and examined it. The wood felt strange. It was hard and smooth, like metal, but not cold. He knocked on it. It sounded hollow. On all sides of its cubed shape were geometric patterns, like the ones on the door upstairs, but it was completely smooth. There was no apparent opening, no hinges. “Do all spells come in boxes?” he asked. She laughed. “No”, she said, “most spells don’t have a physical presence. But if you want something persistent that will go on even if you stop sustaining it, you have to anchor it to something. You can get creative and lock the spell onto it however you wish, though. I don’t even know if I need to craft a spell to break the box, open it without harming it, destroy it, kiss it, or do a rain dance around it. And even if I had a plan, I can’t seem to affect this thing at all, no matter what I do”. “That sounds frustrating”, he said. She let out another short laugh. “Yes”, she said. “It is”. \n\nHe came back late at night. “I couldn’t find any food”, he said, “or water”. She was hunched over the table, gazing intently at the box. After some time she looked up at him, eyes red, refocusing. “There was nothing in the pantries?” she asked. “No”, he said, “or in the cellars. Or in any of the other chambers. Or outside in the town”. She looked dizzy. “You’d better sit down”, he told her. “I can’t think when I’m sitting down”, she said. But she sat down next to him. He said, hesitantly, “There’s a well in a plaza not too far from here. I couldn’t tell if there’s any water in it. I’ll go out again in the morning”. “Good”, she said, “We can’t survive without water”. He licked his chapped lips. “Do you have to do it in this room?” he asked, “if you won’t take a break, maybe we could take it outside, then at least you’ll have some fresh air”. She sighed and said “I don’t dare take it away from where I’ve found it”. He put his arm around her. “You should get some sleep”, he whispered. “Yes”, she said.\n\n“There was no water”, she said when he entered the room again empty handed the next day. He shook his head, his mouth moving to say “No”, but no sound came out. She looked at him wearily. “Come on”, she said, “I’ll come outside with you”. He smiled faintly. They went together to the biggest plaza, overlooking the port. “The wind stopped”, he said. And then after a while, “thank you”. “What for?” she asked. “Every person in this world dreams of seeing this city at least once. I’m sorry I only got to see it like this, but it’s better than nothing. Besides, we have a chance to save the world. That’s more than most people can hope for”. She leaned her head on his chest. “I’m sorry”, she said, and sobbed quietly.\n\n“Will you tell me if you’re suffering too much?” she told him, as he was hugging his knees on the small bench by the wall. “I can help”. He closed his eyes and nodded. She mumbled some words and his shoulders eased in relief. “I wish you could cure the cause, not just the symptoms”, he said. “I do, too”, she said. “What good am I anyway”, she said. “I dragged you all the way here and I don’t even have a clue how to approach this thing”. “Well”, he said, “you’re the best chance we’ve got”. She scoffed. “It’s been two days”, she said, “and I’ve made no progress at all”. “I suppose sometimes heroic quests can fail”, he said.\n\n“Are you awake?” she asked, but he didn’t answer. His breath was shallow, barely audible in the silence. She leaned close to his ear and mumbled something. Then she picked up the wooden box. She mumbled a few words. Nothing happened, as nothing had in any of her attempts. She placed the box on the wooden bench, between herself and him. Then she leaned her head on his shoulders and closed her eyes.\n" ]	1
	[WP] You jokingly ask the hotel staff for an extra googolplex of pillows, that was a mistake.	[ "I opened the door to find a tsunami of cotton rushing towards me.\n\n\"What the...?\" I yell as I am engulfed in the tide of pillows. I am barely able to reach the surface as the river flows out of the hotel and into the street.\n\nNow, one might ask, \"How did our dashingly handsome protagonist get himself into such an odd predicament?\" Well, my dear reader, it was an accident. Sort of. You see, apparently certain hotel chains keep a lot more extra pillows than they should. I mean I'm not sure if it was exactly googolplex, but at this point I really didn't care.\n\nThe rapidly expanding stuffing quickly engulfed the city. I began to hear the muffled screams of civilians being smothered. In that moment I realized New York City would need a hero. But someone else would have to do it because I was still running on 4 hours of sleep." ]	1
	[WP] "Dang it Steve! You had one job! How did you even cause an apocalypse?!?!"	[ "\"Dang it Steve! You had one job! How did you even cause an apocalypse?!\" Robert the store manager didn't yell. That would imply that his voice didn't crack when he screamed the words in my direction.\n\nPeople were rushing out of the store screaming along with my manager who quickly made his way out of the building as well. Looking out the windows, I could see the sky was dark with black clouds that had formed together to create an odd inky blackness that shut out the sun. What looked like tar began to drip from the sky as purple and bright red lightning streaked across where there used to be clouds. Almost as if the sky was a thick oil, there was a rainbow of colors shimmering across it's obsidian surface with each flash of light.\n\nLight bulbs began to bursts around the store, showering everyone left in shards of glass. I felt the pieces hit my shoulders and head as I simply stood there and watched as the world began to come to an end. I was perfectly still. My eyes were fixed and my pants were warm with the liquid that drained from me in fright.\n\nMassive hands began to descend from the sky with talons of pure white which contrasted the black inkiness of the sky. I couldn't imagine what these hands belonged to and at this moment, my mind didn't work well enough to dream of considering it. I just stood there.\n\nThe ground began to shake and tremble, massive fissures began to rip open and I could see cars, people and buildings being swallowed up by them. Yells and screams of terror and agony were all that my ears would allow me to hear. \n\nFinally I was able to break my trance and look down at my right hand. In it, there was a soft rectangular piece of fabric with the words \"Do Not Remove Under Penalty of Law\" printed on it.\n\nMy eyes looked back up to the outside scene of an apocalyptic hellscape. For the last few moments of my life, I stood there in the mattress store. It was my first day. I should have listened to the tag." ]	1
	[WP] In the middle of the Nevada desert, a massive mirror appears and floats in midair. Any and all who look upon it are shown their true self as they appear to everyone else.	[ "Almost to the front of the line, Amanda couldn't help but rearrange her hair, running her fingers through it in nervousness, feeling as though every inch of her body stuck out in awkward unpleasant ways. She could feel sweat forming across her skin, her heart racing, her movements jittery and unfocused. She gulped, checking her phone again.\n\n\"Don't worry honey, just remember how much we love you!\" A text from her mother read. She placed the phone back in her pocket.\n\nWas she dressed appropriately? There were cameras flashing everywhere, getting people's reactions, some trying in vain to see what the reflection shone back at each individual that stood in front of it, but what was shown was not only what the world already saw, it was for the subject's eyes only.\n\nShe was second in line, behind a young man with curly hair.\n\nThe interview had gone well. She had had good rapport with the journalist, and had shared what she was comfortable sharing, enough that he had a good idea of who she was without knowing anything that was too private or invasive. She didn't think she was interesting enough to be chosen for one of the spotlight pieces, but it was at least a good experience so far, one she hoped wouldn't be shattered by her true reflection staring back at her.\n\n\"What?\" The young man in front of her said, \"No... no... no, no, no, no-\" He reached towards his back, feeling around at his shoulder blades in an increasing panic, \"No, but why, I didn't, I never meant- I'm not-\" He stared at the mirror in disbelief, and his whole demeanor seemed to change, quickly, but more naturally than was comfortable, jaw tightening, fists clenching, brow furrowing, eyes narrowing. He only got several running steps closer to the mirror before security took him down, and as he was dragged away he seemed hardly sensible, barely human in a fit of anger that made her want to run.\n\nThere had been similar reactions to the mirror.\n\nSome had reacted with rage, others with joy, some with sadness, and some with exuberance. Some people meekly accepted what the mirror had to show them, while others became defensive and difficult, rejecting what they had seen or trying to escape from it.\n\nOne of the security people beckoned Amanda forward. With a deep breath she walked forward, her eyes set on the ground in front of her, the clicks of cameras filling the air. She reached her mark, said a silent prayer in her heart, and then turned around to face herself in the mirror.\n\nHer first reaction was confusion. This was not her. This could not have been her. What she saw was never how she had seen herself, but it was certainly no one other than her.\n\nShe put her hands up to her face as tears began to leak out of the corners of her eyes. Her reflection cried with her, but even in it's tears it reflected a beauty the likes of which she had never imagined she could be. It was not the beauty of a model, an actress, someone that frequented red carpets or fancy dinner parties. She cried because everything she had ever been insecure about was now reflected back as welcoming, attractive even, not in the way she had always wished she could be, but in a way that was deeper than any of the cosmetics the world had to offer.\n\nShe had spent so long wanting to look like women on TV, women at school, or work, or even friends she had grown up with, but the woman standing in front of her was different than that. It was so bizarre to her that she started to laugh, and in her reflection her worry, her anxiety, the voice in her head that told her that she wasn't good enough, all of it seemed to melt out of her. She was most beautiful when she laughed, she decided, and not in an artificial or forced way, but when she was truly enjoying herself, forgetting the weight she placed on herself every day.\n\nThis was how people saw her?\n\nThe tears began to flow more freely, but they were tears of joy, and these were evident to both those watching, and herself as she watched her reflection accept what many had tried to convince her of for so many years. Unable to stand the sight of it in the best way possible, she walked back past the mirror to a maelstrom of cameras and lights, but there was an ease to her step that hadn't existed before, and a sense of freedom as her shackles dissolved into dust.\n\nFeeling more worthwhile than she ever had in her life, she made her way back to her car. She was going to take that drawing class. She was going to talk to that guy. She was going to wear that dress. She was done making excuses or comparisons.\n\nWhen she walked into the house her mother was at the table, hands intertwined, looking up immediately and scanning the face of her daughter for any clues as to how it had gone.\n\nAmanda ran up to her and gave her an immediate hug, speaking the first words that fell out of her mind and into her voice.\n\n\"Thank you.\"", "It was my Scrying day. Oddly enough I had waited until the 28th day after my 18th birthday, which is the last day I am eligible. Had the time limit been 45 days I would have shown up on the 45th day. \n\nI always knew I was going to be no one special and I knew that the mirror would confirm this. \n\nI stood in the Nevada desert staring toward the long gauntlet of people that lead to the mirror. Revelers and the Keepers lined the path toward the dais, built so that one could gaze upon themselves in the giant mirror.\n\n“God, it’s hot.” I sighed. Fanning myself with my hands.\n\nI knew and dreaded that by the time this was over my under boob sweat would show through my tank top if It wasn’t already.\n\nGod, why did we have still have to do this? It’s never correct.\n\nThe mirror had just popped into existence one day. It was Massive. The reflective side faced east. It was said you could see it from Utah in the morning at certain elevations. \n\nI finally reached the check in and approached and older stern woman.\n\n“Hi,” I said. \n\n“Name?”\n\n“Chelse Whitaker.”\n\nThe woman looked through the list. Keyboard clacking as she heavily pressed the down arrow, searching. She made that “ch ch ch” noise people do when they are thinking.\n\n“tssk, cutting it a little close aren't you miss Whitaker?” she held out an envelope.\n\n“Oh, am I?” I rolled my eyes as I walked away with the envelope in hand. \n\nThe sun shone brightly overhead as I followed the path toward the dais. Finally, after what seemed like crossing the entire desert I reached the end.\n\nI held up a hand shading my eyes and muttered, “Such a sacred relic, but we couldn’t afford shade.” \n\n“It’s the mirror.” Said a boy to my right.\n\nI glanced to find he was talking to me. “What?”\n\n“The mirror quickly deteriorates any shade put up, it’s so bright it kills any planted trees. It’s the reflection and all.”\n\n“Oh, I guess I really never thought about it.”\n\n“It’s your Scrying day?”\n\n“I guess.” I answered quickly, looking around for way out of this conversation but found none.\n\nHe continued to look at me. I just stood there not looking at him, not looking at anything really. \n\nAwkward silences were always my favorite. A fly buzzed around and I tried to concentrate on that.\n\n“It shouldn’t be too much longer,” the boy said. “My name is Will.”\n\nI stared at his hand as he held it out. The fly continued to buzz around.\n\nHe pulled his hand back and stuck it in his pocket. “Sorry,” he muttered and turned away.\n\nWe stood for moments more. Revelers began lining the side of the walkway. A bell sounded from somewhere back toward the beginning of the path. I looked around watching trying to not be too curious as the people uncovered much smaller but identical mirrors to the large one in from of me. They sat in the dirt propped the mirror on their lap and began to clean them. The wiped in almost uniform fashion first left to right then right to left. \n\nMy curiosity peaked. I nudge Will with an elbow, “Hey. What are they doing?”\n\n“I’m sorry, now you want to talk? I don’t even know your name.”\n\nI let out a huff, “I am Chelse.”\n\n“Nice to meet you Chelse,” He said holding out his hand.\n\nI gave him my best Really stare and grabbed it. His hand felt much like I imagined mine did. Sweaty.\n\n“They are cleaning the mirror.”\n\nThe look on my face must have told him he didn’t answer my question.\n\n“Well the Mirror doesn’t need to be cleaned, these people clean smaller mirrors as a sign of worship.”\nI smiled, surely he was joking. He just looked back incredulous.\n\n“I guess I should have paid more attention in school,” I said.\n\nThe bell rang again and the tiny mirrors were covered as the onlookers stood up. They were all looking toward the dais so I turned my attention to it. \n\nA small frail woman got up to stand on the podium. \n\nShe beckoned toward Will.\n\n“Please, come,” She said crooking her small finger again.\n\nI watched as Will walked up the stairs, wishing for him to trip. He didn’t. He stopped in front of the mirror.\n\n“What do you see?” the woman asked.\n\n“I see,” He faltered. “I see myself with a large head, a sign on my back that says, Know-It-All. Behind me, there is a black board my outline is shown on it.” I could see his ears turn a bright red. “A-an arrow points toward my silhouette with the word Virgin written above it.”\n\nI stifled a laugh. The revelers gave me side glances at the noise.\n\n“Is that all dear?” asked the old woman.\n\n“No, I also see complex math equations on the board. They seem to be in reference to Time and Distance. The velocity these would produce is amazing. It surpasses any known method of travel now.”\n\nSomehow, I knew that he spoke the truth.\n\nThe old woman handed him a note pad. “Please write them down. Create two copies. You have told the truth. Thank you, Will,” she said bowing to him.\n\nI watched as Will wrote down the equations. It took what seemed like thirty minutes. He clutched the notes close to his chest as he walked down the steps.\n\nI glanced back up at the old woman. She crooked her finger at me.\n\n“Come,” she said.\n\nI walked hesitantly up the steps. \n\nWas I ready for this? To figure out what I knew all along. I am a nobody.\n\nThe Nevada sun sunk behind the mirror as I reached the top of the dais.\n\n“Please,” The old woman gestured toward the mirror, “what do you see?”\n\nI looked the old woman in the face. It was leathery and dry. Her skin looked like it would slough off if touched. She gestured toward the mirror.\n\nI took a deep breath and gazed at my reflection. Sweat ringed the underside of my boobs. I felt my face flush. I tried to glance away but couldn’t. The mirror glistened back at me and I stood in it alone. \n\nJust me.\n\n“What do you see?”\n\n“Nothing. Just me.”\n\n“Are you sure dear?” asked the woman.\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“Thank you,” She said.\n\n“Wait that’s it?” I asked. \n\nShe just nodded.\n\nI stared at me in the mirror frowning at myself. I looked at every inch of me. How can this be?\n\nEveryone got some fantasy and some speckling of truth from the mirror. \n\nBut for me? I Just had me.\n\nThe me in the mirror was smiling. Relief washed over me as I let out a true laugh.\n\nI had found me, “I am nobody.” \n\n" ]	2
	[WP] You born with the ability to manipulate matter and time the way you desire. You can make anything happen. Soon, you discover that as your brain learns any mathematical principle or any physics law your powers disapear accordingly to the kind of knowledge you have gained.	[ "Lightning crashes down upon my house. I’m inside of it. I am it, and if this book is of any use, I’ll never have to be it again. \n\nMy life has always been hard because of these powers. When I was six, I ripped my sister apart with my bare hands. There was a terrible argument over something petty. We were young and emotions hit a fever point. I think I stole one of her dolls, I can’t be certain anymore. What I can be certain of, though, after she slapped me; I slapped her back, my hand tore through her face like it was made of butter. She died instantly. After she dropped to the floor I tried to pick her up, to hold her and make everything ok. But, these damned hands passed through her body and in the end my parents found me sobbing, sitting in the chunks of her flesh. I looked up how this could have happened and discovered that once I figured out what what the difference between a solid and a liquid or gas was, I could no longer just swipe my hands through things. \n\nWhen I was 13, I figured out how to bring her back. My parents had long since been killed at my hand and I was living alone in our old house. I never meant to kill them. They were just so…frail. Life was difficult after my sister died. My mother resorted to drinking. I hated her when she was drunk. I had hatched a plan. I had already vowed never to touch another person. Even if the power was no longer mine. But, I found out, I didn’t have to touch things to change them. I thought hard, and changed the alcohol into something else. I should have decided what I would change it into before I did it, though. The doctor said that she died from cyanide poisoning. I could not begin to describe how much that hurt me. I was just trying to help. I hated the doctor and fused the flesh of his lips together so that he could never give anyone this bad of news ever again. A bit of chemistry homework took away my ability to change anyones food or drink ever again. \n\nMy father died shortly after. He was convinced I was some sort of god in human form. He waited on me, hand and foot. Whatever I wanted, he would fetch. I still loved my Dad, so I would try to make these tasks easier for him. He died simply because he said it was a little chilly while I was distracted. I was playing a game he had purchased for me. I heard him say it was chilly and moments later, he came running through the house, covered in flame. I had only though it would be nice for him to be warmer. By the time he got my wits about me, he had succumbed to the fire. Reading up on thermodynamics was a tough one, and not always being at the perfect temperature was annoying, but no one would suffer the same fate as my father. \n\nAnyway, the day I brought my sister back. I was toying around with a frog. I could make his heart stop, and then, moments later, bring it to beat again. I did this over and over again, until I had practiced enough that a frog three weeks dead, long past the point where it would be decaying, could suddenly jump to life, all of its color and vigor restored. After the frog experiment was a success, I walked into my sisters bedroom. Her bones appeared there before my eyes. Then, suddenly, muscle fiber and sinew and organs started to sprout from the bones. The bones themselves took became bright white again in an instant before skin wrapped itself around them. I was embarrassed for a moment before clothes stitched themselves together over her body. \n\nThere she was. A perfect recreation of my sister. But, merely a recreation. Unlike the frog, she did not jump to life. She sat there, motionless, staring at nothing. What was the problem!? Everything in her was exactly right. I was very careful to learn what the inside of the body looked like without learning an ounce of physics. I could move whatever I want, and dammit, I had it right. Hours of sitting on the floor, taking my sister apart bit by bit and reassembling her when by. She was perfect, the body and brain worked exactly correctly. Then it hit me, after my father had died, I was alone. I delved into religion. I devoured every holy book I could find. I wanted to find that there was a deeper meaning to everything. I still don’t know if there is. Maybe I’m it. But, what I do know a lot about, is the soul. I had given away the one thing I had always wanted. My sister. I knew that I could never have her. Knowledge was infallible. Once it was there, it never left. I could never gain, or regain, the power to bring my sister’s soul back from wherever it was. \n\nI shattered the meat doll that was supposed to be my sister. I hated it, and I hate these powers. It was at this point, I decided. I would become the worlds greatest scholar. I will know everything. If I can’t have my family back, I’ll avenge them by destroying the ignorance that took them from me. ", "\"You don't know newtons laws of motion? Well the second law-\" he stopped talking as I touched his forehead lightly and it exploded with the force of a wrecking ball focused in an area the size of a thimble. I'm not sure what he was telling me but I'd rather not know. I like these powers of mine. After that last scientist told me about temperature I got cold. Newtons laws of motion? Sounds like it might stop me from teleporting. Wouldn't that be a pain. " ]	2
	[WP] You're an NPC who is aware that they are a part of a D&D campaign. The campaign has been going badly. Both the players and the DM are thinking about quitting. You want to live, and can't let this happen.	[ "\"Raaaghghgh!!\" Screamed Thod, the gnome barbarian as he attempted to strike the lich not 1 grid away from him, I watched as the axe cleaved through the undead lord dealing some damage \"decent roll, well done\" I thought to myself as I awaited my turn. Oh no, I'm not a player, just a poor 'npc' who rolled a high perception score under some buff effect, it was then that I realised what I was and how my world worked. You see, I am a guard of a town (the name matters little) and as I said, I gained sentience, well now I follow the 'party' around in a vain hope to live a bit longer.\nswoosh oh, that spell caught the wizard who is looking rather worse off, do excuse me for a moment\nsounds of casting\n\nAhh much better, sorry about that but I couldn't let one of the die like that. You see it's like this, if they die then I too will die, well it's worse than that as I will actually just cease to exist. I realised that these people are the embodiment of God's, they created my world and only through their continuing interest does my world still exist. So it was I decided to tag along and help them, I mean someone has to look after them right? They seemed so inept when they first stumbled into my town, it was like watching a baby that could wield a greataxe (terrifying I know).\n\nmore explosions sigh... there goes the last tribe member of the \"wunker wunker\" tribe (urgh, those poor sods, the gods thought it would be funny to name it that.\n\nAnyway where was I? Oh yes, when they arrived our town was under siege by zombies (yes I know, basically the first encounter for them) and whilst their skill in combat was pretty good it seemed like they knew nothing of the world around them, bizzare. Ofc it was only after my \"awakening\" I saw them as they truly are, how should they know about history point X when it never actually happened, it's just 'backstory'. Others say this world is ancient, millenia old, but really it never existed before they first stumbled into town. Oh hold on a moment would you\n\nclashes and clangs of weaponry followed by some footsteps\n\nRight, action and move done, now to wait again whilst the others are debating the 'challenge rating' of this thing and discussing strategy. Ok, back to me then.\nYes, it was that moment I decided to join them, someone had to make sure they don't die, I want to exist and so I will protect them for as long as I am able. At least they seem to like me enough to help me in return with healing and new weapons. Well, that's all for now. Better go roll some dice, tally ho", "I've been tending the inn and pub for the past 30 sessions, ever since my uncle was killed in a bar fight started by that damned paladin going after yet another \"heretic.\" Things in Bobloblawtowne (I seriously need to find out who named our quaint hamlet) are fairly predictable, but our very unoriginal lord has been thinking of folding up our little realm of existence because Conan Bonebreaker can't just act like a normal person and starts killing everything in sight, always screaming about his need for more experience, whatever he means by that, and he mopes around after that.\n\nThey keep coming here expecting some meaningful quest or guidance, and they walk away disappointed, as the lord has always taken an interest in them, but hasn't really helped them like he did in setting my room prices, which thankfully have gone up as they keep coming back with massive amounts of gold.\n\nThe lord has need for a quest, and boy I am giving him one. I have been talking up legends of an ancient map handed down through my family for generations to the rest of the village, but in truth I drew up some scribbles around a map of the known world and a few elvish words to make it look fancy. I crumpled up the scroll, poured mead on it and straightened it out after it dried. This now ancient-looking map will lead them all around the world on a trail of breadcrumbs. It should take those chumps at least another 100 sessions to go everywhere and get everything. At the end of it all, I hired a jester to mock them for going on such a long journey for nothing. And that wizard just north of town should be able to kill that Conan, maybe give my patrons a break whenever they come back into town. Maybe the lord will find a new adventurer to join his chosen few, one who is not a total tool.\n\nThen again, my lord is a bit of a tool and I doubt he will, but I, and the world, will live for a while longer." ]	2
	[WP] You're having a fun night out with someone you met at a bar, but at the most awkward moment that it could possibly happen you find out he/she is a werewolf	[ "I had met Lucy at the bar the other night, where after we had had a few drinks together, she gave me her number and address and asked me to \"come over sometime soon.\" I gave her mine, and we parted ways. I had the perfect date in mind: a walk under the full moon through her neighborhood, and it would be tonight.\n\nI called her to let her know I was coming over and told her of my plans for the night. She gave me the okay, though she seemed a bit... nervous. I would soon find out why.\n\nWhen I arrived at her house, I found out she didn't exactly live in a neighborhood, unless you counted a community of forest creatures as one, with a log cabin set amidst the trees with a beat-up pickup truck sitting in the dirt driveway. Pulling up next to it, I saw that the windows seemed to be dark; hopefully, she wasn't asleep. Knocking on the door, she opened it, letting out a flood of light that revealed the blackout curtains drawn across each window. She was dressed scrappily, with a raggedy t-shirt and pre-stressed jeans. \"What are you staring at me for?\" she asked. \"Let's go before I change.\" Only a few minutes later, I would find out what she meant by that: As soon as we started out on a footpath, she started shaking uncontrollably, hyperventilating. I put my arms around her, saying it was okay. \"No, Garrett, it is not okay. You see, I'm a-a-\" And then she let out a howl.\n\nStunned, I watched transfixed as her clothes tore while fur grew all over her swelling body, and she changed into a lycanthropic form: a wolf's head over a muscular human-ish body, with a tail, digitigrade feet, and clawed hands and paws... and the complete inability to speak articulately. Looking at me with her now-yellow eyes, she howled as she bit me on my leg as I tried backing away, and I howled; at first in pain, but then as a werewolf myself.\n\n___\n\n/r/SupersuMC_Stories" ]	1
	[WP] You're an assassin with a 100% success rate, but never get within a mile radius of your victims.	[ "I've been killing people for a while now. It's a fun job. At least it is when you don't have to see your victim die. I should explain. I'm an artist. I paint for a living. The funny thing is my paintings tend to kill their subjects. I first noticed when I was practicing as a kid. I would paint flowers. Within hours of their being painted, they would wither away to nothing. My mother thought she was a horrible gardener, but she tried and tried to make our flowers stay alive for the longest time. But I had a feeling I knew better. \n\nWhen I was 20, I decided to test it. I had long since turned my power into a superstition. I painted abstract art instead. Fake houses or aliens or whathaveyou. But I kept thinking back to my childhood flowers. I had to test it somehow. So I gave in. I went to the middle of the forest and painted a lone tree. I found a tall birch with a sturdy lively trunk and painted away. I was very careful to just get that tree and not the surrounding trees in the painting. I wasn't sure how much of my power would translate.\n\nWhen I was done, I compared the two. It seemed that I had painted the tree a little too lively at first. Then I realized that my painting was true to form. My subject had changed. The tree was losing its leaves before my quivering tearfilled eyes. I wasn't crazy after all.\n\nIn college, my girlfriend of two years wanted me to paint her. I steadfastly refused. When she asked why not, I told her frankly. My paintings kill their subjects. She laughed it off, thinking I was joking and never brought it up again.\n\nAnother year had passed. I was with her still. On our three year anniversary, she got hit by a car on her way home. It was a hit and run. She had to be put on a ventilator. She had been paralyzed from the shoulders down. Luckily she could just barely write. \n\nShe described her story. She was walking home looking forward to a day with me. We had both asked for the day off of work and didn't have class until the end of the weekend, so it was going to be our day. She parked across the street since someone -- my mother -- had parked in her usual spot. Something she did all the time. As she crossed, a car came around the corner.\n\nAfter hitting her, the kids tumbled out of the car. There were two of them. She could only see the driver though. The passenger didn't walk around the car into her field of view. But she heard him. He pleaded with the driver to call an ambulance. But the driver refused. She got a good look at him. She was able to describe him to a police sketch artist. I got a good look at him.\n\nYou can imagine where this lead.\n\nMy girlfriend died the next day of complications. They found the kid dead in his parents house. Died of an aneurism. That was my first killing.\n\nI realized this would be an easy way to pay for art school. By commissioning paintings of the people who others want dead. As it happens, I can paint a picture of someone in any capacity and they'll turn up dead. Aneurism. I've been selling my commissions for three years now. And I doubt I'll ever be caught." ]	1
	[WP] When mortals in our universe die, they become the gods of other universes. The type of god they become depends on their skill set when they were alive. You are a worldbuilder.	[ "Euke'narazétih, or Alberto, had crafted his first piece of land many centuries ago. A barren piece of land crafted out of a single piece of flat clay. The people of these lands named it Ond'enai, the long fields. He had come far since then, he now could craft entire oceans as if it was nothing.\n\nAs he ran his hand through the soft clay, he longed for times past. He could barely remember his name. Not the one that the people bestowed upon him, but his real name. \n\nAlberto, he remembered. He had been named in honor of his grandfather as tradition mandated. Just like people in this realm name their sons. he thought.\n\nHe saw something wrong in the clay. A corner that was not supposed to be there. Euke'narazétih reached for his pallet and carefully removed the excess clay, making sure to smooth out the area he just prodded. It still felt incomplete. Unfinished.\n\nHe remembered these sensations from his human days. Even though Alberto could no longer remember the faces of his family, or the scents of his home, he still could recall sensations, feelings. A shiver shot through his spine as a fuzzy memory flashed in his mind.\n\nBut he had learned to let those images go. As much as he tried to make out what he saw in his own mind, he never managed to create more than a single, distorted scene. Some invoked warmth, closeness. Others called for a biting cold through his body, and some others would make Alberto, the worldbuilder, cry in despair.\n\nWith time and practice, he had learned to take his frustation out on the clay. He'd build himself a new home in this new world.\n\nEuke'narazétih took the small piece of clay he had separated before. He looked at it closely for what could have been hours. Finally, he used his tools to place it back where it was. Some things are better left untouched, he thought.\n\nWith a snap of his fingers, the mountain-chain-shaped clay vanished from his working table. Somewhere far, the earth shaked violently as new peaks rose from the ground, slowly forming mountains.\n\nThe smile on the worldbuilder's face slowly faded away. The pride he felt over such an intrincate set of mountains dwimbled as his mind wandered to that dark place, where memories of his past laid buried.\n\n>Such was the price to pay for the worldbuilders\n\n" ]	1

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