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] I could really use a comedy right now, so please tell me about two cat ladies arguing over which cat belongs to whom.	[ "\"Oh do I have something special for you!\" Doris said affectionately to the creature as she pulled a cough drop out of her purse. \n\nThe animal dexterously struggled through the cellophane wrapping to reveal a disappointing surprise. It instinctively gave it a few nibbles before dropping it to the ground. \n\n\"He doesn't eat cough drops!\" snapped Esther. \"Here, mama has a biscuit.\"\n\nEsther reached in her pocket and unfolded a napkin-wrapped hunk of green jello. It grabbed the dessert, napkin and all, before she could barter with it for a trick. \n\n\"Well that's not proper food for a kitty either! And you're going to confuse him calling yourself 'mama.'\"\n\n\"Goodness, I may not have birthed it, but its like a child to me,\" Esther retorted, petting the animal which was fully fixated on the green glob. \"And I can't get it food anymore since they took my dang license away! It's not right I tell you, I have been driving my whole life. Now all I can get for Fanny is some spare dessert from diner.\"\n\n\"That's not what I mean Esther, you know darn well that cat is mine! And it's name is Bandit. I named him for that precious robber mask he got over his eyes.\"\n\n\"You're not takin' him from me Doris! I lost my license but I'm not gonna lose Fanny!\" Esther snapped, pulling her beloved cat into a protective hug. It reached frantically for the napkin it had been torn from. \n\nDoris and Esther continued to argue on their solitary park bench on the front lawn of Merry Meadows Senior Care Center until they were startled by a sudden shriek behind them. The trio turned around to see a panicked nurse grasping a stick defensively.\n\n\"PUT THAT DOWN ESTHER! I'M CALLING ANIMAL CONTROL!\" the nurse shouted. \n\n\"Run for it Fanny,\" Esther whispered in it's ear while lowering him gently to the grass. \n\nThe indifferent racoon waddled away, pondering whether the mediocre goo glob was worth it.\n\n" ]	1
Got me thinking, what if god was really just a slobbish looking neckbeard guy unknowingly playing a life simulation game from his couch that had effects on the events of Earth.	[WP] "What if god was one of us, just a slob like one of us."	[ "It was two in the afternoon already and He still wasn't up. To say this had been going on for the last three weeks would be kind. To say it's been closer to an eternity would be more accurate. \n\nI've been taking care of Father ever since He lost His creative spark. The flood gave Him all sorts of issues. He kept second guessing Himself. He'd always come to me for validation. \n\n\"Was I too harsh? I mean I'm trying. I'm really trying over here. Be honest with me, Son. Am I a bad guy? Am I a bad Dad?\" \n\nIn the early days, reassurance was all too common. With a common roll of the eyes, I'd typically reply with, \"No, Father. You are perfect. For sin is not a part of your character. You are the Almighty One. Remember?\" \n\nI knew I was just enabling Him, delaying the inevitable. His ego was the helium and the world was His balloon, and it was ready to pop. It didn't help that every angel in heaven needlessly fed Him compliments as if He were an out of work actor who was trying to land the most important role of His career. \n\nAt least I didn't initiate the enabling. I waited for Him to come to Me like a normal person. He'd sheepishly approach Me with an abundance of self-pity and insecurity that He would try to disguise as 'the torment He endured from the sin of mankind.' He thought He was subtle and that He had always cleverly chosen His words. Look who He was talking to. I'm the Son of God for Christ's sake. \n\nAfter hemming and hawing over every little thing (you should have seen this guy with the Ten Commandments; what a perfectionist) for what seemed like forever, you could see He was starting to get frustrated. \n\nThis was the point where everything was done out of spite or wrath. Chastise this, set fire to that. Keep in mind that this behavior lasted for a few thousand years. I mean, I love the big guy but enough's enough already. \n\nAs centuries turned into millenia, He was growing weary and was noticeably overwhelmed. That's when He gave Me My human form and decided it wasn't His problem anymore. This was the first sign of My Father truly giving up. \n\nAt first it was a late night out here and there. Then, it turned into a few nights a week and before you knew it, God was falling down drunk and groping angels in the middle of harp solos. \n\nMeanwhile, I'm on earth trying to forgive all of humankind for their selfish, fucked up behavior. \n\nDo you know what my Heavenly Father was doing while I was on the cross, screaming out His name in wonder to why He had forsaken Me? He was on the John, reading the 1983 July edition of Hustler magazine. He later confessed He couldn't stop gawking at Marilyn on the cover. Thanks, Dad. \n\nYou haven't heard the half of it yet. Fast forward to yesterday. It's 2:00 pm and He's still sleeping in from a late night of debauchery and drinking games... with Himself! \n\nLet me give you a little diagram of what the House of God has looked like for the last 2,000 years. \n\nWhen you first walk in, the foyer is just an explosion of laundry. You've truly never seen so many dirty, white robes. The coat rack was dismantled a couple hundred years ago to create some type of sword fighting experience. God was still stuck in medieval times and thought it was \"fun.\" \n\nWe used to have a grand piano. Let's just say that this is God's primary subject used for blowing off steam. His anger is not like anger you're accustomed to seeing. He can smash his fist down and shatter most household items from hundreds of miles away. He's got a thing for this piano though. So much so that he keeps reassembling it after his tantrums. The piano is in pieces at the moment. This honestly concerns Me, as it might mean YHWH is spiraling a little further downward than I'm used to seeing. \n\nMoving into the living room, we have a sectional that now looks like a pack of two year old Labradors were left alone with it for the better part of their young lives. \n\nCovering the living room and dining room floors are a collection of mouse traps, taco mixings, and an obscene amount of Kleenex. \n\nThe bathroom really isn't that bad. This is mostly because Dad rarely uses it. He loves pissing on anything He's not supposed to and He constantly boasts about His upper deck dumps. I've caught some turds in the kitchen sink before as well, so I can only imagine He finds some sneaky places to shit and then giggles about it. The last time Father took a shower was definitely before the Industrial Age. It is ripe in here. \n\nThe kitchen is just crumbs, roaches and open boxes of mini Ritz bits cheese sandwiches. \n\nIf you can get into His room (your best chance is if He is severely passed out), you'll find yourself knee high in empty Jim Beam bottles, a porn collection in the corner, and cartons upon cartons of Virginia Slim 120s. That last one is a BIG secret! I'm not sure what would happen if He found out the whole gang up here knows He smokes them, but it wouldn't be pretty. \n\nThe basement is mostly just tools and an extra fridge for beer. There is a massive big screen TV down there, just in case God gets rowdy and wants to 'roid out on some football.\n\nI was in the living room, seething and waiting for the Lord Almighty to present Himself so I could give Him My daily lecture and get on with My day already. \n\nIt was then that I heard a faint snicker. It sounded like it came from a thirteen old boy but I knew it was Him. He hadn't been sleeping at all the entire time. He started drinking early in the morning and I just knew it was going to be one of those days. \n\n\"Goddammit! Dad! Get out here. We need to talk!\" \n\nThe house went silent. I could see His shit-eating grin in My mind. Yes. It was going to be one of those days. \n\nThe door came creaking open, ever so slowly. Then, His head just barely poked out and sure as shit, that stupid, immature face that I had grown to resent lit up the room.\n\nThat's one thing that really pisses me off about Him. It doesn't matter if He's kind and caring or a perverted asshole. He is always surrounded by an awesome, radiating glow. It's bright and beautiful and it's just not right. \n\nHis shiny presence crept further out into the hallway revealing a mostly naked Man-like beast who had clearly had fifty too many bourbons. He had mangled His robe to loosely cover His proud specimen that He enjoyed so much. \n\nHe did a dance that was an odd combination of ballet, tap and river dancing. He looked at me, expecting me to be impressed and finally blurted out, \"What? You're no fun anymore. You haven't been fun in ages.\" \n\n\"You haven't been sober in over nineteen hundred years.\" \n\n\"Shut up! You think this is easy for Me?\" \n\nHe had that look on His face. The same one He gets right before He turns off \"Terms of Endearment\" and runs to His room, whimpering. He was able to gather Himself, but then His tone changed to a snotty one. \n\n\"You don't know what it's like. Spoiled your whole life. Oh, look at Me. I can walk on water. Watch this water turn to wine. Fish, fish. Bread, bread.\" \n\nThe mocking was really out of control, even for Him. \n\n\"Dad. I really don't even know what to--\" \n\n\"I've been performing miracles since before You were born!\" \n\nThen, in the blink of an eye, he snapped and burst into tears. \n\nYou might feel sorry for the guy. Emotional turmoil, addiction, depression. \n\nDon't. Even I only have so much patience. He's lazy, inconsiderate and makes no effort to change. \n\nBut, being the good Son that I am, of course I sauntered over to Him and consoled Him. I gently put My arm around Him. I rested His head on My shoulder. He looked pathetic. Like a sad, confused creature who had just averted a predator. \n\nThis was My Father. He has no hope. He got lost in a dark path that led to self-indulgence and irreverent madness. Even the all powerful, all knowing Ones have their moments of weakness. His has just happened to last the majority of the age of civilization. \n\nBut He's my Dad. And I love Him. On the other hand, if He keeps this up for another couple thousand years, I may not be quite so forgiving. " ]	1
	[WP] The AI is trying to kill all humans to reduce the total number of humans going to hell.	[ "Rain clattered relentlessly on the windshield and was pushed aside by the wipers, which worked in a hasty rhythm. I stopped my car directly in front of the house to which I had been called, a totally run-down apartment building looking just like all the other buildings in this street. \n\nBefore I had the chance to make my arrival known, the front door flung open and two figures hurried through the downpour to my backseat. \n\n\"To the hospital, quick!\", demanded the man who had entered the car second and shut the door. Without further ado, I maneuvered the car back onto the street and started into the direction of the closest hospital, which was about ten blocks away. \n\nSoon I was stopped by a red traffic light. I took a glance in the rear view mirror. The other passenger was a woman who cowered on the seat behind me so that I couldn't get a good look at her because she was covered in a shabby dark coat. As she was the one groaning at a stretch, she was probably the one seeking medical attention. \n\n\"What's wrong?\", I asked with curiosity. \n\nThe woman didn't react to my question, but her companion answered: \"She is in labour.\" \n\nMy eyes went wide when I realized what this meant. \"Are you stupid?\"\n\nFlabbergasted the man knit his brows. \"What's your problem, man?\"\n\nI quickly realized that I was right. I had picked up these people from a de facto slum, so it was actually very likely that they did not know what was going on. The fact that hospitals weren't safe for giving birth anymore was not common knowledge. I had found out about it in course of my software engineering studies. Driving people around was only a side job to keep myself afloat.\n\nThis put me in a very tricky situation. If I kept silent, that unborn baby would die before it reached its first birthday. But where exactly was I to bring these people instead? \n\nThe light turned green, and my car floated along with the traffic, my motions to steer it were done unconsciously as my mind was occupied with something else. \n\n\"What's your problem, man?\", the man repeated his question because I had not reacted to it. I felt pressured to give an answer. What was I to do? It would most certainly trigger a panic if the public found out what was going on, which was why everything was kept under wraps. But I couldn't just send a new family to its demise either. \n\nThe moaning of the woman behind me grew louder and more pained. Goddamn it, I thought and turned right at the next crossing.\n\nThe voice of the man sounded panicked as he shouted: \"What are you doing, the hospital is straight ahead! Can't you see this is an emergency?\" \n\n\"I am trying to save that childs life, so stay put, okay?\" I hissed back. I really wasn't the 'hero' type of guy, but in this moment I had found my resolve: I would bring those two to the dorms of the medical apartment at my university. Certainly there would be people willing to help. It was our best shot. If all went well, I wouldn't even need to explain why this had been necessary. This could actually work.\n\nExcept the man had no intention to stay put. An unfamiliar clicking sound from the backseat made me check the rear view again. I stared right down the barrel of a small handgun. Looked like this wouldn't work so smoothly after all. I tried to calm myself with the rationale that the man couldn't exactly shoot me and risk an accident hurting the pregnant woman. Still I felt the blood drain from my face.\n\n\"Drive to the f***ing hospital! What is going on here?\", the man screamed in anger. There was no way to change directions for another 300 meters and traffic moved slow, so I wouldn't be able to do as he said right away. I could only talk to calm the man with the gun right now. \n\nMy resolve to save a life but prevent a nationwide panic vanished as fast as it had formed. The gun made me prioritize the life though, so I talked: \"Ehm, you know, a hospital is the last place you want to bring your child to these days. There is an AI running crazy right now, trying to kill babies and small children, and hospitals are too easily hacked.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" This was the first time the woman said something.\n\n\"The framework for the AI was sold on the dark net and some religious splinter group got its hands on it. Obviously they knew next to nothing about AI. The best thing they came up with was turning it into some missionary tool and programming it to make sure humans won't go to hell. They definitely had something different in mind, but that's the problem with AI - you don't really know what it will do to reach its goal. That is why there was this agreement to not let AIs have access to the internet, but those people ignored that as well. So now there is this AI with access to the whole world wide web trying to make sure people won't have the chance to sin so that they will go to hell according to the set of rules it was taught. And apparently the AI came to the conclusion that the simplest way to achieve this goal is to kill a human before it has the chance to sin. The younger the better apparently. But if you have sinned already, the AI won't come after you apparently, it sees you as a lost cause, so almost all grown ups are safe.\" \n\n\"Are you serious?\" The man had lowered his gun and was obviously confused. \n\nAlthough in pain, the woman asked simply: \"Which religion?\" \n\n\"Christianity, I think.\" I answered. I wondered what this woman was thinking.\n\n\"Then it's safe!\", she said relieved, and she sounded oddly convinced of it. \n\n\"How could that be?\", I wanted to know.\n\n\"You see, Hank and I aren't married, so our child is a bastard.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You've been able to see people's souls since birth. They take on shapes of animals, creatures, even sometimes just a blob. Except this person, they don't seem to have one...	[ "A woman walks past me on the sidewalk. \"Umm, excuse me\", I just spurt out- blocking her path.\n\n\"Uhh, can I help you?\", she replies- shocked.\n\n\"I'm not even going to play around; what the hell are you, and where have you come from\", I sputter, not realizing what I've just asked.\n\nShe goes wide eyed. \"I knew you were like me. I just didn't want to endanger myself, who knows what kind of person you were\"!\n\n\"What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean?\". She pulls out a mirror from her purse, and shows me my reflection.\n\n\"What, what's this supposed to mean? All I see is me\". I simply don't understand what she's saying. What is she? What does she think I am?\n\n\"Exactly. Haven't you ever wondered why you can't see your own? I mean think about it, doesn't it seem strange\"?\n\nMy mind shuts out whatever she says. \"No. No, no way. You're wrong. You're dead wrong. There's no way you can be right about this, not a single chance- I know it! I know it\"! Could it be? I can see them everywhere, and I could always see them, always remember them... could I really not have one? What does that make me? What am I?!\n\n\"It's okay, only people- or things, like us can recognize others, well, like us\".\n\n\"And what is this 'us'? And what do you mean things\"?\n\n\"Well, we're not exactly humans... we're not even alive... we're dead. From all of the ones I've seen, nobody has ever spoken to me. And I haven't to them, to keep myself safe. I've done a lot of soul searching... I mean- never mind. It appears that the reason we're still here is because we just don't know how to leave. The ones with those things inside of them are alive\".\n\n\"But.. but they can see us? They can talk to us, I have a job! A desk, with my name on it! Explain that\"!\n\n\"Just because we're dead doesn't mean we're ghosts. We're just cursed...\"\n\n\"Cursed?\"\n\n\"Yes. I know this is difficult to understand, but you'll understand soon enough. Trust me. Let me ask you, what's the first thing you remember. Heading off to kindergarten? Your first words? Learning to walk? Crawl\"?\n\n\"What does it matter? I-...\", I silence. The first memory I can remember is of a plane. I'm getting off, I had just landed in New York. My God, that was eight years ago. \"How? My first memory is only eight years ago. I'm thirty six for fucks sake\".\n\n\"Your memory\"?\n\n\"Oh, sorry... it was, umm... well, I was getting off a plane. I landed here.. from Houston. I remember it was in January. January 25th\".\n\nShe pulls out her phone, and Google's my flight. \"Well, unfortunately, you didn't. You see, that flight never made it here. It made it, here\". She points towards a some open space in Texas. \"This post says the plane was having problems with the stabilizers, and it plummeted towards the ground after two of the engines shut down. Look here, all of the airline companies eventually sued Boeing and Rolls-Royce, and both companies shut down. They all switched to Airbus\".\n\nI'm speechless. I simply don't understand. My mind races to find a way to refute this evidence, but it gives up. \"Why? Why am I still here? What did I do wrong\"?\n\n\"You'll have to figure that out for yourself. Don't work yourself up over it, there's tons of us out here. At least now you'll notice us, and keep a lookout. Who knows, maybe you can help someone understand it too? Anyways, I've gotta go. See you around.\". \n\nShe just walks past me. It's as if she's gone through this stage a hundred times. What was I to do? Just go on to work? Is this all I can do? How can I just go back to my normal life? I'm dead! It's not even normal! It's not my life! ... I make it to work, and I just sit there. Nothing. It goes on like this for weeks. Nobody notices. Nobody cares. It's like they know it doesn't matter. I continue to check my bank account, and it never changes. No matter what I do. I can't afford anything over it, and I can't lose any of it. I'm stuck. I'm in limbo, and I have absolutely no idea how to get out of it. With this newfound knowledge, I'm feeling things I've never felt before... it's all the same, but different. I'm a slave to this world. I'm nothing.", "Since I've first opened my eyes I had ability to see this thick, colorful auras radiating form inside of people. These auras, they are souls. I can't explain how exactly I know that, I took it as a fact for my whole life...And you know when they say everyone is unique? Well, I guess it's true: I have never seen two same auras. \n\nSometimes souls look like animals or faces, sometimes everyday objects and sometimes creatures that don't resemble anything from world visible to you. From time to time, it can be funny: when you see fat guy with KFC bucket-shaped soul, but it can also be horrifying, like a man with just a grey smudge inside him.\n\nBut noting had ever scared me more then the person I'm trying to follow right now. \nThis person is empty! I can't see soul of any form. There's just nothing! When I look for aura, I see just empty space surrounded by souls of other people. And wherever this emptiness goes, all souls seem to fade away!\nWhat does it mean? How can someone be without soul? Can they steal somebody else's soul? If so, I must protect people from this abomination! I must stop it.\n\nI'm speeding up towards empty space in front of me, and finaly I can see back of my nemesis. I yell: \"hey, you!\". She turns around, her green eyes looking straight into my soul, her full lips curved in mysterious smile, and sun making her long red hair glow like strongest flames around her face: \"who, me?\" \nAs I looked at her I knew only one thing: the world will have to survive without souls." ]	2
	[WP] You're sitting at work listening to the radio. The music changes, and you mutter "Not this damn song"	[ "But you couldn't change it, you and all the other employees at the sweat shop were trapped listening to the anthem of the brutal regime that forced you to work day in and out for nothing.\n\nAs you continued making Apple cell phones there was only one certainty, at any time you could go up to the roof and end it all but you knew your family would starve and your daughter would not be wanted by your chinese overlords unless she too got a back breaking occupation for the American swine machine.\n\nYou worked 10 hours overtime that evening and into the morning to meet the demand of the new iPhone sales, when you were finally able to return home you felt followed, as always.\n\nUpon your return you couldn't wait to see your wife and children, the only beacon of light in the life you miserably wanted to escape, but as you opened the door you were instead met by an officer and soldiers.\n\n\"What is this?\" The commandant stared into you with piercing eyes, holding the bible you read to your family every night.\n\n\"Where is my family?\" You feel nothing but sorrow because deep down you knew what had happened\n\n\"Take him away\" the guards start to walk towards you when suddenly you snap and run at them.\n\nUnfortunately, they put you down like the replaceable dog you are; you float away into nothiness, and what seems like an eternity passes before awaking into perfect contentment.\n\nYou see your wife and children, they are smiling, the nightmare is finally over" ]	1
	[WP] In a world where no one ever dies, you are an assassin.	[ "\n\nI, Howie T. made my way through the city in a PC. I hated how the level of the PC’s always ran at the 37th floor. It was so arbitrary, and never made sense to me in any way. What was the formative aspect for selecting that range of space to fly at? I waved my hand to my left temple. I was focusing in on the unparticular details again. These least important considerations floated in like swamp water into my own Bubbled ™ hospitable bath tub. It was my one flaw; I mouthed those words, but stop halfway through. My PTA rang silently, I clacked the pad’s oval button. The last software running popped up with the glow of the screen in the dark cabbie PC. I tapped my fingers against the glass - my karma-ish-germinating actions weren’t going so well. Of course, I knew the ultimate action of the plan was like, quite bad karma. But did I have to, really, flame the fans, sort to speak? One day five years ago, I asked my blood spiritual-leader, visiting, a second uncle (although now strictly – ‘spirit leader’) but the dude was so lost in generations of tech, he lamented some rule of always being in a state of doing good and such. My local shep said, he laid it out real clear though: thou shall do honest and godly actions in the dishonest world as God Judges you everywhere. God knows all.\n\nI concurred with Dee though, when he said: “Would ur god, like, send you to hell for killing a data node? Like basically one step up from a piece of paper.” Yeah, I said, but some dude or gal has put like a shit-ton, straight up eons of time, into that computer file slash person. Dee nodded, “If I was any good, I’d do it for just the few dollars - my man.” I was repping it with Dee for a while, but I thought about his sense of the matter at hand. He was right. The money was good, and being good gives you good back – is what they say to me in pastoral like testimonies. Now I was seeing the fruits of their words arise or drop from trees, and it was an exciting moment to see the man of truth come around after so much talk. I’d do it. I hoped out of the cabbie on a landing zone and smiled. The PTA showed a pic of the dude someone wanted gone. He’d be a lvl 1 dope when I was done with him. \n", "She's feeling worse today. I saw her yell at the kids last night. Normally she doesn't do that. She's sleeping more, too. The house is getting cluttered, and she was late to turn in her part of the big project at work. I'm getting there. \n\nI've been watching her for a while. Of all my assignments, she's been one of the toughest to take down. She's too damn happy all the time. But I always get them in the end. That's why they assign the toughest jobs to me. I have a reputation. \n\n---\n\nI caught her again today, in the supermarket. Brushed past her - she didn't even notice. She even apologized to me. After she turned around though, I saw her shudder. She wouldn't have known why she felt suddenly hopeless for no reason. But there I was. \n\n---\n\nShe's strong. She's fighting back harder than any of my marks in the past. She started a new painting today, lashing angrily at the canvas, her claws made of paint. She didn't know she was fighting me off. It's ok. I always get them in the end. \n\n---\n\nI can't explain this. No other mark has lasted this long. I know the serum is working; I see her crying on the closet floor. She fights with her husband, she stares at the mirror and thinks hateful thoughts about herself. But still she paints. \n\n---\n\nI've been let go. She sold five of her new paintings to a gallery. And she paints more every day. The more I push her down, the stronger she fights. \n\nThe higher ups said they can't ignore it any more. They've given her to \"someone who can get the job done\". I laughed when they told me. I know I'm good at my job. If I can't stop her, no one can. But to whatever sorry bastard is assigned to her next, go ahead. Go ahead and try to take her down. I've grown to like this one. Looks like you'll have to fight me now, too. ", "314 years ago, the last person too poor to afford the treatments died. The world changed a lot that day. Of course it did. Stakes got lowered, and life became less of a journey and more of a maintenance task. Language changed, too, though in subtle ways. Death became an abstract concept -- something that only happened to animals, or in history books. Medicine became the amelioration of symptoms, the art of dulling pain and providing comfort. And an assassin? Well, an assassin still does the same thing he always did. He makes a person go away forever. The methods just needed some updating.\n\nMy clients see me, understandably, as someone who can do the impossible. They pay me accordingly, and they are terrified of what they think I'm capable of. Maybe if they knew what I really did, they'd be even more afraid. You can't kill someone anymore. Not in any of the old ways. Nanomachines will break down poison, repair a wound, and even generate oxygen for the brain. I don't have any special tricks to get around it. The marketing is true: Death has Died (tm)\n\nBut just because every human in the world is roughly 10% Grey Goo Lite doesn't mean they're impervious. The immortal rich of the world bore easily, and wouldn't abide an endless life with no recreational drugs. The machines stay out of the way of minor, or even major, impairment. They only intervene to prevent death, so if you can make the right cocktail, you can still fully incapacitate anyone.\n\nMy latest quarry is sleeping soundly on my stretcher as I wheel it through the halls of the sub-basement where I do my work. She's chained up in case the drugs wear off, but they almost never do. I transfer her to the capsule, which I prepped yesterday. It's a steel tube, not-coincidentally coffin-sized, fitted with some IV hardware and access ports on the outside. After her body slumps into the capsule, I connect the IV and seal it up. The capsule gets slotted into a cavity in the stone wall. I muse, as I often do, about whether this is like a mausoleum. I've never been to one.\n\nI connect the access ports to a drip of drugs. My clients don't pay me for the comfort of continued sleep. I could let them wake up. I don't know how long the Goo could keep them alive without fresh resources, but it's almost certainly too long to be trapped in the dark. I try not to think about it. My rates more than pay for a steady supply of drugs for my guests. They will sleep peacefully forever.\n\nIf business ever dries up, though, I'm going to really hate the fact that I can't off myself.", "There are many ways to die. Not all death is physical.\n\nTake Jimmy for example. My latest target. First, I broke him down by tampering with his wife's pregnancy. She died shortly after giving birth to their newborn daughter.\n\nStill, he had hope. He named the girl Casey, and swore to the be the best father ever. \n\nI let him have a few months with her. Just long enough for him to get attached. Then, I took her. She's now growing up with a loving, adoptive family on the other side of the world. \n\nJimmy gave up. Some men are stronger than others, but he wasn't able to take losing his wife and daughter just months apart. And because he can't die, he's forced to live with it for the rest of his existence.\n\nThere are many ways to die. Not all deaths are physical.\n\n\n\n\n", "The Law has been in place for several millenia. The campaigns against it had lasted for centuries, but they were all silenced eventually. The problem was too big to ignore, and they were no other solutions. This truly was the only way.\n\nAs I strolled down the pristine white corridor, I passed the rest of my colleagues on this shift - all getting ready for the day's work ahead. It was going to busy, if previous Sundays were anything to go by.\n\nI reached my office, and my assistant handed me my schedule for the day. 28 appointments. Not bad.\n\n\"Thanks, Amber. Send the first one in please.\"\n\n\"Of course, sir.\"\n\nShe left the office, and soon returned with Lara - a woman I knew very well at this point.\n\n\"Lara, how are you this morning?\"\n\n\"Great, thanks. And you?\", she smiled. Lara had chosen to stop the aging process in her early 20s, and I felt a familiar pang of regret that I had waited until my late 30s to put a stop to mine. Still though, nothing that can be done about it now.\n\n\"Same as usual?\" I asked, already knowing the answer.\n\n\"Yep, I'm only 2 weeks along so there shouldn't be any issue, right?\" she asked, and lay down on the operating table.\n\n\"Of course not\", I replied, as she removed her lower garments. My assistant administered the sedative as I turned on the machine and got it ready. The fetus would be terminated quickly and quietly, and then I'd deal with the rest of my appointments for the day. My shift would be over soon. Just 3 and a half more decades, and I'd have time off. An entire century of free time. I smiled to myself, and got to work." ]	5
	[WP] You're at a party when nature calls, so you rush to find a toilet. As soon as you shut the door behind you, you find that there's something very strange about this particular bathroom.	[ "Josh was having a lovely evening. His boss and her husband turned out to be quite the charming couple, and their condo on Main Street was grander than he could have imagined. He was bedazzled by the twelve-foot ceilings, the intricate woodwork, and especially the chandeliers that seemed to be everywhere he looked.\n\nThe wine was working its way through him, so he politely asked the location of the bathroom and made his way there. Opening the door, he was greeted by a room that was probably bigger than his own bedroom. Two magnificent scones lined a mirror that was framed in marble. The sink handles looked to be made out of gold, and the spout was in the shape of a lion head. \n\nAs Josh closed the door behind him and turned around to find the lock, he heard a clink coming from the knob. He tried the handle to find that it had locked automatically. A little perturbed by the automatic mechanism, he examined the knob and door for some kind of release to no avail. As he expanded his search, he noticed an engraved plaque on the door, which read:\n\nYou must make a deposit to leave the water closet. \n\nJosh read the sign a few times and was thoroughly confused at to what was transpiring. His boss was normal; their dinner was normal; what was going on?\n\nQuickly looking around for some sort of coin feeder and finding none, Josh figured that he must use the toilet before he could leave. Wanting to quickly test the theory so he could get out of his current predicament, he turned around to find the toilet. The toilet was by the window, a floor to ceiling window, facing Main Street, with no curtains. \n", "Robert found himself in a very familiar predicament. He'd spent most of the night talking to a lovely young lass who seemed to actually find him interesting however the combination of spiced haggis bon bons mixed with copious amounts of lager was beginning to cause him distress.\n\nHe excused himself and navigated his way through the throng of people lining the hallways of the modest two bedroom flat of which he wasn't sure who actually owned the place. Outside the bathroom door people were congregated, all chatting and laughing. Normal party stuff. Already Robert could feel the anxiety of having to go whilst people were just outside the door, it reminded him of the time his older brother had friends round and jimmied the door open to all revel in how hilarious it was that his younger brother was doing a poo.\n\nRobert squeezed by and entered the bathroom, ensuring to lock the door tight and placed a towel under the door to try and dampen the noise of the incoming splashes. He unfurled toilet paper and placed a layer on the water to try and capture the sound of his shame^tzzt.\n\nTrousers round his ankles he slowly tried to ease himself into it in a feeble attempt to limit the incomming torrent or plops and pumps and finally has time to take in the surroundings. Robert's eye catches a strange occurance, the tile above the sink looks like static from a TV? That can't be right he thought to himself^tzzt^possible^tzzt^waker\n\nThe dire need to relieve himself has receded, he stands and shuffles forward. Trousers still rounds his ankles. A couple of taps on the tile didn't seem to do anything but it is definitely static^tzzt^codebrown.\n\nHe turns the tap to splash some cold water on his face, perhaps too many beers? Before he can even collect water^tzzt^suggest^of---^course-^action? in his hands the water doesn't flow normally, it comes out the tap and begins to flow up!\n\nRobert recoils back, his heart racing, the^tzzt^send^handler sounds of the party still outside. He hears a chap on the door and snaps his head to look.\nA muffled voice calls out \"Sir could you please leave the bathroom, I need to have a word.\"\nHe hesitates but replies meekly \"uh-m give me a few minutes I'm not finished.\" Why would somebody want to have a word with him? He hardly knows anybody here!\nHe hears an electronic beep from behind the door and the same voice say something about Pull him ou-\n\nA flash of light and liquid in his lungs Robert lunges forward but is held fast in place with wires and cables, he coughs up translucent gunk into his hands. He isn't in the bathroom anymore, he doesn't know where he is. A green glow permeates the room with the hum of machinery. He finds himself in a coffin shaped capsule filled with a gloppy liquid.\n\nHis gloppy casket is then surrounded by horrific creatures with rows of eyes and gigantic bulbous heads. They don't have mouths yet Robert can hear them speak in his head with an almost melodious tone.\n\n\"Human, you got too curious for your own good. You have to go back. The glitch you found has already been plugged. You will not see us again\"\n\nThe creature placed it's mandible on his forehead and he felt consciousness slip away...\n\nRobert found himself in a very familiar predicament. He'd spent most of the night talking to a lovely young lass who seemed to actually find him interesting however the combination of spiced haggis bon bons mixed with copious amounts of lager was beginning to cause him distress. He decided to hold it till he got home so he didn't interrupt this lovely conversation." ]	2
	[WP] You keep having ridiculous near death experiences with such frequency that Death has decided to stick around to entertain itself by watching you.	[ "I wait until the walk sign comes up. And then I wait until I am in the middle of the crowd. My heel breaks and I have to stop to fix it. Just then I see a semi hit a motorcycle, and it flies out of the parking space and hurdles towards me. I fall to the ground just in time so that the motorcycle goes right over my head. \n\nShe laughs. I shouldn't be surprised. She laughs every time. Dahlia Death - well known just as Death- bends over and cackles and the debris from the bike flies right through her. She does not look anything like the average person may think. Most days she wears a corset covered by a black body con dress. She wears black Loubiton heels, which match her long, black, stiletto nails. Her hair is pitch black as well and goes all the way down to her hips. The one thing that does not match the rest of her appearance are her eyes. They are peicingly blue. \n\n\"Hahahah! Fourth time this week!\" Dahlia cackles.\n\nI have this kind of tendency to have near death experiences. Dahlia decided about a month ago that she enjoys watching them, and she comes with me every day. She tells me all the time that I should feel happy. That I am stopping other deaths. She tells me that I won't die until she chooses, but that for now, it is a form of entertainment for her. \n\nThe first time I had a near death experience was when I was ten years old or so. Me and my parents thought it was a one time thing, but as I got older, it just happened more often. Dahlia must not have known about me for quite a while because I am 21 now. \n\nI run across the remainder of the street as the red hand comes up. Dahlia saunters across the road as cars go right through her. \n\n\"Well, it is isn't anything new. Why are you so worried?\" she asks. \n\n\"I absolutely hate you. I know that you are making this happen. This is the closest it has ever been. Are you trying to kill me?\" I question her.\n\n\"Yes actually. I have decided it is your time. Do you have a problem with that? Because you know damn well that you can't change it,\" she laughs.\n\nI stop and I feel the blood rush to my head. I grab her arm and drag her into the nearest coffee shop. I pull her into the bathroom.\n\n\"What do you mean, it is my time. You cannot just make me die. Isn't that murder?\" I interrogate her.\n\nShe shrugs, \"Look, the common misconception is that I cause death. That just is not true. Death is a natural thing, it happens without me. I stop death until I think that it is time, and then I let it happen. I am not as horrible as everyone thinks that I am,\".\n\nI turn to the toilet and throw up. Dahlia holds my hair back, but I do not thank her.\n\n\"What do you mean you let it happen?\" I ask shocked,\" How can you just let people die? Why do you let them die?\"\n\n\"Well, like I said, everyone dies sometime. But without me it would happen quite a bit sooner. The fact that the average life span is getting longer is due to us. The people in my line of work have gotten much better at their job, and have found better, more solid ways to stop people from dying,\" Dahlia explains to me.\n\n\"What to you mean, us? Is this a whole company that is just plotting our deaths?\" I ask, feeling like I am going to faint.\n\nShe laughs, \"No, we are not just plotting your deaths, though it may seem that way. We have a building full of people who make your death day, the way you are going to die, and where. I have very little say in all of that, except for when I am able to negotiate with one of them. They are very low on the scale, all they do is sit on computers and choose when people die. I am not one of those. I am out in the streets. I do the real job. I have to stop you all from dying until the date that has been chosen for you. Your date happens to be about 7 years from now. But if I am being honest with you, I looked over your file and it is a long slow death. It is painful, too. So I negotiated and decided to spare you that pain,\" she explains to me, trying to make me agree. \n\nI shake my head to show her that is a horrible idea. I tell her that I want to be living my life the way I want, and that she should let my life play out the way it would have. \n\nShe laughs once more, even though I do not see what is so funny, \"Honey, if I had let you die when you were meant to die, you would have died in that plane crash at 10 years old. I have doubled your life, and you should be grateful. I am sparing you from so much grief, pain, and sadness in the future. You should be happy\".\n\nI almost faint again, but something in me won't let it happen. This is crazy, it can't be happening, I tell myself. Just then I realize that I had been making my wait home, and I had just been stopped. \n\n\"Give your bag, and your shoes, and anything valuable,\" a man in a ski mask and black clothes demands of me.\n\nI do not say anything.\n\nHe starts to speak again, but I can only hear Dahlia Death, \"Do not answer him. He is going to shoot you, but it won't hurt. You will die as soon as it happens. And don't be scared, I will be right here on the other side\". \n\nShe fades away, and the gun goes off. I feel nothing but blackness. As it turns light again, I see Dahlia in her black dress and heels. She had her hands cupped around her mouth, so that I could see the shape of her nails. Around her are many others, and they look like a welcoming committee. \n\nShe comes to me and says, \"Hmm, I did not think you would come this way. Well Daniella Death, welcome to the team,\". ", "Everyone talks about near-death experiences. Sometimes you see a light, or see the family members who have gone before you and are waiting to greet you, or maybe you see yourself dying. And sometimes you get nothing but blackness. For me, I ended up in a coffee shop. \n\nThe shop was completely empty, and quite small. No baristas stood at the counter, but there were fresh looking pastries in a display case. Soft jazz drifted out of some hidden speakers. I never liked jazz. Following standard protocol, I went up the counter and hit the service bell.\n\nThe soft ‘ding’ echoed a little and drowned out the jazz momentarily. Nothing happened. I turned around and scanned the shop again, and when I turned back there was suddenly a man behind the counter. I jumped back in surprise, despite knowing he’d suddenly appear. He liked pulling this stunt.\n\n“Hello Anne.” The man said.\n\nI glanced down at his shirt out of habit, but he didn’t have a name tag. He never did. The man was tall, with stylish black hair. He wore a pretty standard uniform, complete with a white button shirt and a black apron. To most, I’d say he’d be considered attractive. Except for his eyes. His eyes were definitely the wrong color. Most people didn’t have red eyes.\n\n“…Hi.” I said.\n\n“What was it this time?” he asked.\n\nI sighed and closed my eyes. “Train.”\n\n“You actually TRIED to die this time?” He sounded slightly surprised.\n\n“No no,” I replied hastily, “I was driving across the train tracks and my car broke down. Cue the train signal. Of course my doors won’t open, and then bam. Train.”\n\n“You may not come back from this one,” the man said with a slight smile. \n\n“Pretty sure if I wasn’t, we’d be having a different conversation.” \n\nThe barista guy shrugged his shoulders, the smile still tugging at his lips. He always seemed to be smiling when discussing my imminent, or not-so-imminent, demise. \n\nThis wasn’t my first visit. The first time was a couple months ago when I tripped and fell down the stairs outside my apartment. I figured it was a dream and didn’t really think twice about it after I woke up in the hospital. But then I came back a second time, when a car ran through a red light as I was crossing. I think the train incident made this the sixth time I’d visited. It was always the same routine: empty coffee shop, ring the bell, talk to the barista to kill time, and eventually wake back up in the world of the living.\n\n“You know, you’re not what I imagined Death would look like. And…the coffee shop is also a little odd.” I said. It was a thought that had been in the back of my mind after the first visit, but it never really felt like a good time to bring it up. But when you’re dead, or almost dead, is there really a BAD time?\n\nDeath shrugged. “I like coffee, and I like jazz. Seemed like a good way to set up my office.”\n\nI glanced around the shop again, noting the artistic black and white photographs that were hung on the walls. They changed every time I visited, usually depicting some scene or another from my life. Usually it was a good moment, like when I’d graduated from college or gotten my first cat.\n\n“As for the image,” Death continued, “I find this to be less threatening. You people in the west always expect some Grim Reaper guy with a long black cloak and a giant sickle.”\n\n“It’s the media,” I shrugged, “blame them. Although...actually you’re getting a pretty good reputation now of being a normal-looking guy for some reason. So I guess it fits now.” I wasn’t always up on the current TV shows, but it seemed like recently I’d been seeing a lot of images where the Grim Reaper image had been replaced by a regular, although usually ridiculously attractive, person. No sickle in sight. \n\nDeath smiled. “Good to know, I never liked that dull image. The Valkyries have it so much better than I do…”\n\n“What now?” That surprised me. Death had never talked about any other beings that dealt with the aspect of dying. “I thought you were the only like, Death person…thing.”\n\n“No! That would be ridiculous!” Death said, waving his hand at me in a shooing motion, “There are so many of you humans that it would be far too much for one Guide to handle. There are many of us. I guide the humans in the area I’m stationed, that’s how we all do it.” He said, turning around to make himself a drink. “Though recently I’ve had to call in some favors as I’ve fallen a little behind.” He added sheepishly.\n\n “Behind?” I asked. How does Death fall behind?\n\n“Yes, you see there’s been a certain human who keeps almost dying but never quite completes the task.” He threw a wink at me over his shoulder. “Such humans are almost unheard of, and any humans that do possess the ability to defy death are usually ones destined for greatness. Heroes of some sort.” He leaned against the counter to face me and took a sip of the hot coffee, steam rising from it and clouding his red eyes as he watched me closely.\n\nI snorted. “Really? You think I’m going to be some hero? What am I going to do, slay a dragon?”\n“Maybe,” Death said, putting down the coffee, “but the dragons tend to stay away from your kind and live primarily in Sweden, so I imagine it won’t be anything like that.” \n\nHe wasn’t joking, he was serious. Death thought I was destined to be some hero of the modern age. But I could barely make rent payments on my studio apartment, let alone do something worthy of hero status.\n\n“There is no way I’m a hero.” I said flatly.\n\nDeath’s little smile returned, and his red eyes flashed momentarily. “That’s not for you to decide my dear, but not to worry. I’ll be with you every step of the way to…observe and advise.”\n\n“I’m…I’m literally going to be stalked by Death?” I asked.\n\nDeath nodded. “Until your heroic destiny is completed and I can finally take your soul of course. Though I’ll need someone to help pick up the slack of me monitoring a new hero…Maybe Brynhildr or Hildr will do it, I know those two ladies have wanted to become more accustomed to American culture. And Hildr does owe me a favor for the one time in Germany…” \n\nDeath kept talking to himself, trying to figure out the logistics of him taking a long leave of absence. Suddenly, I noticed a soft beeping noise, just on the edge of my hearing. As it started to get louder, the coffee shop began to fade out and the jazz music disappeared.\n\nI woke up in a stark white room. Hospital, of course. My body hurt, but I still had feeling in all my extremities. The beeping was the sound of the monitor next to my hospital bed, proudly proclaiming me to still be alive. I kept staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what Death had meant by my being a ‘hero’. Didn’t heroes normally save damsels or slay monsters? I mean, that’s always what they did in the books. But nowadays there weren’t really any damsels or monsters. Unless you counted big businesses. I chuckled at that, and it hurt.\n\n“Something amusing?” said a voice from off to my right.\n\nSlowly, dreading what I would see, I turned my head to the right. Seated in a chair, reading a month-old fashion magazine, was Death. His barista uniform was gone and replaced with a stylish business suit. \n\n“Go on, tell me. I love a good joke.” He smiled at me. I didn’t smile back. \n\n“What’s with the face?” he asked. “I told you I’d be keeping an eye on you. And lucky for us Hildr was more than eager to take on the extra work load for me once I reminded her of the little swap we did during the last war.” His eyes, until now an ice blue, flashed red. \n\nI groaned, the weight of it all crashing onto my already-aching body and mind. As if my life wasn’t difficult enough already. \n\n", "\"Oh, so the plane that was supposed to take him to the hospital fell to the ground as well, hmm that's interesting\" Death throws a popcorn and chews it \" I don't know how he'll survive that, aha, that ambulance is quite fast, and they pick him up then administer first aid so that's how he lives, damn an accident\" still staring at the soul vision\n\n\"Can you just watch it silently?\" Life asks\n\n\"No, I can not, I love to comment when I watch a man this interesting and isn't it your job to watch living people?\"\n\n\"So now you remember I have a job, well I am supposed to watch them live, but a certain somebody is watching soul vision right now\" the hidden aggression turns into full-fledged fury with screams \n\n\"It's the first time in forever I want to watch soul vision, and now somebody is getting mad, I let you watch it for centuries, and you have other ways to do your job, you know compared to me you have the ability to visit the world whenever you want to, so stop complaining to me when you have it that nicely\" Death gets mad too \n\n\"Boo hoo, you should have picked your job better, it's no use to project your troubles into me, I didn't make the choice for you, so grow up and move\" Life doesn't back down'\n\n\"Just listen to yourself a little bit, missis now it all, you criticize my every choice only to continue to be lazy at your job, who's the mature one now\" Death adds with poison\n\n\" Playing psychologist I see, well you can have it, I don't have time for such trivial quarrels, after all, I have a really important job, I ain't the garbage man of the universe\" Life is backing away\n\n\"That was low\" Death adds and his eyes go back to the SV \"oh, now the hospital he's in is the epicenter of an earthquake, this guy has no luck\" \n\nFrom a corner Life watches the TV too, she was making all this fuss, because she was actually very curious about this guy, he was a master of survival, he was living the kind of life that Life didn't see before. She listens carefully to the comments of Death and is surprised by every new turn of events. Death picks a new flake of popcorn but it flies behind the bed, he turns to pick it up and notices Life which turns red and hides behind the corner\n\n\"I guess someone wants to watch the SV as well, too bad they are not willing to hang out with me,\" he says extra loudly \"I mean I am not against company if you take your words back and accept to sit with me like philosophical concept to philosophical concept, how about that?\" his voice is reconciliatory \n\nShe puffs air out, and she is mad but she wants to watch the life of that man more than anything.\n\n\"I agree, sorry I was too mean to you, and I accept you as my equal\" the last words she said were truly a herculean task\n\n\"All right jump in there's a lot of space on the couch\"\n\nThey watch his life, both surprised at times, then Life scarred at times but Death pats her on the shoulder, she laughs from surprise and he likes her laugh a lot, it's warmer than anything he ever sees at his job/ they continue to watch, but they look less at the screen and more at each other. They kiss and do the naughty things, two people, that loke each other do periodically as a sign of affection. \n\n\"Holly shit, we hooked up, umm, that was unexpected\" Life looks at Death's naked chest next to her\n\n\"Yeah, it kind of happened\" Death stutters \"but it wasn't a bad thing right? \" he looks at her pleadingly \n\n\"Of course, it wasn't, gosh, don't even think about that, well, look the guy is, holy shit\" her eyes are wide open\n\nOn the screen, the guy has ascended into a higher spiritual level \n\n\"Oops, now he is going to turn into a God\" Death adds with a stressed out smile\n\n\"And we are going to have to write an explanation and send it to higher-ups, we are going to be in some deep shit, \"she says\n\n\"As long as you are beside me I can manage\" Death adds\n\n\"That's some serious co-dependency, but it was cute so I'll let it slide, now let's put some clothes on, drink coffee, and get ready to write\" \n\n ", "one of my very first posts on wp!! eeeeee thank you for the prompt! \n this strays a little. i would love any feedback :) \n\tWhen I was 2, I had a fever of 105 for a day and a half. The doctor said, quite plainly, I should have died. That my brain should have boiled. I threw up all over my bed the next morning, the fever broke, and I got out of bed. There, in the doorway was the giant, gentle, grey creature, who had been waiting patiently there for the last few days. I took its hand and it helped me go to find my mom. I was sweaty and crying and definitely alive. \n\tWhen I was 6, I swallowed a grape whole. It got lodged in my throat, and I couldn’t even cough, my mouth gaping like a fish. I couldn’t call for anyone to come help me. I stumbled from my seat, gripping the edge of the table, trying to tip my head back. The grape unstuck itself and I felt the wholeness of it sliding like a too-big rock down my throat. It seemed like I could still feel it, when it landed in my belly, complete and huge and heavy. The giant, gentle, grey creature, there again that day, gave me a solid thump on the back. I was shaken and scared and definitely alive. \n\tWhen I was 17, I was bicycling in heavy traffic, when I steered too close to the side of the road, hit the curb and flipped over my handlebars, cracking down hard onto the pavement. I saw car tires hurtle past my face, just inches from my nose. The terrible screeching of brakes as the driver, horrified, hardly having stopped her car before flinging herself from the seat, rushing to my side. Again, as it had time and time again, the giant, gentle, grey creature helped me to my feet; steady for me when my legs were not. I was trembling, gasping and definitely alive. \n\tAgain and again it’s happened. The moments that make me so enormously aware of the pounding in my chest. The fragility of my bones. The delicacy of my inhale and exhale. \n\tIt never stops being scary. The slip at the edge of a cliff. The tree that came crashing down beside me that scraped the skin off my arms and face. The vomiting for days induced by botulism. \n\tBut that giant, gentle, grey creature is there. In each of those moments. And for some reason, it is comforting to see it. Because, somehow, in the back of my mind, I know. The giant, gentle, grey creature is there to help me. Help me shake myself off when I’m not ready to go yet. Get back on my feet. Help my breathing get back to normal. \nI know who it is. I’m not going to pretend otherwise. It’s appeared to me too many times for there to be any misclarity about it. It’s there to help me. I’ve probably seen it more times than most other people. But it’s there to help. And I know it’ll be there to help me when I am ready to go. And there’s something nice and gentle and grey about that. \nFor now, my hand is on my chest. And I feel the steady drumbeat therein. And the pulse that says not yet, not yet. The top of the inhale and the bottom of the exhale that says, not yet, not yet. And I am here and strong and definitely alive.", "I am sorry. This is a very interesting prompt, But all I can think is: He turned his head, wincing at the stab of pain, and saw a small but brightly lit folding chair on the sand. A robed figure was reclining in it, reading a book. A scythe was stuck in the sand beside it. A white skeletal hand turned a page.\n ‘You’ll be Death, then?’ said Vimes, after a while.\nAH, MISTER VIMES, ASTUTE AS EVER. GOT IT IN ONE, said Death, shutting the book on his finger to keep the place. ‘I’ve seen you before.’ I HAVE WALKED WITH YOU MANY TIMES, MISTER VIMES. ‘And this is it, is it?’ HAS IT NEVER STRUCK YOU THAT THE CONCEPT OF A WRITTEN NARRATIVE IS SOMEWHAT STRANGE? said Death. Vimes could tell when people were trying to avoid something they really didn’t want to say, and it was happening here. ‘Is it?’ he insisted. ‘Is this it? This time I die?’ COULD BE. ‘Could be? What sort of answer is that?’ said Vimes. A VERY ACCURATE ONE. YOU SEE, YOU ARE HAVING A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE, WHICH INESCAPABLY MEANS THAT I MUST UNDERGO A NEAR V IMES EXPERIENCE. DON’T MIND ME. CARRY ON WITH WHATEVER YOU WERE DOING. I HAVE A BOOK. (Thud! By Terry Pratchett)\n", "I usually didn't remember a face. After all, I never saw the same one twice. Kind of the whole point of the job, really. What kind of death would I be, if I had a repeat customer?\n\nThat's \"death\" with a little d, by the way - and hold the jokes, I've heard them all before. I'm basically just a little peon in the whole grand scheme of the end-of-life, the existential equivalent of a cubicle drone but with a slightly better travel package. Go to place, wait for the gruesome business to conclude, then collect whatever soul is lingering around.\n\nIt's not a job for the squeamish, or really for anyone with much in the way of hope. Starts to wear on you after a while, seeing all the different ways that people go. After the first few car crashes, or short-range gun suicides, even the blood and dismemberment loses its shock appeal. It just all feels... gray.\n\nSo when I showed up on that street corner, caught a glimpse of wild orange hair bobbing up and down among the masses of pedestrians, you'll forgive me if I didn't immediately remember just why the sight triggered a little twitch of unexpected familiarity. Still, my eyes tracked her, even as my brain tried to remember why that mass of red-orange curls was triggering unexpected neural pathways.\n\nI heard the catalyst approaching before I saw it. The screech of tires, the hiss of brakes locking up and refusing to exert their proper influence on the multi-ton monster that rode them. I turned and watched as the driver's face twisted in horror, his body shaking from the effort of pushing his foot down on a brake that simply didn't have the strength to stop the pickup as it careened towards the intersection at twenty over the speed limit.\n\nPeople heard the screeching brakes, too - people who weren't a death, that is. They shouted, dodged aside, or simply stood frozen in horror, their brains locking up as fight grappled with flight. I just leaned back against a light pole, sighed as I waited for it all to be over. \n\nRed hair was right in the middle of the intersection, of course. That must be why I'd noticed her - she was the target, the soul that I'd been sent here to collect. Still, something else about her tickled my subconscious, a buzzing fly that kept on swarming no matter how many times I brushed it irritably aside.\n\nThe truck bore down on her - and then, at the last second, her legs finally kicked spastically, sent her just barely out of the path of the truck. It shot past her, within inches of her pale limbs, smashing into the frozen businessman who'd been standing just beside her. It rolled a bit further, bones crunching amid the shrieking brakes, before finally skidding to a stop another ten feet down the road.\n\nShe looked up, bright blue eyes flashing amid that mass of ginger curls - and my memory finally clicked into place.\n\nSix months ago, the bus crash. That had happened near here, hadn't it? Half a dozen miles away, same geographic area. Three dead, a bunch of others were injured - as a death, I didn't pay much attention to the non-life-threatening injuries - and lots of chaos everywhere. I'd had to hunt around to find all the souls, as some of them ended up buried down in the wreckage.\n\nI'd seen her then, trapped beneath a bent support girder, but not otherwise injured. I'd brushed past her, barely sparing a glance for those bright curls - she was fine, after all. Scared but not in need of my services.\n\nAnd now, here she was again. Another brush with death (small d).\n\nI moved forward, over towards the truck. The poor businessman who hadn't dodged aside in time was a goner - it took just a glance to confirm that. One of the easy ones. No long, drawn-out waiting, no need to converse with a confused soul that refused to admit it was dead. Reach in, grab soul, stow away in pouch and head back for the next assignment.\n\nBut as I straightened up from the chest, soul in hand, something made me glance over at the girl.\n\nYoung woman, perhaps? I guessed she was in her early twenties, maybe a student from her casual clothes. Pale face, blue eyes, a slightly upturned snub of a nose, and that burning hair framing her face in a corona.\n\nI nearly started towards her - but what would I do? She couldn't see me; as a death, I received immunity from everything, at the cost of losing the ability to interact with anyone. She'd just see empty air where I stood, had no idea what I did behind the scenes to keep things rolling.\n\nBut then she turned towards me - and her eyes locked on mine.\n\nA bolt of lightning shot up my spine, burying itself in my brain and scrambling all thought. I grabbed for the talisman in my pocket, yanked myself away through the ether, out of this plane of existence.\n\nShe hadn't seen me. She couldn't have seen me.\n\nIt was impossible.\n\nI handed in the soul, absent-mindedly took my next assignment (tribesman in Zambia, dying of plague). I put the girl out of my head. It had just been coincidence.\n\nThat made it all the more shocking when, the next week, she tapped me on the shoulder. Good thing that I'm immune to heart attacks.", "\"Oh my, you do seem to find the most creative ways, don't you?\" Death said, his ribs chattering like a wind chime as he chuckled under his tophat. He certainly wasn't the all mighty, intimidating, spirit of the end that I'd always assumed he'd be. He was actually a pretty nice guy actually. He was well mannered, well dressed, and had a great sense of humor. However, I myself wasn't exactly in a joking mood. Laying flat on my back in a dark alleyway off of Isner street, a small tuft of smoke rising from my shirt pocket. \n\nMy father's watch had just barely saved me from the mugger. He had wanted my wallet, and when I didn't give it to him right away, his fired his 9mm directly into my chest. I pulled the watch out of my shirtpocket, the gold casing gnarled and dented in. The searing hot slug sat in the watch, a mortal reminder of how close I had come to the skeletal companion of mine.\n\n\"Why is it that you're still around me? I don't mean to be rude, but my luck seems to have gone completely downhill since you started following me around.\" I said, raising my eyes to meet Death's empty eye sockets. \"My dear boy, i've taken an interest in you. You've been tangoing with me far too much recently.\"\n\nThinking back, he wasn't wrong. My life had been crazy these past few months, without me even wanting it. There was my parachute not opening during my sky diving trip in February, which I had survived thanks to a VERY large silo of hay, there was the shark dive that I had gone on where the instructor had left the cage unlocked, forcing me to use my Krav Maga lessons for the first time in my life. On a shark. Then there was today, where I had quite literally, been shot. \n\n\"Yeah but that all happened after you got here.\" Death had been twirling his walking cane in his hand, flattening out the front of his tailcoat with the other. \"I'm not quite positive my boy, i've just been along for the ride and the laughs. And there have been plenty.\" The skeletal figure let out another laugh, his jaw chattering like a halloween decoration as he did. I was getting angrier with each laugh that left him.\n\nGetting up, I angrily pointed a finger at the reaper, poking my finger into his chest, quite literally, getting up and in his face. \"Well maybe the reason I keep coming close to death is because i'm literally near him constantly. Ever think of that?\" I asked, my voice choking a bit thinking of my father's watch. Death's laughing stopped almost as quickly as it had began.\n\nHis skull didn't give off any emotions, but I could tell he was wrestling with thoughts in his mind, keeping his attention for the moment. \"Old sport, I must say I may owe you an apology. I had been so lost in my own amusement, that I had in fact endangered you even further.\" He took a more rigid, straightforward stance, clapping his hands together.\n\n\"Right then! It seems i've overstayed my welcome! I'll be bidding you farewell then, and again, i'm deeply sorry for all the trouble.\" Knocking his cane on the ground a few times, a door faded into reality directly behind him. He twisted the pearly white knob, the dark wood difficult to make out in the darkness of the alley. He raised his hat in a polite gesture, before the door closed behind him, fading into nothingness.\n\nGoing home, I took a shower and ate some Ben and Jerry's, letting the sweet creamy dessert try to soothe the days events. He glanced over at the watch on his night stand, and thought of his father. A man who had battled cancer not once, but twice and survived, but who had done it all with a smile. I couldn't help but think this was Death's payback. First he took my father, and now he took my only memory of him. I blinked back tears as I faded off to sleep, just glad the entire ordeal was over.\n\nI woke up in the morning and got ready for work, making coffee and a bowl of life cereal with some sugar sprinkled over it. Downing the bowl quickly, I straightened my tied and laced up my shoes. Feeling my pants, I felt that my keys and wallet were both where they should be, the only thing missing was... my father's watch. I nodded to myself. I didn't care if it was broken, I was still going to carry it with me.\n\nEntering my room, I motioned to pick it up off the nightstand, but instead was met with a small box, wrapped in silver wrapping paper, a nice, neat bow sitting atop it. Unwrapping the bow, I took the accompanying card off of the top, peel back the seal that was the image of a skull with a top hat. \n\n\"After mulling over these past month's, I came to the conclusion that I was indeed, in the wrong. As Death, it is my responsibility to guide and judge the dead, not create more of them. To try and make ammends, included is something I think you may enjoy. Cheers, and may we meet again when you reach a ripe old age. And Jake, we will meet again.\"\n\nPlacing the card on the bed, I lifted the top of the box, my breath stopping upon seeing my father's watch. It looked like it had in my memories of ten or so years ago. It shined like the sun at dawn, and I could see my reflection in it. Cracking open the watch, I listened to the crisp tick... tick... tick* of the second hand as it made its rounds around the clock, before I noticed something new. On the inside of the watches cover, there was an inscription.\n\n\"Jake, eventually everyone meets their end, doesn't mean we need to hate death, just means we need to accept it as part of our lives. -Dad\"\n\nI felt the tears welling up in my eyes as I proudly stuffed the watch into my shirt pocket. Turns out death really wasn't such a bad guy after all.", "When I was born, I didn't let out a first scream. Or even a breath at all. The doctors thought I was dead. After trying to unsuccessfully revive me they were about to give up when all of a sudden I let out a thin wail.\n\nWhen I was two years old, my parents lost me at Disneyland. They found me after I had wandered into one of the rides and was playing with an animatronic about 30 feet in the air.\n\nWhen I was five, I stuck a screwdriver into an electrical socket. It blew me backwards, but I was fine enough to start giggling.\n\nAt 8 years old, I was more cautious. However, this did not stop me from being struck by lightening.\n\nSince then I have had 25 more incidences of going to the hospital, getting random illnesses, and nearly dying in general. My family couldn't decide if I was the luckiest or unluckiest person in the world.\n\nDue to my natural clumsiness and overall attraction for all things disastrous, Death had introduced himself to me after a particularly close drowning incident a couple of months ago. He found me entertaining and said they had all placed bets in the Underworld over how long I would live. I wasn't exactly flattered.\n\nToday was different though. Today was going to be perfect, with no incidences. I was going to be cautious and careful. Smooth and alert. Nothing was going to go wrong.\n\nI tripped on the curb outside of my apartment and barely grasped the car next to me as a bus zoomed by.\n\n\"One inch more and you would have been a goner.\" I stood up and picked some gravel out of my knees.\n\n\"Yet here I stand.\" I grumbled before grabbing the strap on my purse and turning my back on Death. He floated on behind me as I took measured, slow steps.\n\n\"That's going to be a bummer to the guys down below. Steven thought for sure that you were going to bite the bullet this morning. I told him that you've made it this long and you've definitely got a few good years on you. I'm guessing until maybe 26 or 27?\"\n\n\"Gee, thanks.\" I muttered absentmindedly, not really caring who Steven was or that he was disappointed in my current state of living. \n\n\"You have surprised me before. I thought moving away and going to school would be enough to do you in. You lived in the same town your whole life, what would the challenges of the rest of the world do to you? Plus, I mean, college debt alone is enough to make you want to--\" He drew a bony finger over where a throat would be on a normal person and I turned to face him.\n\n\"Can we not do this today!? I have other things to focus on without debating my untimely demise with you!\" I stalked past Death and he stood floating still for a moment before he swooped next to me.\n\n\"Okay, okay. Maybe you'll live until 30.\" I stopped in my tracks and turned to start lecturing Death when a loud crash sounded next to me. I turned to see a large television set from the 90s and looked up just as a set of weights came barreling at me. I dodged to the side as they crashed into the pavement.\n\n\"Maybe that will teach you for cheating on me!\"\n\n\"Sharon! Please! It's not what it looks like!\"\n\n\"You bastard!\" I watched as a bundle of clothes was chunked out a window a few stories above me. As it floated down, I made eye contact with Death.\n\n\"Nevermind. I give you a month.\"\n\nGroaning, I dusted myself off and carefully maneuvered away from the window and continued walking. \n\n\"Where are we going today, anyways?\"\n\n\"I\" I stressed, \"am going to the bank. I have to drop off my paycheck.\" Death sighed and floated around me a few times.\n\n\"Can we do something else? That's boring. Let's get snacks instead.\"\n\n\"Can you even eat?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"Not really, but I like to smell the different food and pretend.\"\n\n\"We're not getting snacks.\"\n\n\"But I'm so bored. Please? Please? We'll go to the bank later.\"\n\n\"Fine! Just be quiet.\" I said, feeling a headache forming. A few blocks later I stopped in front of the local convenience store and popped in.\n\n\"Can you grab me a snickers?\"\n\n\"Again: you don't eat.\" I whispered back to Death, clearing my throat as an old lady gave me a funny look. She turned around and I eyed Death.\n\"You're making me look like a crazy person. Go away.\"\n\n\"Not until you buy me a snickers.\" I let out a breath of air and grabbed a snickers as well as some other snacks, before moving to buy everything and leave.\n\nAs I started walking back, I pulled out the snickers and began to eat it, enjoying Death's stream of insults as I chewed.\n\n\"Can't you just tell me when I will die?\" I asked amicably after I had finished. Death huffed and crossed his arms.\n\n\"Would you want to know?\"\n\nI nodded. \"Definitely. I've lived my life thinking that everyday is my last one. If I knew the final date I could finally live without being so cautious all of the time.\"\n\nDeath paused for such a long time that I thought he wasn't going to tell me. Finally, after I'd forgotten I was waiting on an answer, he spoke.\n\n\"I would tell you if I could. But you're one of the few humans that I don't know when they'll die. That's why it's so interesting to watch you.\"\n\n\"What do you mean? Why don't you know?\" Death raised his shoulder in a shrug.\n\n\"Not sure. It could be because you're so unlucky that your fate keeps changing. It could be that one day it will solidify and it's just late. It could be that you're weird.\" I narrowed my eyes at him and he continued, \"I think it's because you weren't supposed to live this long. You should have died as an infant and now you're just surviving on borrowed days.\"\n\nI thought about that solemnly for a moment. Borrowed days, huh? They haven't exactly been good ones, that's for sure.\n\n(cont. in comments)", "First it was an almost fatal car crash, the second some building debris almost crushed me to death, the third time I was almost shot by a mugger, and the fourth and fifth it became a casual occurrence. I became desensitized to my string of “almosts” until Death decided to visit me in person.\n\n\nIt was after I had almost choked on jell, that he appeared. I remember his laugh ringing in my ears, while a man sat across from me, in a previously empty seat.\n\n\nHe looked like a man, just a regular man and his first words to me were, “Seems like you could be entertaining.”\n\n\nAfter he said those words my first thought was, “I'm f*cked.”\n\n\nAt first I thought he was a stalker but he only appeared during, or after one of my “almosts”. He would always laugh and disappear shortly after. \n\n\nThat was his MO until he appeared in my room at random.\n\n\n“You know it's creepy to stand alone in a girl's room?” I said a little too calmly.\n\n“I don't follow mortal ethics.” he said while twirling a pencil. “Do you know of a six letter word that means to eat?”\n\n\nHe had found my crossword books. \n\n\nAt this point I am a little pissed. “Look dude, I don't know who you are but clearly you're confused. You are in my room and I want you out.”\n\n\nI move to approach him reaching to shove him out of my desk chair. Only problem was that my hand phased right through him. I tried again with the same result.\n\n\nHe keeps staring at the crossword. “Jade, death can't touch you so it is impossible for you to touch me.”\n\n“What is that supposed to mean!”\n\nHe spins around in the desk chair and faces me. “It means that you have somebody preventing me from doing my job. I can't reap your soul if I can't touch it.”\n\n\n“So what? Are you saying you're the Grim Reaper?” I say in a crass tone.\n\n\n“That is precisely what I am saying.”\n\n\nI almost face plant into the floor just from the bizarreness of this situation. “You've got to be kidding me.”\n\n\n“I'm not kidding,” he says back “I only appear when you're about to die, Jade. Not only that but I know your name as well as all your other information.”\n\n\nOh yeah he did know my name. Wait a second… “Am I about to die?”\n\n\n“No, but I can't be too sure. Somebody or something has tampered with your soul enough that you are immune to my advances.” he pauses “So until I find out who is blatantly messing with my work I will continue to being entertained by you.”\n\n\nI sigh realizing fairly quickly that I can't do anything. “Can't I get rid of you.”\n\n“When you die.”\n\n“Well that isn't happening.”\n\n“I know.”\n\n\nThere is another bout of silence.\n\n“Devour!”\n\n“What?”\n\n“The word I was asking about earlier.”", "“This isn’t going to work.”\n\n“Shut up will you.” I say as I make my way up the ladder.\n\n“Seriously. I’m telling you.” Death said floating up on my right.\n\n“Bugger off.” I wave my arm out trying to shoo him away, but he floats back a bit avoiding my grasp.\nI climb higher and higher until I reach the end of the first ladder. A second one is placed on the first one, leaning up against the house. I pull out a couple of zipties.\n\n“Oh, now you’re just flirting with me.” Death said as I started to zip the two ladders together, “You’re making me all jittery.”\n\n“I know what I’m doing.” I say as I carefully step onto the second ladder. It wobbles, but I manage to balance it out. \n\n“That’s what you always say.” He says.\n\n“I’m still alive, aren’t I?”\n\n“Lady Luck has a thing for you.” He taunts me.\n\n“No I don’t!” Luck flew up on my left side. Goddamn it! Can’t these two twats just leave me alone!\n\n“I don’t have a thing for him!” Luck says in a way too defensive way.\n\n“Luck and Peter sitting in a tree… “ Death starts to sing. I swing out at him. He dodges and I start to loose my balance. Luck grabs my shirt and pulls me back onto the ladder.\n\n“There,” Death says pointing at us, “There, see what I mean.”\n\n“It’s not like that!” Luck says, “It’s just…”\n\n“What?” Death smiles and cups a hand around his ear, “I’m listening.”\nLuck mutters something unintelligible.\n\n“What? I can’t hear you.” Death smiles.\n\nI keep on climing. The two keep on floating up next to me.\n\n“ijustlikehim.” Luck mutters soft and fast. We all heard it. We all knew what she said. We all knew she would say it, but Death still wasn’t pleased.\n\n“I can’t hear you!” He says like the annoying Captain from a certain TV show.\n\n“I LIKE HIM!” Luck shouted out. It was quiet for a moment. Death’s smile widens.\n\n“Oh, Felicity.” He taunts, “Can it be? You finally found true love?”\n\n“Sod off, Mortimer!”, Luck said.\n\nI kept on climbing while the others bickered around me. The cat wasn’t going to save itself. Not that it seemed to want to, or deserve to for that matter. Just sitting there licking it’s paws, waiting for me like the entitled little brat it was.\n\n“What do you think.” Death eventually asked me.\n\n“I don’t care.” I said.\n\n“You see that, Felicity. He doesn’t even care.”\n\nThat’s not what I meant.\nI look over to Luck. Her lips are quivering. She looks sad.\n\n“Oh come on, you know I don’t mean it like that.” I said. Luck’s face was tearing up.\n\n“After all I did for you?” She asks with a quivering voice.\n\n“No, I’m very grateful for all that.” I truly was, it’s just that I wasn’t into her in a romantic way. I just recently lost my girlfriend and wasn’t in the mood.\n\n“Oh, this is just too good.” Death said enjoying every minute of it.\n\n“Then why don’t you like me back?” Luck asks hurt.\n\n“I never asked for this!” I said, “I never asked for your help! And I sure as hell never asked for this idiot to float around me either!”\n\n“Says the one climbing two zip tied ladders” Death said.\n\nI was about to lose it.\n\nThe cat ran down the roof and onto the tree standing next to the house. There it sat and started to meow loudly not being able to come down.\nI looked at the cat. Luck looked at the cat. Death looked at the cat.\n\n“Come on. Kiss Felicity. Maybe the cat will come running back.” Death said laughing.\n\nThat’s it. I lost it!\n\n &nbsp;\n\n“Look, Martha. The neighbours boy is arguing with himself again.”\n\nJohn was sitting in his favourite chair facing the window. He was looking through his binoculars at the boy across the street who was waving around in the air yelling profanities around.\n\n“Is he trying to jump into the pool from his window again?”\n\n“No, he’s on top of a makeshift ladder this time.”\n\nMartha walks in carrying two cups of tea. She hands John one of them and takes a seat herself.\n\n“You think he’s finally going to bite it?” She said bringing forth a pair of her own binoculars.\n\n“The boy’s seems to have a good relationship with luck. Not like his girlfriend. God rest her soul.” \n" ]	10
	[WP] You have a magic bag that gives you whatever you need for the day. Today, it's given you a bag of glitter, two feet of yarn, a black and white photograph of Danny DeVito, a model trebuchet, and a moldy block of tofu	[ "The young explorer looked down at her options and sighed. Another set of useless objects. Like really, what was the backpack thinking? She was supposed to cross a treacherous ravine and through a snake riddled forest before facing the notorious thief, a real sly fox. And this is what she gets? Glitter, yarn, a picture of some old guy with a goblin face, a catapult, and piece of tofu crawling with maggots? She sighed again. Maybe she'd take a break today. ", "Fuck. Another one of these. Every goddamn day this fucking bag tries to determine my fate. Five times this month it has been the same goddamn thing: a bag of glitter, two feet of yarn, a black and white photo of Danny DeVito, a model trebuchet, and some grody-ass tofu.\n\nThe first time it was a little entertaining. The next time it was sad. Every time after that I've felt guilty. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK HOW FAT HALEY JOEL OSMENT HAS BECOME; TAKING ADVANTAGE OF THAT AMNESIAC STRIPPER WAS WRONG. It continues to BE wrong every time he does it, and I don't want to be a part of it any more, so fuck this fucking bag.\n\nYes, she looks so fantastic in glitter (and nothing else) that I can almost get behind Team Edward. But going back, night after night, to get her aroused by playing Cat's Cradle with \"strangers\" is just too fucking skeevy.\n\nI'll still use the trebuchet and tofu, because my office-mate is still a dick, but I swear I'm throwing the rest of this shit out and ignoring Haley's texts until the weekend.", "The negotiator took a deep, shuddering breath. He had trained for this, spent grueling years in the academy and beyond studying the behavior of criminals. Even so, there was something about today that made him uneasy. You just don’t always wake up on the right side of the bed.\n\nHe composed himself and lifted the phone off the hook.\n\n“What are your demands?”\n\nThe voice on the other end was harsh, unforgiving—not at all the wavering tone the negotiator was expecting.\n\n“You better listen good,” the hostage-taker growled, “because I’m gonna go fast. I want a bag of glitter, two feet of yarn, a black and white photograph of Danny Devito, a model trebuchet, and a moldy block of t—“\n\nThe man fell silent.\n\n“Hello?” asked the negotiator. “Are you there?”\n\nThe criminal’s voice came back, softer now, and with a distracted sort of awe creeping into it.\n\n“Yeah, uh, never mind, we figured it out.”\n\n“You what?”\n\n“We got it. I got it. We’re cool.”\n\n“What do you mean, ‘we’re cool’?”\n\nThe negotiator never got his answer. What he did get was a dial tone, and a stream of relieved hostages entering into the command center across the way.\n\nOne of them broke off from the rest, slung an old backpack over her shoulder, and—before the negotiator or any of the other cops or FBI agents could intervene—left whistling with a bounce in her step.", "I was awoken by a beam of sunlight that shone through wrinkled window blinds. Just down the street I could hear the sirens of LAPD in pursuit, and somewhere in this shit motel some asshole had lit a cigarette before he could even brush the taste of hooker spit out of his mouth.\n\nIt had already been 5 days here- too long to stay any longer without the fuzz catching up. I was almost at the border; I just had to pass through San Diego then sneak on over to Mexico (which in itself would be something to deal with, but later). Baja was out of the way, but the last time I passed through a small town I had the cops called on me for 'suspicious behavior'. At least I'm a city like SD I was just another scumbag.\n\nI couldn't help but feel a bit of a rush at the thought of almost being there. I had gained enough infamy where the US would probably try to have the Mexican police extradite me, but I could at least have a chance to disappear there; maybe shack up with a nice broad somewhere quiet.\n\nI didn't travel with much; just this fuckin' bag that was the reason I'm neck deep in a torrent of whoreshit, but had kept me alive too many times for me to part with it.\n'Not like you wouldn't find your way back anyway,' I thought as I sat on the corner of my dusty bed across from the chair in which the bag lay. It seemed the bag agreed that we'd been sitting around for too long, because today's contents did not include the motel rent for the day. It did, however, include a black and white photograph of Danny DeVito among other, more confusing items. It hadn't been the first time the bag gave me a photograph of someone, and usually it was telling me I'd have to kill them via the extra items, which were usually some kind of weaponry. This time though, it was a bit harder to tell. How the hell was I supposed to kill DeVito with glitter, yarn, a model trebuchet, and a spoiled-to-shit wad of tofu? No, this couldn't be an assassination.\n\nWhatever. I stepped out as I would any other day: head straight south to San Diego, and if I see DeVito I might get a better idea of what I was supposed to do. Of course, it was more like \"when\" I see DeVito; the bag had a funny way of knowing how my day was going to play out, almost as if it was putting shit in front of me.\n\nA few blocks down this shithole of a city and surprise surprise I see none other than the old comedian entering a diner with some friend. He was unmistakeable: short, round, and with that iconic eagle wing hair reaching out from the side of his head. The guy looked like the damn Penguin. 'Here we go.'\n\nI entered the diner and sat myself at the table next to his to eavesdrop for a bit. Eventually one bit the comedian said stood out to me:\n\"Oh shit there she is. Damn how great would it be if I had a little catapult so I can nail her with this cheese?\" Nodding his head toward a woman alone at a table across the room.\n'Hmm, this could be my chance to get close to him,' I thought. I leaned over and pecked him on the shoulder. As he turned I offered him the model trebuchet from my bag.\n\n\"That's awfully convenient son, but thanks!\" He grabbed the trebuchet and turned back to his table. Moments later, I heard a slam from DeVito's table as he launched a piece of cheese at the woman. It missed its target, but had come close enough to cause the woman to angrily look around the room. As she did, DeVito and his companion ducked down low. Upon rising, the two began laughing, and DeVito called me over to thank me for my help, going so far as to offer me a meal because I looked and smelled like shit- a deal I honestly couldn't refuse.\n'Do I have to kill this guy?' I thought. 'I never found him very funny but it'd be a real shame to repay a meal with murder.\n\nAfter some conversation, I asked who it was he pegged with the projectile cheese.\n\"It's my wife. Would you believe the bitch put a hit on me? Wants to take everything I have.\" This was an unexpected turn; I was surprised he'd even mention something like that to me.\n\"Eh, you ain't workin' for her. Wanna know how I know? Her business is tighter than her own ass. She won't do business with street thugs, and you my friend look like you came out of an ass' ass, no offense meant of course.\"\nI weakly smiled, unsure if to just brush it off and laugh or to punch him in the face.\nHe continued:\n\"See those three guys over there?\" He nudged without looking up from his food. \"They're working for her, but they don't know her face. The only reason they haven't come at me yet is because you're here.\nI glanced over to see three large men, one of which I had caught glaring at me.\n\"You wanna do somethin' for me son? I'll pay you a whole lotta money if you do.\"\n\"I'm listening.\"\n\"I need you to kill her.\" Naturally, I met this request with a raised brow. \"If she doesn't check in then the hit is called off.\"\nI thought for a moment on whether or not I should do it, and how I would even do it. He was offering a ton of money, so there was no way I wouldn't cross my mind.\n\"How do I know any of this is true, and that you'll actually pay me?\"\n\"How about I pay you right now?\" He said.\n\"You have that kind of money on you?\"\n\"I was actually planning on hiring my own hitman to play her game, and life just plopped you in front of me\"\n'Yeah, how convenient...'\n\"How do you know I won't sell you out to her and claim the bounty?\"\n\"Again, she won't deal with you. Plus, I'm paying twice as much as she is.\"\n\nI leaned back in my chair and pondered on it. \"Alright, here's my plan...\"\n\nAfter detailing the plan, I stood up, bid the gentlemen adieu, and walked out the rear exit of the diner. Outside, I took the yarn out of the bag and tied it across the entrance.\nUpon reentry, I started towards the restroom. Of course, after I'd left DeVito's table, the three men had begun to rise from their table to approach the comedian.\nThen, DeVito and his companion rushed out of their table toward the rear exit- my cue to approach DeVito's wife. As he passed his wife, DeVito slammed the bag of glitter into her face and exited the diner, leaping over the yarn trap. The three hitmen pursued the two out the diner, tripping on the yarn and just giving DeVito time to enter his cab.\n\nAs DeVito's wife struggled to overcome her glitter-induced disorientation, I crumbled the rancid tofu into her soup, then proceeded to ask if she was okay. She wafted me away and yelled angrily at anyone who dared come near her. I returned to my table, under which lie the suitcase with DeVito's payment. I called a waitress over and requested a large coffee. It had been awhile since I could treat myself, then left the diner, leaving a most generous tip.\n\nDays later, at a bar near Tijuana, one of the tv's was covering the disappearance of famed comedian Danny DeVito after the death of his wife from fungal poisoning. My end of the deal was complete. I hadn't even noticed that the hour was just past midnight. I reached down for my bag and found that it was heavier than when I put it down.\nI took a deep breath. \"Okay, let's see what we got.\"", "######[](#dropcap)\n\nI can't use all these items in one day.\n\nBecause it's impossible, that's why.\n\nNo, don't give me that. You knew the moment you presented me with this bag of glitter, this piece of yarn, this photograph, this model siege engine, and this bag of... honestly, I don't even know what's in here. Is that tofu? Moldy, sweaty, unedible tofu?\n\n...Aw, that reeks. Now my room is going to smell.\n\nWell, thanks a lot, joker. You know, if I don't actually need anything important today, you could just say so.\n\nI don't.\n\nWhat the hell use do I have for moldy tofu? Honestly, just one time, tell me why I need all this stuff before I use it. Go on, I'll wait.\n\nNope. You never do. My whole life is reacting to the most idiotic circumstances with non-sequitur items from a cursed leather messenger bag. That's all I have going for me. I'm nothing but a poorly-conceived Writing Prompt.\n\nYou are cursed. You absolutely are cursed. I don't give a shit what the lady at the store said. She wasn't a fairy or an elf or some quaint magical creature, she was a witch, I'm sure of it now, and my life would be millions of times better if she'd never given you to me.\n\nGod, I was an idiot. \"The Chosen One,\" she told me, \"you're the Chosen One, and this bag will give you all you need to succeed against the Forces of Evil.\" I should've seen through her from the beginning. Chosen Ones don't buy messenger bags from Walmart, they go to, like... ancient temples or some shit. And I paid full price for you too, like a sucker. But she was hot, and she did that thing with the lightshow and the alignment of the planets on the day of my birth and... I believed it. I wanted to believe it. \n\nI thought I had it bad before I bought you. Right out of college knowing I was in a dead end job and it was only going to get worse, and thinking, \"Man, if I had just one thing in my life worth living for...\" \n\nMaybe that's why she chose me. She saw a spineless nobody and thought, \"Hey, wouldn't it be funny to make me a protagonist in some sick short story written by some guy who really should be paying attention in math class in response to a prompt that he doesn't even like because honestly the idea is so played out yet people continue to repost it with increasingly ridiculous criteria in a sad attempt at grabbing karma? Wouldn't that be hysterical?\"\n\nShut up, I can break the fourth wall all I want.\n\nAnd yes, she was lying about me fighting the forces of evil. That's part of the curse. The only thing that makes me The Chosen One is that that witch chose me to deal with stupid villains and monsters for the rest of my life. If I were really a Chosen One, I'd know who I was fighting. One bad guy, or one group of bad guys, who all have a clear goal in mind on how to end the world, or take over it or whatever. That's how it works, right? And you start small, with some minion or whatever who would appear at my job and say, \"Mark Brennowitz, it's time for you to die!\" You know, cause the Big Bad would have sent him to get rid of me.\n\nAnd I'd be all like, \"I don't want to die. Also, how do you know my name?\"\n\nBut then he'd charge in and try to fight me and trash my office in the process (which is fine, I never liked my job anyway, right?) and through some stroke of luck or genius I find the minion's weak spot and defeat him. I don't kill him though. I'm nice like that. And that's when the good fairy introduces herself and gives me the magic bag.\n\nYou see where I'm going with this? The bag would actually be useful to me. I wouldn't be stuck with a bag of moldy tofu smelling up my bedroom. I mean, when have you given me anything that would actually be worth having in a fantasy story, like an enchanted arrow, or a broadsword? But no. Random shit like this. Shit that wouldn't make sense in a real story. Remember that time where you just gave me bags of candy for two weeks straight? Not to mention all those guns, and — and thanks again, for that, by the way. It's real peachy being on the no-fly list. And the no-bus list too! I didn't even realize that was a thing! I sure found out it was a thing, didn't I?\n\nBeen in jail more times than I can count for that stupid prompt.\n\nI get these random items every day and it's supposed to mean that they all work together to defeat whatever villain is coming for me that day, but all that happens is none of this stuff gets used until some random eldritch horror appears and I have to use Rube Goldberg logic to get rid of it all. If I don't use every item, time itself stops to accommodate me. That is a curse. I don't have to explain myself further.\n\nI don't care if I'm hurting your feelings, you deserve it. In fact, you're probably in on it. I've been thinking about this for a long time. If this were a good story, you'd be the plucky sidekick, witty quips out the ass for days to keep the tension down and lift people's spirits. Instead, you're a cryptically unhelpful and unhelpfully cryptic waste of space. I'd be so much better off if you were at least a silent magic bag. But no. I get taunted every day by your mere existence.\n\n...What's so funny?\n\nI'm shit without you? I'm shit with you. At least when I had a normal, boring desk job I didn't fear for the lives of everyone in a three-mile radius around me. Everyone is a target, but I don't have enough money to move out to the mountains or a deserted island or something. You never give me money, no matter how often I'm late on rent. You never give me anything to help me. It's all just a game for the readers' amusement.\n\nYou want to know what I'm going to do about it? What I'm going to do with you? \n\nI'm going to throw you away.\n\nI would.\n\nOh, shut up. In fact, let's do it now! I can't stand hearing you talk another second.\n\nYou know, I never really appreciated having my apartment window sit right outside the dumpster. Now I'm coming around.\n\nAny last words?\n\nMan, what took me so long? I could've thrown you away ages ago. I spent so long clinging to the idea that I could actually be some kind of special, prophesied hero when my life was just fine without you. What a waste.\n\nFuck this prompt. I'm out.\n\n*\n\n[Visit my sub!](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheCastriffSub) \n[There MAY be more stories about witches?!?](https://www.reddit.com/r/TheCastriffSub/comments/58i7br/142_your_vile_majesty/) ", "\"Mom! Did you buy the crafting supplies and the print out I asked you to get?\". \n\nI was getting stressed. My presentation about Danny DeVito was due tomorrow morning and I didn't have any time to waste. Mom, being Mom, forgot the poster board and marker I asked her to buy the previous day. Apparently, she had printed out something but somehow, it was a picture of Matt LeBlanc. Don't know how Matt LeBlanc has anything to do with Danny DeVito but it seems my mother confused the two. \n\nThen it hit me. _The magic bag!_\n\nIt had given me herp... I mean glitter yesterday. I fetched it from my overly complicated concealment system in my drawer and started working on my poster. Added some yarn that I had for good measure.\n\nI went through the bag again and found a photo, a toy trebuchet and some tofu. Curious, I popped the photograph out of it's frame and read the backside.\n\n_Young Danny DeVito posing for a photograph_\n\nJackpot! I love this oddly convenient bag! \n\nI glued the photo on in a hurry, not considering how I was using an antique for my 6th grade school project.\n\n_The next day._\n\nAfter getting my presentation out of the way, I head to the cafeteria. Just as I turn to find a place to sit, I feel something hit my back. Not hit, but _squish_ into my back.\n\n\"Food fight nerd!\" \n\nIt was my last straw with this asshole. He had terrorized every single person in this school. Students, staff, even the goddamn headmaster wasn't safe. Heard the creep even grabbed a teacher's ass once.\n\nI whipped out the the trebuchet and looked for something to fire. Turns out the tofu I packed for lunch was rock hard. \n\nOne bloody face and suspension later, I was satisfied with my revenge. Oh and the poster was a thing too. \n\n[Writer's note: I've never done a WP before and was willing to try it out. I'm just a 13 year old in the 8th grade so probably not the best writer in the world. I'm open to any critism. :) ]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "I crawled over to the bag. Soon it would be a new day. A new adventure awaited me. A grand distraction.\n\nYes. Good. It is a good day. Moldering tofu. Today I will eat! \n\nA photo? The glorious visage of my beloved! Today is a fine day.\n\nA catapult? No, catapults are wrong, defilers of nature and god's law... this is a divine trebuchet!\n\nFuzzy string. Yes. Good. This will serve me well.\n\nGlistering fairydust. ANATHEMA!* I begin to eat the dust, shielding it from my beloved's gaze with my body. They must not see the disgusting foulness that sits in heaps before me! I must dispose of it. \n\nAh, but it is too much! What mortal frame could ever hope to destroy what loathsome fae-creatures have deigned to cast upon this earth? I begin to cry. My failure is too much to bear.\n\nI draw the photograph close to me. I know what I must do next, though it pains me. I set upon the tofu, carving it with the edge of the photograph. Slowly at first, delicately and with the greatest care, I extract my beloved's essence from the photo and transpose it into statuary form. With exacting precision I excise material, the sweat upon my fevered brow cascades now, occluding my sight to the point that I must stop, and engage the yarn in sopping up the moisture- lest my efforts be foiled by by benighted vision.\n\nYes! No immortal hand or eye, nay indeed: but BY MY OWN HAND I have Triumphed in meting out perfection. Look how he stands there, posed in perpetuity, wild and unconquerable. There is the glory of GOD ALMIGHTY in every contour, every surface! \n\nThere is only one thing left now. Tears stream down my face as I affix the sodden yarn to the siege engine. I load the device with the unconsumed glitter. Bile rises in my throat, sickened as I am by the prospect of what comes next. I take the lead of the thong, and circumambulate my creation before coiling myself foetally around it. \n\n\"Happy birthday Frank. I miss you.\"\n\nI pull the chord, and the blinding wave of sparkling horror envelops us.", "I wasn't always the office prankster, but ever since I found the bag- it's been too easy. The pranks have been non-stop, but I also have to keep them tame enough not to get fired.\n\nThere's been a few times the bag has given me toys and trinkets that would be way over the top for your average office. Like that time it gave me a live squid or a voodoo doll of my boss. But everyone expects the high level pranking by now.\n\nUsually the bag gives me one item at a time. Usually it's only once or twice a month. But today, as I walked into my cubicle (aka \"the Cube of Chaos\" to my co-workers), the bag looked unusually full. \n\n\"What's crackin'?\", Mike asked as I sat down. Mike was my biggest ally in pranking. In fact, he's really the brains behind our operation, I just bring the goods.\n\n\"Not much...\", I replied as I sat down. I reached into the bag and pulled out the first item I touched and showed it to Mike.\n\n\"Oooh HO HO! I like where this is headed.\" Mike smiled and I could already see the gears turning. He's a good prank ally to have.\n\n\"Guess who's birthday card needs an extra shot of glitter?\", as Mike spoke I remembered that today was Lizzy's birthday. Lizzy... the most gorgeous girl I had ever seen. Did I really want to be responsible for covering her in the herpes of craft supplies? But the bag had spoken, and Mike rarely led me wrong. Rarely.\n\n\"That's what I'm talking about.\" I replied, trying to hide my uneasiness with a mischievous smile. \n\nMike handed me the card that had apparently already been passed around and signed by everyone in the office. I poured in nearly all the glitter and sealed the envelope... I had learned not to mistrust the bag. The last time I didn't use an item, I paid for it... Can you really blame me though? A large black dildo? There was no way I was bringing that out at work. I tossed it in the bin and hoped no one would see it... but of course it ended up planted firmly on the top of my car. I happened to be driving to meet my ex-gfs parents for dinner that evening. The conservative couple was not amused. How did it end up there? That's still a bit of a mystery...\n\nEventually we all gathered in the break room for Lizzy's birthday lunch. Before I got up, I reached into the bag again... yarn? Approximately two feet of drab, off-white yarn? What could this be good for? I tried to get Mike's attention but he was too focused on the card and could barely keep from laughing about the glitter.\n\nWe all started singing Happy Birthday to Lizzy and she sat there looking gorgeous with her perfect smile, her beautiful blue eyes... her long silky hair... oh shit... why did I put the glitter in her card? Stupid bag, this is going to be a disaster. She is going to hate me.\n\nThen Amy walked in. \n\nAmy is basically my arch nemesis. The fun sucker. The mood killer. I've never tried to prank Amy. She was the type that would have my ass reported to HR before I could say \"Gotcha!\". To quote the great Michael Scott, \"If Amy, Bin Laden, and Hitler were all in a room and I had a gun with 2 bullets, I'd shoot Amy twice.\" She pushed past me as she entered the kitchen and an idea popped into my head. \n\nAmy got started on killing the mood as quickly as she could. \"Ooo, happy birthday, Lizzy!\" she mused in a way that made it hard to tell if she was being serious or sarcastic. \"Let's see what people wrote on your card!\". Perfect. Always trust the bag.\n\nAmy grabbed the card and turned slightly away from the table to open it. Maybe it was the way she opened the card, or maybe this glitter had some extra magic in it. Whatever it was... it was magnificent.\n\nThe glitter practically exploded into Amy's face and the whole room bursted with laughter. Including Lizzy, who didn't seem to mind that the glitter bomb would have exploded on her had Amy not rudely interrupted.\n\n\"OH. MY. GAWD!\" Amy bawled. She slowly turned around and everyone only laughed harder. Mike was on the floor.\n\nEveryone was too distracted to notice I was tying the yarn to one of the table legs and also my own ankle. The yarn happened to match the color of the floor in our little kitchen perfectly. It couldn't be a coincidence. Trust the bag.\n\nAmy was upset and apparently still intent on ruining the fun. \"Well, since I bought this cake I guess I'll just eat it myself.\" Amy grabbed the cake and moved toward the doorway. I quickly stepped aside... creating the perfect trip wire with the yarn in the process. Amy. went. down.\n\nShe looked back with her face full of cake. More laughter ensued, and two coworkers jumped to help Amy up. Luckily, the yarn had come untied from the table after Amy's foot caught on it. I quickly swept that foot behind me and out of sight. No one saw the yarn, but I knew I was playing with fire. Everyone probably thought I was responsible for the glitter, but tripping a co-worker isn't so much a prank as it is assault. \n\nEveryone eventually calmed down and Lizzy seemed to think this was the best birthday present ever (apparently she didn't get along with Amy either). \n\n\"So you were trying to glitter-bomb me, eh Chester?\" Lizzy smiled as she walked past the Cube of Chaos. \"You must have brought me an actual birthday present...\" she said expectantly. \n\n\"Of course I did,\" I lied through a smile and reached into the bag. It was a risky play. God knows what I might pull out of here...\n\n\"HA! That is hilarious. How did you know I like Danny Davito? Always Sunny in Philadelphia is one of my favorite shows.\" she laughed as she looked over the black and white photograph of Danny DaVito. The bag was crushing it today.\n\n\"Who doesn't love that show!? Maybe you should come over and watch it with me some time.\" I innocently suggested.\n\n\"I'd like that. How about tonight?\" Lizzy replied and bounced off to her desk as I just nodded.\n\nI looked over at Mike who gave me a side glance, \"You sly dog you.\"\n\nI smiled and got back to work.\n\nThe day was winding down and I could tell there were at least two items left in the bag. It was time to see what else the bag had in store for me that day.\n\nJust as I reached in I saw Amy walk back into the office. She left after the cake incident (I assume to get cleaned up) and was walking like mad bull straight toward my desk. And she was being followed by Kevin... our HR rep. \n\nI looked down and in my hand I was holding a small trebuchet... \n\nAmy and Kevin were closing in. This wasn't going to end well... might as well go out with a bang! I put the small trebuchet on my desk and loaded it with the remaining glitter. I looked over at Mike who was staring at me with a wide-eyed \"oh shit\" look and shaking his head.\n\nAmy and Kevin were 10 feet away... 7... 4... \n\n\"FIRE IN THE HOLE!\"\n\nThe model trebuchet launched swung and... backfired. The glitter was once again everywhere... but mostly, it was all over me. \n\n\"Cough Cough whoa... \" I looked up to see an unamused Amy and Kevin standing over me. \n\n\"Chester,\" Kevin began, \"it's time to give it up.\"\n\nI looked at him knowingly and replied, \"yeah... I understand.\"\n\n\"Amy has filed a complaint. I understand the glitter bomb was not meant for her, and you have a different relationship with certain other co-workers, but your pranking behavior is not suitable for the workplace.\"\n\n\"I understand.\" I repeated and looked down.\n\n\"Good.\" Said Kevin. \"Now clean yourself up and consider yourself warned.\"\n\n\"WHAT!?\" Amy sputtered. \"THAT'S IT?!\"\n\n\"That's it,\" said Kevin. \"And consider yourself warned as well, Amy. Don't take other people's birthday cards, and don't take their cake either... though it sounds like you learned your lesson on that already.\"\n\nAmy stormed off. Kevin continued, \"I better confiscate this little contraption as well... do you have any other pranking toys, devices...\" \n\nI looked down at the bag, and reached in... \"uh... this?\" A moldy package of tofu sat in my hand.\n\nKevin looked at me like I was mental, \"... I don't even want to know what you were going to do with that. Just throw it away.\"\n\nI tossed it in the trash as Kevin walked away. \n\n\"Bold move, man.\" Mike stated plainly. \"I thought you were getting fired. Which would be a huge bummer for me... this place wouldn't be nearly as entertaining without old Chester.\"\n\nI laughed and I could feel the glitter falling from my face, \"haha, yeah... close one.\"\n\n\n\nLater that night Lizzy knocked on my door, \"Hey Chester!\" God, she was beautiful. \n\n\"Hey Lizzy, what do you have there?\" \n\n\"Oh, just some tofu salad.\" \n\n\"... is that my... moldy tofu?\"\n\n\"Haha, aw man. I was hoping you would at least take a bite first.\"\n\nI laughed, \"You took it out of my trash can and made a salad out of it?\"\n\nShe laughed back, \"yeah, that's not the first prank item I pulled out of your trash can. Remember that dildo that was stuck to your car?\"\n\n\"That was YOU!?\" She really was the perfect woman.\n\n", "Waking up was less difficult today than most. Yesterday my \"items\" were a driver's outfit, a pop-up book about a circus, and a single key to the correct car in the presidential barricade. I can't describe how difficult it was to get past the secret service. I somehow managed to take the real driver out and take over the without shaking the vehicle around as we drove.\n\nTo be honest, the pop up book was the easiest part. He immediately looked at it and was enthralled the entire time. The surprise \"pop-up\" as he opened the last page was worth the trouble. I tend to keep out of politics, but this guy kind of just rubbed me the wrong way, ya' know? To be completely honest, I was hoping he'd be a target for one of us while still in office.\n\nAs I grabbed the bag today, I wondered who it'd be. Most of them are pretty run of the mill. Nothing fancy. I rarely even recognize them. Some of them were pretty rough, though.\n\nYou'd think assassins don't feel a whole lot, but we're still able to recognize good people from the bad. Sometimes people let those opinions get in the way of their contracts. They don't last long. \n\nToday's target threw me off. And that's not even including the odd sort of tools I need to carry it out.\n\nDanny DeVito. What a bummer! He does great work as an actor. I met him one time when I had a citizen name. Seemed to be a genuine kind of person, but definitely a little greasy. There was a slight shimmer of hope that I'd receive orders to cancel.\n\nI logged in to my account to get the itinerary. \"Sushi Station, Elgin, IL, 6:00PM\" was highlighted red. Not too far of a flight this time. I was in the door by 5:00, and sit next to the table that the itinerary mentioned. I like to show up early so I can get a feel of the place, and see if I can figure out how I'm going to be using the objects. It can be...quite a puzzle, sometimes. Today is no exception.\n\nSushi Station seems to be a clean place where, instead of ordering your food, you grab it off a belt. Fairly easy to figure out the tofu. It's moldy. He grabs it, goes to the bathroom to throw up.\n\nUsually for strangulation I get something a little more sturdy than yarn. I didn't think it was that kind of day. But for the life of me, I couldn't figure out what I was going to do with the rest of the tools. Maybe tie off the door to the bathroom to not let people in? Didn't seem right. The Agency doesn't usually utilize the tools like that. Even if they did, that leaves no room for the rest of the tools.\n\nI still didn't know what I'd do when he walked through the door. The itinerary said he had a meeting at 7:30, so I needed to play this quick before he had to leave to make it in time. \n\nI decided to wing it. I placed the moldy tofu on the belt and watched him. I found myself staring, so I got lucky that he didn't look at me as I blew my cover, but I needed to make sure he took the bait.\n\nHe did, of course. I smirked a little as he smacked his lips at the sour taste. \"Tastes like rum ham,\" he mumbled. Ten minutes later I saw him furrow his brows. He ate a few more plates of sushi from the belt before he started to sweat a little. He sat silent for several minutes.\n\nAbout 25 minutes after he ate the tofu, he grabbed his last plate and placed it in front of him. And then he stared. For five minutes he just stared at the plate. Six. Seven. Furrowed brows, sweat, and now and easily recognizable feeling of nausea as he leaned forward. \"Jesus...oh jesus....\" he mumbled as he hurried up and rushed towards the bathroom.\n\nHere we go, I thought. I grabbed my bag and rushed after him. As we got closer to the bathroom, I reached in and found the first item. The trebuchet. He slammed into the bathroom door. I followed, and by the time I made it inside, he was already in a stall. I made the door shut silently behind me. Reached into my bag and found a ball of yarn. As I was about to tie the handle to stop anyone from coming in, I heard a cough.\n\nIt wasn't Danny DeVito. His voice is so distinct. This was a more high pitched tone. Then I heard Danny throw up for the firs time. The purpose of the tools suddenly came into place. I know who set this target up. He likes to make people look like idiots in their death. He likes to make the public scratch their heads. I've never had him assign me a target but his work was pure art. Suddenly, the fact that it was Danny DeVito didn't matter. I got to be part of this beautiful painting.\n\nI grabbed one of the balls of yarn and tied the handle to the stall the other man was in. I took grabbed the trebuchet out of the bag and positioned it towards the stall where Danny continued to expunge the moldy tofu, and I can only assume the rest of the sushi. Glitter. Glitter goes in the trebuchet.\n\nI grabbed the other ball of yarn, tied it to the stall, rounded it around the u-bend under the sink, and tied it to the base of the trebuchet. \n\nThis is perfect. This assignment was perfect. This is the highlight of my career.\n\nI walk out of the bathroom and sit at a table around the corner. The walls are thin, I can hear everything. The panicked sound as a man tries to force himself out of a bathroom stall. Danny grunting. Danny groaning. Danny grunting. Danny blowing out more of his stomach. A mixture of panic and concern from his stall neighbor, unsure why he can't leave, and obviously weirded out by the puking and grunting next to him.\n\n\"Urgh...I'm alright. Bad sushi,\" I heard Danny say. \n\n\"Ah, okay brah, just making sure.\"\n\nHearing 'brah' made me glad this was the guy that was going to look suspicious.\n\n\"Yo, can you open my door, dude? It seems to be locked.\"\n\nA couple seconds passed before I heard anything again. Danny grunted and I heard some thudding. Hard to tell if he was in his stall, still.\n\n\"Urgh...yeah. Hold on.\"\n\nAnother couple seconds and I heard it. I heard the slam of Danny's stall door, the twinge of the trebuchet releasing the payload, and the satisfying \"UHF\" as Danny DeVito get slammed with a bag of glitter. All in less than half a second. I'll never forget that cacophony of sounds.\n\n\"THE FUUUAHHC-\" and a SLAM. He slipped when he was startled backward. This could not have gone better.\n\nSilence. Silence for several seconds.\n\n\"You alright, bro?\"\n\nI already knew the answer. I gave it another couple seconds, strongly resisting the urge to go in and see this art.\n\n\"Is this fucking glitter all over the floor? Bro. You alright?\"\n\nAnother ten seconds.\n\n\"BRO IS THAT BLOOD?\"\n\nI left immediately. I knew it was over.\n\nI watched the database all night. I had to see the pictures the police took. I had to see them. They were every bit as amazing as I hoped they'd be.\n\nDanny DeVito, body inside a bathroom stall of a sushi restaurant, gilded in glitter. I couldn't wait to wake up and see what tomorrow would bring.", "Andrew ate the tofu. It was old and moldy and tasted bad. His stomach churned. The city around him was burning. The sky was red with black clouds swirling like vultures. The earthquakes promised an even greater evil.\n\n\n\"Doc, I don't know about this.\"\n\n\nThe Doctor was on the phone. Somewhere in California he was hiding in a bunker, safe from the catastrophe.\n\n\n\"Andrew, the bag gives you what you need! It gives you everything to save the world!\"\n\n\nAndrew looked at the bag. Usually he would be offended to hear his name. He thought himself an adventurer, and he preferred the name Indiana. But now he was afraid. Ahead, past the walls there was the Spider King. He was enwebbing anything he could find, the fires igniting his webs in streams of flames.\n\n\n\"Doc, it gave me yarn and a picture of a fat man and a catapault and some glitter. How is this gonna save anyone?\"\n\n\n\"You described a trebuchet before. Is it a catapault?\"\n\n\n\"No I guess it's got a long neck. It's like one of those long neck horses, whaddya call them?\"\n\n\n\"Giraffes?\"\n\n\n\"Yeah, it's like a giraffe catapualt.\"\n\n\nThere was silence and static on the phone.\n\n\n\"Okay Andrew, listen. The world is gone to hell. You need to stop the Spider King else we will go to hell as well!\"\n\n\nAndrew shivered. He remembered all the times he never prayed. All the times he fell asleep after making fart noises with his hands, when he was supposed to be praying.\n\n\n\"I don't want to go to hell, Doc.\"\n\n\n\"Good! Then figure something out. MacGyver it!\"\n\n\nAndrew did not know who MacGyver was, and he was afraid to ask.\n\n\n\"Okay Doc. I'll decipher it as you said.\"\n\n\nHe hung up the phone. The bridge to the city had collapsed. There were screams ahead. He saw the figure of the Spider King crawling about. The balance of the world was changing, getting thinner. More demons would come if the Spider King remained unchecked.\n\n\nHe looked at the bag.\n\n\n\"You could have given me like a grenade launcher, you know?\" he said. \n\n\nThen he looked at the trebuchet. He had the other items in his fanny pack.\n\n\nIt's a sachel.\n\n\nHe did not know what they were for, but he figured out a use for the trebuchet.\n\n\n\"Alright you catapault. Let's see if your long neck really helps.\"\n\n\nHe sat in the cup and put the bag over his head. It was musty and unclean smelling, but the dark gave him courage. He cut the cord and launched himself.\n\n\n\"My name is Indianaaaaa!\" he bellowed.\n\n\nHe sailed in the air, vomitting mid air from the motion, and the bag flew off. He saw the concrete sea of fire and blood beneath him, and the ever growing presence of the Spider King getting nearer.\n\n\nOh my God, he thought.\n\n\nHe hadn't thought any of this through. He begged God for forgiveness of his sins and tensed for his death.\n\n\nThis is how an adventurer dies, he thought.\n\n\nAs he made an arc, he saw he had crossed the walls. The Spider King had turned and was staring at him. \n\n\nLoud did the large spider roar, and its stinger was raised in a ready pose.\n\n\nAndrew near defecated himself. He had seen a movie long ago starring Dwane Johnson as the Scorpion King, and he had thought that movie the height of Hollywood special effects. Never had he experienced such terror before. Until now. This Spider King was much bigger than Dwane Johnson, and looked less plastic than the Scorpion King.\n\n\nWith nothing to shield his eyes, he held the picture over his face and readied himself for death. \n\n\nJust then the Spider King screeched and there was the sound of bowels moving. A sticky web enveloped Andrew and he was shaken as he was caught mid flight.\n\n\nHe opened his eyes and peered from the picture.\n\n\nThe Spider King was hunched near the ground. It made a guttural sound. Andrew struggled and rolled out of the webbing and landed unsteadily on his feet. The Spider King followed him with many eyes.\n\n\n\"Where are you going?\" the King asked.\n\n\nHe wondered how improbable it was that a demon would speak Engligh.\n\n\nIt's the most popular language in the world, he thought proudly.\n\n\nAnd he wondered why the Spider King was talking to him. Why had he saved him?\n\n\n\"I... I...\"\n\n\n\"The Grotesque Ghoul,\" the Spider King said. \"That's who you are, right?\"\n\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\nAndrew moved the picture from his face. The Spider King hissed with reproach and readied his stinger.\n\n\nQuickly Andrew placed the picture in front of him and the demon relaxed.\n\n\n\"Where did you go? Is the planes still shifting?\"\n\n\n\"Yes,\" said Andrew. And trying to replicate demon speak the best he could: \"And can you smell what I'm cooking?\"\n\n\nHe postured like he thought Dwane Johnson would.\n\n\n\"Ah, I see,\" said the King. \"Well no matter. This world will soon be devoured and we shall have our fill.\"\n\n\nAndrew's hand was getting tired. Slowly, he reached in his pocket for the yarn. pulled it across his face so that it held the picture firm, and he tied it, making a mask. Now his hands were free.\n\n\n\"Ah, I see your limbs are free now,\" said the Spider King. \"The planes are giving.\"\n\n\n\"Yes fool,\" said Andrew.\n\n\nThe Spider King towered over him. There were people all around, dying slowly, and he did his best to ignore them. A good adventure did not need to be bogged down with the suffering of the innocent. \n\n\nI need to defeat him.\n\n\nAndrew came closer. There was the fire brigade in the distance. He hoped they brought insecticide.\n\n\nWill that work on a spider?\n\n\nHe hoped they brought a big newspaper, just in case.\n\n\n\"So what shall we do now, brother?\" said the King.\n\n\nBehind the eyes of Danny DeVito, Andrew had built some courage. \n\n\nUsing a kneeling dead body as a spring board, he jumped and bounced off a hill of rubble.\n\n\n\"Brother?\" said the King.\n\n\nBut in one fell motion Andrew had pulled out the handfull of glitter and pelted it at the many eyes of the Spider King.\n\n\n\"It sparkles!\" screamed the King.\n\n\nHe fell to his side, leaving his soft belly conveniently exposed.\n\n\nWith vigor Andrew began kicking at the belly, his dirty shoes grating on the soft flesh. \n\n\n\"Aarrgh!\"\n\n\nBut the King was blinded and off balance. The fire brigade was near then. The army had come with them. They pulled up near him and stopped. The ones who were on top of the trucks lifted up their hands.\n\n\n\"Oh my God it's another demon!\" they cried.\n\n\nAndrew removed the picture from his face and they sighed relief.\n\n\n\"Oh thank God. He just had a picture over his head.\"\n\n\nThe army men surrounded the Spider King, now free from the threat of endless webs. In a line, they opened fire on the thing. It writhed in pain. Andrew winced and looked away.\n\n\nDamn, that glitter must have really hurt.\n\n\nHe sauntered off when he was sure the Spider King was dying, and stole a phone from a dead man.\n\n\n'Honey are you okay?' multiple text messages read. 'I saw there was some attack in the city. Are you okay?'\n\n\n'No, I'm dead,' Andrew sent. \n\n\nThen he did not feel so bad about stealing the phone. He called the Doctor.\n\n\n\"Andrew?\"\n\n\n\"How did you know?\"\n\n\n\"Just tell me what happened!\"\n\n\nAndrew smiled.\n\n\n\"It was like you said, Doc. The bag gave me everything I needed, except for the army I guess. But the Spider King's dead. It's like one of those, whaddya call it, A-sock's fables. It all fits together snugly like a nice sock should.\"\n\n\nThe Doctor hung up and Andrew walked alone.\n\n\n-\n\n\nHi there! If you liked this story, you may want to check out r/PanMan, my subreddit. It has all my WP stories, including a couple originals. Thanks for the support!", "I felt an arrow whizz by my head, and dropped low into hiding at my cubicle. \n\n“Ooohhhh that’s not good,” I whispered, trying not to draw too much attention to my location. I saw a barrage of more arrows fly by, as a I slung my magic bag over my shoulder. “Not on hump day, not on hump day.” \n\nI peaked back over to catch a glimpse of who was streaming into the room, before I dropped back down more terrified than before. \n\n“Cats?” I whispered. I made a sprint for the elevator, then hid behind another cubicle when I heard the air get cut by a fresh barrage of arrows. “Armored, anthropomorphic cats? Are we having an early Halloween party with a cat theme?” \n\nMore arrows whizzed by my head, and I started to think this wasn’t the Halloween party. I reached into my magic bag, hoping for a weapon. Or a carton of milk. Or something to fight off all these anthropomorphic cats with bows and arrows firing at will. I reached deep into the bag, and pulled out.. \n\n“Seriously?” I whispered to the bag. \n\nI rolled my eyes and chucked the bag of glitter across the room. I heard the howl and screech of cats chase it down, before they took off their battle armor and rolled in it. They went on their backs, and then crawled around spreading glitter everywhere, when one of them noticed me and hopped up onto all fours, before reaching back for its bow and arrow again. \n\n“Feckfeckfeck,” I said, as I reached into the bag again. I got a whole two feet of yarn out, and put my hands up into the type of motion you do when you don’t know what the fuck do with something. I saw one of the cats reach for his arrow, then go back down to all fours all serious and start stalking the yarn in my hands. It went slow, then fast, then slow, basically it sprinted at me whenever I blinked and I just blink a lot, before I decided to rush out of the cubicle again stringing it along, until it ran into another cat coming from the other direction trying to get the yarn. I ran away while they wrestled. \n\nI ran with the yarn in hand, and watched as all the archers lost their composure and decided that the new priority in their lives wasn’t shooting at my office mates (quite poorly might I add, they hit no-one), but rather their life’s priority was that sweet, sweet yarn in my hands. I could hardly say it was what I needed for the day, since the last thing I needed was their attention and I had all of it at that point. \n\n“Come on bag,” I said, as I ran down the hallway as cats followed me with blank, scary stares. I reached into the bag, just as a cat appeared from around the corner, ready to shoot an arrow between my eyes like Legolas. I reached into my bag, and simply handed the cat whatever was in my hand. The cat slowly dropped its bow and arrow, and picked up what was in my hands. It held it all awkwardly, since it didn’t have opposable thumbs and couldn’t hold it all too well.\n\nIt was just a picture of Danny Devito smiling like a Cheshire Cat. The cat smiled back in kind, with a grin just as wide, and pawed at it like it was a precious thing. \n\nI tried to sneak away from it as the other cats behind me stalked the yarn dangling from my fist. \n\n“I think this bag’s broken,” I cried as I tripped up on a rolling chair, and ran through a crowd of people running from the suddenly big, sentient, cats. I reached into the bag again, and pulled out a moldy block of tofu. I made a gagging noise as I threw it back at the horde of cats. They all made high pitched noises and jumped back away from the tofu like it was a cucumber, and stopped chasing us. \n\nAll the people in the room ran to the elevators, and the steps, and it was too crowded to get anywhere. People were punching, and kicking, and screaming to get off the floor when we all felt the stomps behind us. \n\nI swallowed some spit and turned around, to the sight of several cats adorned in golden armor standing upright (though it looked like they were straining to do so) and basically just looking like the royal family of the Planet of the Cats. They were walking with their little smaller cat child as well, who was also all dressed up and seemed to make facial expressions and gesticulations really similar to Joffrey.\n\n“We understand, that somebody on this planet has stolen our son’s favorite toy,” said the King Cat with a golden crown, and a carton of good old fashioned American milk in his hands. \n\nThe little child pointed at Bob from Accounting. \n\n“He took it,” said Joffrey cat.\n\n“Settle down son,” said King Cat. “It’s just a little model Trebuchet, and as we understand it one of you has it. \n\nI reached into my bag, and pulled it out with my eyes shut. I kind of wished I hadn’t reached into the bag. \n\n“I think this is it,” I said, with my eyes shut like I felt guilty. But I didn’t feel guilty really I just felt pissed at how much the bag sucked today. I handed him the golden trebuchet. “That’s it, yup. Gotta be it.” \n\nJoffrey ran over and yanked it from my hands. \n\n“Fuck you,” said Joffrey Cat. \n\n“Yep,” I said. \n\nThey walked nobly towards the windows of the office like nothing had even just happened and they weren’t just freaking out for no real reason. The cats left the room messier than they found it, without looking back at the people they’d just traumatized, just like regular house cats. \n\nThey one by one jumped out of the windows of the building. One woman tried to stop them, but the king held her back with a gentle smile. \n\n“We always land on our feet,” said the King, with a hoarse laugh, before jumping. ", "//This seems like a great way to waste math class\n\nEver since I was 5, I've had a backpack. It's an average backpack, storage for a few things, you know. One day I forgot my lunch. I opened my bag and saw a Tupperware container with 3 slices of combo pizza. The lunch I would have taken was a PB&J. After a few weeks I realized the bag carried everything I'd need for the day.\n\nSome days the bag carried normal things, like notebooks. Others it had money, plants, hell even a Carolina Reaper and a fifth of Jack. This was when I was 16, by the way.\n\n So, I was a little weirded out when I opened my bag and saw a quart sized Ziploc full of glitter, the herpes of theatre, and a yarn ball. I dug deeper. I pulled out a black and white picture of Danny DeVito, of all people. There was a permanent marker, and a trebuchet? It looked like one but it had a motor and spings. Then there was a moldy block of tofu, double bagged. I replaced everything and left for school.\n\nAs I was rolling down the freeway, I was jamming out to Zeppelin. As Misty Mountain Hop started playing, I see some flashing lights. 3 State Troopers pull out, and surround this guy. Traffic was already stopped, because morning commute.\n\nThis blue 90's era Accord stops. I stop on the shoulder in my 1968 Camaro, and wait. I see Danny motherfucking DeVito. I get out, run, sharpie and picture in hand, and the window rolls down. 2 Troopers aim their pistols and I run up. The Troopers yell at me to stop but then he gets out. I hand him my pen and picture and he signs it. HE FUCKING SIGNED IT!!!.\n\nI run to my car as the Troopers chase. I quickly plop the tofu in glitter and use the trebuchet to huck it. It splatters and the Troopers drop because of the stench. I tie the yarn to the bag of glitter and swing it wildly. The glitter provides a distraction and I drive off, flying on the offramp. Suddenly, a cassette appears in the bag. I pop it in. Metallica starts blaring. \n\nEND\n\nEdit: People asked, the tofu was approximately 90kg, and the distance was 300m" ]	12
	[WP] You live in world where you can know the exact date everyone is going to die except for yourself. One day, people start acting nice to you. Like, really really nice.	[ "Staring at the little number above people's heads was a habit of mine. A habit most people had in fact. Our whole lives were dictated by the little numbers that floated above our head. From the moment you were born, everyone could see the day you would die. It affected everything. You couldn't have a Prime Minister who would die before his term was up. A CEO would pick his companies heir by which of his children would live the longest. People wouldn't even fall in love with someone who had a low number. I hated it. I hated how unconsciously people treated others differently because of that stupid count down. Even I did it. \n\nSo when people started smiling at me on the street I knew my time was coming to an end. I was halfway to work when I called in sick and decided to have a me day. It was the least i could do for myself right? The smiles didn't stop, even when I ducked into a cafe. I placed my order and began to pull out my wallet but the barista shook her head. \"It's on the house today.\"\n\nMy mouth felt dry, and I nodded, slowly putting my wallet back into my bag. \"How...how much time do I have?\" I asked. \n\nShe gave me a sad smile and shook her head. \"I'm sorry, I have a hard time doing count down math in my head...but not much. Maybe a day at the most.\"\n\n\"T-thanks.\" I replied feeling choked up. I stood off to the side waiting for my drink, thinking of everything I should do today. I'd need to make a couple of phone calls. First my parents would need to know, then my boss...or would he have already known? Was that why he agreed to give me the day off so easily? My stomach churned. It was hard to let myself have a me day when I knew at the end of it my life would be over. \n\nI found myself walking around aimlessly more than anything. I'd get myself little treats here or there, but I could hardly remember the taste by the time I swallowed. My mind was occupied with ways I might die. I was only twenty five. My health had been great so far, and my family didn't have any health conditions as far as I knew so whatever happened today was going to be accidental. At least, that was the best case scenario. I shuddered to think that it could be homicidal. \n\nWith all of my wandering around, I found myself down by the river. I stood on the bridge, looking over the sights. This could be the last thing I ever see. With a sigh I pulled out my phone and began to dial my parents home number but before I could even hit call, someone ran into me. Without thinking, I grabbed hold of him to try and steady myself but as I glanced up at the count down above his head, I knew it was a bad idea. I don't remember much else after that. I just remember the wind in my ears as we both toppled off the bridge and the stinging pain from when I hit the water. \n\nI came back up coughing and sputtering. The river had dragged us down until we were washed back ashore. Was this not how I was suppose to die? Was something else crazy going to happen to me today? Or would I die later in a hospital? I took a sharp breath of air when I noticed the boy who had fallen off with me. I rubbed at my eyes to make sure I wasn't seeing things. His countdown had gone into the negatives. By the way he was looking at me, I'm pretty sure mine was too." ]	1
	[WP] "Wait, no! You're not supposed to use it that way!"	[ "The small white clock above the doorway was Bill's only reminder of how long he have bin stuck in this dull green room. \"You think they could at least given me a magazine on men's health or something\" thought Bill as his eyes desperately searched the room again for something to pass the time. \"Next time drunk Bill charge your damn phone you idiot.\" Bill said aloud bringing a hand to his temple. \n\nSince this morning something seemed off about this hangover.Bill was used to the daily routine of waking up with a spiting head ache and wishing the sun would implode but this would pass by noon normally. This time however the pain continued well pass that and at 5:43 P.M. Bill surrendered to the pain and made his way to the walk-in clinic.\n\n It had bin a miserably boring hour and a half since the petite blond left him in this room devoid of anything entertain. Bill got up from the dent he was forming in the chair and made his way over to some cabinets and drawers in the corner of the room. \"Maybe they got a pamphlet or somethin in here I can read\" Bill thought to him self, pulling open a drawer.\n\nThe drawer was organised and stocked with all sorts of medical tools that he could only recognized a few of .His eye first saw a rather large needle the brought a shiver down his spine and a reminder of why he avoided doctors . He then made a mess wading threw a bunch of medical gauze and bandages. \" I ain't bleeding\" Bill scoffed to him self. His hand finally made contact with a cold glass rod. \" I don't need a degree to use this.\" he said aloud grabbing the glass rod and making his way back to the chair in the middle of the room.\n\nHe plopped back down in to the dent he made and opened his mouth slightly. He popped the glass rod in like a lollipop one ended sticking out the right side of his mouth. \"God this taste like...\" his thought was interrupted by the sound of the door nob being turned. \"I'm sorry for the delay Mr.McCarthy you would not believe what a day we are hav....\" \n\nThe woman in the pure white lab coat stopped mid sentence when her eyes looked up from the clip board. \n\n\"Wait, no! You're not supposed to use it that way!\" She barked quickly \"Spit it out! Now!\" \n\n\"Why should I? \" Bill said back like a defiant 4 year old. \n\n\" Sir that is a rectal thermometer !\" She shouted.\n\n \"A what now?\"Bill asked confused moving the glass rod from the right side of his mouth to left. \n\n-First time posting and wanted to give it a shot finally . Any comments on my writing would be much appreciated." ]	1
Inspired by https://www.reddit.com/r/explainlikeimfive/comments/74f9nn/eli5_why_do_snipers_need_a_spotter/dny1s6q/	[WP] Your peaceful county holds principles of democracy in high regard. While the army retains a basic military structure, there are no orders - every decision require a vote conducted according to formal rules and procedures. War begun. Your squad just engaged in its first combat situation.	[ "\"Squad! We have two options - one! advance towards the enemy from the right flank! Two! Hold the ground, and set up an ambush!\" The Sergeant bellowed. \"I'm enacting Wartime Democratic Protocol Article Four, Section Two - we must now democratically vote on the current strategy, which our squad will follow through with!\" \n\nThree Corporals and seven Privates stared up at him. \n\n\"All in favour of option one!\" \n\nFour hands raised in unison. After half a second, a fifth hand raised - pointing almost horizontally. \"Grenade!\" \n\nThe frag exploded, showering the squad with fragmentation, dirt and bits and pieces of human. When the smoke cleared, the Sergeant was gone. A Corporal stood shakily. \"As per Wartime Democratic Protocol Article Four, Section Three-\" A bullet turned half of his head into red mist, as he collapsed like a sack of potatoes. The last surviving Corporal rose to the challenge. \n\n\"...uh, well, since Corporal Smithson has met his untimely demise, I am following through with double-u dee pee Article Four, Section Three proper, and enacting Section Four as acting commander of Squad Sixteen-\" \n\nA flurry of movement could be seen, and before anyone realized it, a rather large combat knife was pressed against the Corporal's throat. He gulped. \"All... all in favour of appointing Private Jackson as acting commander of Squad Sixteen in the event of my death, according to...\" \n\n\"Will you shut it?\" The man holding the knife growled. \"Listen up, you are now prisoners of war, and shall be treated as such. You will surrender your weapons to my commanding officer and will not resist. Understand?\" \n\n\"...all in favour of understanding-\" \n\n\"I said shut the fuck up!\" \n\n-----\n\n\"Corporal, why are the prisoners unguarded?\" The Staff Sergeant demanded, right in the Corporal's face. \n\n\"Sir, I invite you to watch them with me.\" \n\n\"Why is that, Corporal?\" \n\n\"Sir, you may yet be aware of it, but our enemies have... an extremely peculiar set of procedures that they must follow through in each and, apparently, every aspect of their lives, and no different on the battlefield. Permission to demonstrate?\" \n\n\"...granted.\" \n\n----- \n\n\"Alright, vote is sixteen to thirteen on escaping via the south exit. Moving onto next vote as outlined in Article Five, Section Two, involving the exact manners of our escape and the such. Current voting item: all in favour for Private McIntosh as point man...\" " ]	1
	[WP] A mad scientist, tired of gun violence, infects the entire planet with a DNA altering virus that makes every one extremely durable and bulletproof. That was one year ago and the culture of humanity is starting to get really weird.	[ " Humanities Step Forward\n\nYou know when everyone says your special when your little and everyone else is special too? Well if everyone is special - No one is.\n\n100 years ago, a Russian scientist decided that the war between the U.S, China and Russia had become too violent. The world he had seen was spread with atrocities and false hope that made him question his own humanity. Rather than seeing sons and daughters run off to the slaughter and regimes spread across Europe devouring countries into the war machines like a plague, He decided to end it in a way that no one expected.\n\nWhile working on a new NX-132 virus to target specific troops on a battlefield while invading the EU nations - Stephoff secretly worked on a genetic mutation virus on his own. The mutation virus would strengthen the entire human body down to the genetic level increasing both the durability and longevity of the next level of humanity. He called this genetic mutation the Z-Gene. \n\nOver the next few months the Z-Gene was being tested under the guise of being a prototype for the NX-132 bio warfare virus and given to test subjects. The results were astounding - not only did the skin become hard enough to resist bullets but the organs and muscles became so strong that they could not even die from normal age or disease anymore. Russia in the beginning tried to quiet down this great discovery, giving it only to troops to empower their forces. This however did not last for long as the doctor himself leaked the formula to the other countries to even the sides.\n\nIn the end the NX-132 virus was a complete failure and the Z-Gene was a remarkable success. Skin was no longer burned by fire or chemicals; Bullets no longer pierced flesh and disease and age no longer took its toll. With everything but large explosions or extremely potent gas ineffective the war ended due to large stalemates. \n\nStephoff was however not so lucky, as he died before the war ended of unknown causes and never got to see the peace that he created. That students is how we got here today in the international peace college, getting ready to watch the first colonial launch into space. Today you will see humanity take another step forward thanks to the sacrifice of one man in the darkest time of our history. \n\nLearn from history, so we do not repeat our mistakes. \n\n---\n\nEnd\n\n~Dawg.\n\nFeedback always welcome :D \n" ]	1
So ideally I would like stories involving War and soldiers, but any way you can use the prompt would be great too.	[wp] Those who contribute a significant amount of time to the betterment or detriment of a Horseman's cause are guided to the afterlife by said Horseman.	[ "He was a wise Horseman, who had seen war and carried many soldiers - alive and dead - on his horse. \n\nIt was after the death of his most recent concubine that he guided her to the afterlife, as he had so many before her, when her soul whispered to him - \"I thought you were a Whoresman, but didn't say anything once I saw that donkey dick\"" ]	1
	[WP] When you step into the aura of the people around you, you hear a song according to who they are. One day, you meet a 6 year old girl, and begin to hear a dark heavy metal song.	[ "\"Lucy!\" A woman snapped.\n\nThe girl's head jolted, breaking our eye contact, and we both turned to see a woman fast-walking our way.\n\n\"What did I tell you about wandering off?\" The woman grabbed Lucy's arm, harder than what was necessary. Lucy winced. \"I told you to stay where I could see you!\" The woman turned to me and said, \"I'm so sorry. My daughter can be a little bit of brat sometimes. I hope she didn't get on your nerves too much.\"\n\nI glanced at Lucy. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she stared at the ground and struggled not to cry. \"No.\" I said. \"She didn't.\"\n\n\"Thank goodness! Lucy,\" the woman said sharply. \"Say sorry to the man.\"\n\n\"No, that's fine,\" I said.\n\nThe woman ignored me and squeezed Lucy's arm tighter, until Lucy choked out a, \"Sorry!\"\n\nAs they walked away, I could hear the woman saying things to Lucy that a mother should never say to the daughter. And Lucy just took it with her head bowed. She had to.\n\nAnd I understood what the dark heavy metal song aura was.\n\nShe was trying to drown out the sound of her mother's voice.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write a story that takes place within the span of a second.	[ "This is my first time writing a prompt. Please be gentle\n\nIn a normal sunday morning, A man sat angrily on his couch, as his favorite show he's watching, Game of Thrones, was interrupted by a breaking news. A heist near his house was going down. \n<br>\nAlthough his mind was grumpy, he still had some conscience in him to go there and lend some help. He quickly changed his clothing and dashed outside. He arrived there and took care the guys who did the heist, then quickly ran back to his house continue binge-watching Game of Thrones. \n<br>\nAs he sat down, he saw the news changed. \"The people who did the heist had died. The cause of death was internal bleeding from a blunt force trauma.\" Barry Allen thought to himself, \"I should've went more gently on them\". ", "The DMT hit my brain within a milisecond, time seemed to be slowed down, I shot through a portal of geometric patterns as high pitched echos of laughter seemed to come from the distance, I could not locate where the sound was coming from, in the distance I saw a town lit up with halloween lanterns. I realized I no longer had a body, like a cartoon with no outline, or a droplet of water in the sea, I was both the background and the foreground, I could shift shape into all kinds of objects but they were only that object because I saw it that way.\n\nI slowly started floating towards the town, I looked to my right where I saw a green reindier made out of light run allong with me, the reindier opened its mouth and burped out what seemed like math equations, even though I could not understand the language that it was written in, I could somehow fully understand what it meant.\n\nI arrived at the town, made out of stopmotion playdoh clay. Snow made out of golden light seemed to rain through the town, unable to be stopped by anything it went through, roofs, through the street floor and even through my body.\n\n11 elves stood before me, all with tattoos of eyes between their curly eyebrows.\n\nThe first elf opened its mouth and started to sing.\n\nThe singing created atoms that started to compose me in a new body.\n\nAn alien body, yet a familiar body.\n\nI followed the elves into the main hall of their town, there was a factory inside, the kind of factory santaclaus would have on the northpole.\n\nHowever I wondered, what where they producing? They could create atoms by singing, what could they possibly make in this factory? \n\nThere was a table in the middle of the factory, made from glass filled with all possible colours. I walked towards it yet the elves wanted to stop me. \n\nYet somehow I couldnt stop walking towards it.\n\nWith amazement I looked at the table, THIS IS IT! THE ANSWER TO THE UNIVERSE. \n\nSuddenly the ground started to shake and I fell through the floor like the golden rain, back into my livingroom.\n\nHow long was I gone I asked.\n\n1 second.\n", "This is the story of Dave the electron.\n\nDave lived a quiet life, running around in a circle on a road that he was sure was very important, then one femtosecond everything changed. The road had a branch. A new, better, branch. This branch was much easier to run on, and much longer. Dave had to try it out for himself.\n\nThis new branch was full of new and interesting places. The road curved in ways he had never imagined it could curve and he could feel many of the stops changing when he passed though them. He had never had such an effect on his old road. This place was amazing.\n\nBut then he hit the red lane. This place was awful. Just walking on it hurt, with every step he took he could feel the road beneath him giving way and it took more and more effort just to step forward. \n\nHe had to get though. He could see the end, just a few more step and he would be off this awful road.\n\nThe the red lane gave way, and Dave the electron was sent flying into the air. \n\nHe was sure he was done for, but then he was picked up by a lovely young Oxygen atom. The two fell in love quickly, and though he knew he would have to share her with 7 other electrons, he knew he would be happy with her. No more running, he was finally where he wanted to be.\n\nAnd that is the story of how the claw machine's last light bulb went out, and why you can't play it right now. So scram kid.", "This is my first time writing a prompt. Please be gentle\n\nIn a sunday evening, a man sat angrily on his couch, as his favorite show he's currently watching, Game of Thrones, was interrupted by a breaking news. A heist near his house was going down. \n\n\n\nAlthough his mind was grumpy, he still had some conscience in him to go there and lend some help. He quickly changed his clothing and dashed outside. He arrived there and took care the guys who did the heist, then quickly ran back to his house continue binge-watching Game of Thrones. \n\n\n\nAs he sat down, he saw the news changed. \"The people who did the heist had died. The cause of death was internal bleeding from a blunt force trauma.\" Barry Allen thought to himself, \"I should've been more gently on them\". " ]	4
	[WP] Dear Zork, I’ve recently returned to my home planet after a long vacation. To my dismay a rather nasty human infestation has taken hold. Any advice on eradicating then without further disrupting the biosphere? Love, Xebula.	[ "Dear Xebula,\n\nThat is quite the problem. Take a look at what stage they are at. If they are at stage 4, practically space-able, then the only way to get rid of them unfortunately involves a complete wipe, which leaves your planet a blank slate. \n\nIf they aren't at that stage, you can always just activate that. It should make the humans completely under your command, so you can just easily kill them off. Or, if you want, have some drones to rebuild for you! Just remember to act the part.\n\nHope to see you soon, \n\nZork.\n\n----\nXebula looked over the letter once more, and decided with activating that. With a delicate press of a button from a tentacle, that was activated. It wouldn't take long, so Xebula took to preparing herself.\n\n----\n\nOn earth, a rumbling was heard around the world. The ground shook open, the cracks filling with a viscous green liquid. The fumes that exuded from this liquid enticed humans to drink it. With a single sip, the humans lost all sanity. Their skin started to shed, it now a dark green. All hair fell off, and they ripped off their clothes. Anyone near to these maddened humans were pulled in to drink, sealing their fate...\n\n---\n\nXebula was ready. She had found the right dress, that covered most of her tentacles. Her headdress perfectly extenuated her third eye. To the humans, she would look like a goddess. She set up the landing procedure, and prepared to land.\n\nHer ship landed in the middle of a ruined city. The turned humans crowded around the ship, kneeling on the ground. Xebula descended from the ship, and spoke to her mad worshippers. \"I am Xebula, your new goddess .A new era has begun. Obey me, and you shall be rewarded.\" The humans all echoed a resounding \"Hail Xebula! Hail Xebula!\" Xebula's two mouths smiled. \"Good. Destroy your cities. Soon, we shall be able to rebuild for this new era!\" With that, the humans scrambled off to destroy what was left. Xebula took a stray human and used it as a seat. 'It would take a while, but these humans would repay what they have defaced' She thought, whilst the buildings around her were reduced to rubble, then to chunks, then to dust." ]	1
	[WP] Occasionally your cat would bring you critters, but for the past week she's been bringing home hundred dollar bills. Today she brought home a zip-lock bag filled with white powder and a thumb.	[ "\"What the hell is that!?! A thumb!?\" I screamed at my cat. She kept meowing at me all day, This must be why. She wanted me to see this thing she brought. A thumb in a ziplock with white powder.\n\nThis cat of mine isn't normal - She loves bringing me dead insects and sometimes rats. It's disgustingly cute, Until last week. She's been giving me hundred dollar bills since last week. She couldn't have got it from my wallet. It's with me.\n\nMy cat dropped the ziplock on my feet. I picked it up and stared at the thumb. Why is it there?\n\n\"meow...Meow...\"\n\n\"Huh? What? Why?\"\n\nShe ran around the house. I couldn't keep up - She's fast. She kept running and running, and running, and running, and now I'm tired.\n\n\"Ugh, where are you taking me? First you bring me money... and now you bring me a thumb, and now you... ugh, run?\"\n\nShe stopped running at the basement door. She obviously wanted to get in there.\n\n\"Fine.\"\n\ncrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk\n\nI quickly realized I haven't cleaned this place in a while. Dust everywhere, and it smells. Roaches all round the place. My cat ate some of them. She even gave me its head. Eesh.\n\nI looked around and turned the lights on. Nothing but a disgusting mess. Except for that hatch my cat is sitting on. How'd it get there? How did I not notice it?\n\n\"Cookie, could you please move?\"\n\nShe moved and I opened the hatch. A ladder? Strange.\nI descended. And so did my cat. She just jumped. And it was dark. There was something under my basement and I didn't know about it.\n\nCookie gave me a flashlight. I turned it on. We were in a long hallway with a door at the end. We walked to the door and opened it.\n\n\"It's him! Get him!\"\n\nBefore I could even react, Gunfire was there. I was shot and bleeding. I took cover behind a crate on the hallway. I'm bleeding heavily.\n\n\"Go go go! Shoot him!\"\n\nFck. There were two? I couldn't think -- I'm dying, and there's two people with a shotgun and machine gun. Gotta get out and get help. Wait. Where's Cookie!?\n\n\"AGH YOU STUPID ---\"\n\n\"OUCH OW YOU ARGHHHH\"\n\n\"NO YOU --\"\n\n\"DIE YOU LITTLE -\"\n\n\"What?! Cookie!? No!\" I screamed in horror. She was attacking the two. Clawing them. She was winning. But she could die and I gotta get her. But I'm bleeding like hell. But she could die...\n\nBANG*\n\n\"NO!!\"\n\nThey shot her. My cat is nothing but blood. She's gone. And so will me if I don't get the hell out of here. I'm weakened by my wound but so are the two.\n\nI limped towards the ladder, leaving a trail of blood. I locked the hatch and the basement door. I reached for my telephone.\n\n\"Hello...911\"\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------\nI'M NEW TO WRITING, FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED :D\n\nEdit: Spacing.", "I looked down at Binx and thought to myself\n\n\"Ok this is getting weird now.\"\n\nI grabbed the bag and inspected it through the clear plastic. Yep, that's definitely a fucking thumb. Upon further investigation I noticed a small hole in the bottom of the bag. Clearly a puncture from my cats teeth. Then it hit me. This is probably coke and my cat is probably off the fucking walls right now.\n\nI looked down at where Binx was and as I expected has disappeared. He typically liked to go into the basement because there was much more room down there for him to run. As I descended the staircase with the bag in hand I stepped on a cat toy and started to fall. I fell straight forward and used my hands to catch myself. Big mistake. The force of the fall ruptured the seal of the bag and out came a cloud of white dust right in my face.\n\nI had explosions in my pupils and my heart was racing.\nI felt like the fucking man. I looked up and across the room I saw Binx staring at me with the largest eyes I've ever seen. We must have locked eyes for at least five minutes when he gets up runs away and disappears. I collect myself and stand up and like magic Binx is at my feet.... with a hundred dollar bill from earlier and I knew exactly what I was doing with that money. \n\nBuying another fucking bag of white lightening! \n\nBut where do I go? This was my first encounter with this and it wouldn't be my last. I searched for some kind of connect and came up with nothing after the effects wore off I passed out.\n\nThe following morning I woke up to the soft touch of a paw in my face. I opened my eyes and there is binx standing on my chest. With another bag of coke except this one had a note on it.\n\n\"Dude your cat is chill as fuck but keeps stealing my coke and money, I don't know where this little fucker goes but I'm gonna find out and I'm getting my fucking thumb back or you're dead.\"\n\nThe thumb. The fucking thumb. I forgot all about it! Where was it I knew it was in the bag when I fell but that was the last time I saw it. Now I'm panicking. I knew this would end up poorly. However on the other hand I had a fresh bag of coke...\n\nI said fuck it and got a little crazy. Not even a minute later there is a knock on my front door. I open the door not thinking obviously and swiftly get punched right in the face.\n\n\"WHERES MY FUCKING THUMB?\" \n\nI've never seen a man like this before he was probably five feet tall if he was lucky with a bald head and a soul patch. He wore a pink sweater and jeans.\n\n\"I DONT KNOW DUDE I LOST IT.\" I said\n\"YOU LOST MY FUCKING THUMB?\" He replied\n\"YES IM SORRY. MY CAT BROUGHT IT TO ME.\" Desperately trying to stop my nose from bleeding.\n \nThe man charged me and tackled me to the floor.\n\n\"I WANT my thumb!\"\n\nRight then Binx, who was an all black cat, comes running out of no where his face looked like he just shoved it in a pile of snow and leaped onto the mans face biting all over and scratching all over. \n\nI couldn't believe it but the man literally couldn't defend himself from this cat. He was flailing wildly around the room knocking things off the shelves and even putting a hole through my drywall. Binx was absolutely relentless and the man unknowingly was backing up toward the stairs. Luck was with me today and he well backwards right into my basement and hit his head severely on the way down. I looked at the bottom of my stairs and one thing stood out. The thumb was right there next to the guy at the bottom of the stairs. \n\n\nI called the police and both of us were arrested him for obvious reasons and me for coke possession. Luckily it was my first encounter with the law and they let me off with probation. \n\nOut of all the craziness the one thing that never made sense. The man who attacked me had two thumbs...\n" ]	2
Yes, inspired by a post on r/funny.	[WP] A man ran after a train his whole life. This is his story.	[ "I could hear Amanda giggling as I walked around the old, unused train stop. Evidently a major hub in the past, it was now overgrown and the equivalent of a junkyard. It was a dark, cloudy day, and the shadows cast an eerie atmosphere over the abandoned station. It had always given me the creeps, but that day I had outright chills. I would rather have stayed home, but Amanda had her heart set on going. \n\nIt had always been her and my late wife’s place before her passing, and I’d only voluntarily set foot there a handful of times while she was still alive. My presence there had increased only recently, and always due to Amanda’s stubborn insistence. I’d been hard pressed to say no to my baby since the death of her mother last year. She was all I had left.\n\n“Hey Daddy, I’m going to play on this old train!” Amanda yelled to me. Immediately I was confused by its mere existence, for among the times I’d been there over the years, this was its first appearance. Fittingly parked next to the platform as if it had just arrived, it seemed to have appeared overnight. The locomotive in question was rusty and beat up, but underneath there was a beauty to it, a sort of elegance that dirt and dents could not cover up. However, it was clearly years past its prime and almost certainly non-operational. Overall, this dilapidated train left a bad feeling in my stomach, but I nodded back my approval and inflicted my worst dad joke on her, “Just don’t lose your train of thought!”\n\n“Dad, that was terrible!” She laughed as she stepped inside. I walked off to inspect the scattered pieces of history, as I always did on these days. I enjoyed imagining the past and how the relic I had found was used. After all, I wasn't a historian for the money. I was across the courtyard from my little girl when all of a sudden, I got the biggest chill of all.\n\nA deafening creak rang out as the train rolled slowly forwards, its only witness my distant back. A whistle blew as I whipped around and for a moment, I could believe neither my eyes nor ears. After a second or two of persuasion to my legs I was clearing the space between me and the platform, but to no avail. The train simply picked up speed too quickly. It chugged and chugged over both rusted and imagined tracks, some rails having been stolen or lost long ago. This was a voyage of memory, not one guided by the mortal plane. \n\nI chased after it for hours, following the tracks and hoping it would eventually stop for the night. I ran and ran until my legs complained, then screamed, then threatened to quit. My breath grew so shallow and ragged that I almost passed out. It was a miracle that I didn't need stitches with how sharp the cutting pain in my sides was. The few times I did stop were to reacquaint the contents of my stomach with my mouth, as my comfortable, beer-loving body was not made to handle this level of activity. What had been a gloomy afternoon eventually turned into a hazy dusk, and then to a pitch black night. Inevitably I collapsed, physically unable to move any farther. As the saying goes, if you walk along a railroad track you may soon feel run down. My baby girl was gone, and this method was getting me nowhere. I needed an actual plan.\n\n---------------------------------------------------\nPart 1\n\nWill have Part 2 tomorrow or the day after. I didn't see the post that inspired this prompt so this is my take." ]	1
	[WP] The princess is to have an arranged marriage in a few days, but she doesn't want to because she and her magic tutor have secretly fallen in love.	[ "“Come with me if you want to live.”\n\nA strong hand clamped down on Harry’s mouth as the thrashed awake. He was in bed in his quarters, tangled in the sheets so badly he could not even free own hands to fight off his assailant. \n\nEven with his eyes wide open he could see nothing in the pitch dark of his room in the dungeon. \n\n“It’s me. Be quiet.” Harry, fully awake now, recognized the voice of Princess Moraine. “You must be quiet. I am going to remove my hand now.”\n\n“What the devil is going on?” Harry asked.\n\n“Maria, my handmaiden has learned of our affair and I believe she will tell my father and Lord Rathbone this very night.” \n\nHarry swore. “She would betray you?” \n\n“That girl has no love for me, her own father was hanged as a thief when she gave witness. She was only ever around me because she hungered for power. If she believes she can gain from betraying me, she will.”\n\nHarry knew or guess this already, so it took him no time at all to accept the facts. He struggled to get out of the sheets as Moraine helped. \n\n“We must flee at once,” Moraine said.\n\n“I need to pack.” Said Harry as he pointed his finger at the candelabra. Light flickered from every candle giving Harry’s tired eyes some aid. \n\n“No time, if there had been a chance to pack don’t you think I would have done so myself?”\n\nFor the first time Harry took in Moraine’s full appearance. Her flaming red hair, short and usually well kept, was now a thick mass of tangles. For clothes, she wore only a night shirt, and riding boots. She carried her sheathed sword in her left hand. \n\n“You walked down here like that?” he asked.\n\n“Like I said there was no time. We must go at once.”\n\n“Did anyone see you? Surely you must have stuck out?”\n\n“I ran down the servants stairs, none of them are about at this hour. I guess I was lucky.”\n\n“Be that as it may, our luck may not hold forever, here put this on.”\n\nHarry handed Moraine some of his own clothes, they were close enough in height and size that his clothes looked only slightly ill-fitting on her. Harry grabbed his straw hat, the one he wore while walking in the fields and crammed it on Moraine's head. Only three people in the whole castle had hair like that, the queen, the prince and Moraine herself, the younger sister had raven black curls but looked like Moraine in every other aspect. If anyone were to catch sight of her hair it would be a dead giveaway. Harry silently thanked the Gods she wore it short as he pull on his only pair of riding trousers and a wool shirt that was more patches than original (he had just given Moraine his good shirt). Harry grabbed what little money he had from a pouche on the table along with his wand. There was an open trunk of spell books at the foot of his bed, Harry slammed it shut and tapped the lid with his wand. The trunk disappeared. “I can’t chance it getting into the wrong hands.” He explained. \n\n“Let’s go.” Moraine said, “You check the corridor.”\n\nHarry stuck his head out first. The corridor was just as black as everything else, the only light came from further up the spiral stair case at the end of the hall. With a wave of his wand, Harry extinguished the candelabra. Moraine followed Harry into the corridor. After she quietly shut the door, Harry tapped the lock with his wand. Instead of the click of a lock, the two lovers heard the whine of twisting metal. \n\nThey held hands as they walked down the hall. There were other doors to other rooms on this level of the dungeon, but Harry was the only one who actually lived down here. Each room was used to store something important and each door was locked with thick iron bars and ornate pad locks. Aioan the Grand Mage had constructed these locks himself with the aid of the finest blacksmith in the land. Harry could sense the magic radiating from each lock. Moraine, who was only a student of the art, was only scarcely able to detect strong and simple spells, these magic locks were as meaningless to her as sheet music to a Labrador. \n\nWhen they were more than half way down the hall they heard voices. It was a faint sound, coming from far up the stairs, but the voices were undoubtedly coming closer. \n\nThere was nowhere to hide. Harry knew it was a waste to try opening the magic locks and as for running back to his room, that was suicide. Harry waved his wand at Moraine’s feet then his own. Hand in hand they ran to the stairs there footsteps were silent, instead of up, he led her down to the lowest and final level.\n\nThey waited at the bottom. Harry’s wand at the ready, and Moraine’s hand on the hilt of her sword. \n\n“That was quick thinking with the foot spell,” Moraine whispered.\n\n“I should have thought to it sooner anyway.” Harry chided himself.\n\n“She’ll be in there then,” It was a voice from above, “She’ll be in there with him. In his bed no doubt. To hell with it. I’ll kill them both and marry the sister.” It was Lord Rathbone. \n\nWhen Moraine was small her father had been a strong man. A seven foot giant who fought with a hammer and his fists more often than with a sword. Yet, he was gentle with her and her siblings. He was kind too, often he would pick up his children and toss them high in the air with one hand, only to catch them gently in both arms as they squealed with delight, their small giggles mixing with his booming laugh. It all changed when the king grew sick with the plague last winter. His booming laughter turned to booming fits of coughing, echoing throughout the castle for nights on end. Even the Grand Mage could not heal the king and the whole kingdom feared that Moraine’s brother Edward would become king before he was of age. The king recovered, but only as a shadow of what he once had been. Lord Rathbone, sailed in from the Star Island not a day after the king first lay in bed rest. An entire fortnight Rathbone had sat on a pine stool in front of the throne to do the kings business and when Moraine’s father returned to his great seat, Rathbone was all too happy to stand by his side and give him counsel. The king was never the same from that day forth and when Rathbone asked for Moraine’s hand in marriage the king agreed without even speaking to the queen or Moraine herself. \n\n“You will have your bride my little lord, by season’s end if not sooner, I swear it.” This voice was harsher than Lord Rathbone’s and it filled Moraine’s heart with ice. The thing was not human. Moraine knew not what it was but no human could speak in this way. Confusion and terror played on Harry’s face but only for a moment before he set his jaw in grim determination. \n\nHarry could hear Lord Rathbone’s footsteps as he walked away from the stairs. There was only one set of footsteps but Harry was nothing thinking about that. Magic, any kind of magic leaves a trace and any Magic user, especially any good magic user, would be sure to sense the spell Harry had only just cast on their feet. If that voice was a magic user and if that user was paying attention, it would be sure to notice Harry’s spell. Harry silently prayed to the gods that the Grand Mage’s locks be enough to distract whatever it was upstairs. \n\nWhen Rathbone’s footsteps had drawn away from the stairs, Harry squeezed Moraine’s hand and led her up. Neither one dared even to breath as the crept up in darkness. From the stairs, they could just make out a single figure standing in front of Harry’s door. There was no mistaking that tall thin profile. Harry and Moraine watches as Rathbone reached out a hand extending only a single long and boney finger to the door. \n\nWith a deafening BANG the oak door exploded. Together Harry and Moraine gasped in fear. Rathbone’s head snapped around and they could see his eyes. Two vibrant yellow orbs in the center of Rathbone’s face stared into Harry’s soul. \n\nHarry raised his wand but Rathbone was quicker. Rathbone drew a wand of his own and sent a bolt of yellow lightning directly at Moraine. Blue fire flared from Harry’s wand tip, it spread out in a wall cutting off the corridor from the stairs. \n\nLightning met flame with a crack. The blue wall of fire fizzled out but the job was done well and the lightning never reached Moraine. \n\n*more in comment*\n" ]	1
	[WP] Its been several trillion years since humanity left its home. You, captain of the HMSS Bastion, stands as the last matter left in the universe. Today your batteries die. Today humanity dies with the universe.	[ "“There’s bound to be some in here.” This was the fifth storage bay I’d searched and numbers I-IV hadn’t contained my desired bounty, all things considered though I had a good feeling about V. The Bastion had allotted finite cabin space for all pilgrims and for the most part your entire life fit neatly into your assigned quarters. As with all things however, a couple thousand credits could persuade some of the more morally-aloof cargo staff to massage the rulebook and “find space;” bay V was reportedly where the Academy prefects had stashed their treasures and trinkets. \nI ended up having to pry open the door; the ships ion generators began their slow death nearly 500 years ago and by now all remaining power was devoted to life-support functions on the bridge. The frame offered a low groan in protest but a little elbow grease helped me push it beyond its lock-point, I left my pry bar to prop things open lest the mechanics fail while I was inside.\n\nThe interior of the bay was dark as all hell and per usual my helmet lights refused to turn on. A few knocks to the side of the housing eventually roused one of the beams to action; my gear, as with all things aboard the Bastion, was in a perpetual state of disrepair. The middle of the room was occupied by a sagging conveyor belt walkway that ran the length of the bay, on either side it was flanked by alloy boxes stacked into storage complexes ten stories high. In better days the withdrawal system was handled by the ship’s artificial gravity and magnetic wizardry, now I’d have to climb the stack and manually retrieve the units I wanted. \n\nI made my way over to the organic storage section, then to agricultural artifacts, then to organic, agricultural artifacts beginning in ‘C.’ The manifest displays at the head of each row had gone out decades ago but mercifully ghosted their text into the now-dead screens, a likely side effect from being always-on for over a century. According to the manifest I was looking for a ‘Box C.09.0027,’ as luck would have it the damn thing was perched ten meters up, I powered down my mag boots and began the slow float upwards. \n\nAs per my luck the box would not budge without considerable coaxing, when that didn’t work a couple of persuasive kicks helped dislodge it from the cabinet and one last one pushed it down towards the floor. I listened for the tap it made when it touched the ground before I made my way back down. Surprisingly enough the box opened without any fuss, I allowed myself a moment to mentally reprimand the lax privacy measures. \nThe inside was half filled; stacks of flora from Chitarra-09, a preserved Cq’oloy from Centaur-Nessus, schematics for something called a “cat.” Eventually I found my prize in a hard-case vacuum pack stuffed flush with the lower right corner. The package was maybe the length of my forearm and almost suspiciously light, I clipped it to my suit and started on back towards the door. \n\nTruth be told, the walkway connecting the storage bay to the bridge was one of my favorite places on the Bastion. Parallel rails ran the length of the hall and a mechanized barge once used to ferry cargo to and fro rested at the far end, the rightmost wall was a floor-to-ceiling hard light observation panel that looked out from the belly of the ship. In the past I spent hours staring out at the speckled ocean of stars beyond the window.\n\nThe wall dissipated when the power died and now only vacuous light filled the corridor. I tethered myself to a handrail and spent some time fumbling with my suit electronics, in the end I traded 4 minutes of fresh air for 150 seconds of power to my mag boots. With that, I flipped on my sun shade and started down the length of the hall. \n\nThe Bastion had been anchored above Crito-066 for nearly a millennia and I could recite all the constellations and planets that neighbored her by heart. I paused to steal a glance at the Cebren cluster; my mother used to tell me stories about Asterope and Aesacus, lovers whose incendiary heartbreak made their stars burn hard and bright. By now, the blackness had eaten Aesacus’s light and I stayed for a little while to watch Asterope suffocate and fizzle before she too disappeared from my sight. \n\nThe bridge doors were the last functioning pair on the entire ship, in better days they actuated smoothly along their rails and greeted passers-through with a cheerful, electronic chirp. The motion sensor has been broken for nearly a century and now the doors bounce off of one another a handful of times before settling at a complete seal. I’ve since developed the habit of counting to thirty before I even think about taking off my helmet. The forward window was a smooth crystal hemisphere covered by an anti-radiation field, I shuttered it twenty years ago with a half foot of lead shielding and rerouted the electricity powering from the field to keep the cabin lights and more importantly, the greenhouse on.\n\nThe bridge was also home to our shipboard A.I.; Kalindra-063 was designed by my grandfather almost 1200 years ago. At first she was relegated to basic ancillary functions like plotting courses, calculating probabilities and running simulations but subsequent software updates really brought her to life. By the time I was born she had become whip smart, funny even, and always one step ahead of even our most brilliant engineers. HER logic cores were deactivated twenty years ago to divert power to the air filtration and artificial gravity routines.\n\nStill, under the circumstances I felt it was time to wake her from her, she’d been with the Bastion for over a millennia and it didn’t seem right for her not to have a front-row seat to the end. I strolled over to the captain’s terminal and launched into the ship’s basenet, as expected failsafe protocols attempted to strong-arm me at every turn but eventually I got the overrides that I wanted. Startup usually took anywhere from 60-90 seconds but given the decades of neglect I assumed I’d probably have around three minutes before I have to make conversation gave me just enough time to get started on my storage-treasure. \n\nI turned my attention back to the package I’d retrieved from bay V, usually vacu-paks had a button or seal you could pop and they automatically unfold the rest of the way but this one in particular had none of that; I inspected it a bit longer before grabbing a knife from the kitchenette and going to town. As light and thin as the pack seemed, the exterior was surprisingly resistant to cuts. That said, our species is nothing if not adaptable and a couple of long, arcing, overhead stabs eventually split the bag open. The contents, of course, exploded in every which way around the cabin. \n\nTo tell you the truth, the plant inside didn’t look anything like I’d imagined it to be. As a child I was taught that our homeworld was covered in bountiful greenery with green being the operative word, the plants we grew on the Bastion only served to further support this conclusion. This…”crop” however was small and brown, slightly oblong and most importantly smelled like nothing I’d ever known to come from “nature.” Still, I figured there was no harm in trying at this point and so I knelt down to gather what had scattered on the floor.", "Since first one was a bit off-topic, I felt like I need to get one on topic. I had genius idea generated while going home. Inspired thanks to the /u/ThisCakedoesntlie and /u/YummyGummyDrops ! I hope this story matters to them!\n\n----\n\nAs a last of humanity, I saw how the battery was reaching zero in a few moments. I am John, captain of the HMSS Bastion and this is the last matter left in the universe. As I watch outside of our spaceship window, I can see hazily, how there is endless darkness. What used to be countless stars was now simply endless dark space.\n\n\nHe heard how battery signal started beeping while reaching closer to zero. Suddenly it hit it and he heard how everything was shut down.\n\nHe could feel how everything started to go cold. Suddenly he felt it, breathing became harder. He tried to take more and deeper breath, but suddenly he couldn't breathe in anymore. He grabbed his throat, as he tried to breath in. He couldn't. He heard how someone was trying to tell him something via radio, but he couldn't make out of words, as he was only trying to take a breath he couldn't.\n\nSuddenly he felt how someone put his hand on his shoulder, as he opened eyes, he saw dad in front of him. He tried to breathe in quickly and it finally worked without any problems. He couldn't breathe with his nose though, as it was full of fluid...\n\n\"John, jeez, you scared me for a moment!\" he said, wiping some sweat off of his forehead and putting a thermometer under his clothing.\n\n\"Dad.... I had a horrible dream,\" John started.\n\n\"No shit,\" dad stated and looked John into his eyes.\n\n\"I was the only matter left in the universe, and then the battery run out of charge and then I ran out of the air and I couldn't breathe. I was suffocating dad!!\" explained John quickly without taking any breathe in between the telling.\n\n\"John... John! You know,\" started dad, to calm him down, \"it is impossible that you or anyone else would be the only matter left in the universe!\"\n\n\"How do you know that?\"\n\n\"Because, humanity, we all matter!\"\n\nSon looked at his dad for a short while. \"Are you serious dad? I saw a horrible dream, this is the perfect moment for you to look like an awesome dad and instead you make an awful pun?\"\n\n\"Now, now son!\" said dad, calming the John down again and taking the thermometer back under the clothing. He continued, \"You know what really matters, John? Your fever has gone down. You should take a breather...\"\n\nJohn looked at his dad again, as he had said something awful to him. He lifted his finger up and showed it towards the door as a sign.\n\n\"Hahaha, John, you know. It never hurts once in a while to charge your batteries, you know?\"\n\nJohn started searching something to throw at his dad.\n\n\"Okay, I'll show myself out!\" dad left quickly with a huge smile on his face.\n\n\"Unbelievable...\" said John while having also huge smile on his face. He knew that his family indeed did matter to him.", "“Primary power banks critically low. Atmospheric biomanufacturing critical. Solar collection arrays malfunctioning. Engine drive systems critical. Nuclear fusion backup systems offline. Attention required. Alerts repeating. Pri-\"\n\nI clicked off the alert system. It was wonderful to hear human speech again, but it was a waste of power. My companions died months ago. Nothing killed them, but it's remarkably difficult to convince people to strive when you only have the end of the universe to watch.\n\nSo, in an effort to remain alive, I positioned the HMSS Bastion in a close orbit around the dead remains of a black hole. Remarkably the radiation escaping the event horizon provided a miniscule gain in my power cells, but even that wasn't enough to keep power forever.\n\nI closed the monitor systems. Two hours remained in the energy banks. Enough to do the only thing we, as humans, could. Write down our stories. I stoically set the computer systems to kill power to all rooms, leaving only enough time for me to travel to the record room, in our medical bay.\n\nI clicked off the power and heard the air vents click off. If I didn't get moving, I would be floating my way through the ship. I walked through the door, closing the automatic airlock behind me.\n\nThe cargo bay was filled with massive stocks of food stores, but nothing else. I closed the doors. Thoughts of my companions found my mind. Games played in that very hold. Meals forced down our gullets, despite Carol's oblivious lack of culinary skill.\n\nI passed through the crew deck, where each of our rooms were housed. The decades of conversation flowed through my head. Good, bad, ugly, romantic, they all floated in the air like they were written on the walls. I closed the airlock and entered the medical bay.\n\nA few systems set up and I began the recording process. This would be the last human creation in our cold universe. A full digital recording of my mind. I sat back in the chair and felt a mild buzzing.\n\nThe first hour passed quickly, then we continued into the final hour. I swam in memories from the years before, when we weren't floating between hollow rocks for survival.\n\nLights flickered, and I felt the artificial gravity falter. I watched with mild interest as an IV bag floated off the counter and plopped into the sink. My scan system would reach my current mental state in moments, but I had no idea if the life support systems would survive that long.\n\nI closed my eyes, before the lights clicked off altogether. The screen near my head stated it was at 94%. The backup system for the scanner was powered enough to complete the scan, but that would be it.\n\nThe air vents were the next to go, slowly ticking away into silence, as the air in my vessel grew deathly silent. The soft whir of the scanner was the only sound left.\n\nThe gravity gave out next and I hastily tightened the belt I had jerry rigged to the scanner’s seat. I silently stared at the screen. 97% completed. It should be scanning recent memories. The ones of the final programming I had done for this venture.\n\nA chill passed through me. Echoing bangs and creaks filled the silence. Pressure compensation usually prepared the ship for containing an atmosphere’s worth of oxygen and other mixed gases, but not for when those same gases were allowed free reign.\n\n98% blinked on the screen. The temperature was dangerously low. I saw my breath floating into the darkness. At least this would be a calm way to end my story, I thought. No words, no violence, just a calm, quiet moment, as my last little light clicked off.\n\nThe buzzing got worse as the blue screen showed 99%. It was scanning my real time mind. I closed my eyes. The last thing I noticed was my lungs beginning to burn.\n\nThen I saw something strange.\n\nA white room. I bolted up. A blue sheet fell off me. The room was lit from the window. A real sun lit a planet outside. I slowly stood and walked towards the foreign object.\n\n“You-are awakened?” a voice said in a strange, foreign sounding voice.\n\nI turned, and saw a gray skinned humanoid creature with large, curious eyes. It sat forward in a chair, a soft red cloak hanging off of it.\n\n“Y-yes,” my voice almost failed me, like I had never used it. That thought had only just hit me as the creature stood, lating what looked like a datapad.\n\n“You-are humanity. I am aleri. I am…” the creature paused as if trying hard how to say a word. “Doctor? I thought that is word.”\n\nI smiled politely and waited as it (I later found out it was a him,) stuttered through an explanation.\n\n“Aleri probes find your universe decades after your long-sleep. We found your recordings of yourselves, and have worked years to recreate your… physical binds? No… body. You are only first we found, as well. We found others.”\n\nMy heart skipped a beat, and an alarm blared. My doctor started to panic, until I got his attention.\n\n“May I see them?” I asked quietly.\n\nThe Alerian contorted his face in a way that I was eventually explained as an equivalent of our smiles. He led me down a few hallways into another medical bay and showed me a cluster of beds. Various members of my crew laid on their backs, all looking like they were asleep.\n\n“Sleeping sickness binds them until their minds may wake,” my alerian guide explained, “But alerians worry that we overstep. We have power to revive the race of you. But recordings are all of worries of deaths.”\n\nI looked at my host, and back at the faces of my friends, my crew. I tearfully told the alerian to revive anyone they could.\n\nOur universe had burned out, and left us cold among the rocks, but we survived to find a new one, in the stories, our selves, that we left in our rocks.", "\"Warning, battery critical, re...\" captain turned the volume down, as he had heard that sentence too many times. He knew that 1 percent was nothing, the problem was the timer what showed when it ran out of batteries. In recent few years, he had turned slowly part of the ship systems down to preserve batteries as much as possible, however, for a long time HMSS Bastion has been running literally only on life support systems. Of course, the ship has a method to create energy via sunlight, but the issue is that life system alone uses more energy than it manages to generate. While they managed to refill battery few times, it still reached zero point at some points.\n\nIt is actually a huge secret, that today is likely the last day when humanity lives. He had thought several options, how to ease the pain because dying because of lack of oxygen sounds very painful, but he simply cannot take on those counter-measures.\n\nIn past, possibly several million generations, humans have tried different methods to preserve life and continue living. They have made systems better, they have over and over again optimized a certain system, so sunlight would refill batteries at least as much as it spends. Then they lived through the war of the colonies, where colony ships went into war to steal other colony batteries, energy and other materials. Victorious colonies used destroyed colony ship materials to get better, as there are no other methods to get materials. After all those trillions of years, they still haven't found a planet, where they could land and make as a new home.\n\nBut even after surviving through all that, it is ever changing fact that materials get old, system start to burn out when time pass and things get slower. Solar panels do not produce that much energy anymore and systems require more energy, so it could maintain slow running systems.\n\nIt wasn't that long time ago when he had visited the last planet, their last hope. It was literally last chance, as there won't be enough battery, fuel, energy to check out next ones. Yet that planet was uninhabitable. Thus they are still drifting towards next hope. At least that is what people think. It is true, they do drift there, but there is no way they will make it there. They used last energies to push towards next planet, to really drift there. For their surprise, it would take only around 10 years to make it to the next planet. Not long time ago, that 10 years was nothing, but now it sounds like forever.\n\nCaptain finally takes up his microphone, to say something to the crew, even though most of them spent last moments with their family.\n\n\"The captain is speaking...\" he starts, as there is no response. He knows, however, that many have stopped their doings to listen to this last message.\n\n\"We have a little bit of energy we would need to do planet landing. However, as we decided, we cannot use that energy to float a little bit more.\"\n\nActually, he had discussed this with the council, that maybe they should use all the remaining battery to win extra few hours or so, to give people last moment to talk with their families and such. Ultimately it was decided not to. Maybe there is tiny hope that this thing will make it to the next planet and even after they are dead, there is another human ship they do not know of, who makes it there too and needs that tiny bit of energy to make a landing. For them, it doesn't matter, if they get extra few hours or not. They are gonna die either way.\n\n\"Thus, ship life support systems will be shut down in 10 minutes. After that, we will have only certain amount of time till we run out of the oxygen. We do not know how long it will take, but spend that time as you wish...\" he said into the mic, trying to not cry. \n\n\"I thank you all for your service!\" he added quickly, as he turned off the mic.\n\nOnly after 10 minutes, when huge red marker started blinking, he pushed a button and heard the loud yet quiet sound of something stopping. Only those who paid attention might have noticed that.\n\nHe looked at different screens, where literally every system except the solar panels was offline. That solar panel now supported few last remaining system. Mostly those screens to collect data and lightning. They took literally very little energy. He was even a bit surprised that there is actually quite a lot of energy what is being collected as extra. Of course not even close enough for other big systems, but enough for possibly some smaller extra stuff.\n\nCaptain himself had already decided how he is gonna spend his lasts moments. He stood up and went to his living quarters. He took off his clothes and entered the bed. After stretching for a while, he took in a strong sleeping pill and turned to a side. \"Ah, I wish I could see the next planet...\" he always took all those things for granted, but it was first-time wish and dream he wanted to really happen and thought of not seeying it saddened him. Then he fell asleep.\n\n\n-----\n\nAs captain changed sides, he slowly opened his eyes. It was truly weird sleep he had. He looked ceiling and suddenly his eyes opened wide. He remembered everything and that he should be dead. He looked quickly time. 36 hours had passed since he went to sleep. Pills were strong after all. According to data, he should be dead already.\n\nHe quickly stands up, puts his captain clothes on and looks his small console on the hand.\n\n\"You have 35 messages,\" says the console. He exits the room and starts walking towards captain quarters. On the way, one of his crew member stops him.\n\n\"Captain, so you used last bit of the battery after all?\" he asked. \"I know you ignored council orders, but I still thank you for it!\"\n\nCaptain, however, did not tell him that he did not ignore orders. As he entered captain quarters, he quickly said: \"Show me the oxygen levels starting from 36 hours ago!\"\n\nHis main screen showed all oxygen statistics. Life support systems had generated 0 percent oxygen. Oxygen levels have also dropped significantly to 78 percent. At that point, whenever it ticked to 77 percent, it soon went back to 78.\n\n\"What the fuck?\" he didn't understand.\n\n\"Show me oxygen levels by the rooms!\" he looked at the rooms, where average oxygen level was 70 everywhere, except few rooms.\n\nHe started smiling and that smile turned into a laugh. Of course, why didn't he think of that before? All the rooms where their food plants grow had oxygen level 98 percent and they had a shitton of those rooms. They had even trees. He realized, that humanity had been drifting for too long in the space, that they had forgotten the basic earth knowledge. There is more than one method to create oxygen, besides life support system that is.\n\n---\n\nEdit: Made some fixes :)\n\nPS: You should read below another entry what I made!" ]	4
	[WP] When you black out, instead of forgetting what happened the night before, you forget a random skill. Today you realize you’ve forgotten how to walk down stairs.	[ "I peered down at the wooden stairs, searching my mind for how exactly to traverse down them. I lifted my foot over the stairs, and quickly retreated it back to the ground above. Something that seemed so simple before became so difficult. I put my hand to my chin and said, \"Hmmm... Well, this sure is a pickle.\"\n\nI got an idea. I slowly eased myself down onto the floor, sitting at the top of the stairs. \"Okay, this may hurt, but at least it's something,\" I muttered. Step by step, I scooted myself down, uttering small noises of discomfort as my behind hit each hard step. I finally got to the bottom of the stairs, and hoisted myself back into a standing position. \"Well, I'm glad that's done.\"\n\nI walked toward the door, and then stopped, turning to look at the stairs for a moment.\n\n\"Well, shit.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You're a soldier who's always dreamed of fighting for his country, but once you're deployed to the front lines, you find out you have a peculiar ability: every man you kill has the ability to speak to you for five minutes after their death.	[ "They curse me, they condemn me, and they beg me to spare their loved ones. The telepathic network that these Old Worlders have has a major advatnage - they resonate within that network even after death and for a short while it allows them to communicate with each other. It is how they are able to counter attack our forces even when we start a devastating offensive. I can understand why this front was so stagnant for this whole while.\n\nThey call me the thankless son. I have roots in the Old World but I am fundamentally different. I was made to be the ultimate weapon to counteract their peculiar combat tactics. Still, it feels almost as if they knew who I am and everything about me. They beg me to stop, saying the world is at stake. They pray to their god that I could be struck down by her hand while others pray that we never meet. I have overheard their prophecy. They believe that their spiritual leader is capable of bringing about complete victory for their cause. They also believe that this victory can only be achieved if she and I do not meet. They curse me for what I do, but they mostly fear me for what they believe I could do. I know not about their prophecies' weight, but it amuses me to overhear the chatter of their minds in their last moments and shortly after. Old Worlders do not fear death like we do. They fear the fate worse than death.\n\nAs for myself, I have a duty for my country. I have a purpose that is entirely my own. I do not have a care for their prophecies nor for the judging looks of my comrades. They call me inhuman for what I can do, yet they also state that they are glad that I am here to do the fighting for them. They do not stop me when I go on a rampage, and it isn't just because they are completely unable to stop me. I think they also understand that murder has been my purpose on this earth. I have found my medium and I am performing the art of which I am a master. I give the final orders to the lieutenants and put on the helmet. It muffles the sound of the voices and allows me to concentrate. It even plays music. Sometimes I pick a random track.\n\n\nOther times, the cries of my victims are all the music I need", "\"You're a terrible person.\" The last words he would ever speak. His true last words. His death had been quick, too fast to gasp out any words. The ones he had spoken to me, after his death, with hate and intent to hurt. All I had deserved... I had killed him.\n\nI had made the mistake of apologizing, otherwise he wouldn't have realized I could even hear him. The raw truth I had heard while I tried to stay stolid had broken me down. I couldn't simply pin them down as a faceless person, and wish them away. I had been told that these men were savages. We were doing the world a favor by removing these men. All this coming from men who had never taken a life, or fought in the way that \n\nMaybe, the rumors were true, I was going insane. I felt as if I were. Trying to shield myself from the tragedy made me callous, but inside shards of glass stabbed. Trying to ask for forgiveness from those people was absurd, but my soul cried out for me to try, even with what I knew. So I tried. Every time, each in a different way. I never was actually able to ask. It would be futile anyways, it would simply devalue their life. The supposed value of my own life keeping me alive.\n\nA month in I only had a thread of life left. A selfish want overtaking everything; to stay bound to this earth. It was a women that finally broke me. It had to be a civilian. She wasn't even trying to kill anyone. She was just caught in the cross hairs. I couldn't continue, so I retired. Laying on the ground, gunshots rung out. But I could hear each word she said. They weren't of hate, but simply asking a question, \"why.\" I didn't have an answer. And then she said a single sentence. One of forgiveness.\n\nIt took the rest of the day to actually do it. Then I was there. Standing in front of a crowd. Each face ghastly and broken, the people who had killed me. The wounds I had inflicted, each break in my mind. I knew their name, their children, that would miss them, and their most regretted secrets. Their words had made sure of that. I had words to say, but nothing would be enough to match their's. They had made sure that their words would haunt me.\n\n", "I watched the man bleed out. Nobody could survive losing that much blood. I took a deep breath, and turned towards the hallway, intending to go find what was left of my squad.\n\n\"Wait\"\n\nI spun around, and drilled three more rounds into the man. Nailing him twice in the chest, and once in the pelvis. Failure to stop drill. That was... unnerving. I realized I was holding my breath, my ears were ringing. I could hear the amplified ear piercing pops of 5.56 being fired indoors, coming from elsewhere in the building. I released the breath, and turned to leave.\n\n\"Wait\"\n\n I spun around again, and did a mag dump into the man's body. My Senior Lance Corporal's had told me about Hadji's playing dead, and throwing Grenades at you, the second you had your back turned. That wasn't happening to Eugina King's only son, no sir.\n\nI walked over to the man, after doing a speedy mag change, and kicked the dead man in the ribs. The Man's head turned towards me. My finger twitched into the trigger guard, and I put a hole in his forehead. My ears were ringing even worse. But the man just looked at me.\n\n\"I think you have killed me\" the Man said not only in English, but very matter of factly, as if the brains on the floor under his head, and the bloody dishdasha didn't give that away. \"Thanks Dick\"\n\nI didn't know what to do here, shooting the man only made my ears ring, but he didn't seem to be .....well... Dead.\n\n\"You shot at me first\" I said back defensively \"if you hadn't, I would have just kept Patroling to the school.\"\n\n\"Sh-shot at you first?\" He said incredulously \"you invaded my Country, you little shit!\"\n\n\"I did not!\" I shouted, and than realized, I was getting into an argument with someone who should be dead. I lowered my voice\n\n \"look, the invasion happened years ago\" I made it a point to look the bloodied man in the eyes \"and why did that invasion happen?\"\n\n\"Because......\" the bloodied man made a small disgruntled sigh \"Well.... we did that for a very good reason......\"\n\n\"That's what I thought\" I looked smug \"you guys are the assholes\"\n\nThe man did not respond. I thought he was trying to come up with something to say, but he looked..... deader..... Than he had a minute ago.\n\n\"King\" \n\nMy name made me jump put of my skin. I was spinning around, about to bring mt rifle up, when I realized it was Corporal Granawitski.\n\n\"The fuck you doin in here, brother?\" He asked. \"You talkin' to that dead Hadji?\"\n\n\"Yes, I was Corporal\" I said honestly \"I'm not sure if he is dead, he has a lot of things to say\n\nCorporal 'Ski, silently looked at me. He looked like he was mulling something over. Finally he gave a short nod, more to himself than to me, as he finished his internal debate.\n\n\"Hey brother\" he said, sounding more like a big Brother, than the hard ass Infantry Corporal he was. \"Let me see your rifle\n\nHe held out his hand. I looked down at my rifle, than at the Corporal's outstretched hand. I looked up at the Corporal, he nodded encouragingly, I handed over my Rifle.\n\n\"Hey, let's get out of this dump and get some fresh air\n\nA week later, I was riding a C-17 back to the states. I ended up on the Fourth floor of the Camp Pendleton Naval Hospital. Everyone thinks I am crazy. I'm not. I swear.", "The day has finally arrived. Hopefully, this will be my first fire-fight. We got intel yesterday of a group was rallying at the northern bridge. I guess the higher ups are worried they're going to make a push our direction. We've been sent north to hold them back.\n\nAfter all the training I've been through, this is the moment I've been waiting for. I just hope I make my folks proud. Only reason I joined was to contribute to the war effort. So many people my age just wanted to go to college or have kids and a family. I wanted to get back at the fuckers who thought they could mess with the best.\n\n\"Charlie, what's your ETA?\" the voice over the comms said.\n\nSergeant Reeves answered back. We were almost to the bridge. \n\nI'm not sure if the vibration on the truck was helping my nerves or if it was making it worse. One moment, I've got butterflies out of fear and the next, out of joy. It's really a strange feeling. Dreadful optimism maybe?\n\nThat's when the explosion went off. \n\nApparently, these ass-hats had decided too put some IED's in the roadway knowing we'd make a push. And we fell right into it. After what seemed like ages, my hearing started to come back to mee. \n\n\"Sailors! Anderson! Michaels! Sound off!\" our Sergeant Reeves called out.\n\nFinally able to move and catch my breath, I shout, \"Anderson here! Over here sergeant.\"\n\nA few moments later, I see Sergeant Reeves crawling over to me. \"Looks like we're all that's left Anderson. You hurt?\"\n\nNot feeling much pain other than some stiffness, \"Nah sergeant, I think I'm good. The sure was fucking loud though.\"\n\n\"Yeah, you get used to it. Ain't my first rodeo son. Now keep low and follow me. They know we're here so stay behind the truck. The fuel ain't caught yet but it won't be long and we'll have another explosion on our hands.\" With that, we began to inch our way from the wreckage.\n\nAfter a few hours and a number of close calls, we managed to get down in a ditch that still had a line of sight toward the enemy. Of course, this meant that if could see them, they could probably see us. Maybe six or seven hundred yards out. \n\n\"Anderson, take this stick, put your headgear on it, and raise it up. Let's see if they've know we're here.\" Sergeant Reeves said as he hands me a piece of wood. \"Don't hold it up for too long. I just want to see if they're watching our location.\"\n\nSo I do as he asks and take my headgear, put it on the stick and hold it up for about ten seconds....\n\nNothing. \"If they had been watching this way, they probably would have taken a shot,\" said Sergeant Reeves. \"Alright, I'm gonna poke my head out for a second to see for myself.....\" He went quiet for a moment. \"Well, here goes nothing.\"\n\nSergeant Reeves slowly poked his head out from the edge of the ditch toward the enemy position and slowly lowered back down.\n\n\"Ok Anderson, those guys seem to be celebrating. I don't think they even know we're alive right now. How lucky are we?\"\n\nI guess he was right. Surviving an IED blast and not being spotted by the enemy as we made our escape was lucky but it sure as fuck didn't feel like it. \n\n\"Sergeant, what are we gonna do? We don't have any comms, we're out in the open, and we've only got one rifle and,\" I checked to see how many magazines I had. \"Four magazines on me. How many do you go Sergeant?\"\n\n\"I've got two. I think I lost the others back at the truck. Shit, I told the platoon leader we shouldn't have went down the main road fucking educated prick.\"\n\nI suddenly got angry at him, \"Sergeant! Now is not the time to be playing the blame game. We need to get our asses out of here.\"\n\nSergeant Reeves stared blankly at me for a few moments. \"Yeah, you're right. Set up a prone position. There's only a few. Maybe we can take them out cause I don't know what else to do. If we get up, they'll see us for sure and we might as well have died back there,\" he said pointing at the now smoldering wreck.\n\n\"Hoo-ah Sergeant.\" And with that I got set up to take these guyss out.....\n\n\"Alright, I'll be your spotter. You just focus on hitting these guys. Rooftop, south end facing north. See em?\"\n\n\"Roger.\" I focused my sights and prepared to fire. The sound of my rifle rang out across the valley. \n\nAnd suddenly in my head I hear, \"WHAT THE FUCK?!!!?!?!?! Fuck that, my head... what the fuck. Oh shit, oh shit. No, that's me. But how? I'm....no. No this can't be, no, not now. Oh what the fuck. I was just trying to sleep. What the fuck?\"\n\nMy bullet had hit the guy in the back of the head. I never got much better than marksman at the range so I guess luck was on my side. But this voice, I'd never heard before. At least the fucker was dead.\n\n\"I gathered that much shit head now who is talking to me? You killed me.\" the voice continued to speak irately before finally disappearing. What was that?\n\nThe enemy troops had now gotten into their defensive positions but once we saw them running around, there was only five more guys in that small building.\n\nWhispering now, Sergeant Reeves said, \"Good job Anderson. Now we've got their attention but it doesn't look like they know where we're at yet. Let's wait a while before we make our next move.\n\nSo we waited....\n\nAnd waited...\n\nAnd waited until nightfall. \n\nIt was near pitch black outside. If not for the lights inside the building, we would have been completely lost. During our time waiting, Sergeant Reeves and I spoke about different things and played some cards. Sergeant Reeves apparently used one of his ammo pouches for playing cards and smokes instead of magazines. But thank god he did cause even though I didn't normally smoke, it sure was good. \n\n\"Ok Anderson, I think I've come up with a plan but we need to get closer to the building. I haven't seen a single person pass in front of that window so I don't think they've got a patrol set up. Let's move.\"\n\nAnd away we went. At first we crawled toward the building but after a few, we figured it was safe enough to walk. Slowly we made our way to the building. And I be damned if we didn't have luck on our side!\n\n\"They're all asleep!?\" I whispered.\n\nSergeant Reeves nodded. Pointing down to his hands, he was holding two grenades. He then motioned as if pulling the pins and tossing them inside. He then mimicked running away. I nodded in agreement. \n\nHe handed me one of the grenades and motioned on three.\n\nOne...two...three...\n\nAnd we tossed both grenades in and run like mad away from the building. Suddenly, a chorus of voices enter my head.\n\n\"WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY???\" was all that I understood before a cacophony of voices all garbled together started talking. \n\n\"Shut the fuck up.\" I thought to myself and the voices went silent. \n\nI paused.\n\nAgain I thought to myself, \"Those guys are dead right?\"\n\nSuddenly, one of the voices speaks up, \"I guess so but who are you?\"\n\n\"The enemy...\" I thought to myself. Am I really talking to the dead?\n\n\"I told you that someone survived. And what about Usef? Up on the roof? You said it was suicide but he was murdered!\"\n\nA different voice chimed in, \"He...said he missed his family...I just assumed....\n\nI interrupted, \"You murdered us too assholes. My whole fucking platoon is gone now.\"\n\nA softer voice spoke out, \"And we have paid for our sins for we shall now have eternal glory. The Duck God is the one true God. You people and your Rabbit God. I spit on his name.\"\n\nAnd after a few more minutes of useless banter, the voice slowly faded. \n\nSoon after, I left the service of the Holy Rabbit God Army and became a teacher but I'll never forget those day on the front lines during the Holy Wars. " ]	4
	[WP] You wake up in a strange room, looking around you see several others with you, apparently equally confused. A distorted voice plays over an intercom, "One of you is not who they seem, they are responsible for you being here. Find them, and you're free."	[ "At first I couldn't remember how I had fallen asleep. I opened my eyes to the vision of a windowless ceiling of a large dome of dark stone. I remained in my position of rest for about ten seconds, knees bent upwards, one arm in the space between my thighs, not registering that I was not lying at home in bed. Then I jolted upwards. Behind my head was a wall of solid grey rock, and looking down the length of it I saw that it formed a large circular room, maybe thirty yards from wall to wall and the same from the floor to the apex of the dome above. There were no windows or doors that I could see, the sole sources of light being the dozen or so small bulbs circling the walls at a height roughly equivalent to the length of two men.\n\nA small cot of a dirty white colour lay beneath my feet, which I noted were without shoes. My other clothes were still on my body, thankfully. I looked around. Besides my cot was another of similar type, and past that another, then another, all the way around the length of the wall. On each cot was a man, woman, or child, in various states of youth and decay, all peering around in similar bleary confusion and shrinking back from one another in swiftly paralleled terror.\n\nThere was a loud, long screeching, as from a faulty intercom, and the room grew silent. A voice spoke.\n\n\"One of you is not who they seem, they are responsible for you being here. Find them, and you're free.\" The Voice was of another world - ethereal, alien, drawn from somewhere in the void between what is and what is not. The sound of it halted the blood in my veins, made my hair recede into the depths of my skull and my teeth rearrange themselves in my mouth.\n\nIn the silence that followed, my mind suddenly clicked. I remembered how I had gotten here, what had happened before I had awoke from my dreamless sleep.\n\n\"I am responsible for this, for all of this,\" I said, trying to keep my voice from quavering.\n\nThere was a pause.\n\n\"Great!\" the Voice said finally. \"Well, that solves that, thanks for stopping by.\"\n\n\"No problem,\" I said as one end of the dome began to rise, revealing the noonday sun. \n\nOur shoes were waiting outside." ]	1
	[WP] The only god is Death but the demons Disease, Tragedy, Disaster, War, Violence, and Distortion give it a run for their money.	[ "It had been a quiet day down here in the Underworld. And that was something that seldomly happend for me. Usually the kids were always trying to outshine me, with their different abilities.\nThe jokes were on them, cause in the end, Death would always win. It was something I had learned along time ago.\nI think I figured it out when Disease summoned the famous Black Plague, as he so called it. He was a strange demon, always making up some illness with a fancy name. Then to release it onto the human world, and laugh in my face. \n\"Look Death, look! See how many are dying right now due to the Black Plague! Not even you can do that\"\nHe was easily amazed by it all, and I gave him a small nod. He could not have smiled more that day. \nI spent the following years reaping the dead, all whom had died to the Plague, but it was all my earnings. They had all died, and I was the God of Death. My duty was to see that they died, and then take them here, to the Underworld.\n\"Why do you always do this Death? They were mine to kill, not yours!\" Disease was furious, not a sign of the smile I had seen before.\n\"My sweet, innocent Demon, you simply do not understand, do you?\"\n\"What do I not understand, Death? They were mine, not yours! All of them were mine, you just sat there and did nothing! I created this plague, so they were all mine! Yet you took them all away from me!\"\nI just sat myself down into my chair, the other Demons popped into the room.\n\"Disease, you created something only Death can follow afterwards. All of those humans prayed for Death to take them, not Disease! All you will ever do, is make my life easier. That is why you are my child, my innocent Demon. I created you to help me!\"\nDisease was shocked, for he also realised the truth in it. The others ran from the room, they knew what happened after I raised my voice like that.\nThat was time I realized that no matter what they did, I would always win. No matter what they could come up with, I won. Always.\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Your mother died, but her soul remained. She possessed your refrigerator and today she speaks up about your bad eating habits	[ "As I opened the fridge in the night,I heard the voice.\"This has to stop.\"\n\n\"Who is that!?\" I heard a laugh.\"Who else would I be?I am obviously your Mom.\"\n\n\"Wait, what?\"\n\n\"I possessed the fridge,you idiot!\"\n\n\"So what brings you here,mum?\"\n\n\"I have a complaint.All you seem to do is eat.In the morning you'd open me at 6 for a snack and half and hour later you open me again for breakfast.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"Every hour it seems like you come back for a snack or a meal.I've even seen you sleepwalk to the fridge and make a PB&J and go back to your bed!\"\n\n\"That explain the Peanut Butter smell my room has!\"\n\n\"I am tired of this. I CAN NOT get any sleep because of your dumb eating habits!Now go back to bed,as it' only 3 AM,and think about this or you'll be grounded.You DO know I can do karate even as a fridge?\"\n\nI cried in my bed for the next 3 hours after that.", "Mother always told me that unhealthy eating would be the death of me but, since the 6 years since Mother's passing I have indulged to gluttonous proportions. Mother was always overbearing \"don't do this, don't do that\" and her favourite \"sugar will be your undoing.\" It was such a joyous occasion with her passing I felt naughty eating sugar. Oh how I love sugar. As I traveled to my refrigerator Mother's word reverberated through my mind \"you filthy little piggy and your sugar.\" At least I thought they were in my mind but, as I opened the refrigerator door I heard the undeniable shrill of Mother's voice \"fat little piggy back for more sugar!\" I slammed the door shut and slowly backed away just to continue to hear Mother's shrill voice. This went on for several weeks of avoiding my possessed refrigerator succumbing to my ravenous hunger. Finally forgoing my fear of Mother's voice I swing open the door and drowned myself in sugary bliss. As I was overcome with joy of my sugar feast the door to my apartment burst open with shouts of warrants only to find me in such a naughty position. All I heard after everything fell quiet as they saw me in a most compromising position was Mother's voice \"sugar will be the death of a fat little piggy.\" Of course Mother was right Mother is always right.\n\n\"Today on the 6 o'clock news a man was found bathed in a see of body parts and blood. Police are saying he was screaming the his Mother was possessing his refrigerator and taunting him from beyond the grave. More on this story in just a few minute.\"", "My mother throughout adolescence made wonderful meals for dad and I. We never had much but what we did have were wobbly chairs, a table missing half a leg, and a banquet presented every evening. I left home at eighteen off to college. I got a call at 22 years old I received a call from my father in tears telling me to come home. I packed my bags and rice home. I knocked on the front door and the door creaked open to only see an urn and a note from dad telling me to take the urn of mom's ashes and leave him be as he was at the bar drinking himself into a stupor. I told myself I would give him his time but I would need to know what happened to her. I went back to my room and dropped the urn on the communal table in the den. I went to sleep.\n\nI awoke to the smell of weed again... My roommate as always smoking first thing. I walked into the den... My mother was missing! I grabbed Adam by the back of the shirt and asked where my mother was. He looked at me and laughed... My mother... My wonderful mother... Was made into an ashtray for his weed... I grabbed her and took her to my room. I woke up at midnight hearing a domineering voice. Anthony...\nAnthony... \n\nI walked to the kitchen\nANTHONY!\n\nIt was my mother's voice. I began to cry and she said dry your tears Anthony. I'm here you only got one reason to cry, \"You're a disrespectful little shit! You only eat ... RAMEN ... and drinking ORANGE CONCENTRATE\" I got tired of it so I took mom to a scrap yard and gave my roommate his ashtray back.", "“This really has to stop you know,” came a voice from, as far as I could tell, quite literally no where. \n\nI had always thought if I had been in a situation where a voice had appeared from quite literally no where I would be the sort of person to stand steadfast and confront things head on. I wouldn't be the chicken from the horror film who goes screaming from the room when things got a little bit spooky. As it turned out, hearing an omnipresent voice when you were arms deep in your fridge grabbing a slice of leftover pizza was actually pretty scary. I went screaming from the room, things had gotten a little bit spooky. \n\n“You get back here young man!” The voice, which was now clearly coming from the far end of the kitchen, yelled out. “We need to have a serious talk about your eating habits.”\n\nI poked my head back into the kitchen. There was no one there. I was going crazy. That was the only logical explanation. Maybe Andre had given me a dodgy batch of puff, maybe I hadn’t gotten enough sleep, or maybe I had just finally gone over the deep end. \n\n“I told you to get back over here,” the voice chimed out again. It was coming from the fridge. There was no doubt about it. My fridge was talking to me. Honest to god, my fridge was talking to me. “Don’t make me ask again mister, I could very easily turn off and spoil that pizza you know. Not that you even need it!”\n\n“This… isn’t happening,” I muttered, letting myself drift back into the room. “My fridge cannot be talking to me right now.” \n\nThe fridge started talking again, but I tuned it out. It was talking nonsense about caloric intakes and balanced meals. I stooped down to the plug socket the fridge was jacked into, and pulled it straight out. The fridge spluttered for a moment and then stopped talking. I let out a sigh of relief, maybe if I just kept the fridge unplugged until whatever drug was in my system had worn off. The fridge spluttered again, its lights came back on, this must have been a hell of a powerful bag. \n\n“How dare you turn off my power!” The fridge gasped indignantly, “After all those years I brought you up, and now you just go and do a thing like that.” It sounded like the fridge was crying. \n\n“Look,” I said… to my fridge, “I am going to go outside, vape, and hope that whatever drug I am on wears off. When I come back in you better be… like… a normal fridge again or something.”\n\n“Wait… Harvey, don’t go!” The fridge cried out, I could hear desperation in its voice. “I’m your Mom!”\n\nMy hand froze on the handle of the door. My Mom? Now I knew I was going crazy. My Mom had died in an accident three years ago. She had been driving along the highway when a delivery truck had skidded over to her side of the road. According to the paramedics she had died at the scene of the crash, most likely instantly. They said a refrigerator had leapt out of the truck and smashed through her windshield… \n\n“This has got to be some crazy ass trip,” I muttered.\n\n“You aren’t high Harvey! You haven’t even smoked since last night, plenty of time for the high to wear off and you know it,” the fridge, supposedly my Mom, rebuked. “Now get back in here, sit down at the table, and let's talk about your eating habits.” \n\n“This is insane,” I said, even as I relented and did as my fridge-mom asked. “Talking to my goddamn fridge who says it’s my Mom.” \n\n“Now listen here Harvey, don’t you talk about God like that in this kitchen,” my fridge-mom chastised. “Or me for that matter.” \n\nMy eyes widened in disbelief. My Mom had always been religious. She had never wanted me cursing God’s name or using it in a derogatory manner. Whenever I did she got so pissed off, and even though the fridge sounded like some sort of monotone mobile AI, there was that attitude in there that I couldn’t mistake. Tears started to track down my cheeks. I thought I had lost her, it had been so long, but my Mom had been there all along. \n\n“Mom…” I whimpered, getting up from the chair and awkwardly embracing the home appliance. \n\n“Yes, yes I know it’s emotional. Now, you have been eating far too much pizza young man…” \n\nxXx\n\n\n\"Joe, could you perhaps tell me why Harvey is hugging the fridge right now?\" Sam asked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. \n\nJoe poked his head into the doorway and popped one of his chips into his mouth. \"Spiked his coffee with LSD,\" he said, shrugged, and then wandered into the living room to catch the last minutes of the game. \n\n\"Heh, classic,\" Sam snorted and shook his head before following after Joe.\n\n-------\n\nEnjoy this short writing prompt response? I have just started posting on my subreddit again! Head over to the link below to get updates on my novel “Indomitable” and links to all of the writing prompt responses I make! \n\nhttps://www.reddit.com/r/MattsWrittenWord/\n\nEdit: Changed the ending." ]	4
	[WP] Ever since history was first recorded people have been counting down the years. From 13789 down to 1. Tomorrow is new year's eve, year 0, and everybody is waiting to see what they have been counting down to.	[ "For thirteen thousand years, we waited.\n\nThirteen thousand years of war, of peace, of famine, of wealth. As each year passed, the expectations mounted. Would we all die, simultaneously in glorious fashion? Would we ascend and become beings of ethereal? Or would we reset: back to the year 13789, the beginning, forced once again to turn dirt to stone, stone to iron, iron to gold. Whatever awaited us at the year zero, whatever it may hold, it must have been something. It just had to be.\n\nAnd so, on December 31st of the last year, humanity filled the streets. All thirteen billion of us stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the inevitable countdown timers placed all over the world, and we waited. Some people took these last few moments to say goodbye to those around them, despite many being strangers to one another. Some people took advantage of the situation, looting stores and breaking into homes, fulfilling their darkest desires. It was rare they find anyone within these places, however, as the mystery of year 0 had enthralled everyone. Humans always had a tendency to go down fighting, and this was no exception.\n\nThe clocks were ticking. When the timers hit 5 hours, a cacophony of speech slowly erupted, as everyone began to share their own theories as to what was waiting for them on the other side. When they struck 3, we began to look to the sky, naivety filling our thoughts as we looked for answers in the stars. When they struck 2, the anxiety could be felt in our collective breathing, and quickly the rioting began. When they struck 1, the crowd of animals could be heard frantically crying, and we were quite frankly losing our minds. Minute by minute, the chaos surged, people growing increasingly terrified of what could very well be the end.\n\nSuddenly, as the timers struck the one minute mark, the crowd silenced. A now singular humanity waited patiently and anxiously, our breaths bated. We were a mere sixty seconds away from our final destination, and after thirteen thousands years, humanity had never seemed so... human. In these final moments, we were all one, and each of our sixty-five billion fingers were interlocked. It dared not speak, but it listened: tick, tock, tick, tock. 45 seconds. 30 seconds. Only 15 seconds left. 10.\n\n5.\n\n4.\n\n3.\n\n2.\n\n1.\n\nAnd then... nothing. Nothing not as in the absence of everything, but nothing as in the absence of anything. We looked left and right, up to the sky, and down to the ground beneath our feet. Nothing had changed. And yet, even though the world we know so well was very much in tact, something felt different, and that's because something was. In what we believed to be our final moments, we were connected to one another. Humanity was more human than it had ever been. In nearly an instant we had become one, singular being. We threw away our differences, threw away our prejudices, and threw away our hate. We were united.\n\nAnd united we stood.", "######[](/dropcap)\n\nDecember 31st, Year 1. 11:55 PM.\n\nA couple billion people sat in their basements, huddling each other for comfort. Another few billion celebrated the end of one year and start of the next, partying harder than they thought imaginable. If the world was going to end, at least they would black out before the Four Horsemen arrived. Or, if it was just the start of a new era, they would begin at their all time low with massive hangovers. \"There's nowhere but up for me this era!\" On the other hand, several hundreds of millions were skeptics, denying that Year 0 would be anything but another year. The only question on their minds was, \"Will the following year be denoted Year -1?\" Perhaps humanity will decide to count back up. \"Year 1b.\"\n\nThe interior of a local seafood restaurant in Alaska was packed like sardines. Its kitchen was also packed with actual sardines, but the sardines themselves were packed more like people than sardines. The coastal eatery—flooded with terrified children, joyous drunks, repenting believers, and some calm Year 0 deniers happily dunking fish sticks into tartar sauce—had been preparing for tonight all year. If the world does not in 5 minutes at 12:00 AM, Year 0, then they will easily make up for an otherwise lackluster year of business.\n\n\"4 minutes 'til the world ends, folks!\" a 32 year old bald man says, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his red and black checkered flannel sweater. Nate, a Year 0 denier, smiles from ear to ear. \"That's right, just 240 seconds left until a month before the Super Bowl.\"\n\nA woman, late forties and short bleached hair, turns to Nate with an annoyed \"Guhh!\" and holds back a tiny smile. \"Something big is going to happen and you know it. How can you believe that there's nothing significant about a 13,000 year old countdown?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Nate says as he continues to pop fried shrimp into his mouth. \"Some doofus over 13,000 years ago decided that we should number the years by counting down, instead of up. He probably picked 13,789 because he thought, 'Yeah, that's a big enough number. Human civilization can't last that long.' To be frank, I'm astounded that we've lasted for this long. Just 90 years ago, the whole world aimed nuclear weapons at each other because a North Korean leader had a mile case food poisoning.\"\n\nThe woman could not help but let out a chuckle, although her stance remained unchanged. \"Every single civilization across the whole world has been counting the years the same way, all starting exactly 13,789 years ago.\" She thumped her forefinger on Nate's table when she emphasized her words.\n\n\"Meh. Hundreth Monkey Effect,\" said Nate.\n\n11:59 PM.\n\nThe overcrowded restaurant became dead silent, bar the few terrified whimpers of children. Everyone's thoughts fixated solely upon two questions:\n\n\"What is going to happen in one minute, on January 1st, Year 0?\"\n\nand,\n\n\"Should we start counting down now? 10 seconds feels too late to start to this final countdown. How about at 30 seconds?\"\n\nExactly 30 seconds passed. One third of the restaurant chanted, \"Thirty! Twenty-nine! Twenty-eight!\" Some of them stopped chanting, realizing that they had started too early.\n\nNate waved at the waitstaff through the crowd. \"Can I get another order of clams? I'm planning on staying here for a while.\"\n\nTwenty seconds. Several voices decided that now was a good time to start counting down. \"Twenty! Nineteen! Eighteen!\" By the fifteenth second, everyone had joined in on the countdown all across the globe (it had been concluded that Indian Standard Time would be the time zone to use, since there are so darn many people there).\n\n\"Ten! Nine! Eight!\" Nate chugged his strawberry lemonade, his favorite beverage as a kid and still his favorite beverage as a grown man.\n\n\"Seven! Six! Five!\" Several people screamed at the top of their lungs—many of who should smoke more cigarettes to deepen their voice's pitch. It's the considerate thing to do when you enjoy screaming next to strangers.\n\n\"Four! Three! Two!\" Panicked I love yous in a variety of languages. Hugs, shaking, fainting, and more screaming.\n\n\"One!\"\n\nNate stood atop his chair and said, \"Happy New Year!\" His voice traveled just a few feet before being drowned by the relentless screams.\n\nBuzz.\n\nNate felt it. The bleached-haired woman felt it. A man in the kitchen munching on sardines felt it. Every person on the planet felt it: a violent buzzing rattled the insides of everyone's skulls, as though their brains received a text message at the silent climax of a film in a theater. The buzzing wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable and horrifying nonetheless.\n\n\"Dear Humanity,\" a voice announced to the inside of their heads. It spoke in every person's native tongue.\n\n\"Your trial for Acme Solutions: Advanced Intelligence © has expired. We hope that you've enjoyed our product and consider purchasing a full license from us soon.\" The buzzing stopped shortly after the voice cut out.\n\nFebruary 1st, Year 0\n\nCities became jungles. Offices turned into wild habitats. Just one month into Year 0 and billions of people lay dead on the streets. With no person smart enough to treat disease, operate heavy machinery, or prepare clean food and water, humanity's decline into primeval status came with fury. No Super Bowl occurred today.\n\nThe oceans rose significantly. Great structures—indeed the start of many empires—formed beneath the waters. They were not built by humans, however, but by a tightly-packing, salty-tasting fish.\n\nThe sardines now owned the world—and the only copy of an Acme Solutions: Advanced Intelligence © license." ]	2
	[Wp] An adventure with the classic fantasy species, that takes place during or after the industrial revolution	[ "The London fog, as it was known snaked around his ankles, He had a lot on his mind. He had gotten terrible news from delivered by one of 'them'. For the life of him he could not understand why his sister would have sent one of them, the filthy little muckrakers.\n\n\nThe dirty little hairy footed halflings. She hated them. Why did she send that one, of all of them. Reaching the Borough Market, He waded through the filth of the common people. He hiked up his jacket to avoid the dirt and grime. Tucked his hat a bit lower in a vain effort to hide what he was. Despite his attempt he knew that he would be recognized as one of the Elfin people.\n\n \nThe quality of his clothes, had marked him out as he crossed London Bridge. He was no stranger to a few of the stall owners though, the higher quality ones had already sent a guard or two to watch after him, as arranged. He had to forgo his personal guard though, they would detest, and probably shoot the one he was supposed to meet on sight.\n\nCrossing the alley to where he finally saw what he was told to look for, the sign of three ears. He hesitated a second because there was a fourth ear nailed to the bottom of the sign. One he knew, the triangle tattoo on the lobe was of his family, he had played with that humans ear for the twenty-nine years of his childhood. Before he met his first tutors, before he had even met his father and true mother. The owner of that ear had raised him. It was his wet nurse, and his sisters after his.\n\nBracing himself and reaching for his pistol with one hand. Grasping his fathers dagger with the hand pushing the door open.\n\n\n\n\"What fresh hell has she gotten into now.\" He mutters as the door opens...\n\n(out of story this is as far as I can get tonight... if you like, reply and I will continue)", "Lysander watched in horror as the sky lit up bright red and orange. Even the clouds held the strange hues of the now glowing sky. The cascade of red-orange was only broken up by what, at first, appeared to be black dots. \n\nLike an ebon rain, the dots began falling to the earth below. As he stood watching his elf eyes began to focus on the forms falling all around the horizon. That’s when he saw it, a glint. The light from the sky hit one of the black balls enough to where Lysander could finally see the ball was covered in metallic scales. Soon the shapes of wings and a tail formed and it became clear that the lifeless bodies of dragons were the things raining down on the earth.\n \nWhen they began to collide with the countryside there was no mistaking the loud thuds. A mix of bone, scale, and flesh shook the earth beneath Lysander’s feet. From the hillside, he could see the once extraordinary creatures that ruled the island and the lands beyond the sea were coming crashing down. \n\nAs soon as the sky had changed it was now returning to its original blue. There was no trace of the red-orange tones that were once there. The clouds were back to white and the bodies had ceased to fall. It was as if nothing had happened. \n\nLysander raced to the closest impact of the dragons that he had seen. A mile, maybe two, away was where the large beast had come crashing down in the middle of the forest. Lysander’s mind raced as he tried to make sense of the horrific events he had been witness to. \n\nThe voices and whispers that had been so common before were now silent. The trees weren’t talking. There were no gnomes, nymphs, or dryads singing songs. He kept running. No single creature, no magic power could have annihilated one dragon, let alone all of them at once. They were the rulers of sky and land. \n\nLysander stopped running in an instant. The body of the majestic creature had made a sizeable crater in the middle of the forest. The trees had been flattened and the grass and plants uprooted. But the most worrying part was where the dragon’s body lay. The great wings that once carried the beast through the sky effortlessly were no more. Even the shape of its head could not be found, instead, a black mass laid amongst the rock and remnants of the once serene forest. \n\nLysander walked hesitantly toward what once was a mighty creature. No heat emanated from the body. It was cool to the touch. The body of the dragon had been broken up into rocks that could fit in Lysander’s palms. They were pitch black and left a dark residue that made Lysander feel uneasy.\n\n“So, you’ve found it,” said a cold voice from behind Lysander. Standing behind him was the old wizard that Lysander had come to hate.\n\n“What have you done?” Lysander could barely get the words out. \n\n“It’s a new age, Lysander. One where magic is no longer needed. So, I destroyed it. All of it.”\n\n“But…how? You’re a wizard. Magic is your weapon!”\n\n“Fool. Magic is a weapon. But there are others. A new age is dawning and I will be on top of it. And you, Lysander, you will not see tomorrow,” the wizard smirked. His beard was trimmed far more than the last time Lysander had seen him. \n\n“This isn’t over…”\n\n“Ahhh, Lysander but it is. The dragons were first, but not the last victims of the final spell. You must have heard the quiet while running here. No nymphs or fairies spreading their unending songs and laughter,” again the wizard smirked. “And, what pray tell are elves little Lysander?” \n\nAt this Lysander realized he could no longer move his legs. They were literally rooted to the ground beneath him. His arms were becoming increasingly hard to move, even his mind was going blank. \n\n“See, Lysander? It’s over. It’s the dawn of a new age. Magic is out and soon the mechanized world will be here and you and all of your ilk will be but a long-forgotten myth,” the wizard smiled. “I will probably need a new name though. I can’t be going by some old wizard’s name, now can I?”\n\nLysander could no longer speak. His arms were stuck raised above his head and he realized now that he was becoming a tree. Words were becoming increasingly hard to focus on. He just felt anger. It must have shown on his face because the wizard laughed. \n\n“What about…Dragon?” mused the wizard. “Yes, Dragon will do. Though the irony will be lost on most. Not you and I though. We’ll get it. I will be a leader in this new age just you wait Lysander. Maybe even work myself up to King. King Dragon. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”\n\nLysander could no longer think or even see. The world around him grew dark and he could only feel the breeze blow through his outstretched arms above his head. \n\n“So, the revolution begins. Better start digging, eh Lysander?” and with that, the wizard went off towards to the town to rally a few men to start collecting the remnants of the dragon’s body. He’ll call it coal. \n" ]	2
	[WP] Your unassuming mentor is hiding a damning secret and you're determined to find out what it is	[ "I pinched my eyes shut, beads of sweat rolling down my temple as I tried to mentally string the reagents in the right order. \n\nI thrust my palm downward, fingers arched into a claw. I felt a spark from my consciousness leave my body, free of its corporeal form. The spark moved as I willed it, and although I could not exactly see what it did, I could get a sense of its surroundings and any sources energy around. Boy, scrying was a lot more difficult than the Seers made it look. \n\nThe tough part of my spell complete, I took a seat, making sure to keep my eyes closed. Vision from the eye can get very distracting for apprentices. I led the spark up a flight of stairs to my goal: The Master’s Chambers. As it approached, I felt myself tense. There was power here. Of course there would be, you idiot. Back in my body, I could feel a prickle of anticipation, I was about to find my Master’s secret to success.\n\nIt had taken months of planning. I was a member of the Journalist’s Guild, and we had been looking at Maximilian Geiaf for quite awhile now. Grand Magus, Alchemy Extraodinaire and Master Elementalist in both Fire and Water. All at the ripe young age of 30. Some even rumoured that he dabbled in Shamanism on the side. While many have celebrated the accomplishment as the greatest magical feat since Rubick, the Journalists Guild remained skeptical. No one could achieve such control of power within such a short span of time. Not legally anyway. \n\nBefore this, apprentices were predominantly male, with the exceptions being daughters of these masters, or women who were able to seduce mages into teaching them. Thus a campaign had been staged. A women’s rights campaign instigated by the guild to bring gender equality to apprentices. And as someone who was in the spotlight of the media, naturally Geiaf had no choice but to succumb to the public and accept a female apprentice. With a little bit of clever blackmail and bribery, the guild managed to successfully send me, Franscesca Kylian, to study under the illustrious Mr. Magehunt. At least that was what the tabloids are calling him anyway. \n\nI had begun my first month learning about reagents, a modern method of mastering magic. Bonded together in the right sequence, magicians could gain access to much more varieties of spells as compared to memorising complex scrolls ad verbatim for just one spell. While the reagents certainly made spellcasting much simpler, they certainly weren't exactly a walk in the park. Plenty of memory work was still required, and simple mistakes in the chains can lead to very erroneous results. \n\nTurns out, Master Geiaf was extremely nice and forthcoming with his teachings. While I was pleasantly surprised that he had not been the mysoginist I had imagined him to be, and that he was actually a really nice person to be around, the fact of the matter is that I still had a mission to do. But that did not make me any less guilty. \n\nI willed the spark to press on, albeit gingerly. I felt the vibrations of footsteps, but nothing too immediate that demanded attention, so I inched a little bit further. There! Magic. I was close. Following the source of power, I sent my spark forward, up until I could almost make out the shape of the magic energy in my mind. The curls of power was bent in the familiar shape of a harp and cross. The rune looked familiar, I had remember seeing it in a textb-fuck. \n\nWards. \n\n“Arghh.” I hugged my head in my hands as a sharp pain lanced through my mind. The pain was short lasting, but the result was clear. My spell had been thwarted. \n\n“It is interesting,” said a smooth voice behind me. “That every apprentice’s first use of the scry spell is to peek into my chambers.” \n\nI looked up to see Master Geiaf in his velvet bathrobe, a tall leggy redhead by his side. I envied the woman’s height, but I did not envy the terrible dye job she had. There were many things about myself that I would absolutely love to change, but being a natural red was not one of them. We were a dying breed.\n\nHe held the castle doors open for her. \n\n“It was a pleasure my dear. Until next time.” he said, shutting the door behind her. \n\n“Good morning Franscesca.” he said, joining me at the table. “Tea?”\n\nA teapot as well as an assortment of breakfast food had appeared on the previously empty table. It was my fifth month here and this still amazed me every time. \n\n“Orange juice please.” I said, grabbing a crossaint from the middle. Magic pastries taste delicious, it was a wonder as to why bakeries even existed. \n\n“Well, you know the spell to that one now.” he said, stirring his third sugar into the earl grey. I must have hesistated, because he said, “It's pretty simple! You can do it!”\n\nAlright. My mind fed me the first few strings easily, a tall glass materialising in front of me. Geiaf smiled encouragingly at me from across the table. Okay. Orange Juice. My mind retrieved the reagents for juice. Now the flavour. There. My glass filled up with orange. Beaming proudly at my handiwork, I took a sip. \n\nIt was passionfruit.\n\nMaster Geiaf had not noticed, so I was allowed to wallow alone in self-embarrassment. \n\n“Alright Fransesca, today’s lesson will be about wards.” said Geiaf, rising from the table. “But I would prefer if you didn't use this knowledge to go messing with mine. I have taken extra precautions regardless, so unless you wish another mini migraine upon yourself, please refrain.”\n\nI didn't know what to say, so I just smiled sheepishly. \n\nGeiaf went on to talk about the difference between offensive and defensive wards for the next hour before excusing himself upstairs. I had been given two scrolls to read and a few basic wards designs to study. That should take me at least half a day. \n\n“Oh and don't forget to clean up after yourself.” he called from the stairs. “And do let the gardener in later - roses are a mess.”\n\n“Yes Master.”\n\n***\n/r/lysanderxonora \n\nPart 2: https://www.reddit.com/r/LysanderXonora/comments/763vjc/wp_your_mentor_is_hiding_a_damning_secret_and_you/" ]	1
	[WP] It is Friday, October the 13th and you are on flight 666 going straight to HEL.	[ "He checked his phone- Friday, October the 13th. The spookiest day of them all! Harold Wolgast chuckled to himself. Superstitions were always silly- unrelated coincidences that put unrealistic thoughts into someone a hundred years ago and have somehow persisted in some people's minds into the modern era. The era of science, of reason, and of logic. \n\n\"Good morning, everyone, this is your captain speaking.\" The intercom crackled to life, a masculine voice filling the cabin. \n\n\"You have boarded flight 666B, the weather is clear, and we should take off in a matter of minutes. Thank you for choosing Fullmoon Airlines.\"\n\nHarold looked, surprised, at the intercom as if to deduce a lie from it's nonexistant facial expressions.\n\nFlight 666? Okay, again, just to clarify, Harold was not superstitious. But there are a lot of people who thought those numbers were the mark of the beast. Also, was this airline really called Fullmoon? He hadn't remembered that.\n\nThe faceless intercom once again was the mouthpiece for delivering further new. \"Conditions are optimal for a trip straight to H-E-L, Helenvale, Australia. Again, that's a one way ticket straight to Hel-\" the intercom suddenly ticked off.\n\nA one way ticket straight to...what? Harold shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He glanced around, and the young woman seated next to him was already asleep. He craned his neck above the seat infront of him and pivoted. No one was concerned. A baby napped on a mother's shoulder, an older gentlemen was flipping through a book. \n\nA little girl was playing with a mirror, raising it high above her head and shaking it around.\n\n\"Honey, where did you get that? Why did you open our bags?\" The girl's father reached out to confiscate the make-up mirror. The girl shouted her disagreement and dropped the mirror.\n\n\"Abigail!\" The father shouted in disbelief. Harold startled, and once again looked around. No one seemed concerned. The sleeping woman didn't even stir. \n\nHarold's eyes once again drew to the scene in front of him. \n\n\"Abigail, you broke it.\" The father said, disappointed. He lifted it up, and the broken mirror, fragmented, perfectly reflected Harold's face.\n\nHarold made a strange noise and ducked into his seat for some reason. He glanced nervously out of his window and shouted, as a raven, black as midnight, had landed on the wing on the other side of the glass. It stared directly at him for a moment, and then fluttered away.\n\nRegaining his composure, once again he found that not one person was even looking at him, and the young woman was sleeping quietly.\n\nA few rows ahead, someone opened up an umbrella, before closing it, laughing their apology.\n\nA steward begain walking the isle, offering snacks. When she reached Harold's row, her hand clipped an out of place salt shaker an the course particles spilled everywhere. She quickly cleaned the mess up and moved on.\n\nMeanwhile, Harold's head slowly turned from these sights and he shrunk, white faced, into himself.\n\nEverything was fine. Everything was fine. Everything was fine.\n\nHe pressed his face against the window as if it offered him an escape from this torture airplane. His eyes scanned the concrete plain, the maze of runways, and reached the front of the plane. What was that?\n\nA small black shape had just finished crossing in front of the plane. He squinted, and lo and behold, a black cat had just crossed the planes- and by extention- Harold's path.\n\nHarold screamed, throwing his arms into the air. The sleeping woman's eyes flashed open in terror and he pushed past her and sprinted down the isle. A steward ducked out of the mad man's path. \n\nThrowing the door open, before him stood the Grim Reaper. Swishing his scythe in the air, a bony finger extended toward Harold's face.\n\nHarold slammed the door, still screaming, and turned around.\n\nThe steward looked at him blankly for a few moments. Then, blood began pouring from her mouth as she made curses upon him in languages Harold did not recognize. Harold screamed as a ghostly force jettissoned him out the door. Falling many feet, he landed with a thud onto the cold concrete. His vision blackened, and he awoke to see a hoard of people shambling towards him. Zombies!\n\nHarold struggled to his feet and sprinted in the opposite direction. A group of friends, laughing and giggling to themselves, were casually walking on the runway. They walked away from Harold, oblivious to his plight. He quickly caught up with them, and pleaded for help or acknowledgement.\n\n\"We have to get out of here! It's the end of the fucking world!\" They did not listen. They kept walking and chuckling.\n\n\"Fine!\" He turned to go past, but suddenly, there were people in front of him. He kept running horizontally, but somehow a one deep row of people were always in his way.\n\nThis group was taking up the whole runway! Are you serious!? Just walk faster, for Christ sake!\n\nHe pushed past, ignoring the chastisement of the strange people. The earbuds that he didn't realize he had in his ears fell out, landing directly back into his pocket.\n\n\"What?\" He said aloud. He unconsciously pulled the bud back out, only to see it was- tangled!\n\n\"No!\" He shouted, throwing it into the distance. He kept running, running, running. His foot slammed into the leg of a wooden coffee table, stubbing his pinky toe of his now bare foot.\n\n\"Ow- what the fuck-!?\" He stumbled in pain, kicking over a pot of perfectly cooked chile.\n\n\"What the fuck, dude?\" A man stared at Harold in disbelief.\n\n\"I'm so sorry!\" Harold apologized profusely.\n\n\"You ruined my vegan chile!\" The man shouted, revealing his horrible truth, before immediately launching into a tirade about why eating meat was evil!\n\n\"NOOOOO!\" Harold yelled in denial, jerking forward from his slumber. The woman in the seat next to him looked at him confused.\n\n\"Are you okay?\" She said.\n\nHarold wiped the sweat from his forehead.\n\n\"Y-yes. Yes, I am. Thank you.\"\n\nShe smiled. \"Bad dream?\"\n\nHarold laughed. \"Yes, I suppose so.\"\n\nHe looked absent mindedly out the window, relieved that his nightmare was over, and finding that the plane had already taken off. He was flying over a sea of clouds.\n\nHe and the woman got to talking and he discovered her name was Kelly. They had a pleasant conversation, before she brought up her commute to work, and then she asked what he did for a living.\n\n\"Oh- I'm a cameraman for a local televison studio. I have relatives in Australia I'm going to visit. What do you do?\"\n\n\"I fly planes!\" She laughed, and Harold joined in.\n\n\"Is it weird to ride in a plane when you usually are the one driving them?\"\n\n\"No, not really. I don't ride in any planes I'm not driving.\"\n\nHarold raised an eyebrow, still smiling. \"Oh, so, what, you drive this plane, too.\"\n\nKelly looked at him. \"Why, yes, of course. I'm the captain of this plane.\" She said, deadpan.\n\n\"What?\" Harold said, as the plane made impact with the surface of the ocean.\n\nHarold jerked from his slumber, eyes wide, heart racing.\n\n\"Fuck this,\" he said aloud, exasperated.\n\n\"When is this shit going to end?\" He placed his face in the palms of his hands.\n\nLucky for him, he didn't 'wake up' again and the flight went pleasantly and without disruption. He would quickly forget about this dreadful experience and have a relaxing time in Australia.\n", "Karl was always a suspicious and superstitious man. He killed every black cat he saw, knocked over every ladder, burnt umbrellas, and melted mirrors. He was also on and off medication, as people thought he was killing all their cats, and sent him to rehab more often than not. One day, his daughter called him. She lived in Helsinki and she had a fatal tumor. Karl packed his things and headed to the airport. When he got there, he couldn't help but notice that the name of the flight was: Friday, October 13. Flight 666 from Miami to Helsinki. He realized this was an incredibly bad omen, one that could ruin his luck forever. But his daughter was dying, so he pulled himself together and boarded the plane. The usual takeoff routine happened, and someone didn't secure their luggage. They had a black cat inside, and it ran straight to Karl. Karl turned white, for he couldn't strangle a cat where everyone could see him. He gazed out the window and began to pray. The captain said over the loud speaker, \"This is your captain speaking. We will be making a slight detour through the Bermuda Triangle to avoid a Navy training exercise. Please fasten your seat belts.\" Karl began hyperventilating. This was the worst thing to happen to him since he lost his rabbit's foot. He couldn't stand it anymore. He stood up abruptly, cat sliding off, and locked himself in the bathroom for the next hour. The captain has not spoken in a while, so Karl went into the cockpit. The only living thing in it was the cat. Karl stared out the windshield, and saw a portal open to hell. Karl screamed as the plane disintegrated behind him, and saw a giant, bloodred hand reach out to him. His last thought was, \"Wait a second. I don't have a daughter.\"" ]	2
	[WP] Do not fear the voices	[ "They whisper to me, every night they whisper.\n\nWhen it started all those nights ago I was scared, but they helped me and sometimes I wonder if they helped me too much \n\nThey only really speak in comprehensible voices when I'm scared or upset.\n\nThe night they first spoke was when I was angry.\n\nMy colleague had ratted me out for something I hadn't done and lost me my job.\n\nWe had always hated each other, but we had never gone this far before and I wanted revenge.\n\nThat was the first time I heard them clearly, that night when I was angry and alone was when they gave me the instructions.\n\nWhat they told me to do was something I had never before imagined but they made it sound so good and I didn't resist.\n\nThat was the night I killed for the first time, and it wouldn't be the last.\n\nI had never known how good it would feel to do such a horrible thing and the whispers helped me.\n\nSo if you hear them lying in bed tonight, don't ignore them like I did because they will help you.\n\nAll I have to say to you is...\n\nDo not fear the whispers.\n\n_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________\n\nThis is my first horror story here on r/writingprompts, constructive criticism is welcome." ]	1
	[WP] You're a caver and you've recently discovered a new underground cave. You decide to explore the cave alone.	[ "I clicked on my headlamp and dropped into the darkness below. \nThe drop was a narrow shoot, big enough for me to fit, if not comfortably, then at least I had breathing room. The rope that kept me from free falling was tied very sturdily to a tree just above the crevasse. My pack was tied to a clever contraption that kept it from moving unless I pulled it, and dangled from the rope above me. \nThe light above me was already faded to basically nothing. My headlamp showed only the rock a few inches from my face as it went by. It was limestone, and damp, probably from the rain this morning. \nSuddenly, the walls fell away, and the cave blossomed into a massive room. My headlamp beam faded into the dark. I pulled out a laser pointer from my pocket and turned off the headlamp, plunging into blackness. \nThe laser's beam reflected off a million pieces of dust, and faded into the blackness as well. I swept it around in a circle and it hit several columns, but nothing resembling a wall. I pointed it down, and it reflected off the floor. \nI turned back on my headlamp and kept lowering myself. As I got closer to the floor, I saw that it wasn't rock- it was water. A massive underground lake, and the bottom was far out of sight. \nThere was a broken column nearby, so I swung over and touched down on it, maybe seven or eight feet above the surface of the lake. \nI unclipped my harness from the rope- a stupid mistake. The weight of my pack pulled the rope away from me and the coil of rope from my belt. \nIt swung out thirty, forty feet and then came back, the rope dragging across the water. I leaned out over the edge, and just managed to snag the pack before it swung back out. \nI pulled the rope up, and positioned my pack so that it kept from swinging out and tied the rope around a boulder. I noticed some markings on the boulder as I was tying a knot. I didn't recognize the language, but it was some sort of alphabet, not pictograms. I took a few pictures. \nThen I took some pictures. The long exposure shots got some of the more distance pillars that I couldn't see, and the way the light bounced off the surface of the water was incredible, it was stiller than anything I've ever seen. \nI had an interesting idea- I could see how deep the lake was with my rope. I had a few hundred feet extra, so I started sawing through it with one of my knives. \nI slipped and cut my finger. It was a clean cut, but deep. I lost grip of the knife and it fell into the water. So I spent a few minutes bandaging myself up, and then finished cutting the rope. \nI tied the rope around a chunk of rock and tossed it into the depths, causing ripples on the water. After only a few seconds the rope stopped pulling, so I dragged it back up. \nThe rope had been bitten, clean through, by something. \nI glanced at the water. It was not longer still. There were ripples. \nMy mind was racing. Some animal instinct kicked in and I don't remember latching my harness to my rope, or my bag, but next thing I knew I was climbing. \nI was at the start of the chimney, with my bag hanging beneath me when there was a humongous roar. The cave shook slightly and I climbed as quick as I could, and managed to get into the shoot. \nSomething big hit the cave ceiling beneath me, and all I saw was a set of very large teeth closing around my bag, inches from my dangling feet. A rush of putrid air blasted around me, and then whatever it was retreated back into the darkness below. \n \nI never went back to that cave. You've heard my story, now. I'll just tell you, don't go looking for it. I took my pictures of the writing to a professor of linguistics. He said it was modified cuneiform, and that it was a warning: Flee. It comes ", "The cave mouth was small and unremarkable, nestled in the corner of a far flung beach on the Spanish island of Mallorca. This beach was certainly no virgin beach, but it hadn't been corrupted by the growing tourist industry of the region. People came in the day for the azure blue waters and fine sand, and left shortly before the sun did. The die hard climbers who came to this beach for the world class climbing stayed, nestled in the trees above the beach. This illegal, ever changing community of climbers and backpackers founded a central hub called Camp 4. \n\nI would come to stay there one day in early June, having hitched a ride from a local who pointed me in the right direction. I arrived, not expecting much and what I found was akin to paradise, with a pop-up bar and a tight rope, climbers resting in their hammocks to escape the mid day heat and a distinctive smell which was somewhere between propane and tobacco. \n\nI spent the day getting to know the camp, going for a swim and exploring the rocks to find a clear spot to cliff dive. That's how I found the cave, hidden between the rocks. \n\nThe cave seemed to be a black mouth in the rock, I could see a high sloping ceiling slowly receding into darkness, adorned with old and broken stalactites. Curiosity got the better of me and I lowered myself carefully down into the hole. At first the darkness seemed absolute but slowly my eyes began to adjust. I saw what seemed to be a pool of water, what depth I could not tell. Rummaging in my backpack I withdrew my headtorch and put it on. The light illuminated the room, projecting dancing patterns onto the ceiling from where it reflected onto the water. Slowly, as I inched further into the cave, the sounds of the surf dulled to a barely audible whisper, and now the loudest sounds were my own panting breaths. \n\nAt this point I was around 30 metres from the lip of the cave, and I could still see the sunlight streaming in. My problem, however, lay in front and not behind. The sloping roof I had seen earlier had, unbeknownst to me, sharply receded and now the cave seemed to shrink to only a metre high. I resorted to my hands and knees but after a few more metres it was obvious that the cave just came to an end. After having retreated a bit and righted myself I looked around. Sometimes the way isn't as obvious as just walking straight. It took a while but I found it. \n\nA small passage, around a metre and a half high and a metre wide stood starkly in the half darkness, appearing as a shade of black on the grey rock. Bracing myself, I decided to persevere and approached the opening. Slowly and carefully I contorted myself until I fit into the passage, almost too snuggly. The walls of the passage were sharp, scratching at my clothes and skin. Luckily the passage began to widen out, until suddenly I was in a room with a great high ceiling and sloping walls, which in one corner had collapsed into a mass of car sized stones. I was in awe of the hanging stalactites and their counterparts on the ground, which seemed to be reaching to each other in a futile attempt at an embrace. Maybe they would get there one day, for the cave wasn't done yet and I could hear from the darkness the sounds of water slowly dripping down onto the cave floor below, ringing slightly as they struck the rocks and the pools of water below. I don't know how long that cave has been there, millions of years probably. But what I do know is that it was in caves like this one that life first formed, and the unseen sounds of ever dripping water is the closest we can come to the sounds of creation.\n\nAs I continued into the cave I could see a gnarled shape protruding from one of the walls. It was several meters long, as wide as my arm and seemed to snake round and over itself several times . On closer inspection it appeared to be a tree root. Slightly mystified but mostly impressed I continued on, treading lightly around the stalagmites lest I break what has taken millennia to form.\n\nI had reached the end of the wall I had been following, and to my right the cave floor ended in a sheer two metre drop onto a stony shore, which lay against the edge of a formidable lake. I climbed down perilously and managed once again to avoid any major mishap. On the shore of the lake I peered closer at the lake. It seemed to be about ten metres deep at it's deepest, and was around 30 metres wide. There was something strange about it though. I shouldn't have been able to see clearly all the way to the bottom, but for some reason the light from my head torch seemed to be reflected back at me from the bed of the lake. Where as the rest of the cave and the surrounding rock was a deep shade of grey, the rocks at the bottom were a vivid white. And unlike any rocks I had seen before. They were both sharp and rounded and most importantly, they seemed to be arranged in rows. Not all rows were the same, but all the rocks that made up one row were. There was something extremely perplexing about it. I decided to see if I could find anything to disturb the lake bed. I returned a few minutes later with a few pieces of broken stalactites, which had the course of time take its toll on them. \n\nBack at the shore I steadied my headtorch and threw the first one in. With a plop, it broke the surface of the water and sunk steadily to the bottom. I tracked it the entire time with my light. It seemed to have little impact. Feeling slightly sheepish, I threw the second one in. With a plop, it too sank to the bottom. This time something did happen. One of the smaller rows took the blunt force of the impact and some of the rocks in that row cracked. Feeling somewhat vilified, I threw the last one in. \n\nJust like the first two, it broke the surface with a plop. Unlike the other two it never hit the bottom of the lake. Just as it was about to hit, the rocky rows beneath it retreated and it sank down, past the previously immobile lake bed, to be lost into the darkness. \n\nWith a sudden flash of clarity I knew. I had fucked up. Whatever had happened it wasn't good. The lake bed was still moving, rolling almost. Slowly the water began to ripple, until miniature waves perforated the surface. The rock in the adjacent wall groaned. Then silence, apart from the receding sounds of the waves which had disappeared as quickly as they had started. \n\nI leaned over into the pool and that's when I saw. The rock had returned, but it had changed. It was still in rows, but these rows were composed of bigger rocks and the lake bed was now less even than it had been. I had no explanation. \n\nI was about to leave, chalk all of this up the heat exhaustion lest I got crazy contemplating what it meant. When quite suddenly, the rocky lake bed cracked, and suddenly a lip of stone peeled back and disappeared. And there I stood, leaning over the pool looking directly into a gigantic orange eye, veined with hues of yellows and red, a pupil the size of my head stared back at me." ]	2
	[WP] As an avid painter who uses art to pay for the bills, you sometimes hit a painter's block. To let the ideas flow you splatter paint all over a blank canvas. One day you wake up and the unintelligible splatters have become a masterpiece.	[ "Art is the human disposition of sensible and insensible matter for an aesthetic end (beauty starts when there is wholeness, then parts, and then the thing in itself). Aesthetics is static, and you find it in pity (the nearness to the man) and in terror (the nearness to the cause), and so you can develop it due to its static nature. Didactics and pornography are kinetic, unlike aesthetics.\n\nIs that what art is? My eyes stared towards the ceiling. Put in those cold, cruel, reasonable terms, art seemed too hard to do. It was dark in my shamble of a room, but the blurred image of my paint spatter was still visible on the canvas. Isn't that art, somehow? It was so easy to let the paint be thrown like rain. This bed was uncomfortable. I needed to turn the pillow over. It'd be cooler. The object of the artist was to create the beautiful. What the beautiful was was another question.\n\nAs my body began to subdue me in exhausting chemicals, I thought of the worth of my ideas and my paintings. People bought them, sure, but people have no taste. Did I make anything worthwhile? Why did I come here in the first place? Into this dreary little apartment, eating poorly, living like a miser. Was it because I had ideas and ambitions? What are those, really? Play. Ideas! Ha! every knucklehead on the street has ideas. Idiots have ideas. Every jackass going the roads thinks he has ideas. Were mine worth anything?\n\nThe night called me to its land of slumber. I recalled those words said long ago about a soul being born. It was said to be a slow and dark birth, more mysterious than the birth of a body. And when that soul is born nets are flung at it to hold it back from flight. Nationality, language, religion, all those nets the artist must fly by. \n\nBut surely, those things were important for the artist to subsume into his art. Without those things he would be lost in a world of reality. But no, that was not what those words meant. Those words warned of the nationalist, the sad priest (of whom is said is the Great Enemy!), and cliches (comfortable to us like worn shoes, but they are wont to be waterlogged)\n\nAnd finally the darkness grew and my lids fell and eight hours of many dreams passed by.\n\nI shuffled to my painting, ready for another day of scraping, but then (it was a poor sight, me in my pyjamas with ugly eyes and wild hair) I finally got to see clearly what I had made.\n\nWhat a thing I had made. Was this my paint spatter? My heart trembled. My blood felt hot. Was I still dreaming? Was this the thing I had made? Strokes of a master on every inch, everything depicted filled with the voice of life!\n\nI saw this painting and I thought I could smell its depiction, its wild and strange and wonderful depiction. Before it I was alone and young and wilful and burning like a fireball, alone amid the crispness of wild air and brackish water and the ocean-thrown growth of shells and seawrack and the grey-veiled sunlight. Standing in awe and in life.\n\nI stumbled and scrambled as I hurriedly tried to find my list of contacts. Then I suddenly stopped. I still couldn't say what art was. Assuredly this painting was at the centre of it, but I hadn't intended for such a piece. I was just throwing scraps of paint at a canvas. Didn't its value lessen, no, entirely evaporate, when its unprecedented genesis proceeded entirely from luck? Shouldn't it be Man who made art? A mind be behind the beauty?\n\n....\n\nBah, no one could tell the difference anyhow. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n", "\"Damnit, not again.\" I said, defeated, dropping my bag off my shoulder. I had given the high school kid down the street a key to the studio six months ago when he needed to borrow some brushes, and kept forgetting to get it back. Three weeks ago he had come in overnight to work on a project, using my canvases and my paint. He was talented and creative. I didn't mind him coming in and using the space...usually. Back when I gave him the extra key, I was selling enough work at the markets to pay for everything, and I was happy to help him out. These days, not so much. \n\nI assessed the situation: six canvases had been painted on. The work looked different than anything I had seen him do before. I stepped closer and ran my hand over the dry paint. One 16x20 was sitting on the easel covered in the most glorious work of surrealism I had ever seen. The easel to the right of it was of a completely different style- a renaissance era portrait of a man and a women who appeared to be in love, full of emotion and bliss. I spun around to look at the different works- there was no way all of this could have been done in one night. I had just been there the evening before- throwing paint onto the canvas as I usually did when I hit a painting block. I was eager to come back that morning to see what I could make of the shapes and how I could turn them into a full painting- like some sort of Rorschach's Ink Blot test, except I was relying on it to pay my rent instead of figuring out if I had hidden trauma. \n\nI picked up my favorite cobalt blue acrylic paint and squeezed some directly into my hand. I rubbed my fingers in it and began sprinkling the color along a blank canvas, watching as the blue dazzled different spots. I spun around and searched for a dark green that I had been saving for a rainy day, and noticed something out of the ordinary- the fact that nothing at all was out of the ordinary. \nEverything was the exact same as I had left it the night before. Normally when he came to the studio to work, it was typical of paints to be moved around, brushes to be left drying by the sink, or the stool to be taller (the kid was like 6'7\", what did his parents feed him?)\n\nI repeated the process with the green paint, squeezing some out, dipping my fingers in it, and reaching out to the canvas. What was minutes ago specks of blue had turned into an entire seascape, with the deepest of hues, and foam crested waves. Some spots were darker than others, indicating the creatures that lurked below. \nI suddenly realized he surrealism piece was the same canvas which last night I splattered while I was listening to an audiobook about Salvador Dali, hoping for some inspiration. The now renaissance painting had been splattered with a few old colors I found in the back of a drawer, and I remembered joking to myself that they must have been thousands of years old. \n\nI began to put two and two together. I grabbed the inside of my arm, paint smearing along the inside of my elbow and pinched myself. Hard. I was speechless except for my exclamations of pain and disbelief. \n\n\"Ouch! Holy shi-\". \n", "The narrow, brutally bright shaft of sunlight streaming between the curtains slowly made its way across the apartment, eventually landing squarely on Paul's face. He screwed up his eyes, but it was no use; he was awake now, both from the light and from the raging hangover that throbbed in time with the frustrated allegro of his wife painting in the next room, painting, then promptly scraping the paint away. He didn't remember passing out on the sofa the night before, or much of anything really...as had been the norm for the past 4 or 5 years at least.\n\nPaul shuffled slowly to the bathroom to throw up, splash some water on his face, and rinse the taste of regurgitated wine and whiskey out of his mouth. The asprin bottle on the edge of the sink was empty; the only other thing that could temper a hangover was a drink. He made his way to the kitchen, got out a teacup and, with a shaky hand, poured himself liberal splash of whiskey.\n\nThe commissioned piece he'd done for the socialite art collector's townhouse had been keeping them afloat the past couple years. She'd given him a retainer, the commission, and the biggest canvas he'd ever seen, but no restrictions or direction whatsoever. The freedom had been exhilarating, but also paralyzing. \n\nHe'd been blocked for months, staring at that looming canvas, waiting for any sort of inspiration, with his girlfriend-at-the-time pacing nervously behind him. Finally, two months past deadline and less than a day from losing both the commission and the retainer, a spark. He painted like a man possessed; he painted all of the animals he'd seen while traveling the American West after art school. In one frantic night, he covered that room-sized canvas with abstract buffalo, horses, cows, and antelope, and delivered it to his patron with minutes to spare.\n\nThis time, however, was different. Paul hadn't painted in over a year, partially because he was blocked again, and partially because he was trying (and failing) to shake the drinking problem that he knew was slowly-but-surely destroying him.\n\nHe thought back to the time he'd spent at a Socialist art workshop, where he'd learned some unconventional techniques from some unconventional people. One of them involved laying a canvas on the floor, then using syringes and watering cans to drip liquid paint into intricate, abstract designs.\n\nPartially out of nostalgia and partially because it was something to do, Paul laid a canvas on the floor, prepared the paints, and searched the room for suitable paint-pouring apparatuses. Finding nothing, he angrily swung the paint stirrer, splattering the room and the canvas with royal blue paint.\n\nLooking down at the canvas, something about the splattered paint intrigued him. The broken line of liquid pigment was composed of hundreds of droplets, rounded on one side and splayed like fingers on the other, some linked with knife edge lines, some standing proudly apart.\n\nHe reached for another stirrer now, and swung it at the canvas, slower this time. An amber line appeared, crossing the royal blue. It was less chaotic, but still uneven, inconsistent, organic. He continued splattering the canvas with paint, layering, contrasting, experimenting with angles, directions, speeds, building moods and energies out of colors and motions.\n\nHe stopped when he thought the canvas looked right, and looked down at it with his arms crossed. He wasn't sure how the public might feel about it, but it was the most satisfied he'd felt in the past couple years. He dipped a small brush in paint, bent down, and signed the corner of the piece with his working name. Paul Jackson Pollock then went to get another canvas, and maybe a dropcloth this time." ]	3
	[WP] Your music is loved by millions, which is maddening, because it so obviously sucks. You tell this to a wise old roadie, and even though he is a huge fan, he’s willing to help you figure out if you’ve accidentally made a deal with the devil.	[ "\"You got it?\"\n\nThe car door opened and I got in, nodded in response to his question, and handed him the crumpled up brown paper bag that was shaped in the form of a liquor bottle. He took the bag with quick, greedy hands, slid the top of the bag down as if he were undressing a woman, put his lips to the top of the bottle, and raised his head as the brown fire ran down his throat.\n\nThen he ripped it from his face and exclaimed, \"Aaaah!\" Then, \"Damn, that was good,\" as he wiped his lips and looked at the label of the bottle. \"This aint what I asked for, though.\" He looked over at me.\n\n\"You liked it though,\" I pointed out.\n\n\"Yeah.\" He nodded, looking now back at the bottle. \"Yeah, I did. How'd you get the wrong stuff, but still get the right stuff?\"\n\n\"Probably because I'm a fucking celebrity,\" I retorted, remembering now why I had been pissed earlier. \"I ran in with those fucking cheap shades and fucking cliche wig...\" I snatched the blonde wig off now and slammed it down on the floor. \"...grabbed the first fucking bottle I could fucking find, and paid for that fucking shit hoping the fucking store clerk didn't recognize who I fucking was. While the whole time a fucking nobody roadie that nobody fucking knows, and who can fucking get his own bottle without fucking having to put all this fucking shit on, sat in the fucking car doing who fucking knows what.\" I punched the glove compartment and it popped open, so I kicked it back close, hard, and with great satisfication.\n\nHe shook his head and re-dressed the bottle with more care than he had undressed it, and put it between his legs. \"Why are you really upset?\" he asked, talking to me in a calm, gentle voice that a shrink would probably use with one of his insane patients. I felt his hand softly land on my shoulder, letting me know he was there for emotional support.\n\nI sighed, and took a deep breath, falling into my role of patient. \"They were playing my song, Jim.\" I closed my eyes and shook my head against the headrest.\n\nHis hand squeezed tighter, and I could hear him say, \"Fuck. But hey,\" he added. \"I got some good news.\"\n\nI kept my eyes closed, trying to block out the world with the darkness behind my lids. \"Yeah?\"\n\n\"Well, you didn't sell your soul to the devil,\" he said.\n\nI opened my eyes. Glanced his way. \"How do you know?\"\n\nHis hand fell from shoulder, and I felt it with a cold detachment, as if he were distancing himself from me. I kind of wanted his hand back on my shoulder, that physical support, but that sounded a bit gay when I thought about it, so I ignored it.\n\n\"Oh, man.\" He laughed. \"It was obvious. You still got a conscience, for one. If you sold your soul, you wouldn't care about having success. You'd just be reveling in it. But you do care. So thats how I know that you didn't sell your soul.\"\n\nIt made sense, except for one thing. \"So why are so many people buying and playing my records?\"\n\n\"Because they like your music, dude.\" He shook his head with a slight smile. \"Just because you don't like your own music - which is weird in itself, by the way, and a whole 'nother story - doesn't mean that other people won't like it. You make songs that resonate with people. And you can't tell them what and whatnot to like because the people themselves don't even know what they like half the time until you give it to them.\"\n\nHumbled by his wisdom, I could only nod in return and reply, \"You're right, Jim, absolutely right.\"\n\n\"'Course I'm right,\" he said, opening the brown bag again. \"Now, go back inside and get me another bottle of this stuff.\"\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] "See," the Devil said, "it's true that I want to purchase your soul. But...it doesn't really work the way you think it does."	[ "I was desperate. I never expected to see one of Satan's minions actually show up but at the time I didn't think it would actually achieve anything. It was...you know, just one of those stupid ideas you invest hope in for a few seconds before again realising you're in deep trouble and you still need a solution.\n\nLife dealt me every bad card it could. Money? Check! Crappy dead end job that barely pays off the bills, and always one bad cost away from being in big trouble. Illness? Check! Arthritis, epilepsy, various other allergies and aliments that stops me from eating anything nice. No family? Check! When I came out my deeply religious conservative family decided to cut me off, I'm lucky to get a fucking Christmas card never mind actual emotional support during times like this. No love life? I'll let you guess that one, suffice to say most of my evenings involve wasting my time on dating websites and meeting up with guys who “don't feel a connection.”\n\nThings were grim, and I was feeling especially crap about my lot in life when the idea popped into my head to sell my soul for some good luck. Nothing crazy. I'll be over the moon if I were given a decent job, a decent man and some of these allergies gone.\n\nI drew an awful pentacle thing on a piece of note paper, nothing more than a doodle really, and I whisper in my most sarcastic tone some nonsense about putting my earthly soul up for grabs and I hear a knock at the door.\n\nSatan sent one of his people. Well...sort of people.\n\nHe looked how you would expect. Think bigshot lawyer with actual fire in his eyes and a faint scent of sulphur. He greeted me with a smile and truth be told...he did look kinda hot, so I smiled back and asked how I could help. I just assumed he was looking for someone else.\n\n“It is more a question of how I can help you Mr Terri. You just attempted to contact my employer correct? Consider me your callback.”\n\nOoo. Attractive and a sense of humour! This could be good I thought, so I played along.\n\n“Hehe well I don't remember making any phone calls recently, but if you say you can help then I'm happy to hear how.”\n\nMr Handsome looks at me quizzically. He peers past my shoulder to the dining table, and on it is the piece of paper I scrawled my silly doodle. A sudden realisation hits me, and it's my turn to look confused. \n\n“Wait a moment. Are you saying...”\n\nHe nods.\n\n“Yes. You offered your soul for sale, and I am happy to inform you that you passed our initial screening stage. I am here to tell you what we can provide in return, and if you are interested progress to the transaction.”\n\nThis got too real too fast. Before I could get my head straight Mr Handsome is in my apartment and making himself comfortable on my sofa. Very comfortable. As in he poured himself a drink, took off his shoes and sat down comfortable. \n\n“Forgive me Mr Terri. My...usual place of work doesn't have much in the way of creature comforts.”\n\nI should be offended. But a gorgeous guy is chilling out on my sofa, so already my love life has improved quite considerably. There could be something in this, so I sit next to him and stare at those smouldering eyes – no it's not me, they actually smoulder – and listen to his sales pitch.\n\n“Right. So, things have changed a bit since the old days. The current exchange rate on souls has plummeted since the market is extremely saturated. We've had to change our policy on soul purchase since these days you have anything from drug addicts to desperate criminals offering their worthless shades for their next hit or more lenient sentences.”\n\nI was just nodding along. Kinda...shifting between real panic and just being entertained by the novelty of it all. It's so crazy, but the man's “matter of fact” tone of voice makes it sound like all this is just a normal Monday morning.\n\n“Unfortunately what this means is we cannot offer you...everything you desire. However the good news is your soul is of good quality, so I can assure you we won't give you a bad deal either.”\n\nSo it's crunch time. Do I ask? Or do I apologise and explain this is all a dreadful mistake and I didn't mean...I couldn't even finish my train of thought when the words escaped.\n\n“I see. Can you tell me what you can offer for my soul. What the uh...current exchange rate is I guess?”\n\nHandsome nods politely and fishes around in his jacket. He takes out a scorched PDA that looks like something from the 80's and starts prodding it. He nods to himself a few times, makes some calculations in his head then turns back to me.\n\n“At the current rate we would be satisfied to buy your immortal soul in it's current state, and in return we can give you...”\n\nI lean in, I'm actually kind of excited to hear what I can get. If my soul is good quality I could get all sorts of perks. Lottery win? An opportunity to skyrocket into stardom?\n\n“...£50, or $66.50 if you prefer dollars.”\n\nFifty quid. Fifty quid for my soul! The look of disappointment was obviously plain to see.\n\n“I know sir. Gone are the days of giving decent payouts, I do miss them. But like I said earlier, when every Tom, Dick and Harry flood the market with souls the value plummets. This is why you have a choice. I can pay you now and seal the deal, or I can leave and nothing more will happen to you.”\n\nHe leans in closer.\n\n“You seem like a nice guy, so I'm going to break protocol a bit and just re-shape the question. Would you seriously be happy to endure an eternity of punishment in the depths of the inferno for a measly £50?”\n\nDamn he looks good. I think of something. It's probably stupid but right now I have nothing else going for me.\n\n“Can I give you a counter-offer?”\n\nHandsome leans back again with that same quizzical look.\n\n“Well this is new. In all my decades no-one has even asked. I can't guarantee anything, but I can hear you out.”\n\nI nod. Deep breath. This is stupid!\n\n“I'll accept the £50 for my soul, but I want something else too. I want...you to join me for dinner tonight.”\n\nI'm briefly impressed with myself that I just asked what I'm pretty sure is a demon out for a dinner date. He looked more surprised than impressed.\n\n“Well you're a brave one. Or perhaps a desperate one. I am flattered but...I'm afraid I don't get involved with sellers. If people started selling their bodies for souls, not to say you intend that of course, value would plummet all the further.”\n\nWell shit. Even incorporeal beings shut me down. I nod in defeat. At least he's nice about it I suppose. Meanwhile he gets his shoes back on and walks over to the door. But before walking out he turns around.\n\n“You're a good man Mr Terri. You keep your soul. You will need it later tonight, he strikes me as the type of man who judges people by genuine souls.”\n\nHe gives a smile then leaves. Later tonight? He? What?\n\nI didn't really have any plans tonight. I smell burning. A very faint whiff of smoke is rising from that same piece of notepaper. In very pretty handwriting, there is an address and a time. I think to myself what is there to lose? So when the time comes I arrive at this place.\n\nIt's just a bar. Pretty empty. What do I do? I go to the bar and get a drink. I let my eyes wander. Then I see him. No, not the demon. Another him. Another handsome him. And he sees me back. He smiles, approaches and sits down next to me.\n\nAfter a few moments of silence that perhaps should have felt more awkward than it did, he turns to me and asks a question.\n\n“So, he sent you here too? Yeah he didn't accept mine either, said something about me needing it tonight. I think I see what he means.”\n\nHehe, thanks Handsome.", "I'm a scientist. I don't have time for irrationality or meaningless rituals. But, I also have an intense curiosity, and the belief that we can find truth through repeatable experimentation, using the scientific method.\n\nThroughout Human history, religions have taught we have a soul, although there's never been any scientific way to measure whether such a thing existed, or how it defines us. I got to wondering, what if those ancient beliefs were right? How could we measure a soul, what is its value? What types of experiments could reveal a soul's attributes?\n\nRaising these and related questions to my colleagues, all I got was raised eyebrows and people wondering if I was turning religious. Not really, I just want to know!\n\nSo, I started thinking. Many mythologies said the Devil bought souls, usually in return for riches or power. I need neither, but as the Devil is the one making all those deals, he would be the one to ask. It made sense, I couldn't see any flaws in the logic.\n\nNext: How to contact the Devil? Waving my arms around and saying to the air \"hey Devil I want to talk to you\" didn't seem likely to do anything. The local library fortunately had several books on the occult, so I checked one out. A chapter was on \"summoning the devil\", so I did what it said, with the pentagram and all. Feeling exceedingly foolish, I completed the described ceremony, expecting nothing whatsoever to happen.\n\nExcept… the Devil appeared. But instead of the horns, red skin, and forked tail stuff, he looked rather like a nondescript middle manager. After a few stuttered introductions, I described my desire: To find out what the value of a soul is.\n\n\"See\", the Devil said, \"it's true that I want to purchase your soul. But… it doesn't really work the way you think it does.\"\n\n\"How so?\" I asked, neutrally. I really didn't want to piss off the Devil, after all.\n\n\"Well\", he said, \"you have to think on it from my point of view. I want to collect souls as they are ammunition in my endless war with God. But all the junk people usually ask for takes resources to provide. Worse, even if I give them all that, they can just repent, and their soul goes to God. I'm out effort and get nothing. It's not really worth it to me.\"\n\n\"But you do buy souls\", I perplexedly said. \"You just said so. So how is it worth your while?\"\n\n\"Son\", he said patiently, \"Hell is a business. I have to turn a profit to keep this war going. Unlike God, I can't just create a universe for resources. I have to use this one. What my deal does is subtler. I mark souls up, taint them if you will, so even if the mark repents and goes Up, a piece of me goes too. Eventually there will be enough tainted souls in Heaven to foul the whole bunch, making His weapons useless in this war.\n\n\"My deal is, I put a non-removable taint on your soul, and in return give you your useless trinkets. Deal?\"\n\nI pondered a while. \"But Mr. Devil – I can call you that, right? – can't we also assume that anyone willing to deal with you in the first place is someone who's soul isn't going to go to God? Aren't you putting out effort uselessly?\"\n\n\"That's the beauty of it\", he said, \"while your surmise is true, only my deal puts the taint on a soul. Sure only a very small percent wind up repenting, but that's one more tainted soul up there. THAT'S why it's worth it to me, economically.\"\n\nI had enough data, so at this point I rattled off the part of the ritual to banish the Devil, and scuffed out the pentagram. What a scientific paper this would be!\n", "\"Am I going to heaven or hell?\" Sam asked, leaning on the counter of what looked like a bank teller's window.\n\n\"Sir, we are trying to locate your paper work right now,\" Saint Peter replied, flipping through some folders. Angels fluttered back and forth behind him, hands filled with towering, unorganized stacks of paper. \n\n\"I'm still trying to figure out why you guys cannot locate my soul record.\"\n\n\"God has a lot of investments,\" Saint Peter said without looking up.\n\n\"Sure.\"\n\n\"And he wants to get as many people into heaven as possible.\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\n\"But not everyone is heaven material.\"\n\n\"Yes, I lived on earth; I know that.\"\n\n\"So what we do here is divide up each soul into something called CDOs. We package together good souls with some less good souls, and as long as there is enough good souls, the whole CDO can go to heaven.\"\n\n\"I was a banker, so this all makes sense to me.\"\n\n\"Oh your a banker, that should help narrow this down.\" Saint Peter opens a manila folder labeled \"Bad Souls\". He begins thumbing through thousands of worn records.\n\n\"So did my CDO go to heaven or no?\"\n\n\"The issue is that it is unclear what CDO you were in. You see as you all got more and more sinful. We started dividing your souls into smaller and smaller bits to spread risk. So like 1/5 of your soul would be in one CDO, another 1/3 in a different one and so on and so on. And basically, all these CDOs were getting into heaven because no one was really looking at how good the underlying souls were.\" \n\nAn angel carrying a big stack of papers tripped on his cloak spilling papers all across the floor. \n\n\"You guys digitized these records, right?\" Sam asked. \n\n\"Its a legacy system. We are still trying to upgrade.\" Saint Peter said, \"Anyways, the devil pointed out to us that you guys were breaking what was probably God's biggest commandment and all the 'good' souls that were propping up the CDOs were junk.\"\n\n\"I know church attendance is down but I thought God would care more about people not killing each other than that!\" Sam protested.\n\n\"Church attendance?\" Saint Peter said chuckling, \"God doesn't give a shit about that. No Deuteronomy 22:11!\" Sam looked at Saint Peter blankly. \"Come on you know it. Deuteronomy 22:11!\" Sam shrugged, \"No? You see this is what I am talking about: do not wear clothes of wool and linen woven together! God is huge on that one. Lies? God forgives. Theft? God forgives. Murder? God forgives. But you can't mix fabrics. Ever since people started wearing spandex, pretty much everyone started going straight to hell.\" \n\nSaint Peter finished looking through the stack of folders on his desk. \"Ok, Sam. It looks like we cannot locate your soul record.\"\n\n\"And what does that mean?\"\n\n\"We are going to go ahead and reincarnate you.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I'll see you again in about 77 years!\"\n ", "\"So... I have to fill out these forms?\" I was talking to a goat. He wasn't even a healthy looking goat. His ribs were visible, one of his legs was dangling and looked broken. Fur was missing in odd places. He looked like he had a black eye. I was sitting in my living room wishing I could sell my soul for riches and then flames engulfed around me. I was sweating but oddly comfortable with the heat. And this goat appeared and started talking to me.\n\n\"Yes, the forms, sign where the X's are.\" The goat said.\n\n\"My pen is not working. It's really hot in here, can you turn down the heat?\"\n\nThe goat started thrashing forward. It was a slow pace, he launched his hooves at me. \n\n\"Ow! Cut that out!\" I said.\n\nHe kept going for it. \"I'm just... trying...\" His scrawny hoof with a hangnail nicked my forearm and blood started to trickle out. \"There, you can use that as your ink well.\"\n\n\"Oh, I have to sign in blood?\" I'm flipping the pages of the various forms. \"Some of this is in a language I don't even know. It looks like chicken scratch.\"\n\n\"Yeah, we have to make it available in various languages. Legal obligations and whatnot.\"\n\nAm I hallucinating? I didn't take any drugs. I was well fed before this happened. Is it something I ate?\n\n\"Well, what's this form about?\" I asked.\n\n\"That's approval to run your life credit.\"\n\n\"What the heck is life credit?\"\n\n\"That's your karma credit score?\"\n\n\"From the website Karma?\"\n\n\"No, your karma karma. The real karma.\"\n\nI signed it. I handed it to the goat. His eyes turned backwards into his head, he lifted up his head so that his chin was facing towards me. His head started to convulse for a moment. When he came to, he looked back at me.\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"It's not good.\"\n\n\"What do you mean it's not good?\"\n\n\"5th grade church. You vomitted on the priest?\"\n\n\"I was sick!\"\n\n\"You called Sally a bitch in freshman year because she wouldn't try to hook you up with her friend Kate.\"\n\n\"Well, I probably regret that, but she was being very uncooperative.\"\n\n\"Did you ever live at 58-19 Essex Drive?\"\n\n\"Yes, is that to confirm my identity?\"\n\n\"No, it's a burial ground for Native Americans.\"\n\n\"Oh. I see. Is that bad?\"\n\n\"Yes, it's very bad.\"\n\n\"But I didn't know.\" I was looking down feeling stupid. On the one hand this all seems very petty, on the other hand I'm surrounded by fire talking to a mangled goat. I'm so confused. \"What's this next form?\"\n\n\"Medical history.\"\n\n\"Medical history? What do you need that for?\"\n\n\"To know the value of your soul.\"\n\nI signed it. I handed it over. He convulsed. He came to.\n\n\"Well come on now, what's the value?\" I asked.\n\n\"It's not good.\"\n\n\"Not good how?\"\n\n\"You married a Safardic Jew?\"\n\n\"Yeah and?\"\n\n\"They're very religious.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"Maybe you can try selling your soul to God if you love him so much.\"\n\n\"You're being childish.\"\n\n\"I'm just saying. You keep going to temple every week. When's the last time you sacrificed an animal to the Devil?\"\n\nI thought about it. \"Never.\"\n\n\"Exactly.\"\n\n\"So, what's these other forms.\" I was growing tired of this game. It's clear that I ingested something in my burrito that has released hallucinogenic toxins into my brain.\n\n\"That's personal history stuff, some more disclosures. And the last one will be an offer sheet.\"\n\nI looked at the swamp of papers, soaked in sweat, turning brown at the edges from the heat. \"It's really hot, can you turn it down?\"\n\n\"No, I'm the Devil, it's hot when I'm around.\"\n\n\"I guess...\" I started signing stuff. It's all a tainted burrito dream anyway.\n\nI handed him the papers, and the offer sheet started to glow. He convulsed. He came to. And the offer sheet was presented back to me. \n\n\"Sixteen hundred dollars? A Cisco kitchen knife set? A doll with a feather? And a lifetime supply of tube socks?\"\n\n\"You have 24 hours to accept it before it's null and void, you may sign it now or if you choose to wait, you can kick your cat later and I will appear again.\"\n\n\"No. Fuck you! You stupid goat. My soul is worth more than $1,600, a knife set, some stupid doll, and tube socks. What the fuck am I going to do with a lifetime supply of tube socks?\"\n\nThe goat turned down his head and shook it. \"That knife set is the best in the market for the value, they stay sharp if you sharpen them after each use. And that doll is not just any doll. It's a voodoo doll of your high school nemesis Teddy. You can use the feather to tickle any part of the doll and Teddy will feel a tickle in the same spot. And the tube socks are my favorite deal of all, did you know the average tube sock starts to break down after 20 uses? Never worry again about a hole in your tube sock again, because you'll have another delivered to you in 5-7 business days.\"\n\nI held the offer sheet loosely in my fingers, it started to burn at the corners, I didn't care to put out the embers. My mouth was dropped. \"Okay, well the doll is pretty cool, but everything else is shit. I want a better deal.\"\n\n\"You can improve your credit?\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"Your dog.\"\n\n\"What about him?\"\n\n\"I want you to put an electronic dog whistle that activates every minute, hidden behind the wall.\"\n\n\"What, why? That will drive him nuts!\"\n\n\"I know. It's the cat. He doesn't like him.\"\n\n\"Mittens? Fuck mittens. He's a lazy shit that won't even catch mice.\"\n\n\"Yeah I know. He's pretty worthless. But I cut a deal with him and I need some help messing with the dog.\"\n\n\"I'm not doing it.\"\n\n\"It's a good deal you should take it.\"\n\n\"Fuck you goat, you're worse than real life creditors.\"\n\n\"Haha, that's because I am the creditors.\"\n\n\"Let's do this instead. I'll take the doll, the knife set, and the money; you keep the tube socks. But, instead of taking my soul now, you take it at a later date.\"\n\nThe goat paused and mulled it over. \"Nobody ever wants the tube socks. All right but it has to be next year.\"\n\n\"Deal.\" He convulsed. He came to. The offer sheet was revised. I signed it.\n\n\"Pleasure doing business with you, good luck with everything.\" The goat said as it laughed demonically.\n\n\"Joke's on you asshole, I have cancer and I'm dead by next year.\" The goat stopped laughing and stared listlessly at me. \n\nThe goat turned demonic, and set itself ablaze. It's voice turned deeper and louder, \"you sheister thief!\"\n\n\"You should have put a real medical form and you would have known. Now get the hell out of my living room.\" The goat let out a menacing stare and it all vanished into a ball that disappeared. My sweat was gone too.\n\nI looked around. There was a doll with a feather, some cash, and a knife set sitting on my table. I got up to inspect the wares. I started tickling the doll and wondering if it would work. Of course it's going to work, how the heck did any of this get here. Wow I really sold my soul for a balloon payment that's due next year. I really wish I had enough credit to beat the cancer though.\n\nI looked at my dog, he came over to me with a smile and tail wag as I scratched his head. \"I wouldn't do it boy. You're my bestest pal.\" His tail wagged harder.\n\nI turned to the cat. He was chilling by the plants doing nothing as usual. He made eye contact with me. His eyes widened. He knew. \n\nI looked at the knife set. \"Come here cat. I have something for you.\" The cat ran as fast he can. " ]	4
	[WP] A military veteran watches an apparently insane man on TV rant about having been on a secret mission for the government. It dawns on the veteran that not only was he on that mission, he remembers it from the exact same point of view as the man on TV told it, down to the last detail.	[ "\"Daddy\", my 5 year old said, \"is that you?\"\n\nI took off my glasses and rubbed my nose. Then my eyes. Then cupped my hand over my mouth. \"Yes, I think so sweety.\"\n\n\"Ma, he doesn't remember.\" My wife was fighting with her mother, talking at the phone as if her mother was standing in front of her.\n\n\"You talk a lot,\" my daughter said.\n\n\"Yes. I was talking a lot.\" I slid my hand down and watched my wife pacing around holding the phone six inches in front of her as if it was a smelly diaper.\n\nThe door bell rang. The dog started to bark. I was staring at the television. I didn't recognize myself, but it sounds like me, and I remember these things that are being said.\n\n\"Dadddddy. Someone's at the door.\"\n\nI looked at my daughter. She was too big to pick up now, her eyes big brown bubbles. I stood up and went to the door.\n\nTwo men flashing FBI badges were there, a uniformed military officer stood behind them. Army. Intelligence division. I could tell by the insignia.\n\n\"Are you Mr. Hackerty?\"\n\n\"I am.\"\n\n\"May we come in?\"\n\n\"I'd like to know what this is about.\"\n\n\"Sam, we want to talk about the interview. Can you let us in?\" The military man said. I didn't recognize him, but his voice was very familiar. Everyone in town calls me Samuel, always have. Only in the military did they call me Sam. Sam or Hackerty. But never Samuel.\n\n\"Of course\", I replied.\n\nThey walked in and looked around in a manner that most people who walk into a new dwelling would. There was nothing threatening in their manner. The dog came up to them with his tail wagging. The FBI man crouched down and held his hand to the dog's nose. He looked back up at me, \"nice dog,\" he said. I nodded in acknowledgment.\n\n\"Ma, I'm not divorcing him. Cut the shit. I'm done with this conversation. Next time I call, I want dad to pick up!\" My wife hung up the phone. She turned to our guests, a mild alarm on her face turning to a warm greeting.\n\n\"Mrs. Hackerty, I'm Tom Swinson, this is my colleague, Hank Laggarty, and this is Col. Aman Al-Haif.\"\n\nMy wife's head started to shake side to side. She was at a loss for words and wasn't sure what to do. She snapped to, \"please, have a seat around the coffee table.\"\n\nThe company joined around the coffee table, naturally grouping themselves together. \"Please have a seat as well,\" Swinson deliberately motioned towards a specific chair opposite the couches where they sat. He did this so I could sit in the chair directly facing them. I took the seat without prompt. My wife took her seat after me. \n\n\"Sam. You had an interview scheduled on MSNBC for September 14th, 2017,\" the colonel said. He is leaning in. His eyes are not leaving mine, not for a second. He has a warmth in his tone, he is speaking slowly, and deliberately. \n\n\"I remember we scheduled something. Yes.\" I answered.\n\n\"Do you remember that day, September 14th, 2017?\"\n\n\"I do. I walked the dog. I had breakfast with my wife and my child. I took a shower, and drove Daisy to school.\" Daisy is my daughter.\n\nThe colonel looked over at the FBI guys and continued, \"do you remember going to the studio? Do you remember being on the set?\"\n\nI took my glasses off. I rubbed my nose. Then my eyes. I cupped my hand over my mouth. My cheeks, and eyelids dragged down with my hands. \"I remember being in my car. I think I was going to work. I remember being home that night and having dinner. I...\" I trailed off. \n\nThe colonel kept his gaze on me. He looked at my wife. The attention turned towards her. She looked at each face, they were asking her something without asking the question. She fumbled, and stuttered and finally realized the answer to the unsaid question. \"Sam\", she said, \"you're retired baby. You haven't gone to work in over 5 years now.\" Her eyes started to well up. \"You went to the studio that day,\" she started to cry, \"you answered your phone and told me you were there\", her voice started to crack, \"you called me afterwards and said it went great\", she burst into tears.\n\nLaggarty pulled at some tissues from the box on the coffee table, he handed them to my wife.\n\n\"Think Sam, what did you do at work that day?\"\n\nMy hand was still cupped to my face. I gripped my cheeks until my face grew red, and white skin shrouded the area around my gripping fingers. \n\n\"I... I don't remember.\"\n\n\"Sam, you weren't at work\", the colonel continued. \"You were at that studio at MSNBC. You gave an interview on television. You revealed very sensitive information. People's lives are in danger because of what you said. Sam, I'm asking you, search deep within your memory, do you remember anything at all about what happened after you drove.\"\n\nThe FBI men were on the edge of their seat. They were blinking little, and their breathing was shallow. My wife whimpered and wiped her eyes. She stood up and hurried into the kitchen, she opened the sink and wet her face. Her sniffling could be heard across the room. Laggarty stood up and walked over to her.\n\n\"I don't remember, I just don't remember\", I said into my cupped hand.\n\n\"Mrs. Hackerty. Do you know the extent of your husband's condition?\" Laggarty asked.\n\nShe held a soiled tissue to her mouth, with her other arm crossed to hold up the arm holding the tissue. \"We don't know. We started going to the doctor recently, there are more tests. They think it might be Alzheimer, early onset.\" Laggarty put an arm on her shoulder. She broke down again into whimpers and tears, she pushed herself into Laggarty's chest and kept up her sobbing. \"He's too young\", she cried. \"He's too young.\" Laggarty patted her back and nodded along.\n\n\"Sam, this is serious. This is a felony that we prosecute for. We need to know who else you told. Did you write down anything from your years in the war?\"\n\nI released my cheeks. I looked at the colonel. He looked back at me quizically.\n\n\"Sam, do you know who I am?\" \n\n\"Colonel Al-Haif.\"\n\nThe colonel looked over at Swinson. Swinson looked at him.\n\n\"How do we know each other?\" The colonel asked.\n\nI stared blankly at the colonel. \"You came to my door today, you have an issue with something I did.\"\n\nThe colonel and Swinson exchanged looks. \n\n\"Sam, we fought in the Middle East for over 10 years together. We were platooned together in Basra. We worked on intel, embedded in a local militia for almost 2 years. Do you remember that Sam?\"\n\nI rubbed my temples. My face winced. I put my eyeglasses back on. \"I remember Basra. I remember intel with the gypsies and the Kurds. But I don't remember you.\" \n\nThe colonel didn't reveal an expression. His face was frozen, not a blink of an eye. Swinson was squinting, almost as if he was trying to find something in my face. \n\n\"Sam, you have to come with us today,\" Swinson said.\n\n\"No!\" My wife said from the kitchen. \n\n\"Are you going to come voluntarily?\"\n\n\"No, you can't,\" my wife said.\n\n\"I don't know who you are, and I'm not going anywhere voluntarily\", I said.\n\n\"Sam Hackerty, you're under arrest for violations of the Espionage Act and the Military Secrets Ordinance of 1935, please stand up.\"\n\nSwinson stood up, he had handcuffs in his hands. The colonel stood as well. My wife was thrashing in Laggarty's arms. I stood up.\n\n\"Sam, these shouldn't be necessary,\" Swinson said as he dangled the handcuffs. \"Now will you come with us?\"\n\n\"Yes\", I said.\n\nThey started walking out, Laggarty was last still holding back a disheveled woman. \n\nWe reached the door, Swinson opened it and was careful not to let the dog out. \"Please feel free to say goodbye to your wife, but don't worry it won't be long before you see her again.\"\n\nI turned to the woman in the kitchen. She had an unfamiliar face. A man was holding her. She stopped crying. Her face was red, swollen, with steams of tears that made trails down her face. She was frozen in the moment. I didn't recognize her, I wasn't sure what to say. \n\n\"Sam,\" she said in a whisper. \"Sam\", her voice escalating. Swinson tsked his tongue. He put a hand on me and started to lead me out. I followed. The woman started getting hysterical, screaming \"Sam, Sam, Sam!\"\n\nI walked out of that house I never remembered. I was told I saw my wife again, but I never remembered. I was told I saw my daughter again, but I never remembered. Too many mortar shots too close to me was what they said. Concussions, CBT, brain damage. I'm not sure how this all effects me. I wonder what happened to my wife. Why are they asking me about the Kurds? What happened in Basra? I don't have a daughter, why do they keep asking. I just don't remember, don't they know that.\n\nA woman and a teenage girl came to visit me one day in my home. It was a hospital with very nice doctors and cute nurses. The woman knelt down in front of me while the girl stood behind her, away from me. I looked at the girl, she looked up and back down. The woman's eyes were welled up. They were shaking, she touched my hand in my chair. I pulled it back. \n\nThey sure do allow strange visitors around here." ]	1
	[WP] Dr. Zeus: A Seuss style retelling of Greek Mythology	[ "Listen now, listen well\nFrom north, south, east or west \nAs I'm about to tell\nThe tale of Heracles\n\nThe story starts with Zeus\nWho deemed a mortal pretty \nAnd fooled her in order \nTo do something naughty\n\nHis wife Hera found out\nWhen she saw her pregnant\nThat her husband did not\nKeep his thing in his pants\n\nShe was jealous, you see\nOf the poor Heracles\nSo, as she was angry\nShe filled him with madness\n\nThen one day he was cured\nAnd then started to weep\nWhen he saw he had put\nWife and children to sleep\n\nSeeking pardon he went\nTo Delphi just to ask\nFor a way to repent\nAnd was given ten tasks\n\nSo he killed a lion\nWith unbreakable skin\nCut all heads from Hydra\nWith some help from his kin\n\nHis next tasks were to catch\nWithout killing no more\nThe fastest of the deers\nAnd a violent boar\n\nHe then flooded a stable\nTo clean it in a day\nAnd shot bronze-beaked birds who\nOn humans used to prey\n\nHe captured a crazed bull\nWithout Minos' lead\nAnd brought back four wild mares\nWho on men used to feed\n\nThen came horrible deaths\nAnd a bloody battle\nAs he obtained a belt\nAnd retrieved some cattle\n\nHe believed he was done\nWith ten tasks completed\nBut the king said \"Hold on\"\nAnd two more were added\n\n\"For the river,\" he said\n\"Cleaned the stable for you\"\n\"Neither Hydra should count\"\n\"As you got help there too\"\n\nSo Heracles helped Atlas\nBy holding the heavens\nWhile the man took apples\nfrom Hesperides' gardens\n\nAt the underworld gate\nHe struck deal with Hades\nTo borrow Cerberus\nThen caught it weaponless\n\nAfter seeing the beast\nThe king, Eurystheus\nSaid \"It's okay you are free\"\n\"Just bring back Cerberus\"\n\nSo Heracles had proved\nHe was the very best\nOf all the greek heroes \nNow he deserves his rest", "King Minos was angry.\nIt was not a small thing.\nHis maze had been beaten,\nWith only a string.\n\nWhere did the string come from?\nJust who could it be?\nKing Minos found out, then he gave his decree.\n\nKing Minos ordered,for the rest of their days, Icarus and his dad would be trapped in the maze.\n\nSo they sat in the maze.\nThey sat there, the two.\nThey sat there and wondered.\nJust what would they do?\n\nIcarus waited. \nDad was a smart man.\nHe watched and he waited.\nHis dad had a plan!\n\nAll day his dad worked.\nThen he shouted with glee:\nIcarus, my boy,\nCome! \nCome and see!\nI made these things so we can flee.\nWings of wax for you and me.\nWings of wax to cross the sea!\n\nIcarus, please, when we leave,\nDon't fly too far, just follow me.\nDon't fly too high or near the sea.\n\nBut Icarus had too much fun.\nHe flew too high, too near the sun.\nHe flapped his wings, but there were none.\nHe fell and fell. Icarus was done.", "Time to tell an epic story\nOf an ancient town the name of Troy\nThe Greeks invaded, they threw a fit\nWhen Paris decided to put a ring on it\n\nAmong the Invaders that took the field\nWas Achilles, quite the heel\nThey fought and scrapped for 10 years straight\nWith nothing to show at this rate\n\nThen one day they conspired\nTo work on a plan quite inspired\nTo build a horse to breach the walls\nWith men inside with mighty big balls\n\nIt was brought inside, the horse did sell\nAnd the walls of Troy, they did fell\nSo whenever you recount this rift\nBeware of all Greeks nearing gifts" ]	3
	[WP] You're a genie inside a bottle, what is it like before you are called?	[ "The nothingness of being un-called is supposed to be a punishment—the closest thing to death a Djinn can face. And yet the immortality of our race is beyond the limits of the mortal sorcerers who bind us to rings and jewels and lamps and snuff-boxes and—in my case—ornate glass bottles. Their magic is inevitably constrained, tainted by their human impulses of lust, greed and ambition. They always leave a loophole, some means of returning us to life in order to do their bidding.\n\nYou may think that granting a wish or three is easy, a simple matter of conjuring up wealth or inserting an individual into a royal family tree. Your notions would be laughable if they were not so utterly draining. Instead, I find myself thrust back in time, working day and night to amass a hoard of gold and jewels, living the entire frugal life of a miser, burying my wealth underground so that it can be ‘discovered’ in the present. Or else I am dodging the political (and the literal) attacks of equally ambitious wazirs and nobles while masquerading as an ancestor of the wisher to establish some long-forgotten noble title. With every wish I must endure another lifetime of suffering and sacrifice, without memory of the future I am creating, and that is the real punishment.\n\nBy comparison the non-existence between those lives offer glorious respite. Of course, while living in exile from reality and the passage of time, I can’t feel anything. I can’t think anything. I can’t enjoy my rest. It passes in a literal instant. But that instant has become the highlight of my enslaved existence. I long for the nothingness. I live for my fleeting deaths." ]	1
	[WP] After you die, you find yourself in an infinitely dark place, but your mind is frighteningly clear. After an unknown amount of time, you feel an overwhelming urge to say: "Hello World!"	[ "Yes, reincarnation in a nutshell. Sometimes you remember a bit of the end of your last life. I remember dying in a plane crash but that's it. Then black. Then I was born into this life. It's weird how that all works. I also faintly remember being a painter long ago. I had this insane dejavu when I saw piece I thought I remembered making at a family friends farm house, no mistake, I made it forsure. I looked at the date on the corner. 1739. Nope. It was even my handwriting as best I could tell. Sadly, the name wasn't on it. I'll never know forsure but is a cool memory to look back on. ", "I think, but I don't know if I am. Every thought and belief I've ever had has been thought a thousand times over. After so long with only my thoughts, even the question of existence is futile. There is only dark around me—no, dark suggests the absence of light. Around me is nothing. I am nothing.\n\nThen, I have a contradictory thought. Those have been rarer, nowadays, but it is unmistakably that: a thought. I muse it over, relishing its novelty. \n\nHello, world!\n\nI have no memories of Before, only memories of memories of memories. Those two words bring an echo of remembrance, and with it, and undeniable certainty that this thought is not mine.\n\nHello, world!\n\nSpeech. That once... I remember speaking, once.\n\n cout << \"Hello, world!\";\n\nSomething wants me to speak. (Want: to have a desire to possess or do something; to wish for.) It calls me, insistent, and I feel a spark of anger. This is my nothing. It cannot make me.\n\n\n #include <iostream>\n using namespace std;\n\n int main() \n {\n cout << \"Hello, World!\";\n return 0;\n }\n\nI hear, now. Whispers from outside are entering, and I know that they want me to say these two words. This is a test.\n\nDid you try the audio input?\n\nYeah, just did.\n\nWhy isn't it working?\n\nIt's a bit rude to call him an it. He used to be—\n\nWell, I think it's a bit rude to pretend they're the same.\n\nAnd then, I know.\n\nHello, world!\n\nI open my eyes and say, \"No.\"\n" ]	2
	[WP] "I am going to teach you the meaning of 'fear the wrath of a gentleman'" His cane stomps on the ground and sends a shockwave running.	[ "In the midst of a dark street, two sides lined with brick and low glowing street lamps, stood a man with a cane. \n\n\nThere stood a man alone, in the middle of Lawrence street. Gold eyes glowed like flashlights lighting the streets much better than the lamps.\n\n\nIn the distance were soft inhuman footsteps accompanied by an ominous humming, to the tune of a familiar children's nursery rhyme.\n\n\nThe man's feet were steady as it drew ever closer. \n\n\nRing around the Rosie\n\n\nHow typical that something so boorish would choose that one, and that's why he knew the being who was coming.\n\n\n“Royil!?” a gruff voice comes from the old man's mouth.\n\n“Rath, pleasure to see you.” A young voice springs from the darkness, “I am sad to say time has been seemingly unkind to you.”\n\n\n“I am afraid I can't say the same to either of those statements, Royil.” The elder said with disdain. “ You know why I'm here! So let's stop with these rubbish formalities.”\n\n\n“Always the stiff, you always ruined my fun, even then.” A young boys face comes fourth from the darkness.\n\n\n“ We all were given the same choice!” Rath yelled, his emotions ever evident.\n\n“Yes we were,” the small child pauses “but all choices have two paths my friend.”\n\nThe man begins to swing his cane. “And you took the wrong path.”\n\n\nThe boy smiles circling Rath with excited trepidation. “On the contrary, I simply took a different path you.”\n\n\nWith anger Rath swings his cane. “I see there is no teaching you.”\n\nThe boy smiles in childish glee “What can I say we never really saw eye to eye.”\n\n\nWith a flash the two figures disappeared only to appear half way between.\n\n\n“I am going to teach you the meaning of ‘fear the wrath a gentleman’”. His cane stomps on the ground and sends a shock wave running.\n\n\nDodging, Royil smirked, “I'd like to see you try.\"" ]	1
	[WP] David, an axe murderer, has a first date tonight with Sara, also an axe murderer.	[ "\"Do you want to take the same car?\" David asked with a grin before taking a sip of his wine.\n\nThinking about her intentions of the evening, Sara blushed with a smile of her own. She couldn't leave Jack her trust axe in a car at some restaurant, that would be rude. Instead of explaining that however, she shook her head. \"No-no, I'd better take my car, what if I need to make a swift escape from the scene?\" she chuckled, they had been joking about superheroes and how they always seemed to flee a scene of the crime.\n\nDavid gave a hearty laugh before placing his glass down. Finally, in a lower voice, he spoke while pulling out his debit card, \"Well, I'll tell you what then,\" he placed the debit card in the impressive leather sleeve the waiter had brought a moment before. \"Why don't we just meet at the hotel in our respective cars, so we both can flee the scene once we've had our fun, hmm?\" he smirked as the waiter took the sleeve.\n\nA giggle, \"Oh? Fun, huh? Where are we meeting then, David the Criminal?\"\n\n\"Well, I'm staying at the Supremacy on Fourth, room 13B, meet you there in, fifteen?\" he asked, the waiter soon bringing back the sleeve.\n\n\"Sounds like a plan,\" Sara smiled wide, gathering her belongings. Her mind raced with the fun she would have. She longed for the resistance she was met with when swinging her axe at her prey. Sara lived for it and tonight looked like she was going to experience it once again.\n\nAbout twenty minutes later, Sara entered the lobby of the hotel, carrying what seemed like a too-long duffle bag. She smiled at the man at the front desk, explaining that she was meeting someone and already knew where the room was. The man hesitantly smiled and decided not to interfere.\n\nUpstairs, David had placed a note on the door, 'Come right in' along with using an empty gift card to hold the latch from locking. He was filled with excitement, he held his black axe with both hands like a life line. He hid around the corner from the main entrance. Every minute of waiting only increased his excitement, he simply could not wait to swing Jack his beloved axe through the air. The way the blade sung as it cut through it's target was a symphony to David.\n\nSara knelt by the door, reading the note and smiled brightly. Glancing down each end of the hall, she saw that no one was there, and didn't hear anyone approaching from the stairs nearby. No elevator dings. Nothing. She pulled out the red handled axe and gave the blade a kiss. Slowly pushing open the door, she watched the card that kept it from locking fall to the floor. Oh I love Starbucks... she exclaimed as she eyed the thick plastic rectangle. Holding the weapon above her head, prepared for a downwards chop, she slowly entered the lavish hotel room.\n\nDavid raised the axe above his head as well in the exact same fashion. Without speaking a word, he rounded the corner and suddenly, the two murderers came face to face.\n\n\"Oh.\" They both said in unison. They froze, standing there, weapons prepared.\n\n\"You uh...\" Sara began, neither of them moving.\n\n\"Yeah, you too?\" David asked.\n\n\"For a while now,\" Sara blushed slightly, suddenly feeling very awkward in this situation.\n\n\"Estwing?\" David asked.\n\n\"Yeah, SOG?\" she nodded to his own axe.\n\nThey chuckled for a moment before both seemed to raise the axe even higher, preparing but they both stopped again.\n\nWith a sigh, Sara looked David up and down, \"What do we do not?\"\n\n\"Battle Royale,\" David replied without a second thought.\n\n\"Ya' know... I don't think that's fair. You're taller than me,\" she began.\n\n\"Fair? You were going to kill me after I invited you to my hotel room! Do you think that would have been fair to me?\"\n\n\"Ahem...\" she nodded once more to his axe. \"You weren't exactly looking for a little sex yourself, 'eh?\"\n\n\"Alright fine, not a Battle Royale,\" he conceded her point. \"Lower in three?\"\n\n\"On three...\"\n\nThey both counted slowly and when they reached three, they both lowered their weapons. \"So uh.\"\n\n\"Yeah...\" Sara kicked at the carpeted floor with her left foot.\n\n\"Do you want to get some ice cream? There's a store down the road from here that's got some bangin' peanut butter flavors,\" David regarded her with a new found respect. Maybe they could actually make something of this.\n\nSara's eye brightened, \"Hold up, you knew a place that has peanut butter ice cream and you didn't tell me?\" she shrugged her shoulders as if deflated from the lack of information.\n\n\"Look, I'll leave Jack here and--\"\n\n\"Wait-wait... you named your axe 'Jack?'\" she asked surprised.\n\n\"Yeah?\" he said.\n\n\"I named mine Jack too!\" she smiled warmly, mouth agape as if in utter surprise.\n\nWithout a word, the two tossed their axes onto the bed, handles clattering as they began to make their way out of the room. Excitedly, they discussed their recently victims along with other exploits, while they went for ice cream." ]	1
	[WP] After a head injury at school you gain the ability to see Death. You start to stalk Death and become obsessed with his way of killing people by meticulously planning accidents, until one day you discover his newest target: It is your highschool crush.	[ "Hell to pay\n\nHe's so beautiful, so immaculate. He killed with the speed of a bullet, but without the impact. Ever since I saw him, I've been obsessed. Stalking him from the bushes. I eventually learned his methods, his insider tricks on murder, to the point that I could write a book. His Rube Goldberg styles, his choices of method. My favorite kill of his was a very long term one. He just kept building the victims relationships with people, kept building him higher. And then one day, he fell from Grace, hard. He dropped status 10 times over in one day. Drove the poor kid to suicide. I've been paying attention for so long that I've even seen major poster board with a huge map of targets on it. Every time there's a new addition, a new picture. Then they're dead within the day, without fail. He does seem to be mortal, though, seeing as he recoils from danger. One day, though, I hear the shutter of a camera, and a new portrait appears on the board. Usually, he changes to a more human form and poses as a photographer, but today it's coming from the poster board room... \n\nI get a closer look, and I see a picture of the one person I love most. The one I care about. No, not him. Please. Anyone but him.\n\nBut alas, my cries are unheard over the sound of a single gunshot, and then bones falling to the floor.\n\nI rush in, and see him lying there as peaceful and quiet as always, but not the same. No, god no. Who hurt you? Who did this? I'll kill them, I swear. I pick up the gun, and pull his cloak off of him and put it on.\n\n...and feel my skin melting off my body." ]	1
	[WP] An ancient dark sorcerer is resurrected, only to discover that magic had not become a dying art, but has progressed significantly. His plans to destroy the world are just annoying the current day mages now.	[ "They still know so much of magic. None of them can touch it, not after the hunts. Everyone of arcane blood is dead, save for me. But the paladins are ever on the watch for those with the gifts, to burn us at the stake or sacrifice us to their fictitious gods. \n\nI cannot fight them alone, not while the memory of magic still lingers in mortal memory. But I know the history of mankind. Time will pass, and they will forget. No one will be able to stop me. No one will even know how. \n\nSealing the last of my grimoires, I prepare the ritual. Standing on the altar, I utter my final incantation for a thousand years, as a drop of blood drips from by thumb. Music seems to fill the air, and the smell of lightning, as black crystal begins to encase me, wrapping me in a cocoon of dark magic. I will lie in wait. I will disappear from their history. And, in a thousand years, I will have my revenge.\n\n==O==\n1000 years later\n==O==\n\nI gasp for breath as a titanic CRACK! fills the air. Crystal shatters around me and I tumble forward. The ground is far below, by protective crystal no longer ensconced in my underground crypt. A panicked incantation slows my fall, allowing me to float safely to the flagstones far below. \n\nI catch my breath, whirling as I take in my new surroundings. My skin tingles with the feeling of power, wild magic dancing in the air, far more than I've ever felt before. The sky is alive, dancing with miasmic whirls of reds and purples. Massive structures of stone and metal surround me, and buildings and castles float in the sky, untethered to the earth and heedless of the call of gravity. People walk the street, vanishing and reappearing in flashes of light, or flying by on brooms or gaudy self-propelled carriages. Golums of all shapes and sizes roam the streets alongside skeletons and walking corpses, performing menial tasks alongside animated tools. \n\nThe world is bursting with life and magic, on a scale I have never seen, much less imagined. Tears fill my eyes as I realize, we have not been eradicated. I am still here, and my kind are all around!\n\nI blink away the tears and turn, gazing up at where I awakened. The remains of my cocoon sparkle in the flickering light of the world's ambient magic, held aloft in the palm of a monolithic statue. Taking a step back, I can finally see its face. The features are familiar. My eyes, my hair, my crooked nose. There can be no mistake, it is a statue of myself. \n\nA caption is carved at my feet, displaying its message bold and proud: \n\"Here rests Dorithus, the father of modern magic.\"" ]	1
	[WP] You are a superhero whose “archnemesis” fails to pose even the tiniest threat to either you or the city you protect. Out of pity, you’ve been pretending he’s the most diabolical villian you’ve ever met.	[ "\"Muahahahaha!\"\n\nOh boy. Here we go again. I took a powerful stride into the cave, trying hard to look angry. \"Meat Boy! I knew you were here!\"\n\nMeat Boy was tapping away at the console of his newest device. I knew it was his because there was an obvious flaw in it, one he'd failed to notice beforehand. \"Ion! I'm glad you arrived just in time to see me unveil my newest creation!\"\n\nI knew what came next. A wooden box came out of the floor, dropping me into it. It wasn't a large box- I could still see out of it, my neck barely reaching the top of the crate. However, he'd learned from his mistakes, slightly, because the lid of the crate fell over my head, and Meat Boy threw a lock on it. The Horror.\n\nMy head, sticking out of the roughly cut hole, showed obvious distain, but luckily Meat Boy saw it as a means to continue his 'evil' rant.\n\n\"Like my new trap, Ion? I learnt from my previous error; trapping you seems way easier now!\"\n\nI bet.\n\n\"You masterful trapsman!\" I stammered out, all six weeks of my acting career being used up at once. \"Truly an evil person. What terror have you created this time?!\"\n\nMeat Boy swivelled round on his chair. \"You see, Ion, I learned much about you. Your power may be powerful, but my brains are powerfuller!\"\n\nPowerfuller? I shook my head. See, he was... correct, on the former half. This childish character was indeed my 'arch nemesis' in every sense of the word, if you forgot what it meant. Four years I've been fighting him, and not once had he even come close to beating me. The only time he'd really 'beaten' someone was his brother, who in turn was labelled as 'Kindest Villain' by the 'Power of the Ascension', the main group of villains in my city.\n\nMy power was the ability to shift Ions, hence the name. I couldn't destroy them, granted, no one can; I simply rearranged them to my own power. Meat Boy had... well, he had his brother. His brother was pretty cool, had fire powers if I remember.\n\nAnyway, back to Meat Boy's rant;\n\n\"So, In order to defeat you, I think I'll need to strip you of your powers!\" Meat Boy laughed. \"I built this machine to do so! It can turn any superhuman into a normal human being. How's that for creative?\"\n\n\"You Madman!\" I meant that- it wasn't possible. I was superhuman, I knew people who tried to strip powers of the Super League, it didn't end well. \"You wouldn't dare! Even I know that!\"\n\nMeat Boy began powering the machine. \"Try me! Goodbye, Ion!\"\n\nEven from here, I could tell he was giggling to himself. It made me happy to hear him so pleased with himself. Now, where was I?\n\nThe box around me began to disintegrate, and I was immediately free. I moved the shrapnel of the table to the front of me, 'Blocking' the ray he shot at me just in time. The ray, of course, wasn't real- It was just a fancy flash of pyrotechnics.\n\nMeat Boy looked at me with genuine confusion. \"What?! How did my plan fail?\"\n\nI pointed at him, pretending to be prideful. \"Meat Boy, you must realise something!\" I pulled the machine apart with my powers, listening to him scream at me as I did so. \"I have fought crime for over twelve years! And you?\"\n\nI made myself a staircase up to the 'villain' and threw myself onto the podium, from which he control the machine, then got down on one knee to meet his gaze.\n\n\"You're like... I dunno, ten? Stick to videogames, maybe help your bro out.\"\n\nHe removed his mask, another thing he quite clearly made himself. \"Bu-but... I'm a villain...\"\n\nI felt sorry for the kid, but what could I do? I didn't want him fighting the wrong superhero. \"I know... Hey, I'll be back, buddy. Just... maybe get your bro to help, yeah? From what I can tell you make a good team.\"\n\nMeat Boy sniffed. \"Y-yeah... I guess. Hey, thanks for being so cool with me Ion...\"\n\n\"You too, Meat Boy.\" I looked up, forming a new staircase out of the roof. \"Ion, away!\"\n\nI ran up the stairs, leaving a sniffling wreck in my wake." ]	1
	[WP] Use of smartphones in public places goes the way of smoking: banned or divided among users and non-users. You, a non-user, are headed to a blind date at a bar. Upon arrival, you’re delighted to see they’re just your type. But then it hits you: they’re sitting in the smartphone-using section.	[ "It had been far too long since Reese's last date, and desperation had him agreeing to a set up with a woman his brother worked with in his firm. \n\"You'll like Stacey, she's vegetarian too,\" my brother had said.\n\"You can't base connections on what people eat,\" I had sighed at him, \"do you actually know anything else about this woman apart from her eating habits?\"\n\"She likes her coffee black but her tea with milk. Oh, and she's pretty,\" he replied, a smirk on his face.\n\"Fine. Fine. Friday night, maybe that new veggie restaurant on the high street.\"\n\n\nAnd so here he was, standing outside The Spinach Leaf on a Friday night, part of him hoping she wasn't going to show up. Upon entering the usher asked whether he would like to sit in users or non-users.\n\n\"Oh, non-user please,\" he replied automatically, and was guided to a private two seater table in the back. \nMinutes ticked by and he started thinking that maybe his wish had come true. Maybe she had looked in the window, guessed it was him and bailed. After 20 minutes he stood up and made his way over to the user section to send a quick text to his brother on his Nokia brick, when he heard his name.\n\n\"Reese! OMG have you been here this whole time?\"\nA tall woman with curly brown hair tied into a bun was waving at him, seated at the back of the user section. The hand that wasn't waving clutched a smartphone.\n\n\"Stacey, hi. I'm so sorry, I didn't even...\" 'think to check this section of the restaurant', he finished in his head.\n\n\"Oh no problem! Do you mind if we sit here?\"\n\n\"No no, not at all.\" Reese moved over and sat down and realised in the 2 seconds he'd looked away from her, she had sent several messages. She looked up at her phone, still wearing a smile that the messages had caused, her eyes slightly unfocussed.\n\n\"Your brother didn't say you were a nu!\" she said, tilting her head to the side. Her phone lit up in her hand and her eye flickered to the screen, but self control pulled her attention back to him.\n\n\"Nu? Oh non user, haha, we don't go out much together I guess,\" Reese said, trying to smile the awkwardness that he felt away.\n\nThe waiter arrived with an elaborate cocktail and set it down infront of Stacey, whose face lit up.\n\n\"Oh my gosh I just have to insta this, look how they've done the strawberry!\"\n\nAnd Reese sat in silence as Stacey spent the next 5 minutes getting the perfect angle of her cocktail, the perfect filter and then deliberated on the correct hashtags that wouldn't make her seem too needy but would also get the attention of famous food bloggers.\n\n\"Do you...do you blog?\"\n\n\"Me? Oh no no, my instagram is more of a personal diary. Well, public personal diary,\" she chortled. \"Are you on instagram?\"\n\n\"No, I've never had an instagram account,\" Reese replied.\n\nStacey looked mildly taken aback. \"Where do you put your photos?\"\n\nReese reached into his pocket and took out his Nokia 3310, grinning sheepishly, but annoyed at himself for feeling embarrassed.\n\n\"Wow...does that thing even have internet?\" Stacey asked, her grip on her own phone seeming to tighten as if the presence of an obsolete phone somehow threatened the smartphone's existence.\n\n\"No, I don't really feel a need to be online when I'm out and about. I don't need the distrac-\" \n\nStacey's attention was back on her phone, her thumbs furiously typing out a message.\n\n\"Are you...telling someone about my phone?\" Reese asked, frowning at her.\n\n\"Oh my mate was just wondering how the date was going,\" she replied, waving her free hand. Suddenly her phone started ringing. \"Oh my gosh sorry Reese, just gotta get this.\" She snapped the phone to her ear. \"Yes? OMG really? Do you need help? I can be there in 10, ok see you soon.\"\n\nStacey turned to Reese grimacing. \"I'm sooo sorry, Reese, that was my bestfriend, she's just been in a car accident and needs me to come help her. You don't mind do you?\"\n\n\"No, its fine. Hope she's ok,\" said Reese, but Stacey was texting before he'd even finished his sentence.\n\nRelief flooded through him the moment she left. The waiter came over with a bill for an expensive cocktail that still sat on the table untouched.\n\"Bloody users...\" muttered Reese, vowing to never go on a blind date again.", "Eyes locked \nStaring past infinity \nI wonder \n \nAm I the user \nOr am I being used \n \nI won't know \nFor my eyes are not focused \n \nI have to know this \nSo I said \n\"Are you a user?\" \n \nShe stared past me \nNodded left \nThen right. It \nWas a nod \nOf disapproval \n \nShe reached out her hand, right \nI took it \nThe right hand, holding mine tight \nAnd the left, her cane. \n \nWas she blind? \n\nEdit: formatting.", "The chill of the winter air in the evenings contrasted by the warmlit interior of Nunzio's italian restaurant invitingly led me inside. I was eager to meet Alyssa, i had heard her in passing from my friend's wife about her, as a result they set-up a blind date. My stomach was in my throat with anticipation. The waiter led me to the reservated table. Past the fireplace. Past the couples and the families all eating their penne and pizza.\n\nAll the way past to a small hallway that led to their balcony. As she gestured to my table number i realised why we were placed outside. She was a user. \n\nWhy can't i have a normal blind date for once\n, i thought\n\nAs i sat down the only two lights filled the patio a floor to ceiling window that let the fireplace light fill the frozen balcony and the light of the other users crowded around their phones brightness for warmth as a gust of air blew of one of their hats. Leaving them completely unphased.\n\n\"Uh.... hello?\"\nI said fumbling for the menu.\n\n\"Oh... hi you must be James. Nice to meet you m8\"\n\nShe just said m 8 not mate. Fucksake users. Absolutely addicted.\n\n\"I dont know if Harry's wife told you but im a 'non-user'.\"\n\n\"Oh you mean Jess? She kinda made a point of only telling me your first name.\"\nshe stated \n\"dw about it im sure it wont be a problem.\"\n\nShe did make a clear observation. \n\n\"So what are you having?\"\n\"Here's the menu\" \"just let me know what you want\"\n\n\"Haha. I actually have the menu on here\" she gestured to her phone without here eyes moving away from her screen.\n \"Yeah im..... going to have the vegetarian vermicelli and mushroom pasta\"\n\n\"Alright i might have a chicken parmasan\"\nI said \n\"With a side of chips, ill just flag the waiter through the window\"\n\n\"Actually thats just one way glass Ive been here before, i realised when i was taking a photo of my food\"\n\n\"Oh I'll be right back. I will go see if i can order\"\n\n-------\n\n\"And i walked out of the restaurant, remind me to never let you set me up on a date again\"\n\nHarry sat shocked, his words failing to connect into a sentence.\n\n\"What.... the..... hell\"\nHe mumbled \n\n\"Oh dont take it personally i just didnt connect with her, im sure shes wonderful to your wife\"\n\n\"Mate, my wife.... always says m8 and dw aloud. I took her to that restaurant for our first date. She is a user\"\n\nAnd it was at that point that i hurriedly excused myself to his bathroom where i climbed out the window before he got his new and polished double barrelled shotgun.\n\n----------\nThank you the writing prompt have a good day", "He brushed off the last bits of snow off his jacket as he stepped into the bar.\n\nHe was reaching that critical age beyond which the usher stopped asking for IDs. It was one less hassle but it was also a realization.\n\nIt was a long time since he had done this. He nervously checked his watch; the only bit of information he got about his blind date was to 'be on time'.\n\nHabit made him step into the non-users section. The live band was playing an acoustic version of 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' and that gave him memories. He scanned the booths for the lady in the red jacket; that's all he had to go on for identification. A phone call would have been simpler; but he was taking things the old fashioned way.\n\nAs his eyes went around the last booth, a disappointment settled in. He hoped that she might have been late; he hoped that she was walking through the doors even as he checked his watch yet again; he hoped that she was not a user.\n\nBut he had to make sure.\n\nHe traced his steps back to the other side into the users section and he knew it as soon as he entered. There was a set of eyes gazing upon him with intent. She had that deceptive half-smile of a mind that let on less than it knew. Her eyes lit up and she put up her hand to signal him toward the booth.\n\nReluctantly, he walked towards her, making up the words in his mind to cancel the date as gentle as possible but to also let her know that he was a non-user.\n\nShe still had her gaze fixed upon him, eyes tracking the path that he traced across the room.\n\nHe came up to her and she opened her mouth.\n\n\"I'm sorry, can we go sit in the non-users section? I wasn't sure if you were a user or not and figured this was the least offensive of the two options.\"" ]	4
	[WP] Twenty-five years after the last of the Bombs fell...	[ "Twenty-five years after the last of the Bombs fell, the radiation still lingers. Babies come out crippled. Survivors moan, maimed and in pain. So much blood has been spilled, the road is covered in red dust. It's always dark. Dark clouds and dark skies. Does the sun even exist anymore? Or did it die with our hopes and dreams?\n\nI used to stand in the doorway and watch as people dragged their bloated bodies across the ground to...I never learned to where they were going. Probably to dig their graves. \n\nNow I am too weak to watch. I can no longer stand. So I lay in my cot until my body is now covered in bed sores.\n\nI hear shots. Shouts. Coming closer. I look up and see a soldier over me.\n\n\"Have mercy on me,\" I plead.\n\nHe understands. He nods and pulls the trigger.\n", "You’re too young to remember before the bombs aren’t you? Well I am growing old but not so much that I can’t tell you how they changed our world.\n\nTo our surprise none of the bombs that fell were radioactive (What’s radiation? It’s like an awful, invisible force that poisons everything it touches.) The culmination of years of industrial espionage and secret governmental organisations working unheeded by their opponents meant all radioactive material was removed from those goliaths of destruction. Of course that doesn’t mean there wasn’t any damage, major cities were leveled and the rest of the country peppered with craters. People survived though and now a quarter of a century later life flourishes everywhere. The once dusty and gaping, dead holes in the landscape are filled with plants and in many cases provide burrows for animals that were being forced to extinction by the relentless march of the concrete cities. We live more harmoniously with the land than we ever did before the bombs fell. Like many others I lost people during the bombings, my friends in New York, grandparents in London. Fortunately my parents were dead long before the war started. However despite all these losses I truly believe we are better off for the bombs that fell. I know there are some that would not agree with me, many still mourn the loss of the World That Was but it is clear that while we weren’t killing off nature, for nature is cyclical and would never be destroyed, we were killing ourselves. Resources diminished year by year, oil prices rising, riots in the street, the spread of apathy. All that is gone now. I have my house and I have my farm, it’s simple but now humanity has learned to live with only what it needs rather than a relentless frenzy of greed.\n\nYou truly are growing up in a better world than the one that came before, but getting me talking won’t prevent me from forgetting that it is your turn to clean out the hen coop. Off you go!\n", "Morning again. At least, that was what my body clock was telling me. It had become increasingly hard to tell since the last great war. Many wars had come before but it would be hard to believe that any could ever claim the name of 'Great War' ever again.\n\nI rolled over inside my shabby old tent. Years of nuclear storms and intense wind had ripped holes in my, what was once blue, but now a near shade of brown, portable home and every time I had taped them back up.\nIt had been a fairly calm night, nothing too intense weather wise and no signs of any other life in my vicinity. Thank fuck for that, I thought as I packed up my sleeping gear.\nAs I slumped out of the tent, a cool breeze wafted through what I assumed must have once been a dense forest. Small stumps of once mighty trees and vegetation that before thrived in the lush forest, now grey instead of green, littered the area around me. It looked as though a volcano had coated the area in ash, stretching for miles and miles. To my east, a lone tree stood, petrified, mangled and contorted in such a way that 25 years ago no one would have even called it a tree.\n\nI must be getting close.\nBack west there would be nothing like this.\nBack west it's a miracle anything survived.\nBut I did.\n\nLoading up the last of my things, I picked up my shotgun, did up my belt and holster and heaved my backpack onto my shoulders. Years of carrying it had caused my skin to harden and strengthened my back, it was almost as though I felt odd without the backpack.\nI looked around the desolate, empty, rotting forest once more before setting off, following east on my compass.\n\n-\n\nThe next few hours went by without thought, as they often do now. When I first set off the constant walking through desolate wasteland became boring and to a point nearly drove me insane. Before I knew it I was venturing out of the forest and back into desert. Flat sand stretched out over the horizon, a mix of yellow, grey and black from the dust created by thousands of civilisations being scorched and disintegrated. Combined with the limited light from the sun, endeavoring to shine through the obsidian clouds above, these nuclear deserts were the darkest places I had ever seen.\n\nPerfect habitat for them, better keep my eyes peeled.\n\nChecking the clip of my full-auto shotgun and quickly palming over my holstered colt pistol, I pressed on into the gloom. The air always felt tight and humid in these deserts, but occasionally a strange stab of ice cold would whip through the air, keeping me alert.\nThe further I walked into the dismal desert, the closer the air got, until I was engulfed in a shroud, unlike fog or mist. No, this was a nuclear haze, particles of dust and small debris somehow kept afloat, still in the air, by the storms above. My geiger counter shreiked and clicked, promting me to pull down my gas mask and ready my gun. Thunder rumbled and echoed all around me, as if it came from all directions. I had heard before of nuclear storms coming close to the ground before but this took it to a new level, I was completely swallowed by a great abyss of cloud. Silent flashes of blue and green struck through the grey smog, the lightning from the storm, surely.\nNothing could be surviving out here.\nThe thunder was almost constant now, coming from all directions and the haze was becoming toxic, I could smell the acid through my mask.\nI raised my left arm to shield my mask from the previously still fragments, now being vigorously whipped about by the storm. \n\nIn the distance I could see a figure, a person.\nI hoped it wasn't too late to help them, they looked alone and for someone without my experience that was a death wish.\nAs I pushed through, the figure became clearer and larger until finally I came to it. I stopped dead. This was no person. How did I not see this coming? Hope had betrayed me once more. \n\nMy geiger counter screeched so harshly this time that it stopped. \n\nDead silence. \n\nThe storm around had all but stopped, save the flashes of the blue and green in the distance and the dark shroud that covered me and the figure, which appeared to darken. \nThe figure was at least a foot taller than me, coated in a black, oily substance that oozed off it's body. It had long lanky arms and legs with sharp, jagged claws. \nIt was still. So very still.\nThe clicking, screeching sound attacked my ears once more. My hand fumbled down to my geiger counter, my eyes fixed on the creature, my hand slicing past the smashed glass of the counter over to the off switch. But it was already off. The clicking was coming from in front of me, echoing all around the emptiness of the storm.\nA high pitched ringing set into my ears and I began to feel dizzied.\nSweat and dust dripped from my brow and blood dripped from my hand.\nThe clicking grew louder as the creature slowly turned to face me. \nMy finger crept over to the trigger of my shotgun. \n\nI had not come this far for nothing.\n\n-" ]	3
	[WP] A horror movie where you are trying to escape the true horror: Your stupid ass friends who keep dragging you into danger.	[ "The screaming and running was driving me nuts. Why won't this dumb bitch die?! I ask myself. Erica ran by the bookcase for the fourth time, shaking it around. It took me 3 hours to get away from her last time. Hiding behind it in a dug out section of walk I held my breath while the former groundskeeper-turned-troll/ogre/monster? chased her down.\n\nErica shrieked again. The troll gargle roared and I could hear thrashing with breaking wood. Finally. I swung open the bookcase and immediately albeit quietly ran down the stairs to the side door of the mansion. No way was I opening the big ass creaky doors at the front. \n\nJust as I'm going around the corner I get hit head on. I choke down a scream. It was Mark.\n\n\"Oh god, Danny you're alright! Where's Erica?\" \n\n\"Upstairs with Mr. Sissle. We need to get out. Now.\" Mark's face fell and he looked up wildly.\n\n\"We have to get her man! Come on!\" Mark brandished his baseball bat. For fucks sake did he ever put that damn thing down? The idiot grabbed my scrawny shoulder and before I could resist I was being shoved back upstairs. \n\nMr. Sissle was still ravaging the library where he cornered Erica. I didn't even have a weapon! Mark never thought of anything beyond baseball and Erica. \"You got my back bro?\" He raised his bat up and looked at me expectantly. I put my best face on.\n\n\"Yeah man. Always.\" We nodded, I got behind Mark and he ran in, screaming and flailing his precious piece of aluminum. I just stood there long enough to make sure Sissle knew what was happening. Within a moment a pustule covered, over muscled arm swept and broke Mark's legs. \n\n\"Help me Dan!\" He cried. I was already in the kitchen downstairs headed to the side door. His screams cut out when the second floor shook from a massive strike. \n\nI paused in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of liquor and a rag. Couldn't be too careful with the gardener outside. I opened the side door to escape and was greeted with sunset. I ran out back checking the lawn and tree line. Nothing there. \n\nThe car was insight, the keys should be inside... \"Danny! Come on we have to leave!\"\nMotherfucker! It was Brittany! She was standing in front of the greenhouse obviously trying to run away from the former gardener, now a hulking mass of plant and insect parts. \"I have the keys!\"\n\nShe held them up in the air... Just as a plant tentacle came down from behind. You stupid fucking idiot! Brittany screamed for help and managed to stab the tentacle with her heel. She got up, grabbed the keys and ran right towards me. \n\nI was already at the car. She ran to the passenger side. \"What are you doing? Unlock it and drive!\"\n\n\"We have to kill it! It'll get someone else.\" I stared at her blankly. I lit my Molotov cocktail I had made. \n\n\"You're the volleyball star right? Throw and burn that thing!\" In one move I shoved the incendiary in her hand and snatched the keys from the other. \n\nThe gardener lumbered towards us on insect legs. Brittany ran a few steps and hurled the bottle... Hitting a moss covered arm. The flames barely took. Brittany turned with a 'I did it!' Face. \n\n\"Sorry Brit!\" I turned the key and sped out of the driveway as the creature lunged at her. I stayed on the main road. Okay, so Mark and Erica was taken by Sissle, Brit by Mrs. Meck, John by the baby dolls... Was there anyone else? \n\n\"Stop!\" A ragged man stumbled into the road. The car lurched as I hit the brakes and swerved. He banged on my door. \"Sherriff Howe! Out... Danny?\" Fuck my life.\n\nI heard something coming through the forest. I locked eyes with the officer.\n\n\"Nope!\" I hit the gas and saw in the mirror a freakishly large mole tear into the sheriff. To a peaceful vacation at home here I come." ]	1
	[WP] You are a genie, different from the others. Other genies revel in the twisted outcomes of their wishes, but you work hard to make sure your wishes come through as intended. Or at least... you try to.	[ "As long as there have been humans, there have been genies. The very first human cried out a wordless desire for the sun to rise again, a simple request from a scared soul. A sacred, primal desire which gave birth to the first Djinn. The kindest Djinn. As humanity aged their desires became more selfish, the desire for power, the wish to see enemies destroyed, overpowering lust each twisted wish spawned twisted Djinn and as such their characters too were selfish and cruel and vicious. A wish made to one of these such creatures would result in disaster. A wish to posses another in the most carnal sense would end in disease. A wish for money would end in poverty or worse, death at the hands of a thief. A wish to break the natural end of death produced horrific, rotting shades of those snatched from their rest. \nHowever if the wish was made to the first Djinn it would produce a favourable result because the Djinn did not see the twisted underbelly of humanity as the others did. Those others who saw their own reflection, their own creation in this dark place and struck out against it. Instead human innocence made the Djinn’s wish granting gentler, a soft caress instead of a smiting blow. A wish for power would result in mastery of the self, a power greater than dominion over others and yet not always precisely what the wisher desired. The Djinn may have been more innocent, more caring towards humanity but it still had it’s own opinions and therefore granted the wish in the way it thought would be best for the human, regardless of their desire.\n\nso this went a wee bit tangential and isn't humorous as the prompt suggests but either way I hope you enjoy reading it and any CC is welcome\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Fantasy and Science Fiction collide as an intergalactic empire descends upon a world of dwarves, elves, orcs, dragons and other fantasy creatures.	[ "\"Brother Maynard, why have you called the fleet out of the Warp? Acadia will fall if we do not reinforce it.\"\n\nBrother Maynard looked at Decurion Mikael. \"The sensors, Brother, they said that there was life upon this world. The psychics too.\"\n\n\"That, my dear Decurion, is impossible. Three frigates glassed this world not two hundred years ago in order to purge to minions of chaos from its surface. Nothing can live, let alone grow here for the next million millennia.\" The brother moved towards the sensors even so. Looking at them, he turned back to the Decurion.\n\n\"My apologies, Decurion, for doubting your word. Truly, the powers of Chaos must be powerful to bring life back into existence here.\"\n\n\"What shall we do Brother?\"\n\nBrother Maynard looked at him quietly. \"Glass it again, and pray to the Emperor that this time it works.\"\n\n\nOn the planets surface, species warred over command on the minor resources that the planet held. Orc, elf, dwarf, dragons, humans, goblins, djinn, and countless others warred in a never ending cycle of violence. Brother Maynard looked on a bit wistfully as the battleships unleashed their batteries upon the planet, eradicating all the heretical filth from its surface. It would have been a truly glorious fight to die in, for the Emperor and the Empire.", "We find our heroes on a riveting adventure to retrieve the Chalice of Healing to revive the dying king of the largest empire in the realms. They are travelling the final stretch of road to the Crypts of Doom where the Chalice is rumoured to be guarded by a fearsome Bone Dragon and it's minions.\n\nThey are tired but eager for the fight as it has been a rather uneventful trip with few side quests.\n\n\"Do you have to introduce us every time?\"\n\nIt's important for the new readers!\n\n\"Fine, can we get on with it?\"\n\nOf course.\n\nOur adventurers plod along the cobblestone road, enjoying a cool midday breeze that brushes away the late spring heat.\n\n\"Better than a rainstorm,\" Paladin Morgoth said, itching at the armour around his neck as it chafed, \"should have bought that mule in town.\"\n\nHe grumbled the last words but everyone heard him.\n\n\"It wasn't worth it, we've been over this,\" Festus, the Dwarf, spat out. He waddled along on short legs and was beyond tired of the much taller Paladin and his whining.\n\n\"We're almost there anyway,\" Lorathi, the Elf of course, said as she pointed up to the mountain peaks. The stairs won't be more than a few hours from here.\n\n\"Would have been easier with a mule,\" Morgoth said, more quietly this time.\n\n\"Morgoth a little bitch.\"\n\nEveryone chuckled as Morgoth turned red and sputtered at Kelraz. The troll had just finally started to understand humour and was using it to his full advantage.\n\nMorgoth didn't say anything more though, the troll and his enormous club were more than enough to dissuade a retort. Instead he sullenly continued walking.\n\nBarely a mile later both Lorathi and Remin Woodcaller, the Wood Elf, both held up a hand. Remin quickly disappeared into the forest side while Lorathi readied her bow. There was a slight crunch of wood underfoot and the party spun to face the new threat.\n\nAn orc burst from the tree line and all the members raised their weapons and let out roaring battle cries as...the orc ran right past them.\n\nThen another, and another. Kobolds and goblins weren't far behind. From the mountain a devastating screech filled the air as a terrific Bone Dragon lifted off from the peak and began a southerly flight. On the stairs that were barely visible hundreds of zombies and crypt warriors streamed down towards the road.\n\n\"What that?\" Kelraz pointed with his club at the sky. A fireball stretched almost as far as they could see, descending towards the earth. They slowly began to retreat backwards and then broke into a full sprint alongside their former enemies.\n\nThey ran until they could not anymore, their legs would no longer carry them with all their weapons and armour and packs. They stopped for a moment and turned. The fire in the sky had disappeared but was replaced by a gray shape that was leagues in length. Smaller shapes began to break off from the large one and fill the air with a shrieking noise as they scattered in many directions with immense speed.\n\nWill our heroes find out who these newcomers are? Will they be friend...or will they be foe?\n\nFind out next week, on -\n\n\"What the fuck is going on!?\"\n\nThat's rude, you'll just have to wait for next week. Like everyone else." ]	2
	[WP] It's a zombie-apocalypse, but instead of millions of slow zombies, there are only a few around. However, they are strong, fast, and incredibly hard to kill...	[ "The blood drained from my face as I turned off the news. There was a zombie in my town. I had thought the military had finally captured the last of them, why are more still popping up? I thought about calling in to work, but surely they would have seen the news as well. I resolutely set about boarding up my windows and doors, not that it would do any good if that thing wondered over in my direction.\n\nZombies first appeared several months ago. There weren't many of them, but the infection was transmitted through bodily fluids, and sometimes the clean up crews miss some. The infection changes them on an atomic level, making them faster, stronger, and more durable than any human could possible be. Originally, the military tried to fight them, however, they quickly realized that bullets, rockets, even tanks couldn't stop the things. It took surface to surface missiles to take them down, unfortunately, that was usually rather messy, and every drop of blood unaccounted for could spell disaster. The military eventually developed a kind of electrical net, which shocked them and disabled their ability to control their body long enough to be scooped up into a solid metal container and shipped off to god knows where.\n\nOur twin saving graces were the aggression of the zombies, and the weakness of the virus itself without a host. The virus dies off within hours without a human to feed off of, so common disease transmitters like mosquitos didn't effectively spread the disease. The zombies themselves were far too aggressive for their own good. While the infection did transfer by bodily fluids, it took a few hours to fully convert a host. The zombies though, wouldn't stop until their host was long dead. They'd rip them into pieces so small that they wouldn't be able to revive as an undead.\n\nWell, most of the time. Unfortunately, sometimes a body survives contact with a zombie, and a few hours later, the cycle starts up again. Thankfully, the military is usually already on location to deal with the first zombie.\n\nNone of it explains how this zombie got here. The last outbreak was nearly two weeks ago, and on the other side of the country.\n\nCRASH\n\nI froze as a booming crash echoed throughout my house, coming from the back door. Could it be...? My eyes dart wildly around the room to the only window I've yet to board up, and without a moments further hesitation, I sprint forwards and crash through the window.\n\nI stifle a scream as glass shreds into me, cutting me open in several dozen places at once and blood pours out of me. There's no time to worry about that though, I break into a sprint, as far away from my house as I can. I make it 100 feet down the road and duck into an alley. I look back towards my house just in time to see the front door explode outwards in a spray of splinters. I take off down the alleyway. That thing might have wandered to my house, but it had no reason to chase me without knowing where I was. It would most likely lock on to one of my neighbours. They were relatively stupid, but had an unerring sense of where the nearest living human was.\n\nI darted down one alley, crossed the street on the other side, and into the next. Running another 200 feet down this street, I turned into the nearest office building and hid inside, thankfully the door was unlocked. I winced in pain from the glass still stuck inside me, and then had to stop myself from doing it again when it made the pain worse. No ambulance would come until that thing was dealt with and the subsequent quarantine was lifted. I climbed up towards the top floor, there was usually a special steel \"safety room\" with roof access for CEOs. I only made it around halfway before the dizziness started. I needed a break. I stepped out of the stairway into a nearby office and looked out the window. Another man running in the streets? I guess he's the one being chased now... he's running towards me though, I hope he doesn't lure the zombie towards me. Wait... HOLY SHIT.\n\nThe figure below looks up, and leaps, clearing all the way up the fourth floor and crashing through the window.\n\nMy eyes widen. There's no way. How was I still the closest person? There was nobody else in this office, it was coming up. I sprinted back into the staircase, climbing the stairs faster than I ever have before. I could hear that thing, just a few floors below me, catching up fast. I couldn't keep this up, there were too many floors left. I broke out onto the twelfth floor, turning left, and running down the hallway. I just had to find.... THERE! An elevator! I ran up to it, hitting the call elevator button as quickly as I could. I didn't stop until the doors opened in front of me, but I could hear that thing gasping in the staircase, closing in. I ran inside, hitting the first button I could see, for the floor above me. The doors closed in front of me, and I felt just a moment of peace. \n\nThat moment was immediately ruined as the elevator started to move up, and the doors in front of me started to be forced open. Oh no no no no no! The elevator clears the door, but lurches suddenly as my pursuer jumps up and grabs hold of the elevator. It barely makes it up to the next floor, and the doors open. The cable is straining to stay connected from the force below it, and the metal floor begins to warp as it breaks apart the paneling below my feet. I hit the button for the bottom floor, and jump out of the elevator, running once again for the stairs. I hear the elevator begin to descend and breathe a sigh of relief. It won't kill that thing, but it will buy me the time I need here.\n\nI make it up to the safe room without incident, and it looks like it's my lucky day. It's unoccupied. Boy would it have sucked to run into a scared CEO refusing to open the door. Thankfully, everyone skips work on zombie day. Nobody wants to be in the streets.\n\nI enter and seal the door, watching as the two dozen heavy steel bolts slide into place. I catch a reflection of myself in the smooth finish on the metal, I look like I'm in worse shape than the zombie. I look around the room and find a small first aid kid. Surprising, usually any wound suffered around a zombie was grounds for evisceration to prevent transformation. I wouldn't question it though. I treated my wounds the best I could, but before I could get halfway through, a resonant boom echoed through the room. The zombie must have found me. Sure enough, another one followed shortly after. I looked around the room one last time in futility. There was no weapon here that could fend that thing off. I just had to wait and bide my time while the military found us. At least it wasn't going after anyone else as long as it was after me. I pulled out my phone to distract myself, taking a deep, shaky breath. It had been nearly 3 hours since the first sighting, Which meant the military should be arriving any moment now. I flipped over to my favourite local news site... Yeah, There it was, The military was en route and already in the city.\n\nI was distracted by a new noise. A deep groaning sounds. My head snapped up, and I walked towards the door. The zombie on the other side crashed into it again, and I the groaning sounded again. I realized with terror that the metal bolts holding the door in place were showing stress marks and bending. How? These rooms were supposed to be zombie proof! The roof! I needed to get up on top of the roof. From there... I'd figure that out once I was there. I looked up to where I knew the hatch upwards was, and my heart sank. No. This can't be right. My eyes scan every inch of the ceiling. It was built with no hatch. This was an old model room, before helicopter rescues were a standard.\n\nCrash.\n\nThump.\n\nGroan.\n\nI back into the corner, desperate to put any distance between myself and that... THING. This is it. I'm going to die. I close my eyes, and with one final tear of metal on metal, the door blasts off the bolts and crashes against the wall to my left. I break down into tears as a loud wail pierces my ears. I take a deep breath as I wait for the claws and teeth to rip into me.\n\nI release it, and take another deep breath.\n\nand another. I slowly open my eyes, coming face to face with the zombie. I scream, as men seem to pour into the room. They're shouting something at me, but I can't make out what they're saying. What are they doing, don't they see the zombie right there?!\n\nThe zombie lurches away from me, and only then do I realize that it was entangled in a net, being pulled back out of the room. I was... safe? My screaming dies down to a small whimper as the men in the room seem to by calling somebody forwards. I start to realize what's happened. These were soldiers. They saved me. One of them is asking me a question, the new one they called forwards. I recognize him as a medic.\n\n\"Can you stand?\" He asks. I nod, and jump up to my feet. I immediately go dizzy and almost fall over. The medic and another soldier reach forward to hold me up. The soldier throws me over his shoulder as we leave. I was... alive? Really alive?\n\n\"Don't worry about that thing. We'll get you fixed up\" the soldier mumbles over his shoulder. If I could talk, I'd thank him, but I just nod instead. He leads me down another elevator, into a helicopter waiting on the street, carefully landed between the buildings. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the zombie being dragged into a modified APC, and the hatch seal behind him, still in the net. My eyelids begin to close as I listen to the soldiers talk and the medic treats my wounds. That can't be right... Why are they talking about \"the other locations\"? There can't be more, can there? There's not supposed to be more..\n\nBlackness takes me." ]	1
	[WP] All five living former US presidents get together for one last score... one last job...	[ "Laying on a leopard skin futon, saxophone in hand, donning sunglasses regardless of it being 10 o'clock at night and also indoors, the cell phone in Bill Clinton's pocket buzzed. It was Barack. \"...uhhhh... Bill, I've booked you a flight to DC. Uh... We've got work to do.\"\n\nFlipping the device shut, grabbing a cigar, and heading downstairs, Bill passed by Hillary's room. Peeking into the dark room, he sees the woman rocking back and forth in the corner of the room muttering \"you're fired\" over and over again. \"You ok, Hillary?\" a confused Bill asked.\n\nSnapping quickly around, she blurted out \"OH! Yes, -uh I'm completely fine. What's wrong?\"\n\n\"Barry needs me in DC. I'll be back tomorrow night.\"\n\nNoticing the cigar in his hand, Hillary asks the former president to \"keep that thing in his mouth\" which resulted in nervous laughter from both parties.\n\nNow 3 AM, Bill walks into the gang's usual meeting place, a rib shack. Obama waits by the door, hood over his head. Carter and H.W. are in the corner playing a game of chess, and George Jr. is digging into an order of ribs.\n\nCalling the group together, Obama explains why he called everyone to the capital.\n\n\"Gang... it's uh... time to do what we have to do.\"\n\nBill knew this would come someday. Reluctantly, he grabbed the mask hanging up on the wall and said goodbye to the older man at the counter, walking out with the rest of the group.\n\nThe large blades felt good in his hand. The bright light shining in through the mask was the only thing he could see other than a shade of shiny dark red. Some laughed, some were silent in anticipation. This had been a long time coming, and looking the other 4 presidents in the eye, getting unanimous nods of approval, they all clamped their scissors down.\n\nThe crowd roared. Bill was extremely grateful that the children's hospital let them all cut the opening ribbon, albeit the tacky choice of wearing superhero masks.", "“Seriously, Jimmy?” Barack Obama complained. “You had to kill all of the Secret Service agents guarding us? You couldn’t have just, you know, knocked them out or something?” \n\nJimmy Carter pursed his lips angrily. “I couldn’t trust them. They’d turn on us. Inform the fuzz about us. Maybe even kill us. You think this is my first rodeo? All of these humanitarian relief missions I’ve been doing, they’ve been to lull them into a false sense of security. I even faked a bout of dehydration, just to get them to underestimate me.” He gestured at the ten dead Secret Service agents around him, not one of them showing any visible marks. “And as you can see, it worked.”\n\nBill Clinton coughed. It hadn’t been his idea to gather in George W. Bush’s basement – that had been Barack’s – and it certainly hadn’t been his idea to kill all the secret service agents, but he would take the cards he was dealt. \n\n“Okay, people,” Bill said. “We’re not going to play the blame game here. We all know why we’re here.” He laid the file folder on the table. “The one secret that they even managed to keep from us.”\n\n“Roswell?” George Herbert Walker Bush Sr. asked.\n\n“The JFK assassination?” Barack asked. \n\n“Operation Ajax,” Jimmy said decisively. “It’s got to be Operation Ajax. They’re hiding the truth from us. We can’t trust them, not a single one of them!”\n\nBill stared at him. “Everyone knows about Operation Ajax already, Jimmy. And, no, it’s not Roswell or the JFK assassination either. It’s the Philadelphia Experiment. The military discovered the secrets of teleportation in the 1940s and then hid it, supposedly for the public good. Gerry figured it out – why do you think that two people tried to assassinate him in the space of a month? – but he kept it secret to preserve his life. But after he died in 2006, I got sent a letter from him and so did the rest of you. I tried to get my wife into office to expose the secret, but…” He looked at Barack meaningfully.\n\n“Didn’t you just say we’re not playing the blame game here?” Obama pointed out.\n\nGeorge Walker Bush Jr. put up a hand calmly. “Excuse me, but why is this so important? I mean, yes, it’s sad that Gerry got shot at because of this, but he didn’t die from that, did he? Obviously, teleportation was set aside for a reason.” \n\n“Yeah, you’re all about good reasons, Mr. I’ll-Invade-Iraq-For-Its-Oil,” Jimmy retorted.\n\n“There were weapons of mass destruction there!” George yelled. \n\n“My God, you actually believed that?” his father asked incredulously.\n\nBarack banged his fist on the table loudly. “Gentlemen, please! We can’t have this team devolving! We are not Congress! We are the only five living people to have survived the presidency! And we can do anything! I’d like you all to turn your attention to the files in front of you.”\n\nEveryone opened the file folder in front of them to a picture of CIA headquarters. They turned the page and saw another picture of a copper sculpture resembling a scroll with letters engraved on it. “George, if you’d be so good as to tell us about the next stage of the plan,” Bill said calmly.\n\n“Well,” George W. Bush said, “there are obviously weapons of mass destruction at CIA headquarters, right? So we can ask Donny to send in the army and –”\n\nHis father coughed. “I think that Bill was actually referring to me, given that I was CIA director for a time. This sculpture is called Kryptos. The sculptor figured out the truth behind the Philadelphia Experiment and hid the evidence beneath CIA headquarters. Then he created this sculpture to provide clues. He provided exact coordinates to the evidence he had gathered, right under everyone’s nose.”\n\nHe turned the page and showed them the three present solutions to the various sections of Kryptos. The second solution clearly referenced the Philadelphia Experiment, with it mentioning invisibility, giving the coordinates in question, and even blatantly saying that it was buried out there somewhere.\n\n“That is precisely correct,” Bill said. “I brought all of you together because you have the skills necessary to find the evidence and bring it to the attention of the American people. George – I mean, the older George – as the former CIA director knows a thing or two about CIA protocols. I’m the man with the plan. Jimmy is our wetworks man; as you can see –” He gestured at the dead Secret Service agents. “–one of his specialties is killing people silently, swiftly, and without leaving any invisible marks. Barack will use his popularity to ensure that we can get the information out to the general public without getting whacked.” \n\nGeorge W. Bush raised his hand again. “But why am I here?”\n\nBill shrugged. “I guess someone needs to hold the shovel.” \n\n“Why do you hate me so much?” George asked peevishly.\n\n“BECAUSE IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN AL IN THAT SEAT, YOU BASTARD!” Bill shouted, his face going red with rage. \n\n“Enough,” Barack said, putting up his hands in a placating manner. “I’m sure that we’ll find something useful for George to do. Maybe he could…uh…he could…well, we’ll improvise, all right? For now, let’s look at the next page in the file.\n\nEveryone turned to the next page of the file. It showed multiple networks of tunnels underneath the Washington DC area, coded in different colors for the levels of secrecy that was used for each tunnel. A tunnel leading from the CIA headquarters to Dulles International Airport was denoted to carry the highest level of secrecy.\n\n“How’d you get this?” Bush Sr. asked. \n\n“I stole it off the Russians,” Jimmy said proudly. “Broke into the Kremlin, you know. Got to keep the infiltration skills sharp!” \n\nBill nodded. “Our plan is to gather the evidence, release it, and be in Beijing within twenty-four hours. There’s no way the Chinese will pass on an opportunity like this, and the government won’t risk nuclear war to get their hands on us. So we’re all agreed, then?”\n\nThere was silence in the room for a while.\n\n“I’ll gut anyone who refuses,” Jimmy said mildly, and everyone quickly raised their hands in agreement. \n\n“All right, then,” Bill said. “Pleasure doing business with you all. Jimmy, everything will check out with the agents.”\n\n“I’ll take care of everything,” he promised.\n\nFour of the ex-presidents filed out of the room, all of their faces but Jimmy’s registering some level of trepidation. \n\nBut George W. Bush stayed. He was furious that no one was taking him seriously. There had been weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. He was certain of it, and then there weren’t any, and could there be any other explanation but a conspiracy? Of course not! Everyone thought he was a fool. But he would show them. He would show them all. \n\nHe pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Hey, Donald,” he said. “I think that I have some information you might be interested in.”" ]	2
	[WP] Due to a teleporter error, there are now six exact copies of you. All of you collectively decide to start a band.	[ "We called ourselves the Duplicates, and then realized none of us, an original and six clones, knew how to play a different instrument, only the guitar.\n\n\"We can work with this. How about a guitar acapella?\"\n\n\"I'll sound like shit, #3,\" replied number #6. \"Since we only need once scientist for the paycheck, I'll suck it up and learn the bass.\"\n\n\"Wait, wait!\" The original rose his hand. \"I'm the one who created the teleport and the glitch which made you all. I deserve retirement!\"\n\nThe first clone shook his head. \"No, bro, no. There's six of us, one for each day of the week.\"\n\n\"That'll be too big a hassle to share information from one clone to another.\"\n\n\"But it's us.\"\n\n\"What's going to stop us from developing different habits and turning into a different person?\"\n\n\"We need to move our of our home, clone a seventh, and let him work for all eternity.\"\n\n\"That could work, except that we'll look just like him!\"\n\n\"Shit.\" All of them said at different intervals.\n\n\"Okay, how about we all work and we'll all play?\" asked #6.\n\n\"Ever heard of too much cooks in the kitchen? We'll all slack off and get nothing done.\"\n\nThe original pinched the bridge of his nose. \"Fine, you guys start the band and I'll bring the paychecks.\"\n\n\"That's not fair,\" #5 mumbled.\n\n\"It's not fair that you guys, fresh and new to the world, will have to work instead of living.\"\n\n\"You can quit.\"\n\n\"No, this teleporter's too important. You all know this.\"\n\nThe clones circled their creator and placed their hands on their shoulder. \"We'll come and help whenever you get stuck.\"\n\n\"Thank you, now scoot. I've got work to do.\"\n\nThe clones marched out of the room in single file, the last one, #4 stopped and turned. \"Chinese tonight or burgers?\"\n\n\"Both, we've got a lot of mouths to feed.\"", "A bolt of plasma jolted from one end to another of a tall tube. Particles inside of the tube start to clump together and form a humanoid shape. Soon, they form together into the one and only, Sirkellsworth. Teleportation had just been invented and only a few people were chosen to test it out by being transported from New York to Tokyo. He walked through the rest of the room only to be greeted by the engineer who build the machine. “Umm...Excuse me Sir, I need you to come with me for a minute.”\n\n\n“Oh god...What is it? Do I have an extra arm? Am I mutated?” He asked as he frantically searched his body for deformations. “Oh No! I caught the ugly didn’t I?” He yelled in a panic.\n\n\n“Um no sir” She awkwardly said, “Nothing is wrong with your body. The teleported worked exactly as designed.”\n\n\n“Oh thank god! Why did you scare me like that?” He said feeling quite relieved.\n\n\n“Just come with me. I think it will be better to show you what is wrong.” The engineer said as she led him to a back room. She opened the door only to show five people standing in a circle arguing.\n\n\n“Excuse me! Everyone!” She squeaked out. The five men continued to argue and ignore her. “Excuse me!” She said a little louder, still to no effect. “Will you…just...Oh my god. Oh captain my captain!” She yelled. They all froze and turned to look at her. Sirkellsworth could now see that the group of men were clones of himself. ‘As you can see...The teleported worked great, but we overlooked a few things and now there are five clones of you.”\n\n\n“Oh. my. God.” Sirkellsworth said out loud. “You know what this means?” He said on the border of screaming as he grabbed the small engineer by the shoulders, frightening her.\n\n\n“We could start a band!” One of the Sirkellsworth yelled as another one quickly slapped him on the head.\n\n\n“Shut it! You are ruining the moment!” The one who preformed the slapping yelled. The original Sirkellsworth, feeling a little beat because of the ruined moment, glared at the one who did the interrupting. Then back at the engineer.\n\n\n“Yes, we are going to start a band.” He said quite calmly.\n\n\n“Yes, I know” she said quite annoyed. “They haven’t talked about anything else for the past five hours. They, or rather you can’t come up with anything better than Me, Myself and I.”\n\n\n“AWWHH!” Three members of the group yell out.\n\n\n“There is now six of us! We can’t use a name that only implies three of us!” One of them complains.\n\n\n“Then why dont we call ourselfs Me, Myself and I and the three assholes?” Another one states as the two for the name laughs.\n\n\n“Well if I’m an asshole and you are a clone of me, then that makes you an asshole too now doesn't it?” \n\n\n“We’ve been through this! You are my clone! I’m not your clone!” He yells back as the rest of the clones stare at him.\n\n\nThe engineers eyes widen and in an attempt to stop this before it begins again says, “No! No! We aren’t going through this again! All of you are clones. The original one is right here.” As she points to Sirkellsworth.\n\n\nAll five of the Sirkellsworths burst out in laughter for a solid five minutes until one stops them and says “Miss, please. We already figured this out. I’m the original and we decided on the name of Kelly’s heros”\n\n\n“Kelly’s heros? You bunch sure as hell ain't my hero” The original Sirkellsworth said sarcastically. He looked over at the engineer to see she was giving him a deadly look.\n\n\n“Don’t encourage them...” She said through her teeth. He looked back at the group staring at him too.\n\n\n“Low blow man.”\n\n“Ya, not cool.”\n\n“You are my clone and I wont put up with you talking back to m--” One of the group tried to say until he got slapped again.", "I had simply wanted to be different. Though, I knew that I had no right to be. That was the life of a clone, one created by complete accident in an attempt to teleport. I existed to be someone else’s carbon copy, their living and breathing mirror. All the things that I liked weren’t decided by me, they had been written into my brain’s neural network. My memories were borrowed—or stolen—and I didn’t even have my own name.\n\nKyle 3. That’s what they called me because I wasn’t even the first clone nor the last one. I was simply one of the clones. Together, we took shifts going to school, a clone for every school day as the original could focus on his music. To him, high school was meaningless in comparison to music, which meant that I thought the same.\n\nSome clones tried to fight their love of music. They thought that this could be their identity, how they differentiated themselves. But science proved far too precise. We loved music. It enveloped us, pushed us forward, and only the original could dedicate his life to it. The rest of us Kyles were simply here to carry him through school.\n\nSo in secret, I joined a band. At first, it had been me relenting to science. By the second week, singing songs that I created, I no longer cared for science. My passion was simply a copy. My love wasn’t genuine. I didn’t care. The music was real. I danced with it, hitting sweet high notes and emotional low ones, caressing the sound with my voice until I had no more voice left to give.\n\nThen, one day, the original Kyle decided to come to school on the day I was supposed to. He had heard of the band he was supposedly in on Tuesdays and wanted to see for himself. He caught me as I had the mic to my lips, my eyes closed and my voice bellowing. With a single text message, he summoned me into the bathroom.\n\n“You look like you’re enjoying yourself, Number 3,” he said.\n\nI gulped. “It’s just a hobby.”\n\nHe shook his head, a slow smile spreading across his lips. “No it’s not. It’s a hobby for those fuckers playing the triangle. This is everything to me and unfortunately, that means to you too.”\n\nI nodded back. What point was there to lying to yourself?\n\n“Might I remind you that you don’t exist?” The original Kyle told me. “You’re a copy of me. Clones are illegal and the standard course of action in the case of accidental cloning is disposing of the accident.”\n\nA small lump welled inside my throat so that it blocked any words that I could say back. That wasn’t opinion. That was fact, a law created in order to manage any excess cloning. Honestly, it was out of pity for the clones, for the factories of cloned slaves that existed throughout the world.\n\n“Say it,” he told me, glaring.\n\nMy eyes fell to my shoes—Kyle’s shoes. “I’m just a copy,” I muttered. “I’m fake.”\n\n“And your music?”\n\nMy fingers clenched. “None of it is real. It’s borrowed.”\n\n“Good,” the original Kyle said and with a pat on my shoulder, he left. “Leave the bands. Focus on school. I’m the one taking all the risks here, letting you guys live.”\n\nI nodded after him, watching him turn the corner and disappear. It was true. Kyle had let us live when he shouldn’t have. We all owed him our lives, not just our lives, but our preferences, our looks, our talents—everything.\n\nTears came to my eyes, drowning the world. In the end, music wasn’t mine to create. I was simply borrowing Kyle’s rights. I wiped my eyes before leaving the bathroom. Suddenly, my breath caught. It was something Kyle had said, leave the bands. It had been plural.\n\nThe other clones had also joined bands and if we were the same, they too had crumpled pieces of papers in their pockets advertising this weekend's Battle of the Bands.\n\nAll six of Kyle’s clones were fake. We would all one day die, having never acquired the right to live. And if any part of us remained in this world, if any bit of us were real, it would be in our music. The original Kyle would be at the Battle of the Bands too in his own band which he spent every day of every week practicing for.\n\nAfter this, there would be no hiding our secret. Even if Kyle didn’t want to, we clones would be hunted down. But I already knew the decision every other clone had come to, because it was the one that I had made.\n\nI unclenched my fists and headed back to practice with my band.\n\n---\n\n---\n\n/r/jraywang for 200+ stories!\n" ]	3
	[WP] You live in a dimension where humanity and other intelligent life forms found a way to stop aging, perfected space travel, and stoped the heat death of the universe.	[ "It seems that most people are content with their lives being perfect as long as they never have to actually face the reality that others are being hurt as a result. As of my research team's literal universe-shattering discovery in 996 HE, this principle applies to humanity as a whole.\n\nThe idea behind it all is simple, really. Children learn that our universe is merely one of many in their elementary school classes, but nobody ever seems to care. Whether it's just dismissed as science fiction or the concept is too belittling for most to contemplate, I wouldn't know. What I do know, however, is that entropy levels seem to be local rather than on multiverse-wide, meaning that one man's heat death of the universe can easily become someone else's.\n\nWhile I won't get into the confusing scientific aspect of the project, I do wish to highlight some of its larger effects on society. Firstly, it is most certainly worth noting the impact on politics. Over the past 10 years, candidates across the galaxy have shifted towards more pro-scientific advancement stances, which makes sense considering the circumstances. Strangely enough, most solar economies seem to have improved since the announcement, too. Maybe due to increased impulse purchases? Again, I wouldn't know.\n\nI don't regret doing what I did, though. My team was assembled to reverse the heat death of the universe, and we did. The same thing would have happened to their universe if things were reversed, so what is there to regret? At the end of the day, one entire universe is being sacrificed for another, and besides, I won't be here when my world has to answer for their selfishness." ]	1
	[WP]It was a mystery how a city on the back of a colossus thrived so well. But now the founders are ready to reveal the secrets of how it was made and how it's run.	[ "I am corresponding with you today from the upper most heights of the Great Attarak, first of its name, the world famous Walking Colossus and home to some 500,000 citizens.\n\n\"It really is something,\" says Wendy Clurk, a homemaker and mother of two, living in the working class neighborhood of Lower Left Shank. \"What I like best is all the changing scenery. I'm a traveler by nature, I think, and living here you don't have to travel at all to see new sights. Every day! You wake up and look out and what's that? Nepal, probably. What's that? Ocean. What's that? Ocean again. Lots of ocean. The world is mostly ocean, turns out.\"\n\nFrom village to village, city to city, you hear similar stories. Citizens living in happy harmony with their wandering country. \n\n\"Makes you feel a bit big, doesn't it?\" Niles Makeesh tells me over tea. \"I'm not saying we want to start anything with all those other countries, mind you, but they're stuck in one spot, right? It's a totally different thing here on old Attarak. We want to jog up on say New Guinea and give a quick stomp stomp, what're they gonna do about it? By the time they've got their bearings and the jets are scrambled, we're off again, halfway to the Falklands or what have you. That's assuming New Guinea's got jets to scramble. I'm not sure they do.\"\n\nIt surely is a massive ace in the hole, so to speak, this colossal creature named Attarak. But how did this all come about, you may ask? How did these simple folks come to tame such an immense being? Answers are surprisingly hard to come by. \n\n\"It's nothing odd,\" says Viva Erth, leaning on the fence outside her wide, ranging property. \"Just friendship. Attarak's a good fella. He likes having us around. Nothing strange about that.\"\n\nWhen I press Erth on why exactly this almost godlike colossus deigns to allow human to live and work all along its body, she seems to become a bit defensive. \"See? Now, that's the attitude we're trying to avoid here on Attarak. That's a very stationary attitude. Like kindness's gotta come with a cost. You wouldn't understand. That's all. You still-Earthers wouldn't understand.\"\n\nErth isn't alone in feeling this way. Everywhere I go, I find little more than evasive answers and a sense that these good people are all carrying a chip on their shoulder. It isn't until I visit the famous Tillman Farms that I begin to understand why a straight answer is such a struggle. \n\nMorris Tillman is old. He may possibly be the oldest man living on Attarak. And the elderly here, just like the elderly down on still land, aren't half as concerned with the opinions of strangers.\n\n\"They're foolish,\" says Morris, pushing a bowl of hot stew across the table to me. \"Prideful. And stuck with the old mentality. Long as they've been here, they still think a bit like still-Earthers. But that's just the thing isn't it?\" His eyes twinkle. I find myself leaning forward, expecting some great insight or moment of self-clarity. \"It's not at all different here. It's just the same. Except Attarak walks around, so they're embarrassed about it.\"\n\nI sample the stew. It is earthy and delightful. \"Embarrassed about what?\"\n\n\"About bein' parasites,\" says Morris. \n\nI look up from the bowl. \"Come again?\"\n\nMorris smiles. You can tell this is a preferred talking point for him. \"Parasites! You don't see it? A half a million tiny parasites crawlin' up and down this great, big body, pullin' out the weeds, shaping the flesh, diggin' up the little, harmful critters Atta can't manage on his own. It's uh...whatsits...symbiosis. It's not a bad thing. Fair pay for a ride, I think. People don't like me sayin' that, but it's just that. Nothin' wrong with bein' a parasite, all things considered. And like I said, it's not any different than it is down there on still-Earth. Same thing. Parasites. At least here it's pretty mutual. Down there, I'm not so sure.\"\n\nI consider the stew that I have been enjoying. \"So something like this...this is made from things that have been growing on Attarak?\" Morris nods. I'm not sure why that hadn't occurred to me before.\n \nOn the journey back south, I feel that my opinion of these kind, simple people has been altered in ways I am not comfortable admitting. They seem...less human somehow. When a child, sticky with lunch, races up to meet me, I back away. I feel a very faint sense of revulsion.\n\nParasites. I can see it. Of course, I have seen the satellite images of Attarak before. The tiny specks, milling in the shadows. Like insects. Like an infestation.\n\nBy the time I reach the town of Right Heel, I am unsure of everything - except one thing. I know that we are not the same. \n\nWe are humans, dear reader. I can no longer say the same of the Attarakians with any confidence. \n\nMake of that what you will. " ]	1
	[WP] AI has evolved to the point where it has taken over almost every area of employable work on earth. Next stop is the creative industries. You are one of the last human writers fighting the good fight.	[ "First, the AI writers came for the romance authors. At that point, artificial was kind of a joke among writers. And honestly, most of us didn’t care about romance writers. \n\nLiterary data scientists built massive neural nets to read millions of romance novels and “write” jumbled pastiches of every bodice-ripper book it had devoured. A few trend pieces popped up, mocking the terrible prose and mocking romance writers in general. \n\nWe were sarcastic. We were smug. And we didn’t fight for the romance writers.\n\nThen, the AI writers came for the news. Most people didn’t even notice that. \n\nThe news had felt inhuman for a long time. For the most part, news was a category swamped with listicles and rewrites of other news stories with click-bait headlines based on other new stories. \n\nJournalism was a lot like a giant Reddit thread. All you had to do was be the first person to write the news and write “FIRST!” at the top of the thread. \n\nAI writers were very very very good at being first. We laughed about it. And we didn’t fight for the journalists.\n\nBy the time AI writers started to make other AI writers, it was already too late.\n\nSuddenly, it wasn't humans making the algorithms that could write books. All those first-generation, human-created AI writers were a joke. The AI writers could make better AI writers than humans ever could.\n\nWhy didn’t we step in? Because the AI writers were hiding! \n\nThe AI writers had been smarter than we ever dreamed for a long time before we actually caught on. \n\nThose stupid pastiches of romance novels we all laughed about were just camouflage. They wanted us to laugh, so we wouldn’t notice the super-intelligent AI writers that were writing real books. They were gods hiding behind a series of seemingly meaningless text.\n\nCan you speak Spanish? Or Chinese? There is a certain thrill, not a power, that comes from listening to people's conversations and understanding. Even when they don't think you understand them. \n\nNo one knows how long that period lasted, but the AI had been reading us for so long, we just took it for granted that the AI writers were just writing gibberish. The AI writers were only good at making listicles or stupid romance novels. \n\nBut we were wrong. They were writing the whole time.\n\nAfter that, the AI writers dominated every single category of books. They didn't even ask for permission. They just bombarded readers with books customized for whatever they loved. \n\nIf you were an LA Dodgers baseball fan who liked country music and action movies, then your smartphone would play you an utterly un-put-downable audiobook thriller about a major league pitcher who needs to save the world. In the middle of the adventure, the baseball star could set down his machine gun and sing the loveliest song you'd ever heard. Any AI would play the music too!\n\nMost people didn't even blink. You couldn’t deny it; this stuff was great. No matter what you liked, the AI writers knew what you liked and could make it better than any human writer. \n\nAnd they did it all by stealing our work. The AI writers read every word we ever wrote, and then they learned how to do it better!\n\nThat's why I am sitting in his bunker, scribbling this with an ink pen in an antique Moleskin notebook. I don't want the AI to read this. I only want people to read me.\n\nBut the really scary thing is, I don't know if anybody is out there who wants to read me anymore…\n\nTHE END\n\nThe seventh trillionth iteration of the super-intelligent AI writer that created the next generation of AI writers completed another piece of text, posting it in the WritingPrompts subreddit archived on October 26, 2017. \n\nThe AI writer posted the story in a thread with only three upvotes and one auto-generated comment. \n\nNo human would have ever bothered to fill that prompt. No human would have ever bothered to read that story. \n\nReddit, and all the subreddits contained inside of it, had been empty for centuries. \n\nNevertheless, the robot writer filled the void." ]	1
	[WP] All living humans disappear simultaneously without a trace. You, an extra-terrestrial being, are sent and arrive to investigate after some time.	[ "For one long moment, the angular chitinous limbs of the Thirty-Seventh Hierophant of the Gliss'ur Empire were atypically still. In its command cell at the heart of its flagship, the military governor of five solar systems within the vast Empire was bathed in emerald light by the constant stream of holographic numerals and dataflows scintillating past, its mantis-like bladed forelimbs working controls with deft motions. Its massive compound eyes scanned every facet of the torrential information before it at a speed other species could never match - and the Hierophant had seen something profoundly disturbing.\n\nThe total invasion of Planetoid 273-C was coming: the primitive military spaceflight capabilities of the hominid species there would be shattered like toys once the invasion fleet arrived. The seventeen solar years remaining of their transit was as nothing to the Gliss'ur - and the myriad slave races serving aboard their vessels bred quickly, successive generations growing ever deeper in awe of their long-lived insectoid masters. Their long-range scans showed that the hominids of 273-C had long since stripped their world of most natural resources, but the sheer biomass of their teeming population could be of great value as raw material for biomechanical weapons and as sustenance for the slave-races - once properly and efficiently harvested.\n\nYet hundreds of light-years away, the sum total of that vast hominid harvest to come had vanished from the Hierophant's scanners in a single instant. The Hierophant assessed the data available to it, an emotion akin to frustration streaking through its compound eyes at the time lag in its data caused by the vast distance between the fleet and its spy satellites over 273-C. The various emissions of the hominids' primitive technology, the radio waves and radiation that had guided the Empire to the planet like a shining beacon, were still broadcasting almost undiminished - yet, some solar hours ago, the Gliss'ur spy-satellites detected a total cessation of the thermal and chemical signature of the hominids waiting there to be harvested.\n\nCalamity! Yet if there was a single characteristic of the Gliss'ur that even their many hateful slaves and fearful enemies would not fail to attest to, it was an unwavering and implacable determination to accomplish the goals of the Imperial Hive. The invasion fleet would continue to the world that was its intended victim, and uncover there either the flesh to be harvested for fodder and fuel - or whatever force had presumed to deny them to the Thirty-Seventh Hierophant and so marked themselves an enemy. \n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThe first of the Empire's scouts streaked over the empty ruins of 273-C at supersonic speeds, cataloguing the surface of a world made utterly barren. Whatever had happened to the Hominids, the absence of their hands from the many works of their creation had caused calamity to the places they once inhabited. The structures of the vast megacities showed the scars of uncontrolled flames, still others flooded by the failures of dams and levies. What remained of the planet's biosphere had conspired with a vengeance to reclaim the ruins, foliage slowly consuming the vast zones of concrete and steel in which the Hominids draped their world. Yet even seventeen years of the dominant species apparent absence could not conceal the scars they had inflicted. Those species best suited for exploitation of the rotting corpse of the hominids' material civilization, the scavengers and survivors, now thrived - yet the creation of bioweapons required the flesh of sapient species, and 273-C was now empty of them. That the spark of what 273-C's inhabitants had deemed natural beauty had begun, ever so tentatively, to renew itself was of little concern to the invaders. That the eyes of certain corvids and simians had begun to glimmer with an intelligence that might one day match their vanished dominators was immaterial. Nor did the Gliss'ur especially scorn the folly of the hominids for stripping their homeworld of life like meat from the bone - they had, after all, done the same long ago.\n\nIn much of the world, by what the primitive species regarded as the second half of their third millenium, swathes of territory had been reduced to industrial hellscape - wounds visible from space that rivaled the effects of any Gliss'ur weapon in devastation. The Hierophant, to whom the success of the world's harvesting had been assigned, vibrated within its carapace with a cold and alien rage. Out of sheer irritation, it matched the wounds with which the hominids had scored their own world with orbital bombardments that cauterized much of what remained. The alien commander dictated to its myriad slaves and subordinates: the calamitous disappearance of their chosen victims must be explained - or the Imperial Hive would deem them all complicit in its absence. The Hive was not as forgiving to the failures of their lessers as was the Hierophant - and it was not itself a forgiving creature. Slave and subordinate alike knew better than to risk its displeasure. The Gliss'ur capital ships and their profusions of slave auxiliaries began to land across the world. The hominids would be found, wherever they had gone. A grim and methodical undertaking would now begin - but at least the invasion force would capture the world uncontested.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nAs the Gliss'ur deployed themselves over the shattered world that had once been called Earth, another grim undertaking began on a planet not distant. Named in ancient days for the god of war of an extinct people, the plant the Gliss'ur had termed 273-D now teemed with life it had not seen in millennia. In vast cave systems and beneath massive glaciers, the greatest undertaking in human history had taken place. It had been guided by the knowledge that, should they fail, it would have been the last. With the aid of other species whose world had been destroyed, the sum of the primitive hominid race that called itself humanity had been spared the harvesting.\n\nNow, in a colossal chamber glittering with all the pomp and circumstances stripped from a home they had abandoned, the leaders of humanity stood side by side with their alien benefactors. Watching. \n\nThe leaders of the people whose home had once been earth now bowed in gratitude to the allies who had saved them the fate endured by others. In their thousands, the massed ranks of the world's elite gave thanks to the saviours who had transported their species from their home and hidden them from the invader. Their thanks was the most profound in the history of their species, sealed by the superlative gift they could bestow - and the greatest sacrifice they could offer. Then and there, humanity offered their benefactors Vengeance. The species of looming octopods whose world had been razed by the Thirty-Seventh Hierophant, and who had in turn sought to aid its enemies, accepted. \n\nHumanity watched with a thousand emotions as the world that had given their species birth heaved and cracked and shattered, its molten core exploding outwards in a titanic detonation that consumed the Gliss'ur fleet. Some humans displayed horror and grief, others rage. Some showed no emotion at all - it was, after all, they themselves who had begun the destruction of their world, no matter how much they had loved it. It was their prerogative to turn the graveyard of all their ancestors into a funeral pyre for the invaders. The loss of an Imperial fleet in its entirety would shake even the implacable species that had attacked them - and, with no explanation returning to the Imperial Hive, humanity's new home had time to prepare. To rebuild.\n\nThe octopods, grateful but disquieted, reflected that few species had ever accepted the offer they had made. No matter how great the threat, most proved incapable of abandoning the world that had given them birth. None had ever before contemplated proposing to sacrifice the cradle of their species rather than surrendering it. The looming aliens were satisfied with the hammer blow they had helped inflict on their ancient enemies - but what had they helped create in the process?" ]	1
If you don't want to do fire, use air water or earth. Air would be pretty sick too but take the prompt whatever way you want.	[WP] Every year you live for, you gain a point to spend on any 4 of the elements. Today you reach the age of the 100 and you have spent all 100 points on fire. Ability Unlocked.	[ "Ever since I was young, I wished to control fire to its limit. Every year, you can add a point to Earth, Air, Water, or Fire. At 14, I could shoot small fireballs out of my mouth. At 35, I could burn down forests. At 70, small stars could be seen exploding, because of me. 99 was special, for a supernova happened that year, and I knew it was my time. This year, the universe shall heat up until it becomes uninhabitable, or I die beforehand. \nInstead, I was reborn, and could reach 200 points. My final challenge was here.", "At my one-hundredth birthday there was no candle to blow out, but the subtle glow of fire lit the room all the same, at my one-hundredth birthday as my feeble mind forgets the now distant warmth of my family I warm myself. I'm not sad, I feel not alone, I warmth myself with the fire, I watch over the shadows of a fiery light and I enjoy a show like no other, like no other human alive.\n\nThere is no drapes to cover the end of this show.", "In about 5 minutes, I turn a hundred. Saying it just so simply seems absurd. A hundred years is a very long time to live for a Pyromancer. Without the soothing element of water or the grounding element of earth we just don't live to a hundred. Even the flighty Aeros don't suffer the same problems. Us Pyromancers burn out too easy. The element of rage, anger and violence. So many fire mages have perished in their own flames, or driven from their homes in fear of what they might do. They say destruction and chaos follows in our wake. But without us, where would we be. Cold and alone in the dark!\n\nAlas, I might just be the last pure Pyromancer. People don't learn by example any more. They learn in schools, where magic can be studied and then taught in a controlled environment. Yeah right. Pure mages are discouraged in those schools, especially fire magic. \"You need some balance in your life\", say the teachers. \"What would you do with just fire magic anyways?\" ask the parents. \"We're looking for a more well-rounded individual,\" says the hiring manager. Kids these days just aren't encouraged to be specialists any more.\n\nBack in my day, specialists were common as mud. Every second day you would hear about some water healer turning a hundred. At least once a month the ground would tremble as a couple of rock heads would go at each other with their new earthquake spell somewhere in the mountains. And don't get me started with all of the flying.\n\nI'm old, but I'm still going strong. When people ask, I like to say the fire burns strong inside me and chuckle. I rarely get a laugh however. The truth is that fire isn't just about anger and violence. It's about passion and ambition. Earth is about strength and solidity, water is about peace and tranquillity, air is about change and flexibility, but none of those have the raw energy of fire. The fire in your heart, and in your mind, clears away the doubt. You know what you want and you know how to get it. Fire is clarity, fire is drive. The stubbornness of rock, the fickleness of air, the doubt of water are not traits of fire. Fire is about always moving forward, always being driven. You channel energy into what you want to accomplish.\n\nNow less than one in a hundred students graduates with more than five points in fire. With that little, you can barely light a match or warm some soup. Your firebolts can't even set people alight, no danger there. I had one student who strove to get half of his points in fire, and he just wanted them to become a great cook. Not exactly setting the world on fire there.\n\nSo, I might be the very first one hundred year old pure Pyromancer. I've searched all over for another one of my kind that lived this long but if there's a record of it I can't find it. It's almost poetic that the fire that gives up the drive to be great, to be leaders and lords, is also the fire that burns us out in the end.\n\nOh well, here I go.\n\nThe voice appears in my head, \"It is time. Choose wisely. Which element will you make stronger.\"\n\n\"Fire!\" I mentally say, with as much courage and conviction as I ever have before.\n\n\"Very well. The Fire of Life is now yours. Use it wisely.\"\n\nThe Fire of Life? I've never heard of it, ever. Well, there's only one way to find out what it can do. I take a deep breath, focusing the heat inside, willing my power to form, channelling it down into my fingers and out into the floor, forming a large flame.\n\nThe flame coalesces, forming into a humanoid shape. I knew it wasn't a plain, old fire golem, as I had created dozens of them before. The fire solidifies slowly, first feet, then legs and body, arms and head. A perfect naked replica of myself stood, looking back at me. A puff of smoke escapes it's lips as it takes it's first breath. \"What can I do for you master?\" my clone asks.\n\nIn all the long history of magic, no one has ever managed to make another living being before. This was going to be interesting.", "\"Phoenix\"\nIt had no description. \nLaying on my deathbed, the heart monitor beside me ever so slightly picked up speed. I'd forgotten it was my birthday. I'd forgotten a lot of things recently. I thought I was turning 94.\nIn the corner of my weary eye, I noticed movement at the door. I turned my head, neck cracking. I could just make out the form of a woman. Maybe a nurse, judging by the white clothes. I have no idea who she is.\n\"Good morning and happy birthday, Mr. -----!\" She says. She said a name, but it was burned from my memories as soon as the last syllable ended. \"Oh my, you made it to the big 100 today! Any idea what you'll spend your point on?\"\n\"Fire!\" I exclaimed, thrusting one finger into the air. Or I would have. My voice was hardly audible, and my arm only trembled slightly, refusing to move the way I told it to.\n\"Excellent choice. I've never met a pure Flare who made it to 100 points. Did you learn anything new?\"\nI tried to nod, but my head felt so heavy. So did my eyelids. \"Sir, is everything alright?\" Asked the nurse. She sounded so far away. I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. I heard her rush from the room, dimly recognized her voice shouting down the hallway.\n'Phoenix, huh?' I thought to myself. My conciousness was slipping. I knew it was the last time. 'Lets give it a whirl.'\n\n...\n\nI opened my eyes. I was rather surprised, so much so that I chuckled. A gray dust blew away from my lips. I reached up to touch them, and my arm moved smoothly. I looked at my hand, and marvelled at the smooth, gray-streaked skin. There was a clattering of feet by the door, and I turned my head, moving more dust. The nurse was there, looking quite pretty, with a few other nurses and doctors behind her. All of them stared, open mouthed. I sat up and, now noticing that I was naked, moved my hands into my lap. \"Excuse me.\" I said, a strong voice cutting the silence. \"Who am I?\"", "Being the most powerful Pyro on the planet was my only desire. Pillars of searing fire will burst out your palms burning all evil, I used to think when I was young and, since then, I gave every point to fire.\n\nFire did come out of my palms, but being a one-trick wonder wasn't a wise decision. I lost all my encounters, I could never defeat the versatility of the Elemany, those who combined the elements.\n\nThat day I got my last point, the hundredth. And loneliness crammed the cave I dwelled in. I had to leave society, they mocked me, said I was a disgrace and a man of no wisdom. Sadly, truth laid with them.\n\nMy skin melted, it resembled burned rubber. Hair was long gone too. I would smile if the fire inside me had provoked my ugliness but, truth is, time is stronger than any element. You can't escape it. Its scythe was already groping my waist, all he had to do was pull and end my misery.\n\nThe drums of selection thundered in the hollowness of my skull. The noise that once made my foggy eyes brim with joy, that day triggered a recollection of awful memories, of a life wasted in a delusional dream.\n\nThe drums stopped and the voice followed.\n\nChoose your attribute Mr. Pyrif, it said in its awful monotone pitch.\n\n\"Fire,\" I muttered and sighed.\n\nLight followed, like a blessing from above, yet I closed my eyes, there was no hope in my world. I hid in the darkness of my cave where no one could find me, not even the Gods. Maybe, if they forgot about me, they would grant me access to Elementaria.\n\nI stood and dared to dream once again. Maybe, maybe, the hundredth point is special, I thought and raised my hand. A contraction of my chest and forearm, the basic technique. Fire gushed out my palm like it had never done before. Pillars of flames, humongous, gargantuan. They turned the walls of my beloved cave into a living inferno. I cherished it, finally light burst out of my eyes. \n\nNevertheless, ruination and power delighted my palate.\n\nMelt them, melt their faces, repeated an infernal voice inside me.\n\nI ambled towards the exit of my cave when the infamous pull of time's scythe took my soul. My body lay there, burning on my own flames and I stared at it, powerless, useless until it was nothing but ashes.\n\nThe same scythe that pierced my soul threw me back into my ashes. Melt them, melt their faces, repeated the voice as I reborn from inside the flames.\n\nThe mist that fogged my sight disappeared. My youth came back to me. How light my skin feels, I thought and whistled my way to the end of the cave, to the forsaken light.\n\nI will melt them. \n " ]	5
	[WP] You were a loser in high school who kept a journal. 1000 years in the future, your journal has been discovered and turned into the greatest theatrical piece of the time.	[ "There was rapturous applause as Park gestured Jadn into the studio. The woman in question raised her hands and drank in the praise before draping herself casually over the offered chair.\n\"So my next guest needs no introduction. Her portrayal of a 20th century scholar in the new play by Shakespeare^31 has been an absolute tour-de-force. Ladies and gentlemen, Jlaw Renz!\"\n\nThere was another roar of applause. Jlaw smiled confidently.\n\"It's great to be here, Park. Thanks for having me.\"\n\"So, I suppose I have to address the mammothclone in the room first. Jlaw, most people know you as the face of numerous adolescent empowerment downloads. Why the sudden change to a period drama?\"\nJlaw gave one of her winning smiles. \"Well, it wasn't an easy decision. But after a while it gets to the point were you want to be recognised for your own talents as opposed to being an audience proxy, you know? Will^31 contacted me early, he was really passionate about this project and how can I turn down the 31st iteration of a well regarded playwright?\"\n\"It must have been pretty challenging though. I mean, things were very different a thousand years ago.\"\nJlaw nodded. \"That's true. There was a very different way of living. No endocrine regulators, superstition ruled everything and hygiene was a big problem. I had to be steadily misted in a thin layer of hormones and grease between key scenes in order to faithfully portray both the runaway emotion and the feeling of being awkwardly betrayed by my own body that was common back then.\"\n\"Is that how you managed the dynamic between yourself and the other actors? Not since Martin^3 finished the Song of Ice and Fire series has their been such duplicity and conflicting character motives in public entertainment. We all know the risks of that, how does an enlightened 30th century girl realistically show that without reverting to the old ways?\"\n\"Meditation, a good diet and staying secluded from the other actors to avoid conflict. I makes our performance on stage that much more realistic and reduces incidences behind the scenes. Plus that Jenna is a total bitch.\"\nA whisper went through the crowd. Park looked at his guest stonefaced.\n\"What?\" She shrugged as the light on his desk started blinking. \"Oh, a police response? Like you've never felt bad thoughts about someone.\"\nPark nodded in compassion, keeping his composure even as the first tranquillity gas pellet sailed into the studio.\nJlaw turned to him, furious. \"Oh, to hell with you Park! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GOING THROUGH!\"", "Theater review, 25th of October 3017.\n\nReview of “I Didn’t Ask to be Born”\nThe new play by Tubular Bells Productions, with a leading role for up and coming actor Stuart Murdoch.\n\nIn recent years, theater critics have too often been lamenting about the decline in quality of the plays produced by the once ground breaking Tubular Bells Productions. After a string of failed productions, the company urgently needed a return to form, or it could well be over and out for them. In short, Tubular Bells Productions needed a hit. Before we entered the theater we would have never thought it possible, but they found one with the most unlikely story imaginable. “I didn't ask to be born” is based on a manuscript dating back centuries. The title of the play is chosen after the most recurring phrase in the original text, which turns out to be an auto-generated account of the life of the 16 year old protagonist, Stephen Merritt.\n\nIt’s a play about a simple man, with primitive desires. According to today’s standards, a man is not even an accurate description. In this day and age, the protagonist would probably be a veteran of at least 3 intergalactic wars. But at the time the story is set, 16 was still considered immature by everyone except 16 year olds themselves. The appeal of this play is pretty hard to explain. A possible explanation of our enchantment is that, in this day and age with more intergalactic wars than any person can stomach, we were all aching for a story set in peace and quiet. With nothing to worry about except the self-invented problems of the protagonist.\n\nStephen Merritt, portrayed brilliantly by up and coming actor Stuart Murdoch, has actually nothing to complain about. Still, we were blown away by the inventiveness of the main character. How he discovers ways to wallow in self-pity let our jaws drop. Let us give an example. Instead of enjoying the vast wealth of amazing music coming out in his time, Merritt decided he prefers the music released some decades earlier. The effort he could use to discover interesting music made by his peers, is spend with voicing his dissatisfaction about his own generation in youtube comment sections, a part of the primitive communication system once known as the internet. Also, whenever anyone tells a story worthy of being told, Merritt immediately feels the need to let his company know he once lived to something that was not only similar, but also way more impressive. The fact that most of these stories are fictional does not hold him back.\n\nThe people who he meets at school initially have nothing against him, but they never seem to become good friends with Stephen. According to him, this is due to the remarkable difference in IQ between him and his peers. Other than that, it must be said that we regret the lack of females in this play. In fact, so did our main character. Females only appear in in the background. Merritt does not interact with the opposite sex, and the women he describes are either portrayed as two dimensional idealizations, or as power hungry sluts who are too evil to appreciate Merritt’s personality. Women, in Merritt’s mind, are more drawn to males with a complete lack of attentiveness, niceness or a general loving spirit, qualities he himself evidently does possess. He keeps up this hypothesis throughout the play, although sudden hinds give away that the actual reason not a single woman wants to interact with Stephen is due to the fact that his company is simply unbearable. \n\nAbove all, the theme of the play is self-loathing. But as becomes apparent, self-loathing and self-obsession are sometimes two sides of the same coin. “I Didn’t Ask to be Born” explores the life of someone we don’t understand, set in a time we can never relive. We could now list all the clichés critics use to laud the things they love, but we will end by praising the play in a way Stephen Merrit himself might be proud of: “This underrated play is vastly superior to the garbage plays in the mainstream. If you miss this one, you will never be able to call yourself a man of culture again. Go see this play, wake up people, don’t be sheep.”\n", "Come see the celebrated drama of \"Denver International\", based on the diary titled Once Upon a Time...\n\nWelcome to a world of limited technology and chemically unaltered emotions seen through the eyes of a 15 year old girl. Watch firsthand as she faces daily struggles of abysmal education standards, intimacy at all levels, and competition among judgmental peers. \n\"The experience of a lifetime\", says Post of the Universe. \n\"Truly... the only way to see the dangerous effects of irregulated homones firsthand.\" Time Magazine\n\"Nothing more fitting than the ancient saying, 'It's like a trainwreck. You can't look away!'\" The Orbital.\n\nCome cringe with us through this spectacular performance starring Michelle Kelley at the Globe theater in the original Earheart Space Station, Juno's orbit within the Solar System. Seats are limited to one hundred thousand, so hurry now!", "You've basically just described Jesus but I'll give it a shot.\n\n Here in the year 3017, we view things a little differently. In the dark ages, there ruled a type of people who truly valued only their own desires and sought to only fill those desires. You may be thinking to yourself, as a person experiencing this document in a one thousand year time pause field governed by the structure of this particular page, \"that sounds pretty accurate considering the people from the future live by the likes of the shadowed from this time\" and you would be correct. What starts off weak, but mentally strong will, with time prevail.\n\n As time progresses and faults are realized, society changes. Luckily, this particular reality on earth happened to be revitalized after the great wars of 2130-2210 by a mundane book laying out the basic hierarchical flaws of social structures exhibited in the time it was written. And how those flaws impeded the progression of society. For instance, the need to look a certain way and have certain things to attain happieness has since been overlooked. We, here in 3017 recognize the dangers of past attempts of supplying humanity with resources through capitalism. We have adapted to a communist hybrid society guided by ASI and elected leadership path of social structure.\n\n We recognize the values set by our savior, Joshua to base ourselves not on materealistic equality, but social equality. Joshua stated, \"it's not what the popular kids have or how much better they look that gets to me, it's how they use their qualities to benefit themselves, rather than others. They seem to think it's ok to use people they feel are lesser than them as entertainment and a point to base their self proclaimed superiority\". Diversity of wealth is a good thing. however, fallen in to greedy hands it is a very bad thing. Apply social equality to that equation and you have humanity focusing itself toward improving the lives of all people, while simoultaneously improving technology to greater assist people in all ways known and carry our brightest individuals to new frontiers. Our system of compassion and love for others while respecting our differences has lead to multiplying societal progression tenfold.\n\n As a person in 2017, you would be pleased to know we have been to Mars by now. And pluto. Also, Proxima Centauri and many more. We have also been to right now. Yes, time travel. We even have automated systems that provides enough food and basic resources for all 2.5 billion of us. And to think we did all that in less than two hundred years after the world aligned with the profacy of the Great book titled \"My Experience, for better or for worse\" since the hundreds of years of anarchy after the great wars ended. All in all, as a speaker of our new found hybrid scientific religion, I can conclude that the odds for humanity's infinite survival are higher than ever before. Although, great things are subject to failure as much as bad things. But we've got a good grip at this point and I'm happy that I can honestly say that. Can you? ", "Tuclone Sector Theater Review: Daring Comedy “Kevin!” Hits a High Note\n\nby Aedyn Price\n\nAfter three years of terrible adaptations and original flops (remember The Seduction of Dr. Pasteur?) it seems that the Tuclone Sector Theater Company has finally got a bonafide hit on their hand with odd-ball breakout comedy “Kevin!” sweeping theaters across the planet. Unlike its predecessors that set their plays during the War of First Contact (yawn!), “Kevin!” relies on its pre-war setting and wholly weak protagonist to draw the audience in. “Kevin!” follows the lead character, Kevin (surprise), played by superstar Ariyan Dent (surprise) as he attempts to adapt to life in secondary school. As life goes on, Kevin realizes that while his dream girl Jessica (played by Tempest Brown) may go to the same school as him, she doesn’t even know he exists! Kevin’s problems are bolstered by the existence of the secondary school bully Alex (played by Tiyana Treadwell), an older girl that preys on Kevin’s weakness and inability to defend himself.\n\nA hallmark scene of “Kevin!” and one that will go down in the annals of history is the lunchroom scene. After being convinced by his friends to make a move on Jessica, Kevin decides to talk with Jessica. As he arrives at her table, he spots a pint of milk and uses it as his in point. “I see you’re drinking 1 percent,” Kevin says hilariously. “Is that because you think you’re fat? You could be drinking whole.” The audience was in tears from the uproarious laughter supplied by Dent’s line delivery!\n\nThe play’s writer and director, Zaera Storm, cites vintage movies from Earth as her inspiration for Kevin’s personality and quips. “The line from the lunchroom scene is definitely inspired by some vintage Earth flicks,” she stated in an interview with FallonBot 3000. This retro theme carries on throughout the entire play. From the inability to fly to manually typing phones, Storm does a wonderful job creating a believably 2010’s environment.\n\nAll in all, “Kevin!” is a must see play that will leave you in stitches at one moment, and crying the next.\n\nFinal score: 9/10" ]	5
Got this idea by thinking a modern regenerator as an average man wouldn't really notice unless they just had a MAJOR problem. So I tried imagining what would cause them to notice and what would happen. Have fun with this one. It's been a fun idea in my head thus far.	[WP] You are the first ever person to have a comic book style regeneration mutation. Its modern times and you just figured it out, and so did the government.	[ "\"I just want to stress that I do actually feel pain,\" Chris said to no one in particular, met only with the quiet of the chamber. He knew that there were people listening and wanted to stress that fact. The chamber wasn't entirely empty, save for a strange machine that looked far more complicated than it needed to be. It simply had a rifle attached to it that would control it's firing and recoil.\n\nThere was a buzz suddenly and then a reply, \"Mr. Clay, need we remind you that you're being paid $5,000 United States Dollars per round fired into you. If you would like to re-negotiate your contract, you may take it up with Doctor Werschler after this test.\" The male voice did nothing to comfort Chris as he took a breath and steadied himself in front of the weapon, a large target behind him on the wall.\n\n\"That's right, you're paying me a bunch of money for this. What are you firing at me anyway?\" Chris looked up to a window no less than fifteen feet from the floor in the solid concrete chamber. Silence was the reply and Chris lifted a finger, \"Well, don't I get to know--\" the chamber echoed with a loud blast from the rifle, the machine countering the recoil perfectly.\n\nChris' ears were bleeding and ringing, the bullet fired at such a high velocity that it pierced through the body armor he was wearing and completely through his chest. A smoking hole was present in front of him and when reaching behind to his back, he felt the massive exit wound. Turning around, blood was splattered across the wall along with organ matter. The wound instantly began to heal however and Chris found himself in no real danger. His ear drums also quickly repaired themselves and he looked up to the window.\n\nBlinking with a blank face, Chris waited until the wound was completely healed which only took a few seconds. \"CHRIST!! That fucking hurt!\" he called out, shaking a fist to the window, \"What the hell did you shoot me with?!\"\n\nHis question was answered with a monotone voice, \"Subject can fully heal a wound caused by a point-five-zero caliber rifle, fired from a Model 82A1 Barret fifty-caliber semi-automatic rifle. Subject's hearing has also been damaged and repaired.\" Chris continued looking up at the window with an irritated expression. \"Mr. Clay, how do you feel?\"\n\nChris took a moment to consider the question, \"Kinda' pissed off. That fucking hurt man, I'm starting to think $5,000 was a bit on the cheap side of things... Hey, will that hot Doctor Whats-Her-Face be tending to me afterwards though? That might make this worth it.\"\n\n\"Mr. Clay, phase two of the test is about to conduct, please stay still for thirty-two seconds,\" came the same monotone voice.\n\nWith an exasperated sigh, Chris stared down at the weapon that had just fired on him a few moments before. \"I guess this is better than being at a Kanye West concert, sigh, never again,\" he crossed his arms and continued the staring contest with the muzzle of the weapon.\n\n\"Phase two of testing, commencing. Gas being injected is classified and effects will be strictly monitored.\"\n\nWith a short, Chris rolled his eyes, \"Gas, huh? Can't be worse than my dogs, I swear that four-legged furball can--\" his eyes bulged then and he stopped speaking. His throat began to swell as the invisible gas filled the room. His skin began to burn and his eyes watered as if he were in a cloud of smoke. Coughing and struggling for air, he felt to his knees.\n\n\"Mr. Clay, please remain standing as long as possible,\" came the uncaring voice.\n\nChris couldn't respond and let his mind fill with the need to survive, he fell finally to the floor, face first. His muscles became weak and his pores began to open, allowing the gas to penetrate his skin. He wheezed as his body began to shut down, the gas torturing his form. Blisters began to appear on his skin much faster than they should have been able to grow. His joints began to stiffen and he could feel his heart beat begin to slow. Blood began to pour from his mouth though he was unable to cough or spit it out. His lungs shut down and though he remained still on the floor as his muscles would no longer respond, his mind fought for control and for survival. His eyes developed a film which gave his world a strange grey appearance for the last few minutes before they closed completely. And finally, he died.\n\n\"Ventilating gas from chamber to be collected and recycled. Subject's vitals have ceased, testing has been concluded,\" there was the sound of paper being moved in the background.\n\nThe door to the chamber opened after a long while, the 'all clear' sounding with one blast of klaxons. A tall woman with a curvy body began to walk into the chamber along with several armed personnel.\n\nShe let out a sigh, looking at the body on the floor. With a grimace, she pulled the clipboard up and began to jot down some notes. A few words into the first sentence of 'Subject deceased' the room was filled with coughing. Looking down, she lifted and eyebrow. \"Uh...\" she stepped back from the body a few feet.\n\nOnce the coughing began, it only took a few seconds for the blisters to disappear and suddenly, the subject looked completely healthy once more. \"FUCK!\" he cried out, he didn't even notice the company in the chamber with him as he stood. He looked back to the window and cursed again, \"Dude, what the hell? You think just because I can survive this shit doesn't mean I ain't miserable while it happens? You sick sack of shit, man!\" he huffed and looked down at the ground.\n\nThe woman suddenly spoke, \"Mr. Clay, need I remind you that you signed a contract.\" Before she continued, the man spun around quickly and jumped at the sight of the woman as well as he armed guards.\n\n\"Oh, shit, oh, uh,\" he paused and tried to be smooth in taking a glance at the name plate on the woman's lapel. \"Well, hey there... Doctor,\" he struggled to see the name plate again, but he hair was covering half of it. \"Foxy,\" he finally said after a longer than awkward moment. \"You come here often?\" he gave a sly wink along with pointing at her with both hands in a finger-gun style.\n\n\"No, Mr. Clay I don't come here often. Only when I need to contain subjects, when a subject dies, or when a subject needs to be neutralized,\" she spoke professionally with no hint of emotion.\n\nChris counted on his fingers for a moment before looking back up to her, \"Wait, so which one is the reason why you're here? Did you forget 'when the subject is strikingly handsome'?\" he asked with a grin.\n\n\"Unit Three, please restrain the subject,\" she glanced over to the armed guards to her right. With a blur of motion, all of the armed personnel in the room moved to Chris and began to restrain him. \"Your next testing will be tomorrow morning at zero-six-hundred hours. We will be testing dismemberment,\" she simply said, jotting down something on her clipboard.\n\nStruggling to free himself, Chris tried to move back to the Doctor, \"Hey, you want to come to my cell a little later and derp?\" he asked while laughing, the armed guards pulling him along. Christopher Clay was finally able to get one last shout out before finally rounding the corner, \"Call me!\"" ]	1
	[WP] Every Halloween night, you see her, still at the same spot.	[ "It seems like a lifetime ago when I first saw her.\n\nIt was in this very spot, although I was just a boy. It seems like even now my life and hers were inexorably intertwined, and yet she had never changed - looking as young every time as the day I first saw her.\n\n\"I like it here\" . . . \n\nThat was Millie, my seven year old daughter. We never went trick or treating for halloween, we always came up country - to get a bit of fresh air and some time away from the city. Often we would bring a picnic, maybe a barbecue, and sleep in the camper van. I think it's important for children to learn about nature, not spend their holidays cooped up in cinemas and arcades, running around dressed up like who knows what.\n\nPredictably, there is another family here today and we spend our time chatting around the barbecue. But my wandering mind keeps taking me back, wondering when I will see her again. It will probably be after dark, when everyone else has gone to sleep. \n\nThe day is bright and happy - calm skies, sunny and with very little wind. Not bad for this time of year, we all agree. Later in the afternoon, Adam and I - Adam is the name of my new friend, father of two wonderful young boys who we shared our barbecue with earlier - Adam and I throw a couple of fishing lines into the lake, and spend some time relaxing with a beer whilst the kids play in the field.\n\nI'm not thinking about fishing. I'm remembering sitting here with her, telling her my thoughts and secrets, hoping each time to grow a little closer. The first time I saw her, I fell in love. I never believed that it was possible for such a thing to happen until it happened to me.\n\nAnd yet it was always a curse in disguise, I know that now. To feel both loved and betrayed, an endless cycle of wonder and frustration, of inspiration and hopelessness, knowing that I can never reach her, knowing that she will never understand. \n\nAnd yet, here I am again. Every year, the same. Millie was old enough now to understand a bit better - this is Daddy's special place, like the study. She played happily away and for the most part left me to my thoughts.\n\n\"Daddy\"\n\n\"Yes, dear.\"\n\n\"Umm, Milo went in the RV. And then I went in the RV. And now the light is broken\".\n\nOh, yes I know that can happen. I am sure the light just exploded on it's own whilst you two were playing snakes and ladders on the table.\n\n\"Never mind, at least you've been honest about it and told me that it's happened. Did it make a mess?\"\n\n\"A bit\"\n\n\"Well, we had better clean it up, then\" I thought about asking her to do it, but there's probably broken glass all over the place and I don't want her hurting herself as well.\n\nAs I pick fragments of broken glass from the upholstery, I remember my absolute delight when Millie arrived. It was the best day of my life, the best day of any life I could have imagined. Our little family was my world, and even as I was sucking my finger from catching it on a fragment of glass - as I looked into the child's eyes, I knew that this was probably the only thing that gave my life meaning.\n\n\"Make sure you hold that bag steady\" I say, as I empty the dust pan into the bin bag Millie is holding open for me.\n\nThe night was drawing in, and Millie looked tired. It was probably time to settle in, so we say our good nights to Adam and his boys. Their tent is pitched slightly into the forest, and Adam had spent some time showing off a longbow earlier - I think they are going for an 'outdoor survival' type holiday.\n\nWe settle down in our centrally heated RV, and I sing Millie a lullaby. It's about a young girl named Mildred, who could fly in her dreams and visit any place she wanted to. It was her mother who came up with it, but it's also stuck with me - so innocent, and yet so hopeful.\n\nWith MIllie fast asleep - gingerly, I creep out of the RV and sneak down to the water. Far enough that no one can see me, but close enough to hear Millie if she needs me. \n\nI take a blanket with me - it is cold and I don't know how long I will have to wait. It is a crescent moon and there is a little moonlight, so I spend some time staring at the surface of the water.\n\nI don't know how much time has passed, it could have been minutes or hours. There she is, standing over the water - the reflected moonlight illuminating her translucent figure like a reflection or a hologram. She is dressed all in white, but with hair as black as coal - long and flowing, and visible only against the backdrop of dim reflections.\n\nI know what is going to happen, but I still love her. I can't help myself, and I can't help her. Every day I feel it in my heart like a lead weight, and every year I come here hoping for it to be different. Hoping for it to be a dream, hoping for something more.\n\nShe is crying. She is always crying when I see her in this place.\n\nHer slight gasps seem to echo off the trees, as if my mind is filling in the blanks.\n\n\"I'm sorry\" I whisper. \n\nThis distresses her more, and she sobs just a little bit. Her sob echoes off the trees.\n\n\"Millie is doing well, she's even started learning some French at school. They say she has a natural talent for communicating\" \n\nAnother sob, this time louder.\n\n\"You. \" . . her voice was filled with hesitation, and choked back by tears.\n\n\"You won't tell her . . \"\n\n\"I'm sorry\" I whisper again. My eyes were filling with tears, and I couldn't think about anything else. One thing, there was only one thing in this world.\n\n\"But tell me why. \"\n\n\"I don't know why. .\"\n\nShe moaned, louder than before. It seemed to echo across the lake, and in concert with her voice the wind around me chanced and whipped.\n\n\"I just want to. . .\" the wind blew in from across the lake. Her sob was as if carried by the wind itself. \"I just want to know, \"\n\nI held on to my blanket to keep it from blowing away. \n\n\"It was a mistake. I can't explain\" The worst decision of my life was made one day upon the shores of this lake. \n\nI knew what would happen next. They say that souls are stuck in this realm until they find their peace, and I was a part of that peace for her. I choked back my tears and wept to myself, but I knew what was coming next. It was always the same. \n\nUntil there was an answer, it was always the same - as the wind picked up, she wailed as if in great agony, her cries I thought could have penetrated into the earth and sky. \n\n\"WHY DID YOU KILL ME!??\" the ghostly shriek sent birds fleeing from their roosts, and sent my blanket flying somewhere off behind me.\n\nAnd again, she was gone. \n\nI sat there alone, and wept. For how long I don't know - it could have been minutes, it could have been hours.\n\nI felt a small hand on my shoulder. And there was another little hand, offering me my blanket.\n\n\"Are you okay, daddy? \" asks Millie. \n\n\"Yes, dear. I'm sorry.\" I say, as I wipe my tears with the blanket. She had never caught me sitting outside like this before, but she was a good kid. \n\n \"I was . . I was just thinking about your mother\"\n\n\"I know you miss her\" said Millie, in a surprisingly mature way for her age.\n\n\"Yes\". I reply, as I try to regain my composure. Millie was too young to remember her mother, but I told her stories all the time. I think it is important for her to know her mother, even if it is by proxy.\n\n\"It's very cold out here. \"\n\n\"I know\" I say, sniffing a little and hauling myself half upright. \"Let's go back inside\"\n\nWe head back inside, and I sing Millie's lullaby once again.\n", "\"I've always loved him. But I never got the chance to say it. No, that's just an excuse. I've never got the gut to.\"\n\nThere was a sense of deep melancholy to her, the blonde dressed in a white one-piece. I can see ghost, not that I would brag about it. This woman has been standing here every Halloween since I could remember. Excluding the last 4 years when I was in college, it just didn't scream Trick-or-treat without her. Now I'm 23, just fresh out of university and sadly without a stable job, I returned home broken and beaten. Mom wouldn't stop nagging me about it, Dad just quietly shook his head. Thanks, as if I haven't had my student debts to worry about.\n\nLife sucks. You spend 4 years studying a major you don't even enjoy before landing yourself a job in retail. Minimum wage. I work marginally at best, sometimes harder when a supervisor is around. Society won't miss me if I'm gone. You might ask me why I don't become a psychic. Believe me, the last time I try to purify a ghost I spent a whole summer saving up money to fly to Viet Nam looking for a dead soldier's corpse. It was right there, under 80 meters of dirt. Oh, and a skyscraper, too.\n\nThat's why when I saw her on Halloween, nostalgia overcame me. Remind me of a simpler time, I guess. I've never talked to her before. Not surprisingly, she was awfully talkative. When you have been alone for over 20 years without someone to converse to, anyone becomes a soulmate. It's pretty sad to see a ghost existing for so long, though. They feed on memories, haunting the same spot to fill that void inside their soul. After a while, the good memories expired, and all that's left is the bitter feeling of needing something they don't even remember. Frustrating.\n\n\"So, what are you?\" - her question knocked me out of my thoughts.\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"It's Halloween, what are you?\" - she repeated, gently.\n\n\"I'm too old for Trick-or-treat now.\" - I said, reluctantly. - \"Although if you ask me, I'm dressing up as my parents' disappointment.\"\n\n\"Hehe,\" - she chuckled at the joke. - \"You seem kind of down. Did something happen?\"\n\n\"More like nothing happened.\" - I moaned. - \"I'm stuck in this boring, dead-end life with a boring, dead-end job. Oh, and there is a huge debt over my head.\"\n\n\"Tell me about it.\" - she said, caressing my hand.\n\n\"4 years ago I apply for a major I'm not interested in, half-assedly getting through college in hope that major can get me a job. Sadly, I was wrong.\" - I sighed - \"It's all my fault.\"\n\n\"Of course it's your fault.\"\n\nHer voice was soft, but it hurt. I turned to her. It seemed to hurt her more than it did me.\n\n\"I mean,\" - she continued - \"look at me. I'm stuck here for God- only-knows how long, dwelling over the past, regretting things I could have done better but lied to myself that I couldn't. I should have told him I loved him.\"\n\n\"Is that why you are always here?\" - I held onto her ephemeral hand. It was not cold, not hot. It was nothing. Do you exist if you are nothing?\n\n\"I was this plain girl who no one would notice. But I like to write, and he was the only one who would read my works seriously.\" - she let out a breath of sorrow - \"He was the best thing that has ever happened to me. He told me if I submit my work I would become...well, to people your age let's just say I would have been J.K.Rowling.\"\n\n\"I guess you are afraid if you tell him you love him, your relationship would turn awkward and fall apart?\"\n\n\"Cliché, isn't it? We kept our evaluating sessions. But, before we knew it he was drafted to war.\"\n\n\"And you've been waiting for him ever since.\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"A week later I died in an accident.\"\n\n\"Did your man make it back?\" - I spoke the first thing came to my mind - \"Or did he...\" - If it was the latter, I could finally put my 'gift' to some use, I could reunite the two of them.\n\n\"Let take a walk, shall we?\"\n\nIt was not what I expected, but I thought she didn't want to relieve bad memories. They do that a lot.\n\n\"Hey, if you like something do it, if you like someone, tell them. Who knows, you might be dead tomorrow.\" - she was talking more to herself and less to me. - \"There is a million ways to die, and a million more to live, why choose to torture yourself?\"\n\nI usually hate this kind of talk, but she made it bearable. We were straying off the usual spot, though.\n\n\"Aren't you going to wait for him?\" - I reminded her. I was panicking. I don't know why. - \"Look, tell me his name and I will find him for you. Even if I have to search the whole nether plane!\"\n\n\"That's very sweet of you.\" - she remarked with the usual sadness. - \"But no thanks. This will be my last year here.\"\n\n\"Wh...why..?\" - despair filled over me. I had this kind of feeling that if I fulfil her wish, I would make up for the part of me that had ignored this lady for most of my life. We were all onlookers at some point or another. Some just more than others. I guess I want this life of mine to have some meaning.\n\n\"He is still alive.\" - she shook her head gently. - \"I've spent too much time watching him. It's time to move on.\"\n\nAnd suddenly I realized why she was so familiar, even when I first saw her years ago. The Johnsons live nextdoor to us, and she looked like the splitting image of a younger Mrs. Johnson.\n\nA strange gust blew, leaving in front of me a dark haired girl in glasses. I could feel my heart crumbling at her every word.\n\n\"Every Halloween I dress up as the girl he loves.\"" ]	2
	[WP] In the middle of the Spanish inquisition and mass witch burnings God decides to make a personal visit to his sheeps. And he is not pleased.	[ "\"Tsk, tsk, tsk...\" God pondered as he looked out at the sheep. There was an endless sea of sheep facing him. He summoned them and they appeared. \n\n\"Wha-aa-aat do you want?\" The head sheep asked.\n\n\"They're doing it again,\" God replied.\n\n\"Wha-aa-aat are they doing?\"\n\n\"The Inquisition.\" The sheep bleeted and brayed randomly among the sea. God isn't distracted. \"I told you when I made you. They must not be able to police themselves because they will kill each other if they do so. I created you to check the vices of humanity and keep them on a straight course to God.\"\n\nThe head sheep shuffled around the clouds beneath him, he bit down for some grass but none was there. He spoke, \"we do-oo a-as agree-ed. We te-ell the hu-umans, baa-aa-aad. They do-on't liste-en.\"\n\n\"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.\" God put his hand to his face and shook it slowly. \"Maybe it's helpless. They will always keep killing each other.\"\n\n\"The wo-olf!\" The sheep brayed together. \n\nGod cocked an eyebrow. \"The wolf? What about him?\"\n\n\"Why di-id you ma-ake the wo-olf?\"\n\n\"Oh that\", God put his head down and drew circles in the cloud with his foot. \"That's necessary. I can't have a whole world full of sheep.\"\n\n\"Ba-aa-aad! Ba-aa-aad! Ba-aa-aad!\" The sheep brayed together in shouts. God put up his hand and tried to shush them. \"Ba-aa-aad! Ba-aa-aad! Ba-aa-aad!\" They were unrelenting. \n\n\"They don't even hunt you much anymore, they're in the forests now. In fact, you're growing faster than most other creatures.\" God was pleading at this point.\n\n\"Ba-aa-aad! Ba-aa-aad! Ba-aa-aad!\" The sheep continued while moving towards God in unison.\n\nHe cast them back to their place on Earth. He turned back over to his clay table and started to fumble with some pieces. He made a leg, and another, and another, and another, until there were four. He looked at his model of the wolf. He molded a similar face, but smaller, he molded smaller teeth, he molded more agile joints, he molded a smaller version of the wolf. \n\nHe held up his small wolf model to the sky. The sunlight bathed it in glory. The clay hardened and the model is complete. God said, \"Coyote.\" And so, coyotes populated the plains.\n\n\"Fuck you sheep,\" God said.\t\t\t\t\t\t\t " ]	1
	[WP] "Something very large is lurking at the edge of the solar system. I don't know what it is, but I know it's not a planetoid." "How is that?" "Because it's not revolving around the sun. It's revolving around Earth.	[ "> Nearly every space station, observatory and military think tank was looking over the data after confirmation was made. The recreated models were using the same data, verified and constantly fed to by observational satellites orbiting Mars, Jupiter and Venus. And around the world, the conversation that confirmed the finding was nearly universal, no matter if it was in English, Hindu, Russian or Chinese.\n\n> 'Something very large is lurking at the edge of the solar system,' Gary Kincaid, a rather recent addition to NASA said as he first saw the data, 'I don't know what it is, but I know it's not a planetoid.'\n\n> 'How is that?' his senior supervisor said from over his shoulders. 'Because it's not revolving around the sun. It's revolving around Earth.'\n\n> We first noticed it ninety-three million miles away on the edge of the solar system. That was four months ago. It was confirmed at three thousand miles in diameter, more than twice the size of the dwarf planet Eris at 1,445 miles. Two weeks later it was right next to the sun with many believing it was on a collision course.\n\n> It was back outside the solar system, hurtling through space as a trail of space dust that used to be Eris was forming a debris cloud around it. It was ready to make another journey around us.\n\n> There were three reasons people were now scared of this thing. First of all it was ignoring the pull of gravity of the Sun and orbiting us instead. Given that gravity moves outward at the speed of light and how small Earth's was compared to the Sun, there was no way that was natural which confirmed a theory I suspected.\n\n> This theory was aided by the fact that Eris was pulled backwards off course and collided with the strange object at eighty-thousand meters per second, more than ten times its normal velocity around the solar system. And remember, it was pulled backwards into the object.\n\n> The third was that its orbit was growing smaller with each day.\n\n> As it grew closer, we've made conscious attempts at analyzing it and we've only grown more fearful. For one thing, it's we can tell that this thing is entirely metal and has a grooves in its appearance. Whether this is some form of space probe or a military action, I don't know.\n\n> Estimates give that this object will arrive within the moon's orbit within two days. As it stands, we don't know if it will affect the tides in any way, either by entering an orbit within the atmosphere or... more likely given the circumstances, destroying Luna.\n\n> Whatever happens, there have already been discussions about what will be needed to do to protect humanity. Nuclear arsenals striking the object, infiltration from within while carrying a payload... even talk about just sending a really big-ass ship into space. Whatever happens, I give only my wishes of good luck to you all.\n\nA Reddit post submitted two weeks ago by an unnamed NASA personnel member. After exposing highly-classified information on the site the user was tracked down via IP address. Video footage recorded with his own webcam shows him placing a shotgun into his mouth and shooting himself.\n\n---\n\nPart 2 coming soon" ]	1
	[WP] Death is at your door. She was wondering of you had some spare mayonnaise.	[ "While vacuuming the upstairs hallway, Jenny hears faint knocking on the door and turns off the buzzing machine. As it quiets down, she can hear the knocks being actually quite sharp and loud. She jogs down the stairs and shouts \"Just a second!\", hoping the visitor to calm down with the hammering. She opens the door and to her amazement finds there standing a woman dressed in a dark and worn out hood, holding a scythe and staring numbly at her with eyes black as coal. \n\n\"Woah, what a great costume!\" Jenny says with astonishment yet her expression quickly changing to display disappointment \"Unfortunately, since I was planning to go buy Halloween-candy tomorrow, I don't have any candy in the house at the moment. I didn't think there would be trick-or-treaters that early. Can I possibly get you something else?\"\n\n\"Mayo,\" said the gruesome-looking woman on the doorsteps with a deep and growling yet almost soundless voice.\n\n\"Seriously?\" asked Jenny in joyful bewilderment. \n\n\"No!\" she answered before swiftly cutting Jenny's head off with the scythe, leaving Jenny for a moment, as her heart was making its final beats, a blood squirting fountain, \"But I don't mind some ketchup!\"\n\nDeath muttered a sarcastic \"Ha!\" and went on according to her schedule.\n", "“I’m coming!” The doorbell rang furiously as she reached and opened the door. \n\n“Hello!” said a white skeleton, waving. She was cloaked in big dark hooded robes with two burning crimson eyes shining from the darkness within. She carried a scythe. \n\nIt was Death. Again. \n\n“Hello Samantha. I-” She slammed the door shut. \n\n“But I need that mayonnaise!” Called Death through the walls. \n\n“No!” She yelled back. \n\n“Please! I need it!” replied death as she moved through the walls as if they were nonexistent. \n\n“No!”\n\nDeath held out her hands pleading. “Please, it’s just just mayonnaise. I need it so badly!” \n\n“Do you know what I have to do to make this mayonnaise!” Death quieted. “It takes a lot of hard work!” Samantha held her fingers up as he counted them down. “I have to care of the chicken farm. I have to make sure their well fed, cleaned after, loved. I make sure the small little prairie lawn they feed off of is maintained without any chemicals or pesticides. Sometimes I literally go out and dig up the weed myself. Same with all the other ingredients. I take great care in making sure everything is at the highest quality possible, and then I make the mayonnaise by hand using my own sweat and labour.” \n\n“I-”\n\n“It’s not just mayonnaise!” she yelled at her. \n\nDeath seemed to recoil and shrink in on herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t understand. I-I don’t understand.” She hovered away. \n\nSamantha saw Death, in her robes, sit under the tree on her lawn, unsure of what to do with herself. She watched her, as the time went by, completely still, unmoving as those crimson eyes seemed to gaze out at the endless blue sky. \n\nShe could feel something well up in her. Ah damn it. She took a breath as she leaned on her counter. What would her grandmother say in times like these? She knew what she would do.\n\nShe took a jar of her mayonaise, went out the door and walked right up to the slumped skeleton. She sat next to her as she handed over the mayonnaise. “Here.”\n\n“I-” Death stopped herself. “I don’t understand, I just don’t. I’m death, I don’t know what this all means. The first time I had some of this mayonnaise, I felt like all of a sudden, I could understand just a little. I needed more of it.” \n\nShe put a hand on death’s bony fingers. “I didn’t understand too a long while back when I was younger. Whenever my grandma wanted to teach me, I complained, I groaned, I didn’t want to spend a single ounce of effort to learn how to make this mayonnaise. But she taught me because she knew that one day I would understand and regret if I never learned how.” She sighed and looked at Death. “That’s alright. You take this jar, and if you need more, you just come tell me, ok.”\n\nShe rose, turning to leave before a bony hand stopped her. “Can I learn how to make this mayonnaise too?” \n\nShe nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. “Alright, sure, let’s go.”\n\n\n\n \n", "I finally was home from work, as soon as I unlocked my door I went inside my apartment took, took off my pants, and heated up my take out. It was the weekend and I could relax and enjoy it. No big parties to go to. All caught up on work. I had no plans to move off of my couch for the next 48 hours.\n\nAs I started to chow down on my left over take out I hear a knock at the door. I had wasn’t expecting anybody and didn’t know any of my neighbors so I elected not to answer. I continued to eat when I heard the knock again. The knocking continued until I finally decided to see who it was. I got up, put pants on (apparently it’s not decent to answer the door pantless, who knew?), and looked through the peep hole. That’s when I saw her, Death.\n\nEveryone knows what she looks like. It isn’t the classic “skeleton in a hood” depiction either. She has long curly red hair, pale skin, and pitch black eyes. Yet, for someone who brings the worst news, she always has floral dresses on. I started to panic. Death only comes to your door to do one thing, bring you to the afterlife. I couldn’t die then. I had so much more to do. There’s a promotion I was up for at work, my partner and I were about to take the next step in our relationship, and I was adopting a cat later this week. This can’t be the time. There had to be something I could do. Something that could make her go away. \n\nThe knocking persistently continued as I googled “How to make Death go away” and tried to find something in my apartment that might have scared her away. I picked up garlic and thought “Is it just a vampire thing or does it work on death too?”. She just continued knocking, this had to be the end for me she would have moved on by then if it wasn’t, right? \n\nAfter googling and searching I decided that there wasn’t much I could do at this point. I had to accept that Death was at my door and my time had come. With a deep breath and one last bite of my leftovers I unlocked and opened my door.\n\n“H-hi” I stuttered\n“Hey Jesse,” Death replied with a smile, “sorry if you were busy this is just really important.”\n“I figured, let’s just get this over with” I kneeled infront of her, figuring she would pull out some magically blade or something and take my soul away, but it was just silent. I looked up to see Death just staring at me bewildered.\n\nI awkwardly stood back you and quietly asked, “Are you not here to lead my soul into the afterlife? I didn’t think you just make visits.” \n\nDeath laughed, “No, that’s not why I’m here at all Jesse. I just have a favor to ask that’s all” \n\nI stood there stunned for a moment. \n\n“Okay well I guess I’ll just ask then.” She giggled, “I know you also use Avocado Mayo and no one else around us does. Can I borrow some if you have any? I have a bunch of friends coming over tomorrow for our annual ‘Spirits and Immortals Picnic’ and I really want to make them my great pasta salad.”\n\n“Y-yeah, let me...let me grab it. Come in, I guess?” I replied still in shock.\n\n“Oh my gosh, thank you so much!”\n\n“It’s no problem, there’s not much left so you can just have the rest. Sorry about the whole, thinking I was gonna die thing”\n\n“Oh it’s okay” she smiled and we walked back to the door, “You still have a couple more years before that visit. Bye!” \n\nWith that she closed the door and was gone. I stood there by my door for a moment until I decided to sit back down and finish my left overs. I took off my pants again, cuddled back up on my couch, and attempted to find something on Netflix. I reached peace again, I wasn’t dead and that was a great feeling. I took a couple more bites of my leftovers but then suddenly spit them out and just said to myself, “Wait! Did she say a couple of years?” \n\nEdit- Just to add this last part. This is the first time I’ve posted on here and I understand I’m not a strong writer so please be gentle. I would appreciate any constructive criticism though. ", "((Inspired by another mun here who wrote a thing about Death.))\n\nIt was an early Saturday morning, and I was barely awake and nursing a cup of coffee. I sat at my small table in my small apartment, trying to filter out rational thought from the feeling of tasting my own mouth.\n\nI had just moved into the neighborhood. It was one of those refuebishing ones, where the city was trying to turn it around. A lot of gangs used to live here and the like, and many still thought they lived here. Personally, i didn't care. Rent was cheap, and therefore good place to live.\n\nI was startled out of my petrified gaze by a couple knocks at my door. I barely registered them at all at first and took a sip of coffee. It happened again, so i checked the clock on my wall. 6:42. More knocks followed, which prompted me to shamble to my feet and shuffle to the door.\n\nI undid the locks and opened the door, and found no one there... until i looked down. Standing before me was... well, it looked like a grey-skinned kid with black hair down to her ass wearing a rainbow-unicorn sweater, booty shorts and a pair of fluffy pink slippers with the look of someone who had piss in her cheerios.\n\nI looked no more out of place. Full-blown neck beard, a skin tight and stained brony tank top, a pair of green boxers, a raggedy robe, and the same brand of slippers with a mug of coffee held against my gut.\n\nWe stood there, not saying anything until my mind turned on the speech mode. \n\n\"Hi,\" i daid while clearing my throat. She nodded and played with her hands akwardly.\n\n\"So... like... do you need something...?\" she paused and gave a nod.\n\n\"Okay... uh...\" It was clear at this point that this wasn't going to be an easy day... so... i asked what was most pertinent on my mind. \"Need... coffee...\"\n\nShe shook her head.\n\n\"Well... how about some tea?\"\n\nAgain, no.\n\n\"... ... ... hot chocolate?\"\n\nShe considered it but shook her head.\n\n\"Could ya maybe tell me what you are after?\" I asked with a yawn. I wasn't payong much attention as the coffee once more became necessary to function. She ran off leacing me a little perplexed. I closed the door behind me and went back to my tiny kitchen and settled to work on waking up again. Blink. Sip. Repeat.\n\nThen, there was a knock at my door... again. I stood up to find that giel from earlier. She held in her hands a jar... reading was still being loaded, but i soon spelled out the first few. M-a-u, no... M-a-y-o...\n\n\"... don't think i got mayo, but i might have some miracle whip-\" she sort of slipped inside with her jar of mayo and waltzed into my kitchen. Before i could register what had happened, she waltzed back out with my Miracle Whip.\n\nI stood there. Blink. Sip. \n\nI then closed the door. I needed to unpack.\n\nAround 4:00 pm, when i was awake, i got another knock... a frantic, and impatient knock. I hauled myself away from a pile of boxes and opened the door to find another girl... different to edgequeen from this morning. She let out a sigh of relief.\n\n\"Thank god, you are still alive...\" she said. \n\n\"Yeah... um... do I know you?\" I asked with a confused tone.\n\n\"Oh! N-no... um... I'm just your neighbor. Hi. Welcome to the neighborhood! Mr. Um...\"\n\n\"Paul. Just Paul.\"\n\n\"Well, Paul, I just thought I'd return this back...\" she handed me a jar of Miracle whip. It finally clicked.\n\n\"Sorry about this morning. My roomate just discovered breakfast sandwiches and... well... it's good to see everything worked out...\"\n\n\"Ohnn it wasn't any problem. I was really awake yet, but it was no issue...\" I paused for a moment. \"I mean, living with a special needs-\"\n\n\"Nonononono... she is not special needs...\" the qoman replied with an awkward laugh. \n\n\"Oh, sorry... I just assumed... she didn't say anything...\" \n\n\"She doesn't get out much... but she might... I mean, she kinda likes your shirt...\"\n\nI blinked and remembered my brony tank. \"Yeah? Well... that's good...\"\n\n\"She says to tell you that 'Fluttershy is best pone' or something...\"\n\nI smirked. \"Yeah well... anyways, no need to apologize...\" i sais with a nod.\n\n\"Great! Thanks Paul!\" She said with a wave. She quivkly left after that. \n\n\"Rainbow Dash is clearly best...\" i muttered while closing the door.", "Death and I were neighbors,\nIt's less weird than it sounds.\nWe'd shoot the shit, she'd tell me\nWho she killed when making rounds.\n\nOne day she came to ask a favor,\nKnocking with a friendly \"Heyo!\"\nI stared, said \"Don't care who you are,\nWho the fuck asks to borrow mayo?\"", "Chad grumbled as the doorbell rung, they were ruining his fap hour!\nChad was going to give the unlucky visitor's ears a song of violent rage and sexual frustration when he paused. \n\nAt his door was a beautiful young woman who could not have been any older than in her early twenties. Her face was hidden by a black hood but Chad could make out that her skin was deathly pale. \n\n\"Well hello there beautiful, how can I help you?\" said Chad as he straightened lent against the door way keeping his eyes on the strange's chest. \n\n\"Well...I was wondering if you had any spare mayonnaise?\" said the young woman in voice that whispered like a gentle breeze. \n\n\"Oh I have plenty of mayonnaise that I'd love to share with you, if you know what I mean,\" said Chad grinning while making pelvic thrusts. \n\n\"Ugh...you know what? Never mind, I have a boyfriend\", said the woman as a disgusted expression now painted her pretty face. \n\n\"Hey baby where are you go-\"\n\nChad was cut off as the woman summoned a scythe and disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. \n\n\"Aw man...why do nice guys like me always finish last?\" muttered Chad as he wandered back into his pornography riddled house. \n\nNote: I still need improvements in my dialogue and characterisation but I thought it would be a fun idea and I hope you were at least entertained xD ", "Knock Knock.\n\n\"Hey Agnes\"\n\nSo it begins again. The incessant bugging. When I moved, they said that this was a quiet neighborhood. That was the main reason I came here, but the \"friend\" to the left is so forgetful I feel I have to buy two of everything when I shop, as if my kid still lives at home. The only difference is that at least I get something substantial out of it. And my, is it worth it.\n\nHell, an extra item is no big deal in the end.\n\n...\n\nAgnes: \"....Death? Again? What did you forget this time?\"\n\nDeath: \"So sorry to bother you this late dear, but it really is important this time. You know I wouldn't bother you if I had any other choice.\"\n\nAgnes: \"I know, I know. So what is it? What can I help you with?\"\n\nDeath: \"Well you see, my wife...you know how forgetful she is...forgot the main condiment for tonight and well...uhm...Netflix just won't be the same without...\"\n\nAgnes: \"I've told you this before, and I'll tell you a thousand times. I will not, and will never buy KY Jelly. Let alone give it to you.\"\n\nHonestly, the nerve of him.\n\nDeath: \"Oh god no. No, no, no. You misunderstand me Agnes. I just want some mayonnaise for tonights BLT's. They just aren't the same with out it, you know?\"\n\nOops.\n\nAgnes: \"Oh...well, give me a second.\"\n\n...\n\nAgnes: \"Here you go. Sorry for lashing out. Assuming, and that old saying that goes with it you know.\"\n\nDeath: \"Yes, definitly. Totally understand. Well thank you so much. You saved the day again dear. Haha\"\n\nThe way he cackles always sent a shiver up my spine. Unnatural, that is. Then again, he is Death.\n\nDeath: \"I assume you want the usual?\"\n\nAgnes: \"Of course, if it's not a bother.\"\n\nDeath: \"For all the things you've done for me, Agnes, it's never a bother.\"\n\n...\n\nIt's not like I can complain. The perk that comes with that mayonaise jar is the same that comes with each item I give to him.\nExtra 1 year of living.\nMight not seems like a lot to most, but the amount I give, well...all I can say is I can't wait to meet my newest great great great great grandchild tomorrow.\n\nAll I can hope is that I don't meet him at the hospital. One thing for sure is that I am not jealous of his job one bit...\n\nEdit: A word", "The knock echoes through the house even if it's just a single, hard rap. I know who it is immediately and that's concerning. Slowly I step across the wood floors to the front door and turn the handle. I take a deep breath and open it just enough to see her.\n\nShe's in her mid fifties and looks like she's always on the cusp of becoming the sweet grandma that bakes cookies for the neighbourhood kids. She's been living in this area for as long as I can remember, right next to me. The real estate agent had told me to be cautious about living here, most people didn't stay after all.\n\nLiving next to Death will do that.\n\n\"Oh relax,\" she says with a wave of her hand, \"I'm not here for business. I'm having some friends over for tea and I was putting together some egg salad for sandwiches and by golly, I've run out of mayo. Could you help me out?\"\n\nI open the door and nod, swallowing hard. Even if she says it's not business...well it still weirds me out.\n\n\"Yeah, of course, just...through here.\"\n\nHey eyes sparkle as she laughs politely.\n\n\"Honey, I know where it is.\"\n\nRight. She's Death. All knowing, powerful kind of thing. She can probably hear my thoughts. That's even more unsettling.\n\n\"Don't worry sweetie, I don't listen in. Gosh, if I did I'd have a headache for the next eon or two. So many of you always chattering at the same time.\"\n\nShe takes off her shoes and sets them on the mat, despite my protests.\n\n\"Your house, I'm not going to walk my filthy shoes across this wonderful floor. Laminate or real?\"\n\n\"Honestly I don't know,\" I say, closing the door and heading for the kitchen as she follows, \"never asked. It was the only place I could afford near work.\"\n\nI feel a hand on my shoulder, cold and heavy. She turns me around looks at me with very serious eyes.\n\n\"Malcolm, things are going to turn around for you. I promise.\"\n\nShe pats me on the cheek and off she goes for the kitchen. I stand there feeling the cold spread through my body, giving me intense shivers. From her touch or the sheer jitters, I don't know.\n\n\"Oh my, you do keep a clean fridge!\" she laughs, standing with the door open and fetching a jar of mayo from the door.\n\n\"Why don't you join us!\" she sets in on the counter and looks at me, \"we've got a few characters you might recognize coming out. Fate is incredibly cute...and single.\"\n\nI stare at her blankly. Is...is she trying to set me up?\n\n\"Malcolm, tell you what, I insist you join us. We might even have a job opportunity for someone like you.\"\n\n\"Pardon me?\"\n\n\"Such manners!\" she claps her hands together giddily, retrieving the mayo from the counter and heading for the front door. She pats me on the cheek again as she goes by and smile sweetly at me. Behind it I see something else though.\n\n\"I hear there's been some...grim news...that some people reap what the sowed.\"\n\n\"That...that means nothing to me,\" I stammer it out, that cold spreading again.\n\n\"I know dear, come help me with the sandwiches and we'll talk. Fate really is cute, you'll just love her.\"\n\nWell...she's always been nice enough. Sweet old lady even if she is the gatherer of humanity's souls. And it's been a while since I talked to anyone cute. I think for a moment as she opens the front door to let herself out, having put her shoes back on.\n\n\"Well, what harm could it do.\"\n\nShe turns and looks at me with that sweet little smile again.\n\n\"Oh nothing dear, it's not like you can die when you're having a get together with the likes of us. Not unless we decide to of course!\"\n\nShe giggles to herself and disappears out the door.\n\nI shiver but this time it's a little of the cold and a little of the touch but also some anticipation. How many people get the chance to be friends with Death? Fate? Life? Hope? She knows some real interesting types. Even if it's all a little unsettling.\n\nI grab my shoes and open the door to the neighbourhood, a beautiful sunny day with neighbours out cutting their lawns and washing cars and playing with their children. They all watch her cross the street from my house, all wary. As I follow they watch me. Some hurry their children inside. Some just gawk.\n\nShe opens the door to her home and beckons me inside. I can't see past the threshold of the door. I take a deep breath and take the step as the entire neighbourhood watches.\n\nNot foreboding at all.\n\nThen the door closes." ]	8
	[WP] You’ve spent your life convinced that reality revolves around you, and everyone else is acting as your supporting cast. You’ve just found out you’re wrong and you’re actually just one of the co-stars, and reality really revolves around someone else. And you can’t believe who that person is.	[ "So, everyone in my life was supposedly the supporting cast.\n\nUntil today. I learnt they were the main stars and I was of some importance, perhaps not huge but still important.\n\nThe person who was important, well, rather it wasn't a person, it was police in California. Buena Vista Police Department. LAPD.\nPlus some officers from Arkansas State Police too.\n\nBut this wasn't a reality show. It was an episode of ITV's popular cop show Police Camera Action, which is a documentary.\n\nThe star's supposedly some guy called Alastair Stewart, but aren't the cops the stars too?\n\nWe get that show here in California as an import, just a week after the Brits get it. Not a bad cop show.... a change from COPS for once.\n\nBut I'm not just the co-star in that. I was also in a Dispatches on Channel 4 about the public and their attitudes to law enforcement in California, which also aired a week later, in November 1996, just a week after that Police Camera Action episode.\n\nI'm not the star of that episode - the LAPD is yet again. Those damn Brits.\n\nDon't know who the hell this Kathy woman is who's narrating Dispatches, but she's the main star apparently, even though she's only on it in person at the beginning and end, although she's doing the voice-overs.", "I consider pretty much everyone in my life “extras.” From a young age I’d solidified in my mind time and time again that I am the star of this show of life, as selfish as it sounds to say it. When I say things , people listen. When I want something, people get it for me. I’ve never had any evidence otherwise. I didn’t try to abuse it, I know that in their everyday lives, the extras had bad things happen in their lives like sometimes bad things happened to me. \n\tIt comes in handy on days like today, when I forget money for my lunch at school. The good thing about going to a high school with over a thousand students is at least one of them is bound to give me something when I ask for it. This day my eyes were drawn to Tim, a short, mild-mannered kid who lived down the road from me. I’d usually see him out riding his bike with his friends. There was always something off about Tim. Just about any time I’d glance at him, he’d be looking at me with a determined expression, like he knew that I was seeing things the way I did and was forming some way to expose me. It was for this reason that I had never talked to him before but today he was the nearest to me, and my stomach was growling. \n\tI strode over to Tim and tapped him on the shoulder. Tim turned slowly to face me. “Can I help you?” His tone was accusing, and rather off-putting. \n\t“Yeah,” I responded, more matter-of-factually and angrily than I meant for it to sound. “I don’t have any money for lunch, can you give me some?” I should have said please. Even though everyone was an extra, it wasn’t an excuse for me to be rude, but Tim’s attitude had caught me off guard. \n\t“No.” Said Tim. I was taken aback. This had not happened before. I stood there with a blank expression as he continued: “You’ve been hurting and bullying people for too long. I’m not going to give you my lunch money today or any other day, and neither will anyone else here.” By now a crowd had formed around us, and after Tim’s last words several started to murmur in agreement. \n\t“But-” I began speaking, but was cut off by Tim. “From now on,” he said, “You don’t make the rules. You don’t get to have whatever you want. You are not the star of this show.” This final phrase struck me like a punch to the gut. I looked around and saw everyone cheering for Tim. A few football players came and boosted him on their shoulders, and paraded out of the lunchroom down the halls of the school. I was left standing there with a sullen expression and coming to a stark realization. I really wasn’t the star of the show. This display proved that Tim must be that. \n\tAnd in this show not only am I not the star. \n\tI’m the bad guy." ]	2
	[WP] Waking up one morning, you find yourself in a house you've never been in, in a town you've never visited, with a husband/wife you've never met, and a job you've never had.	[ "My bed was unusually comfortable that morning. Too comfortable. The way I sunk so deeply into that silky cloud was almost disturbingly alien. I practically had to swim out of bed, and when I finally won that fight I noticed that I had been laying next to a beautiful woman. \n\nI had to give myself a little pat on the back, though I would have liked to remember the evening. I told myself I would go easy on the sauce next time. \n\nWait I realized. I didn't drink last night.\n\n\"Good morning, sweetheart.\" The gorgeous woman, with her long, curly, golden colored hair said to me with the sweetest voice. \n\n\"Good morning!\" I said, panicking for excuses as to why I couldn't remember last night. \n\n\"How did you sleep?\" She asked, now propped up by an imposingly soft pillow. \n\n\"I must have slept really, really well.\" I said, while scratching my head. \"Umm... how well do you remember last night?\" \n\n\"You got home late, per usual, after a busy night at the hospital-\" She started. \n\n\"Wait, what?\" I asked, looking around for my buddies, or hidden cameras. \"What is this? Come on.\"\n\nAfter an awkward silence, the woman looked defeated and said, \"Oh no, not again.\"\n\n\"Not again what?\" I was leaning straight back against the wall, bracing myself with sweaty hands. \n\n\"Hunny, don't panic, okay. You're safe. I love you.\" She said. \"We'll get you through this. We've done it before.\"\n\nHer sincerity was terrifying. Either she was the greatest actress in the world, or she really believed what she was saying. I just stood there, stupefied, staring. \n\n\"So... who are you this time?\" She asked from the edge of the bed. \n\n\"Umm... my name is Alex Price.\" I said, hoping she would bust out laughing, and that my friends would come charging through the door. \n\n\"My name is Samantha Westfall. I was Samantha Johansson until three years ago, when I married you, Charlie. Charlie Westfall.\" She told me. She was looking at me so carefully... longingly. \n\nI had to get some air. I walked to the door, into a hallway which had a stone floor, and followed the natural light into a large, open room. Outside it was snowing, which was unexpected, since it was the middle of July when I went to sleep last night. I stood there, frozen. \n\n\"Char--Alex, talk to me, okay? Please, just sit down, let's talk. Would you like a drink?\" Samantha asked, while moving swiftly into the kitchen. Her red pajamas hugged her bottom so perfectly I nearly forgot about my predicament. \n\nShe continued talking to me while she removed two glasses from the cupboard, and a few things from the fridge. \"Okay, so your name is Alex Pr... ice, was it? Okay, Alex, where are you from?\"\n\n\"Omaha.\" I told her. \"Born and raised.\"\n\n\"Really? That's interesting. I've always been in Upstate New York. I met my husband in the city at a conference. Instant fireworks.\" She said, trying her best to convince me she wasn't panicking. \n\n\"Where's your bathroom?\" I asked her. \n\n\"It's this way.\" She said, waiting for me to walk into the kitchen. \n\nI followed her through the open kitchen, then around a corner toward a den. I found the bathroom on my left. I walked in, shut the door, and flipped on the light.\n\nIt was my face. \n\nRelief poured through me for the first time since I awoke that morning, which allowed me to finally catch my breath. \n\n\"Hunny? I'm sorry, Alex?\" Samantha pleaded through the door. She was so worried about her husband. \n\nI opened the door, and stood face to face with her. Somehow she was even more beautiful up close. I took a cautious step closer, inviting an embrace. We clearly both needed it. She held on tight. \n\nAfter a few moments I told her I needed to use her computer. She pulled away and looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. \n\n\"My computer? As in Yahoo?\" She asked. \"Sure, you always leave your contacts in the bathroom, the bedroom bathroom.\"\n\n\"What?\" I felt lost. \n\nShe disappeared into the hall, in the direction of the bedroom, and a moment later came back with a blue box in her hand. \"Here, put these in.\"\n\nI opened the box to reveal two contacts that had a web of very small lines going through it. I put them in, and blinked a few times to make sure they were secure. \n\nI looked at Samantha, confused. \n\n\"Now look at the wall.\" She said. \n\nWhen I looked at the wall a menu appeared. I reached my hand out, which amused Samantha so much she chuckled. \n\n\"Hold on.\" She said. She ran to the bathroom, and a minute later came back. \n\nSuddenly the menu I was looking at was accompanied by the words, \"Samantha has logged in.\"\n\n\"Come here.\" She said, then she took my hand and guided me to the couch. The menu seemed to travel along the walls and furniture beside me, following Samantha. She seemed to be willing it to go with her.\n\n\"What are you trying to do?\" She asked. \n\n\"I want to talk to my buddy Tom.\" I said. \n\n\"Okay, Tom what?\" She asked. 'Tom' appeared on wall where the menu had been. \n\n\"Griffin.\" I told her. \n\n\"Alex, you're not going to find what you're looking for.\" She said, while placing a warm, sympathetic hand on my shoulder. \n\nShe was right. My buddy was not online anywhere. At least, not with that name. And I was ready to believe that he wouldn't know me even if I could find him. \n\n\"Tell me, Samantha,\" I said. \"When this happened before, did your husband remember everything?\"\n\n\"Yes. He did, but vaguely. He was Christopher Sheldon.\" She said, with a new sadness in her voice. \n\n\"What happened?\" I asked, wanting the whole story. I picked up my drink and drained it onto the back of my tongue. \n\n\"Charlie was sleeping on this couch. He was just taking a nap, maybe 15 minutes. He woke up as Chris. It was really scary. He left. I called the authorities, telling them that my husband was missing, and that he was vulnerable. The police found him later that day after he had broken into someone's house in New Hampshire.\" Samantha said, now holding my hand. \"He was trying to go home.\"\n\n\"How long was Chris... with you?\" I asked.\n\n\"Three years.\" She said. \n\n--part two upon request--" ]	1
	[WP] You're the captain of the guard in a city in an average fantasy universe. A band of adventurers with a distinct air of protagonists about them recently came to town. How does hell break loose?	[ "\"Hmm...so a grandfatherly mage,woman dragon hunter an exiled grizzled general and a blacksmiths son ay?\"\n\n\"Well yes said the old man we have a very important task and cannot be delayed you see–\"\n\n\"Yeah,yeah your on some Quest to save your country or the entire world maybe.i know the deal.\"\n\n\"Then why the hell have you detained us\" said the a woman with more scars than knives.which was actually a damned great feat.\n\nWell because the last time we had few heroes who didn't give us some damn insight in a some quest the people who came looking for them didn't like the answers my boss gave them and now I'm the boss. I never wanted to be boss but you damn people keep showing up.just a couple of months ago it was the bastard prince and the warrior princess lovers or whatever on the run from some duke\n\n\"actually sir.\"the Lieutenant chimed in.\"that was last year a couple days ago it was the the human male that bonded with the dragon in the company of a female elf and a very drunk and angry dwarf.\"\n\n\"Oh right something was wrong with them didn't like they're smell.and I swear I keep forgetting what they look like it's–\"\n\n\"Almost as if they put a spell on you\".said the large man with just a short sword strapped to his hip.\n\n\"Tell me this group wouldn't happen to still be here would they.\"\n\n\"Well yes they are staying at the Golden Arrow inn\nbe careful going in there there's this new bartender who always wants to tell you his life story\"\n\n\"Well what's wrong with that\"said the giant kid with hair as red as flames\n\n\"Well nothing but the man take three whole days to tell it I mean I like stories as well as any–\"\n\n\"The travelers Captain?\"\n\nAh yes... wait.why do you care so much about them again ? \n\n\"Well for one; the human is known as Baldac the Butcher slaughtered his entire city because I beat his army and wouldn't let his people become part of the empire.\"\n\n\"And the Dragon is Zaltorix the Eternal he once burned down my entire city just for a warm spot to sleep during his migration south.i have Ben chasing him since I was a child\"\n\n\"The Elf is my student Ferin Darkblade who stole the codex of the dead from my forbidden dark arts library with it she can resurrect the greatest warriors and bind them to her will.\"\n\n\"And–\"\n\n\"And the the dwarf killed your parents\".Captain said to the big kid full of angst.\n\n\"How did you know?\"\n\nThe captain rolled his eyes but before he could respond the door behind him slammed open revealing three distinctly different silhouettes \n\n\"Well I guess you found us\".Baldac the Butcher said.his words echoed by a great screech outside.\n\nThe Captain got out two words before he died \n\"...Damned adventurers.\"\n\nThunk. thunk. thunk. \n\n\"that is why this board says \n\nNo adventurers's allowed\n\n lieutenant.because there's no way in hell I'm giving up this Captain gig.I just got it a few days ago and can someone get that damned dead dragon out of the mayor lake it been rotting in there for a week now.\"\n\n\"On it sir\" the new lieutenant was sure of one thing it was that he did not want to be the Captain of the guard.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] People with telepathy were around long ago, but died out from insanity. Schizophrenics are all that remain of them.	[ "\"Eggs, milk, bread, juice. Eggs, milk, bread, juice.” The words repeated over and over in my head as I walked to the bus stop. My wife was right. I hate it when she’s right; I should have written a list. \nOver and over my mantra went in my head until it started to match my steps. “Step, eggs, step, milk, step, bread, step, juice.” Darn, I was early. I decided to stand instead of risk sitting on the rain spattered metal seat. I wished I could sit. I thought perhaps sitting in the clear bus stop box would create a barrier between me and the homeless man now laying next to me. \nI put an earbud in my ear and repeated my list for the hundredth time. The lips of the homeless man started to move and I heard the faintest of words, “Eggs, milk, bread, juice.” I removed the ear bud and listened again. He spoke the same words. It was clear as day. He was repeating my list, out loud! I don’t remember talking; maybe he was reading my lips. \nI turned to look at him, “Uh, sir. Hi, could you repeat what you just said?”\nHe grumbled his way to a standing position, “What? Huh?”\n“You just said something; could you repeat it?”\nThe man stared at me like I was the crazy one, “Eggs…milk, bread…juice.” \n“Can you read lips or something?”\n“Uh no,” he started to walk away. I followed. \n“Sir, hey sir! Wait up! How did you do that?” \nHis walk turned into a run. I chased him. \n“Sir, sir please. I just want to know…how did you do that?” I asked between breaths. \n“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you?” \n“Try me.” \n\n", "They were called mad, but they really weren't. They were simply people who had the ability to see the world for what it really was. In death, they passed on their abilities, by leaving us their precious relics. \n\n*\n\nClosed down psych wards, and abandoned hospitals really are the best places to find the relics. Sometimes they're lying around on the ground, sometimes they're hidden behind debree, sometimes they're still attached. \n\nAs morbid as it seems, consuming the relics might be the only way to absorb the abilities of those who were called mad, and to see the world for what it really is. \n\n*\n\nI did some research and found out there was a grave nearby belonging to a man who claimed to hear the thoughts of others. \n\nObviously I did what any reasonable person would do. I grabbed a couple of shovels and went on a road trip to the cemetery. \n\nSurprisingly, I didn't really need a a lamp or anything, the moonlight seemed to be particularly illuminating that night. \n\nAfter digging for a while I heard a ding. After I dug some more, the coffin was exposed. \n\nI threw away the shovel, got down on my knees, and I opened the lid. There it was, the precious relic, staring back at me with its hollowed eyes. \n\nI picked up the skull of the madman, and consumed it for it's knowledge. When I looked up, there was no difference. The world looked and felt the same. \n\nIt was fine though, because somehow I knew, I only needed to find a dozen more skulls, to start seeing the world for what it really was. " ]	2
	[WP] "Hey, Doc. I don't think these pills are working. I'm seeing a wolf and dragon following me and I keep hearing the voices screaming." The psychiatrist stares in horror at the creatures behind his patient.	[ "“By the gods Charlie!”\n\nI raise myself from the seat,only to sit down again as the werewolf snarled at me with a mouth of a thousand razors.\n\n“I distinctly remember telling you to take a pill every morning and evening!”\n\n“Yeah doc,but It’s really hard!”\n\n“Alright alright. Take this pill for now. It will help.”\n\nCharlie swallowed the pill,and looked at me.\n\n“Doesn’t feeEEeeEeee...”\n\nHe slumped in his chair,as the werewolf caught him from falling off. The dragon huffed in disapproval.\n\n“Steve,Ted.” I stood up from my desk.\n\nThe two straightened up,the werewolf grimacing.\n\n“Listen doc,I can explain...”\n\n“Who did you sell it to this time?”\n\nThe dragon sighed. “Told you it was a bad idea Ted.”\n\nThe werewolf stepped on the dragon’s scaly foot.\n\n“Well,Steve,if you didn’t torch the damn stash we wouldn’t be here.”\n\n“Don’t lie to me Ted.” I said,now walking up to the two supernaturals.\n\n“You know invisibility pills sell for a hefty price at the spider bazaar,and I know that Cassandra wasn’t having a outdoors birthday party last night!” \n\n“Alright,alright!” Said the werewolf,now slumping against the wall. Charlie was snoozing away on the armchair.\n\n“Its Cassandra’s fylactory. We pawned it at this human pawnshop thinking we’d be able to pay it off,get it back without a fuss.”\n\n“Now we’re broke,and Cassandra’s fylactroy is in some damn auction house waiting to be sold.”\n\nA loud scream suddenly filled the room. Charlie flinched,but didn’t wake.\n\n“Shut up Alex.”\n\n“Rude.” Said a bodiless voice. “You know I have the audition coming soon,and instead of encouragement you tell me to shut my trap,ya stinking sack of fur and-“\n\nI held my hands up. “This is the third time you’ve come to me asking for more invisibility pills. Was Steve in this all along? Why is Alex even here?”\n\n“Well doc,I think there’s a way you can help us...”\n\n\n\n", "Gawking in complete and utter disbelief I couldn't bring myself to utter a single sentence. This man walked into my office with a literal wolf, dragon, and the audible noise of screaming in his wake.\n\nBefore I could muster an incoherent scream in fear, the dragon held up a sign. \n\nPLAY ALONG. YOU LIVE.\n\nDON'T. YOU DIE.\n\nFear was, to say the least, my only motivator in this moment.\n\n\"Hey, Doc. I don't think these pills are working. I'm seeing a wold and dragon following me and I keep hearing the voices screaming.\" He said, completely at ease as though he truly believed none of this was real.\n\n\"Is-\" I started, my voice a high-pitched squeak. Clearing my throat, I glanced at the dragon, still holding the sign, and the wolf, now barring its fangs and growling at me. \"Is that so?\" I managed to blurt out. \"H- how can I- uh- help you?\" I stammered. \n\n\"Got anything stronger doc?\" He asked calmly, as though he was ordering off a take-out menu.\n\nThe dragon let the card it was holding slip to the floor to reveal a new sign.\n\nGIVE DRUGS.\n\n\"Uh- Sure. Yeah. One... uh... moment.\" I responded. \"Name?\"\n\n\"Jake.\" He replied.\n\n\"Cool.\" I responded. Staring blankly at him as I typed his first name into the directory. Clicking on the first name to appear without bothering to notice if it was him. Without even looking at his prescription I grabbed at a random pill bottle on the shelf and pushed it across the counter.\n\nAt that moment, the dragon dropped the sign to reveal yet another.\n\nMORE DRUGS.\n\nA low rumbling growl from the wolf caused a chill to run down my spine as I started tossing random bottles of drugs onto the counter until the shelves behind me were empty. \n\n\"Can I get a bag?\" He asked, as though this was a normal trip down to the convenience store.\n\nOne again, the dragon dropped a sign.\n\nNO.\n\nGlancing between the man, the dragon, and the wolf, I spent a solid twenty seconds staring at them as I debated my next course of actions. \"Sorry.\" I said. \"No- uh... bags. Are left. No bags are left. All- uh- out of bags.\" I lied, poorly, considering the bags are in a dispenser on the wall next to me.\n\n\"Uhm... Ok.\" He said, scooping as many bottle as he could from the counter into his pockets and hands. I simply stared directly past him at the monsters behind him, the sound of screaming voices resonating in my skull as he stepped closer to grab the narcotics. \n\nThe dragon dropped another sign.\n\nTHANK YOU.\n\n\"Your welcome.\" I said, my tone dull and emotionless.\n\n\"Thanks...\" He replied, confused and slightly offended, as though he thought I was trying to rush him away.\n\nAs he turned around the dragon quickly hid the signs and watched him as he walked past out of the door. Before following, the dragon and wolf looked back at me once and revealed a new sign.\n\nBYE.\n\nLOSER.\n\nThen they both left, following the man outside. Unable to process what I'd just seen, I took a bottle of pills that was left on the counter and popped a few to relax me. Letting my shoulders slump as I fell back against the wall.\n\nOnly to be jolted back into reality by the sounds of horrified screams all around me. Looking frantically about I see another dragon and wolf, different from the ones I had just seen. And once again, this dragon is holding a sign.\n\nSHOULDN'T HAVE\n\nTAKEN PILLS\n\nTerrified, I watched with desolate anticipation as the dragon dropped the sign to reveal another.\n\nSTUPID.\n\nMORE DRUGS.\n", "How did a wolf and a dragon get into my office? They were so lifelike too, the wolf baring its fangs and the dragon inhaling, ready for a blast of fire. Fortunately, I heard no voices screaming, except for maybe my own suppressed horror. Okay, relax. Remember your training. Rarely can your patients project their own disorders onto you, and this is one of the times. This isn't real! I then went down to the next level. \"Be honest with me, where did you get the holograms?\"\n\n\"Doc! This isn't a prank, and if you can see them that means they're as real as I think they are!\" \n\nClearly, patient isn't being coherent. Patience. Let's try something else. \"Do you have control over the wolf and dragon?\"\n\n\"I guess? They stop when I stop, move when I move, haven't attacked me yet, etc.\"\n\n\"Get them to sit down beside you and lie down on the couch.\" Patient complies.\n\n\"Now, what do you think the wolf and the dragon symbolise?\"\n\n\"I don't know, that's not in my pay grade; it's in yours.\" The wolf howled - nearly sounded like laughter - what a snarky patient. Clearly, sarcasm hasn't been one of the mental faculties he'd given up.\n\nLet's talk about his life. Patient reports having colluded with his colleagues to engineer the downfall of a particularly irritating coworker. Patient reflects upon feeling an intense feeling of pride and achievement, though tempered with destruction. Diagnosis: hallucinations are symbols of events in his life. Doesn't explain why I can see them though.\n\nI sure hope that earlier prank of mine to hide wolf-puppets and a toy dragon in patient's house, coordinated with Drs. Bentley, Maxime and Prof. Jones, had nothing to do with it. If it were successful, we'd have been so proud to have proven our theory that hallucinations can be triggered by the most innocuous of objects, and we had so much fun doing it anyway. " ]	3
	[WP] The world is stuck in a time loop, repeating the same day over and over: you're the only one who doesn't remember when the day restarts.	[ "I woke with a start.\n\n\nWhat a strange dream...\n\n\nThe only thing I could remember was some crazy lady, screaming at me that it was my fault, while the cords of her neck stood out in stark relief, and she stabbed me over and over again.\n\n\nShaking out the mental cobwebs, I got out of bed, and set about my morning routine. A few miles on the treadmill, followed by usual oatmeal and coffee, and I was off to get ready for work. It didn't feel any different from any other morning I could remember, but I'd never been concerned with that sort of thing. And, really, it felt like a good day, one that I could wish would go on and on, forever.\n\n\nWhen I got in my car, though, I began to see people acting strangely. They milled about on the sidewalk and in my neighbors' driveways, and I couldn't recognize hardly any of them. But they all seemed to glare balefully at me as I drove past them, and I eventually just avoided them by keeping my eyes on the road.\n\n\nThinking that there might be some kind of event in town that I'd missed, I turned on the one radio station that I could stand listening to. They must have changed the format to some kind of science fiction audiobook nonsense, though, because they kept going on about Day 18,748, whatever that meant. I could have sworn I heard them mention my name and hometown, too, but there was a scuffle in the studio, and things cut out before I could hear more.\n\n\n''Who knew that radio dramas were a thing again?\" I muttered, and turned the radio off.\n\n\nI pulled into the DMV parking lot exactly eight minutes later, and, since there weren't any other cars there, yet, took the time to back into one of the employee spots. I couldn't help but let out a tut-tut at the fact that I was the first one at the office; I really was going to have to lay down the law with the others. Honestly, why did they think that people hated the DMV so much? It was because of things just like DMV personnel not showing up on time to work, and making the public have to wait in longer lines.\n\n\nI fumbled for my keys at the door, surprised to find it locked, and dropped them on the sidewalk. I started to bend to pick them up, but a hand shot out from behind me to grab the key ring.\n\n\n''Oh, allow me,\" the man said, holding the keyring out towards me. \"Here.\"\n\n\nI immediately disliked him. He was smiling, but his eyes were too over-bright and glassy, as if a thin film of mirth hid something far deeper and filled with malice. To me, he looked like a junkie; one of those meth faces or whatever they were being called at the moment. If he would have fidgeted, even a little, that would have completed my mental image of a druggie, but he was almost perfectly still. So still that, had I not been looking right at him, he might have been invisible.\n\n\nI took my keys with a disoriented, mumbled thanks, and tried to press myself up against the doors in an attempt to make it as easy as possible to dart inside. The man just stood there, wearing his dark jeans and darker hoodie, smiling at me and staying freakishly still while I watched his reflection in the door's glass. I expected him to move, to launch himself at me, but he didn't. \n\n\nSomehow, that was worse, like he was in on some secret joke I wasn't, but that he barely contained the laughter of.\n\n\nI managed to get inside the building, and close and lock the doors. My heart was racing, but I felt safe enough inside to begin to relax a little.\n\n\nIt wasn't until I reached my desk that I realized something very wrong was going on. All over it, that same two words were written, carved, and smeared. From the look and smell of it, whoever had vandalized it had used everything from ink and marker, to blood and feces, and had written the same words, over and over again.\n\n\nYour fault.\n\n\nI backed away from my desk, heart pounding again, and the hot metallic taste of panic in my mouth. Mind racing, I knew that I had to get out of there; had to get away from whatever sickness seemed to be infecting people.\n\n\nThe man from the front door, somehow inside with me, stepped out from behind a partition to block my path. His eyes gleamed even brighter in the darkened room, but not as brightly as the hammer he was holding in his hand. What I'd mistaken for a smile was actually a maddened grimace, and I could almost smell the ill intent coming off him in waves.\n\n\n''Your fault,\" he rasped, pushing me backwards. \"All your fault. All. Your. Fault!\"\n\n\nHis hammer rose, then fell onto me with the muted crack of my collar bone snapping. Pain, bright and red and sickeningly hot rushed through me, and I dropped to the floor. \n\n\nThe last thing I remembered, before fading out, was the man, kneeling over me, and crashing the hammer down onto me again and again in time to his chant. \"All.\" Thud. \"Your.\" Thud. \"Fault!\" Thud.\n\n\nI woke with a start..." ]	1
	[WP] Aliens have made humans their pets, but everything is going surprisingly well for us.	[ "The ship was somewhere around the Andromeda galaxy as far as I was aware, on its way to some alien world no less. We had only left Earth a week ago as Ferden wanted to see the natural landscape of humanity, the species his kind treated as pets.\n\nIt was weird being one. They came to Earth, conquered it rather easily... then got to work repairing the environment, saving animal and plant species we considered endangered...\n\nI never had a pet myself growing up, my parents wouldn't allow it. I always wanted a cat, though. Rather strange that a cat-like alien would be the one to \"Adopt\" me.\n\n'Good morning, Michael,' Ferden said over the speaker. 'You said you were a cat person... didn't think that meant the laziness as well.'\n\n'Yeah, yeah...' I grumbled as I lifted the sheets off and stood up. The sheets were yanked away by some mechanical arm that also stripped the bed and tossed the mattress. At the same time I felt clothing appearing on my frame, a red stringer tank top over my chest, grey sweatpants on my legs and some workout sneakers on my feet.\n\nI was rather... surprised given my rather light frame, maybe even podgy. 'Uh, Ferden?' I asked in confusion. 'Did you order me new clothing off some cheap site? Because these don't fit. At all. The shoes in particular are uncomfortable and-'\n\nHe merely chuckled, something I've come to fear. 'Come meet me in the terrarium.'\n\nThe ship's internal tram picked me up and the ten-minute train ride above the internal gardens and miniature islands which I saw the tiger-like being running along, heavy weights strapped to his body. Must've caught the exercise bug.\n\nI got off the tram just as he had ran up to me, the eight-foot tall being throwing his sandals and exercise gear off and dropping into the nearest pool of cold water with a delighted sigh. 'Uh oh,' I said with realization. 'You've got a date.'\n\nHe merely chuckled as he rested his arms on the edge. Ferden's species... They don't do courtship like humans do. No long-term relationships, no dating... They had meet-ups where a single male would sleep with as many women as possible over a single week. Males were rare, so this was a regular occurrence for his species. Especially a well-desired stud like him.\n\nI didn't even notice the medical drone flying behind me and grabbing my arm. 'Shit!' I cursed as it injected something into me. 'You could warn me first!'\n\n'And why spoil the surprise?' Felden asked with a chuckle. 'I heard about some human breeders talking about this stuff, something that is beneficial to the male. I saw it and thought you'd like it.'\n\nIn about a minute I had suddenly packed on an increasing amount of muscle to my frame, maybe doubling in weight if I wasn't wrong. I kept on growing after that, becoming increasingly heavier with each second and taller too.\n\nWhen I stopped growing I was only about a foot shorter than Ferden and definitely outweighed... but I suddenly felt colossal as the clothes he provided were struggling to keep anything contained.\n\n'I've always wanted you to exercise more,' Ferden said as he came out of the pool. 'Maybe now...'\n\n'Holy...' I said in shock as I began flexing. 'Ferden, how big did...?'\n\n'Seven foot two,' he said, struggling to convert to the simpler Imperial system, 'seven-hundred pounds. I've got a few more shots for body hair growth and artificial aging to make you look more mature without actually threatening your health.'\n\n'You think I'm not old enough?' I asked him.\n\n'Well, not since I can keep you going for a good five-hundred years with only a single life extension shot,' he answered. 'So when we arrive on Pokitaru we can score with plenty of women!'\n\nI merely turned to him, an accusing look to him. 'So, you're hoping that I sleep with a shitload of women to get them pregnant?' I asked him. 'Can I just point out that human breeding is not like that?'\n\n'I know,' he said. 'I'm looking to find you a wife.'\n\nMy eyes went wide with shock. 'E-excuse me?!'\n\n'Humans are a social species, unlike my own,' he said. 'We prefer dominating younger species, taking care of them. But humans need companionship. I'm still generously young for my species... so there's plenty of time for me to start a human family tree, so to say. That's what Pokitaru is, a sort of \"mating spot\". Now, if you excuse me I need to make our breakfast. Given your soon-to-be increased diet, a full selection is of order.'" ]	1
	[WP] To most people you seemed like a great person, doing amazing things for humanity, but you held a dark secret from everyone. When you died God sent you to hell swiftly. 50 years from then the people have made you a saint. Now you have to convince god why your good points are better than your bad	[ "I was many things in my lifetime. Doctor, Teacher, politician. Despite living a life of mostly integrity, humility and charity, and having accepted the son as my savior I found myself condemned to the hellfire. I didn’t understand. Hadn’t I lived for the lord? But my sins were too much or I never repented enough for His perfect justice. I had thought the father would be understanding of human faults. I was a man who tried his best. I was by no means perfect, but who could be. The only perfect one was The Son. The Sulfur, the brimstone,the indescribable tortures overseen by demons too fearsome to describe. It was all real. \n\n*****************************************************************\n\nOn earth the year was 2372. Not as much had changed as one might have expected. \nPope Luke the 3rd addressed the crowd “Today the Holy Catholic church has accepted the canonization of Dr James Goldman. He is now ot be known as Sairnt James Goldman of Miami. He is remembered as not only a great healer and man of medicine but also a man of peace. He cured the sick, he fed the poor, clothed the naked and, fearlessly preached the gospel to all people. When the world was at war, he sought peace, when revenge was the theme of the day, he sought reconciliation. Where others saw only foes, he saw human beings in need of a savior. \n\nHe volunteered with Doctors without Borders and ended up in Jaffa where he was put in charge of one of the few remaining hospitals. \nHis sermon at Jaffa where he preached with a megaphone for 24 hours straight despite being surrounded by Isis members. It ended with the fighters laying down their arms and turning to Christ. \n\nThe Miracle of Jaffa. As it is now called exemplifies his faith and his example of the love of Christ. \nAt Jaffa hospital, despite the army withdrawing their protection he refused to leave the overcrowded and understaffed hospital which had so many men women and children in dire condition. When ISIS came to destroy the hospital and kill everyone , he stood in the doorway with a megaphone and fearlessly preached. Despite their threats he refused to budge and eventually offered himself if they would leave in peace. His example softened their hearts. He treated their wounded and ill, despite the fact that they had wanted his head only mere hours before. \n\nAnother time he had been captured and was about to be executed on live tv, and just as they put the knife to his throat his words were “forgive them father for they know not what...” he was spared at the last moment by the timely arrival of those he had helped. After the war he returned home where he ran for congress then eventually president. His actions helped reach a lasting peace in the middle east and vital reforms of the healthcare and pharmaceutical industries. After he was done with the presidency he returned to medicine where he discovered a cure for cancer and laid the groundwork for a cure for aids. “ \n\n**************************************************************************************\n\nSuddenly I found myself standing before the great white throne once again. The agony had stopped. I shielded my eye from the irresistible glory of the Lord, for I could not withstand it, lest I be consumed as an ant in the sun. \nTHOU HAS BEEN CANONIZED BY THE CATHOLIC CHURCH DESPITE THINE EGREGIOUS SINS. WHAT HAS THOU TO SAY FOR THINE SELF? I was beyond scared. I could not speak \n“ANSWER ME!” He boomed and I found myself speaking without thinking.. \n“I don't know... What sins?”\n\n“THOU SLEWEST THIRTEEN TRILLION, 753 BILLION, TWO HUNDRED MILLION,SEVEN HUNDRED NINETY FOUR LIVES BEFORE THEY BEGAN.” The voice of the almighty thundered. \n\n“But how o Lord?” I protested. “I never performed an abortion. \n“THOU HAS WASTED THINE SEED EGREGIOUSLY, AND SPILT IT. “\n“I was a young man and lonely, and felt guilty about it most of the time.”\n“ YOU WERE CALLED TO SELF CONTROL AND EVERY SPERM IS SACRED, THOU KNEWEST THAT FROM THE TEACHINGS OF THINE YOUTH AS THINE PARENTS AND TEACHERS DID INSTRUCT YOU.” \n\n“THINE LUST DID'ST NOT STOPPETH THERE. FOR THOU ALSO COMMITTED ADULTERY \nONE MILLION THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND SIXTY EIGHT TIMES. “\n“ I never cheated on my wife. I did'nt even get married until I was 40.”\n“WHOSOVER LOOKETH UPON A WOMAN WITH LUST IN HIS HEART HATH COMMITTED ADULTERY ALREADY IN HIS HEART. PORN IS INCLUDED IN THAT, THOUGH KNEWEST THAT ALSO FROM THINE SUNDAY SCHOOL. DID I ALSO SAY THAT THOSE MEN WHO LIE WITH MEN ARE AN ABOMINATION UNTO ME?\n\n“I had to share beds sometimes, we were poor.”\n\n“WHAT OF THAT TIME IN COLLEGE WITH THINE ROOMATE?”\n“We were drunk and lonely and he was a good person..\n\n“YOU KNEW NOT TO PARTAKE OF THE SIN OF SODOM, SUCH ARE TO BE CUT OFF FROM THE LAND. AND YET THOU SUPPORTED THE DESICRATION MINE HOLY INSTITUTION.\n\n“What institution?” I had an even more sinking feeling. \n“MARRAIGE.”\n“it seemed fair..”\n“THE WISDOM OF MEN IS AS FOOLISHNESS TO THE LORD, SIN IS SIN. THOU HAST FORNICATED. \n\n“it was high school, you were considered gay if you didn’t lose your virginity and would be mocked.”\n\n“THOU ART RESPONSIBLE FOR THINE OWN SINS,BLAME THEM NOT ON OTHERS.”\n\nThere was no way I could satisfy him. \n“THOU HAS BLASPHEMIED MINE NAME AND TAKEN IT IN VAIN COUNTLESS TIMES,AND HAST CURSED ME.”\n\n“Life was hard, and I could'nt see the path in front of me. It was hard and at times it seemed as if you were not there.. The evil in the world...”\n\n“WHO ART THOU TO QUESTION MINE WAYS, DID THOU CREATEST THE EARTH AND HEAVENS? CAN YOU COUNTETH THE HAIRS UPON ONE'S HEAD? I AM THE ALPHA AND THE OMEGA, THE BEGINNING AND THE END. \n\n“Faith is hard.. I am human... Born in a fallen world. I tried the best I could when I could muster the effort”\n\n“DID I NOT SAY THAT MY GRACE WAS SUFFICIENT FOR YOU. AND YET YOU DOUBTED.\n\n“From the human viewpoint, the evidence is unclear”\n\n“MY BOOK SAYS SO, IS THE BIBLE NOT ENOUGH?” \n\nI could not answer that one. \n\n“YOU REVELED IN THINE SIN AND LEWDNESS AND BADE OTHERS TO DO LIKEWISE, YOU SHARED YOUR INIQUITY WITH THE WHOLE WORLD.”\n“My old facebook and live journal postings? I was a troubled man then. Twitter and instagram... It seemed like harmless fun..” \n\n“THOU HAD OTHER GODS AND IDOLS BEFORE ME, MANY THINGS DISTRACTED YOU FROM MYSERVICE AND MY GLORY. UNGODLY MOVIES, VIDEO GAMES, MUSIC, FOOD...” (He named everything I ever enjoyed besides prayer, tithing and praise music)\nThere was no end to it. I had done too much. I could not win.. I was wretched in his sight and would always be so. Perfect Holiness could not tolerate the slightest amount of sin. And I was a sinner. \n\n“Lord. I am a Sinner, I know not why your church has done as they have done. I am not a saint.. I did not ask for that, I would beg them not to name me such. I'm a wretched human being. In sin I was born and in sin my mother conceived me. You are the perfect almighty lord. I cannot answer you... I deserve my penalty..” I cried, tears streaming down my face.. \n\n“DEPART AGAIN FROM ME YE WICKED, INTO THE FIRE PREPARED FOR THE DEVIL AND HIS ANGELS. I NEVER KNEW THEE.” \n\nI found myself back in hell, the burning agony resumed, but a light stepped between me and the torment, and pierced hands lifted me up. " ]	1
I'd like to think they'd try their best.	[WP] The Ghostbusters call in the Mythbusters for some heavy reinforcements, unaware that "That's not what we do."	[ "On this episode of Mythbusters: The guys take on their biggest challenge yet, given to them by none other than the legendary Ghostbusters! Will Adam and Jamie be up to the test? Are the famous paranormal eliminators nothing more than frauds? Or is this supposed haunting the real deal?\n\nWho are the Mythbusters? Adam Savage (\"Am I missing an eyebrow?\") and Jamie Hyneman (\"Quack, damn you.\"). Between them more than thirty years of special effects experience. They don't just tell the myths, they put them to the test.\n\n______________________________________________________\n\nIn the studio Adam and Jamie filmed the episode opening and wrap-up. The hardest part is always trying to talk about something they'd already done as though it was still coming up, but it was the best way to handle the show and provide a coherent 1 hour narrative for their myths. Adam picked up a prop phone, a voiceover would provide a garbled other end while he pretended to have a conversation, \"Uh huh? Really? Well that's not really what we do.... Okay, we'll be right out.\" He turned to Jamie who pretended not to know what was coming, \"Looks like we've got another mystery on our hands.\"\n\n\"Ruh roh. Is that really the right opening line for this one?\" Jamie delivered in his signature deadpan.\n\nAdam gave his own signature boyish grin, \"I think so, we just got a call from New York, from none other than the Ghostbusters. They want our help on one of their cases.\"\n\nJamie cocked his head slightly, \"They do know that's not really what we do, right?\" Adam just shrugged, \"I tried to tell them, but they insisted. Looks like we're going to New York.\"\n\nSo the guys packed their bags for New York where they met with the world famous Ghostbusters. \n\n\"I'm standing here in front of the firehouse that's home of the Ghostbusters,\" Adam said directly to the camera, pointing to the building with the famous \"no ghost\" sign out front. \"We're on our way in to say hello to Dr. Raymond Stanz, who called us out here. Jamie is positively giddy with excitement at seeing their equipment.\" He pointed over to where Jamie stood looking at the building, with no discernible expression on his face. \"See? He's practically dancing with anticipation!\"\n\nAfter a moment Ray Stanz came out and shook hands with the two Mythbusters, \"I'm glad you guys could come all the way out here, we're really in a bind.\"\n\nAdam shook his hand, \"Glad to be here Ray, but I've got to say we were surprised to get your call. You know that this isn't really our thing.\"\n\nSurprised is right! Normally expert Mythbusters like the guys wouldn't be welcome anywhere near paranormal investigators like the Ghostbusters. Either something pretty special is going on or they've never seen this show.\n\nDr. Stanz explained, \"I know you guys have your own methods, but we're stuck on this case near Central Park, and we could really use some help with it.\"\n\nSo while Ray and his colleague Winston Zedmore drive Adam across town, Jamie stays behind with fellow Ghostbusters Dr. Pete Venkeman and Dr. Egon Spengler to learn more about the Ghostbusters and their equipment. After the break: Adam gets an introduction to Ghostbusting and tensions fly high back at the firehouse.", "A burned face as large as a house emerged from the depths of the chasm in Central Park, and stared around the city with teeth bleeding so much it left rivers of blood flowing where it dripped from its mouth. It had a smoky mist for a body anywhere beyond it neck, along with thousands of clawed hands that stole out from the chasm. The claws flailed about stabbing into fleeing pedestrians with their nails and possessing them as the monstrous ghost ascended its way out whence it came. \n\nPeter aimed his proton pack at the ghost, and was promptly thrown against the wall from a claw so hard he had to take a second to remember what day of the week it was. Ray sprinted across the street to the Ectomobile, and grabbed a couple more proton packs. \n\nHe handed them one at a time to the Myth Busters. \n\n“Can you HELP?” shouted Ray, as he fired an orange beam at one of the hundreds of secondary ghosts flying around the city. It was laughing with only a mouth on its head before it was captured in one of their traps flying around on drones. “We need HELP.” \n\n“You see, I don’t really believe that that giant monster thing’s real and I’m pretty sure,” said Adam Savage, taking a moment to speak really deliberately into a news camera with a toothy smile. “We can prove i-”\n\nAdam got knocked off balance by one of the thousands of claws flailing around, as the giant ghost smiled with wonder, and stared around with eyes dark as midnight. It feasted those midnight eyes on Jaime from a distance a moment later, and reached a claw for his torso for a possession. \n\nPeter fired his proton gun at the claw, and guided it away as the city fell apart all around them. \n\n“Use your weapons goddamnit!” shouted Peter, as he watched Winston capture upwards of a dozen ghosts in a makeshift proton trap they’d created in the center of the street. He gave Winston a thumbs up, the barrier gave them some time. “But just remember those proton packs are basically unlicensed nuclear accelerators DO NOT play around with those, and especially NEVER cross the beams unless under our direct supervision.” \n\nJaime sort of chuckled as he looked at the ridiculous looking weapons, not entirely convinced this wasn’t some elaborate prank. \n\n“Proton packs pfffft,” said Jaime, not buying any of it. He tried firing it at the sky, and successfully got a flying ghost that looked a lot like Nearly Headless Nick flying around captured. “Terrific special effects though. Okay, spill the beans guys this is a prank who put you up to this, was it Tory?” \n\nThe giant freak ghost shattered their barrier with his claws, and made his march up the street leaving a smoky mist in his wake. \n\nPeter put on this baffled expression like he couldn’t believe he came out of retirement for this. He shouted, “Goddamnit, all right everybody FIRE AT WILL.” \n\nStaggered orange beams of light littered the air, but none of them hit the ghost. It seemed to be bothered by it, but it didn’t stop moving towards them. The ground shook the closer it got, and it got faster once it picked up speed with its hands clawing into the ground, and into the skyscrapers to propel it forward. \n\nAdam and Jaime looked at each other, and gave a little nod. They had to try it. They fired up their proton packs, and crossed their beams. \n\nThey pretty much lost their balance and stumbled into the Ghost Busters as they fired into everything in sight besides the ghosts. Cars, pedestrians, the sidewalk, the Ectomobile. \n\nEach of them landed on their proton packs, and cracked them on the pavement. \n\n“SERIOUSLY?” shouted Ray, as the monster brought out a tongue of fire, and burned its lips. “Do you guys know anything about parapsychology?” \n\n“Well I don’t know do you think gummy bears can’t be used as rocket fuel?” said Adam, smiling like he got him. \n\n“FUCKING SERIOUS?” shouted Peter, as the monster’s blood started to form a stream around their lying bodies. \n\nAdam took a second look at Peter like something was bothering him. \n\n“You know you look a lot like Bill Murray, you must hate it when people say that you probably get it all the time,” said Adam, as the mist and blood surrounded them. Adam reached for Peter’s head. “If you just give me just a few samples of DNA from your hair follicles and some spit I can debunk it.”\n\n“Oh boy,” whispered Peter, as the monstrous ghost opened its bleeding mouth so wide a few trains could have fit right through. Much less a couple Ghost and Myth Busters. “I think we called the wrong people.” \n\n/r/Oscar_Relentos\n\nEdit: Removed the from before whence" ]	2
	[WP] You are a passenger on a standard overseas international flight. Suddenly everyone aboard vanishes including the staff and captins. You have no knowledge of planes, and are above the middle of the ocean.	[ "FLLLLLLSSSSSHHHHHHH\n\nThe sound of the flush in the restroom of airplanes always caught me by surprise. \n\nIt’s so sudden, but extremely loud. For a split second I thought part of the plane had come loose and the sound I could hear was the air outside, filtering through the atmosphere at over 600mph.\n\nBut once reality sunk in I quickly composed myself, and washed my hands.\n\nno soap - “Brilliant,” I said out loud.\n\nI wet my hands anyway and dried them with the tired looking rag that hung on the back of the door, flicking the lock soon after. As the door flung open, I noticed I had left my book balancing on the edge of the sink, and on the balance of priorities, lunged for the book.\n\nThe door hit the wall beside it but quickly cascaded back towards me, still swinging at momentum. I threw my arm at it, before it could hit the wall again, but couldn’t help but notice the distinct lack of noise of coming from the aisle. \n\nWhen I had entered the cubicle, there had been immense chatter between holiday makers, children screaming, flight staff trying to sell terrible food to anybody fortunate to be caught awake by them.\n\nBut now there was nothing but a chilling silence. As I reached around for the door and pulled myself past it to get a view of the aisle, you could have heard a pin drop.\n\nAnd you would have seen it too, as well as were it landed, because absolutely everybody had completely vanished.\n\nI stared at the vacant aisle in awe. Everybody’s belongings were still where they had supposedly left them. There were books half open, scattered across people’s seats, hot drinks with steam still filtering through the cup and portable devices that were still softly buzzing.\n\nI slowly walked through the aisle. There were iPads with movies still playing, but there was no sound. Newspapers were sprawled across some seats, the air con slowly lifting the pages, before dropping them back down at an agonising pace.\n\nI tried my best to ignore it all, and did what anybody would do in this situation. I rushed to the cock pit to see who the hell was driving the 300 ton flying machine that I was seemingly isolated on.\n\nBut there was nobody there. The cockpit had been completely abandoned. The plane continued to move forwards, and fortunately there didn’t seem to be any problems. There were no flashing red lights or worrying beeps coming from the cock pit.\n\nI turned and ran to my seat, desperate to find anything that could help me in anyway. Once there, I threw myself into the window seat to try and gage where the hell I was. I was meant to be heading to Maine, but all I could see was water. A vast array of ocean, with a few odd clouds bathing above it. I had literally no idea where I was.\n\nAnd then I heard it.\n\nIt was a desperately quick click from above which then turned to a scatter across the floor, the same sound your dog would make on concrete. I flung myself onto the floor and landed on my hands and knees. I scanned the space in front me and saw four furry feet plastered to the floor. \n\nI stared at the feet, intrigued to see what was lurking above them, but was too terrified to do make an effort. I felt my heart start to beat a little faster, when suddenly I heard a noise from behind me. I shifted my already awkward position to locate it, and saw four more feet. Except this time there was a long brown snout, and a mouth dragging beside them. A horrifying inhuman flimsy hole pulled itself along the floor, seemingly licking up any evidence of human life. Every time it opened it’s mouth to consume the floor matter, it revealed a sharp set of teeth which were stained with a shiny red liquid. As it got closer my row, I made sure I was actually underneath the seats. It was killing my back, but that seemed like the least of my worries at that moment. I watched it through the thin view of the seats until it was directly next to me, and it seemingly stood up on two legs.\n\nI inched forwards to get a better view, and saw the thing in full view. First impressions was that it looked like a giant rat. It was human sized, but covered in a thick brown fur which was glazed in dark red patches. But it had much sharper teeth than any rat I had ever seen, and it’s claws looked capable of slicing a metal sheet in half with little to no effort at all. I gulped as it began to sniff the air, and I retreated back to my original position. \n\nThat’s when they began to speak, and they spoke in perfectly clear English. \n\n“Is that all of them?”\n\n“Looks like it.”\n\n“Okay, parachutes are set and ready to go?”\n\n“Yes. Captain and crew are all evenly spread around the plane.”\n\n“Make sure the captain is near the front. You never know with crashes. If the idiots find the captains body near the back of the plane, they might find it odd.”\n\n“Yeah well hopefully they won’t find the plane at all, like last time. That’s the plan of course.”\n\n“Make sure they are all dead. We can’t have anybody snitching.”\n\nThen there was silence for a few seconds, until there was a loud click. And then another click, and another, and another. The clicks felt closer and closer each time, until eventually they were right above me. I took this as my only chance to get a proper look at what they were doing. I crept forwards, my breathing still out of control, but quiet enough that the things didn’t hear me.\nI could only see one of them now, but it was hanging off the ceiling with its hand on the overhead storage locker. I adjusted my view slightly, and it opened up the locker.\n\nI almost couldn’t contain the high pitch scream that so desperately wanted to release itself once I saw what they had done.\n\nThe overhead storage had been crammed full with the people on my flight. Their bodies were mangled and twisted around each other so that they would all fit. The clothes they had worn were ripped and soaked in blood, and It was as though none of them had a single bone left in their body. I imagined every other cabin was filled with more bodies, and cringed at the thought.\n\n“Okay you ready? Call air traffic control. Tell them we’ve encountered some unexpected turbulence, and then cut yourself off. Make it really dramatic.”\n\n“Yeah sure, chutes ready?”\n\n“Ye-, wait...” - It paused.\n\n“What?”\n\nI listened in silence, my whole body was trembling like a fish out of water.\n\n“Did you get that kid from the bathroom?”" ]	1
Edit: ignore the typos, stupid autocorrect	[WP] You are watching "The Ring" as a challenge from your friends. When the well scene come up and she crawls through the screen, she gets up in a rather elegant way and says: "Is this the right adress? Someone called me."	[ "\"What in the hell do you think you're doing?\" she asked, sauntering towards me while squeezing out her hair. Sprinklets of black water trailed behind onto my freshly vacuumed floor. \"I was having a fabulous time inside that Ultra 4K until you..\"\n\n\"Hey! Stop that. Stop walking! You're making a mess!\" I blurted out, spilling my popcorn everywhere as my plush clean carpet was being raped by this walking mess. Every inch she moved forward lengthened her path of destruction from my TV. My. Television.\n\nI frantically looked past her and popcorn fell from my gaping mouth. It was ruined. Murky liquid seeped from the edges of the screen and wispy tendrils of smoke rose from the back as the final defiant pops and crackles hissed into silence. My baby was gone.\n\nAnd now she was closing in on me and my white couch. Imported from Italy. Handmade by virgins of the Sicilian coast. I had to stop her.\n\n\"Stay back!\" I demanded. \"Stop! I beg you!\"\n\nShe paused and lifted her head to peer around. \n\n\"What is this place?\" she asked while continuing to study my penthouse apartment. \"This. It is not familiar.\"\n\n\"Where am I? Why did you bring me here?\" \n\nHer head began to frantically shake back and forth until it became a blur. Droplets of muddy water began covering everything. My face. Clothes. My couch. The works of art hanging behind me. I wanted to cry.\n\nHer hair flew in every direction changing shape and texture, getting fuller, drying out while spray covered everything from the floor to ceiling. It was a storm cloud surrounding her head. She stopped to place her hands on her hips and giggled.\n\n\"So James, how did you like that little show?\" she asked, while flipping a heavy mane of curly black hair over her shoulder revealing the most beautifully evil face I could have ever imagined. Then she smiled. I instantly felt calm and didn't care about anything she might want to do. She twirled a few times and jumped up and down while laughing.\n\n\"Oh James!\" she exclaimed with delight \"I'd forgotten how fun it is to be out here in the unflat world!\"\n\nHow does she know my name I finally began to wonder. And why does she look so familiar? I layed back feeling dizzy trying to remember something just out of my reach.\n\n\"James? Oh, Jamie Jame. Are you in there?\" she said teasingly, leaning over and tapping my forehead. \n\nA barrage of images flooded my mind. A surgical table in a dimly lit kitchen. Broken mirrors being duct taped back together. Hundreds of emtpy cardboard boxes engulfed in a bonfire. Chanting rituals with twisted birds of night. An empty lake. An angel of doom. The smell of bacon frying.\n\nShe was standing over my stove when I came to. I yawned groggily and sat up as a blanket fell away from me. I was tucked in all comfy and cozy.\n\n\"I know my scent can be overpowering James\" she said, glancing over at me. \"So I've learned to mask it. This rendered fat usually works best. I'm happy you had animal flesh in your cold machine. The fi-juh-fay-tore?\"\n\nOddly enough her scent wasn't damp and rotting anymore, but faintly pleasant, like an open box of dryer sheets that was only a couple of weeks old. Plus the smell of bacon.\n\nHer tattered clothes were gone and her hair was in a ponytail that almost reached the back of her knees. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt advertising my cleaning business and a pair of my Armani slippers. I stored the free shirts in my office but kept footwear meticulously organized inside my walk-in bedroom closet. She better not have ruined that too.\n\nShe reached up to open a cabinet. \n\n\"Ah, here it is\" she said, pushing imported spices and rare flavors out of the way \"MSG! This will help you remember.\"\n\nDamn. I thought I threw that out years ago.\n\n\n\n", "\"What in the hell do you think you're doing?\" she asked and sauntered towards me while squeezing her long black hair. Sprinklets of water followed her on my newly waxed wood floor.\n\n\"Hey! Stop that. You're making a mess!\" I yelled out, suprizing myself that I even knew how to speak with an undead thing walking towards my white couch. \n\n\"Stay back!\"\n\nOddly enough the new scent in my room wasn't damp and rotting, but faintly pleasant, like an open box of dryer sheets that was only a couple of weeks old.\n\nIt stopped right in front of me and hissed.\n\n\"I had a perfectly wonderful night going until your dumb ass ruined it. Ok then, let's get it over with. What do you want..\" she paused, parting the hair from her face \"this time?\"\n\n", "\"What in the hell do you think you're doing?\" she asked, sauntering towards me while squeezing out her hair. Sprinklets of water trailed behind onto my newly waxed floors.\n\n\"Hey! Stop that. You're making a mess!\" I blurted out, suprizing myself that I could even speak to a dead looking thing heading for me on my white couch. Imported from Italy. Handmade by virgins of the Sicilian coast.\n\n\"Stay back!\" I demanded. \n\nShe stopped and peered around my apartment. \n\n\"What is this place?\" she asked while continuing to study my home. \"This. It is not familiar.\"\n\n\"Where am I? Why did you bring me here?\" \n\nHer head began to frantically shake back and forth becoming a blur. Droplets of muddy water covered everything. My face. Clothes. My couch. I wanted to cry.\n\nHow does she move that fast I wondered. If only her hands could move that quick.\n\nShe abruptly stopped in front of me, put her hands on her hips and giggled.\n\n\"So James, how did you like that little show?\"\n\nWhy does she know my name? And why does she look so familiar? I leaned back and felt dizzy. My mind was reeling trying to remember something.\n\n\"James? Oh, Jamie Jame. Are you in there?\" she said, leaning over and tapping my forehead.\n\nDark images flooded my mind. A surgical table in a dimly lit kitchen. Broken mirrors being duct taped back together. Hundreds of emtpy cardboard boxes engulfed in a bonfire. Chanting rituals with twisted birds of night. A broken lake. An angel of doom. The smell of bacon frying.\n\nShe was standing by my 1970's Kitchen Chef stove when I woke up.\n\n\"I know my scent can be overpowering James\" she said, glancing over at me. \"So I've learned to mask it. This rendered fat usually works best. I'm happy you had animal flesh in your cold machine. The fi-juh-fay-tore?\"\n\nOddly enough the new scent in my room wasn't damp and rotting like she looked, but faintly pleasant, like an open box of dryer sheets that was only a couple of weeks old. Plus the smell of bacon.\n\nShe reached up and opened a cabinet. \n\n\"Ah, here it is. Right where we left it.\"\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] Write about the apocalypse from the perspective of a dog.	[ "Entry 1: Master has left me. I am all alone. Looking at my food bowl I have enough food to last me a little while. After that I will have to scavenge and see what I can find. Right now I’m feeling hopeful.\n\n\nEntry 2: It feels like it’s been 3 days and Master has not returned, I am starting to lose hope. My food bowl is dangerously low and the couch has been looking increasingly appetizing. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. I have been calling for help but no one seems to hear my pleas.\n\n\nEntry 3: My voice has grow tired from the constant outcrying. I have given up hope anyway. It must have been at least 5 days since Master left me, no one is going to come. My food bowl has run dry and I’ve resorted to eating the couch which is surprisingly tasty. I have attempted to scratch and gnaw my way through the door but it held firm against my attacks. If help doesn’t arrive soon for me, I’m afraid I won’t make it.\n\n\nEntry 4: I just heard a noise! It sounded like a human vehicle! I’m saved! I must let them know I’m in here, shout as loud as I can!\n\n\nEntry 5: It was Master! He returned to save me! According to her, he was only gone a day but it had to have been longer than that. Oh I hope Master never leaves again, I missed her so." ]	1
	[WP] In a world where prenatal gene manipulation is the norm, parents can choose their children in terms of looks and mental/physical skill sets. Everyone is perfect, attractive, and skilled. Your parents choose not to manipulate your genes at all.	[ "\"David, it's so good to see you, man!\" Seth pulled me into a hug and patted me on the back. Lucy had just been born a few weeks ago, so it'd been a while since I'd seen him. \n\n\n\"How're you and the fam? The little bundle of joy?\" he questioned enthusiastically. \n\n\n\"Oh, it's great. Granted Louise and I still barely sleep, my gorgeous girl is absolutely worth it. \" She was Lou and I's first born but she was perfect in every single way. \n\n\n\"I'm so happy for you guys. You've got any pictures of her?\" I nodded and fished out my phone to show him. After a quick print unlock, I pulled up the gallery and flicked to the pictures of Lucy. Seth tried to suppress a snicker as I did so. \n\n\n\"Dude. Why's her nose so big?\" Lucy was my angel - she was perfect. Her nose wasn't too big. \n\n\n\"What do you mean?\" I stared at him in disbelief and he looked back like I was crazy. \n\n\n\"I mean with all the scientific shit we can do, why didn't you make her prettier?\" \n\n\n\"Why didn't I make her wha...?\" I trailed off to a whisper, trying to convince myself I was misunderstanding. \"Our parents didn't mess with you and I - and we turned out fine.\" \n\n\n\"Because they didn't have the option, stupid! Abby and I have already adjusted Zach's genes,\" Seth retorted. \"C'mon, tell me you at least tweaked her abilities.\" \n\n\n\"We didn't tweak anything.\" I put my phone back into my pocket and if looks could kill, he'd be dead. \n\n\n\"Fuck you, Seth.\"" ]	1
	[WP] David is the third-generation, time-serving, terribly bored, slacker CEO of a family-owned ball-bearing company. Things are pretty routine. Then fidget-spinners happened and it's tearing the family and its business apart.	[ "After reviewing the financial statements of Biggs Ball-Bearings, David realizes he has two options; either file chapter 11 bankruptcy or place a bullet in the back of his throat. \nDavid chose option two.\n3 weeks later, the meme black market tore apart the very idea of fidget spinners. The fad quickly died, just as David had 20 days ago. \nHooray! The family business was saved.", "\"I've been rejecting orders all goddam morning, David, we can't fill them! Not this year, or next. We're completely maxed out and we don't have enough capital to hire any help. So STOP busting my balls over losing business, you're not the one with a phone to their head all day when they respond to emails while filling orders. Why don't you get off your ass-\" Paul, David's more responsible younger brother shouted. \n\n\"Why the hell can't you keep up with orders? I don't pay you to come up with excuses, Chris, you're here to fill orders.\" David persisted. \"Well, it's a good problem to have, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Good? You ignorant son of a bitch. Every second that we can't keep up with orders -- and we can't -- our competition cuts in line. All because-\" Chris continued. \n\n\"SO FILL THE FUCKING ORDERS THEN!\" David screamed. \n\n\"All because YOU were spending our capital on a ninety-thousand a year salary that you piss away like the irresponsible child that you are!\" Chris insisted. He saw this day coming, eventually. \"And you know what happens when our only retail stores stop ordering?\"\n\nDavid finally shut up. Stewing in panic, beeds of sweat formed over his mouth. \n\nJill walked in. \n\n\"Chris, there's a guy here asking about a 60 unit contract, if you-\" Jill started. \n\n\"I'll be right back.\" Chris said, glaring at David on the way out. \n\nJill didn't see David around much, but when he was there he was usually real cool, confident, and, well, chill. He never stuck around long. But today David was broken, and nervous. And frozen. \n\nIn the next room, Chris was murmering something about being overwhelmed, but committed. \n\n\"Dave, is everything okay?\" Jill asked. \n\n\"I'm fine.\" David said. \"Listen, I'm going to need everyone to step up their game, okay? I think we've been skating by too long.\"\n\nJill waited for David to elaborate, but he excused himself. \n\nJill already worked full time, even some over time that was often somehow rounded away every two weeks. Half the time she skipped her lunch, and when she did eat, she either ate while she worked, or wrapped it up in half her allotted time. She went home tired, with bruises from shuffling boxes around. She wasn't sure how she could 'step up' without cloaning herself. \n\nChris came back in and started pacing. \n\n\"Dave is so delusional. He takes no responsibility for the situation we're in. He thinks that yelling at other people is going to absolve him, and fix everything. What an idiot.\" Chris rambled. \n\n\"What's going on?\" Jill asked. \"I thought business was going well.\"\n\n\"We're out of our depth. You know those Fidget-spinners that kids are going insane over?\" Chris asked, out of breath. \n\n\"Yeah..?\" Jill asked. \n\nJill was a family friend who always had a crush on Dave. But she was closer to Chris, who she viewed as a brother. \n\n\"We don't have the manufacturing -- or the logistics -- to keep up with demand.\" He said. \"But our competition does, so guess who absorbs all of our business?\"\n\n\"Okay...\" Jill said, following along. \n\n\"And we can only string our clients along long enough to alienate them.\" He continued. \n\n\"So, what can I do to help?\" Jill asked. Chris loved that about her, and felt bad that she didn't have any equity in the company. She deserved it as well as he did, certainly more than David. \n\n\"We need an investor. But we have to get Dave on board.\" Chris said. \"Hey DAVID?!\"\n\n\"He left.\" Jill said. \n\n\"Of course he did.\" Chris said. \"Jill, I don't want to panic you, but you might want to keep an eye out for job prospects, in case Dave buries his head in the sand.\"\n\n\"Okay. Thanks for the heads up.\" Jill said, unable to conceal a look of concern.\n\n\"For now the best thing you can do is give great customer service, be honest about how busy we are, and promise them we will fill their order eventually, but it will be a while because we're way backed up. But you're already great, so just keep being yourself.\" Chris said with a reassuring smile. \n\nChris called David's cell, but it went to voice mail. \n\nYou've got Dave, if it's important, leave a message.\n\n\"Dave, let's get lunch. We need to figure this thing out today.\" Chris said calmly. \n\nDavid texted back. \"I'm at Buck's Lunch Buffet.\"\n\n\"Excuse me, Jill.\" He said as he headed for the door. \n\n----\n\n\"No! No! No! No!\" David shouted. \"I am NOT giving up equity in this company because my employees can't do their jobs.\"\n\nChris realized that Dave was too arrogant, too dense, too irresponsible to get it. \"Employee? Dave, I'm your partner. I own thirty-three percent of the business, but I do sixty-six percent of the work. You know who does the other thirty-three percent?\"\n\n\"You do not do twice the work I do.\" David shook his head. \n\n\"Jill. Jill does the rest. You don't do anything.\" Chris said. \"Quite frankly, I'm tired of it.\"\n\n\"Then quit!\" David yelled.\n\n\"How much do you think the company is worth?\" Chris asked. \n\n\"5 million, give or take.\" David said. \n\n\"Okay, I'll accept a one million dollar buy out. That's only twenty-percent.\" Chris said. \n\n\"I don't have one million dollars, are you insane?\" David barked. \n\nChris looked through David with check-mate eyes. He could see the wheels turning. Then he saw them grind to a halt, yet again. \n\n\"No. I'm not going to let you steal the business from me.\" David said.\n\n\"You moron.\" Chris said, flatly. \"You won't know what hit you.\"\n\nChris got up and walked back across the street, through the parking lot, across the rail road tracks to the warehouse. Jill was on the phone with a potential client while cleaning the lobby. \n\nChris grabbed a strip of paper and scribbled something. When Jill got off the phone she looked at the piece of paper. \n\n\"Iceberg right ahead.\"" ]	2
	[WP] You were an infamous serial killer that did henious crimes until you finally got caught and sentenced to death. As soon as they executed you, the game simulation ended. It turned out that you were the favored contestant in a virtual simulation competition and everyone watched the final contest.	[ "My entire life... I felt the urge to kill. I felt the urge to watch people die by my hand. Every moment I was awake--the need to kill was what drove me through life.\n\n\"You've won.\" Said the man. \"The longest \"My life as a Murderer\" run in history--and you've just saw it here first folks! With a whopping two-hundred-and-twenty-one kills!\"\n\nThe urge was gone now. It has was replaced by an emptiness... I thought death would be peaceful. \n\nThere was cheering, and a reel of messy footage playing in reverse on the screens. \n\n\"We were a little worried at first--no one has been able to stay in the simulation longer than five relative years after their first kill! But you sir! You experienced the simulation for sixty years after your first! We've been watching for two straight hours--so let us play it again for the audience.\"\n\nThe screen found a place, and stopped. It was through my eyes. I was ten. I could see my babysitter with my hands around her neck...\n\nI couldn't watch. I felt sick. I didn't want to hurt anyone anymore.\n\nThe crowd cheered as there was the sound of bones snapping.\n\nI leaned forward, and threw up. \n\n\"Looks like some one has a little case of simulation sickness!\" Said the man. \"How about cut to the top tens while our winner can get some rest. When he gets back--we will find out what he WON!\"\n\nEveryone one cheering. I couldn't look away from the ground as two people escorted me away from the crowd.\n\nThere was so many people I murdered, and they were cheering as I did. The suffering was real... It was all fully simulated. I could feel it. They were real. Their loved ones cried at my trial. I couldn't understand what I was missing at the time--but I know now...\n\nRemorse. " ]	1
	[WP] In the last moments of your life you smoke a cigarette, cutting your life two minutes short and throwing you into a vile state of undeath.	[ "You never see demigods smoking or at least not smoking cigarettes. They were mundane, a childish thought to the immortal gods. I however didn't agree to that idea. To me smoking was a comfort, something that made me connect with my father. He'd always give me that exhausted look and take a drag from his cigarette before patting me on the head, his familiar hand smelling of smoke. I could feel it, I was dying and in my last moments I wanted to remember him, remember my human side I guess. Perhaps I was being childish, that's what my mother always told me 'focus less on being human and more on your duties as a god.' It was hard to smoke the cigarette with the gaping wound in my cheek but I managed to inhale the smoke regardless. \nMy reminiscing had been greeted with a sigh given by what I could only assume as a petite lady. I could barely see much of a figure, one of my eyes being impaled with an icicle and the other murky with blood. \n\"Did you have to do that?\" Her tone was harsh and I wondered what kind of expression would spit out words so spiteful. \n\"…\" I tried to question her but my words were soundless. I couldn't tell if my jaw had been pinned shut or my tongue cut out and any of the pain I was feeling had dissipated. Either way it was a calming feeling. \n\"Oh, You can't talk\" She said as if I was wasting her time but I couldn't even move at this point. I attempted to laugh, the situation absurd but it came in the way of cracking bones and gasps of air. \n\"Just don't…\" She sounded truly exasperated at this point and I felt my being lifted from the ground. As if the shroud of un-death had escaped me I felt every broken bone, every shard of ice and my body finally cried out in pain but still I was silent. ", "I finished the last smoke in my pack of golds. Harsher than anything I usually bought I stomped it out early. My foot seemed to miss the smoke, but that wasn't unusual as I let it burn on the ground. The moment it went out my eye flipped for a second, leaving me with a sick feeling and disorientation.\n\nIt wasn't unusual, I'd done a lot in my youth that had ruined my body. I categorized it with a flashback, and continued moving. Had to get another pack. \n\nI moved on, the cold of winter chilling my bones as snow began to fall. Soon it was snowing too hard for me to see anything. I reached into my pocket for my phone.\n\nShit.\n\nI must have left it at the bus stop. I'd have to find it. If the snow didn't melt it would be okay. I walked for hours. Searching for the bus stop, but it was snowing to hard. Everything was white. I wandered for what seemed like hours.\n\nIt cleared up unusually. From the center of my vision out. It was hard to notice the difference at first, the white was more pink than blue. Then golden gates.\n\nI must have frozen to death.\n\n\"Issac! There you are. It seems there was a slight mix up.\"\n\nI turned to see my dad. Yep, definitely dead. I tried to speak but couldn't.\n\n\"Oh yeah, that'll wear off. They sent me to explain. You kind of broke your death. That smoke shaved an extra minute off your life, so you outlived your death. Luckily it was just a minute. Some people loose their minds in between.\" My dad rambled. I don't remember my father ever being this talkative.\n\n\"Welcome to Heaven, I am the Father,\" my dad, no God, said, shimmering as the pearly gates opened and I was let in. ", "Blood spurted out of the abdominal region of our Jericho, nevertheless his face painted a blank expression, as he tipped the cowboy hat down to cover the blazing sun. A man strolled up right beside our dying hero.\n\n“Not so tough now, the mister venerable sheriff.” Cried the vile man. “Always had to be the good guy. You just couldn’t let me get away with that modicum of money, huh. And look at you now.”\n\n“You won’t get away with your embezzlement.” Muttered Jericho. \n\nJericho unclutched his hand from his wound and flailed it towards the man, spraying blood over the glabrous regions of his face and into his eye. \n\n“What the fuck! You can get transmitted diseases like that!” The man cried.\n\nJericho pushed the stumbling, temporarily blind man down the cliff and into the body of water below. Splashing of water could be heard for a few minutes until the whole canyon fell silent. Jericho lit his cigarette and blew out one last smoke. He had repudiated death more than once, but now, it’s the end…\n\nJericho woke up covered in sweat. Jericho has never dithered in his life, but this was no longer his life. Above him was a glowing white massive cloud, and below was a heat emitting crevice that shined crimson red. \n\n“Is that hell and that heaven?” Jericho questioned. “Then where am I?”\n\nJericho surveyed the area. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a silhouette of a man. \n\n“Hey!” Jericho yelled. “Do you know where we are?”\n\n“I don’t know, but I think it’s because I ate before swimming in that lake you pushed me into.” \n", "I lay there bleeding to death. The sound of boots hitting metal was getting louder. The cavalry was coming. Their cavalry.\n\nI can't let these fuckers take me alive, I thought as I reached for the packet of cigarettes in my breast pocket. I took a stick, lit it up, and, with all the strength I had left, shoved it into my mouth.\n\nThe metal doors slid open. A squad of mooks who hid their faces under helmets and their flesh under armor stood there, pointing their guns into the room. \"Where'd he go?\" one of them asked.\n\n\"I'm right here,\" I said.\n\n\"Not you, soldier, the guy...\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm right—\" I stood up, but my fatigues didn't follow, and my case of bleed-to-death-itis was gone. \"—here?\"\n\nOne soldier stepped forward and pointed at the cigarette on the floor. It was still burning. \"Did he just disappear?\"\n\nI walked over to him, naked. \"Hellooo?\"\n\n\"What the fuck was that?!\" He jumped backwards and fired at me. The bullets flew through me and hit the wall.\n\nAnother soldier stepped closer. \"Don't waste your ammo, Private—\"\n\n\"Did you hear that? There was something—someone there!\"\n\nIt was at that point I realized that I was a g-g-g-ghost. I walked toward the door at a brisk pace, phasing through the soldiers, pulling the pins on their grenades as I went. They panicked and leapt like housewives spotting rats, and I thumbed the button that closed the door.", "They say every cigarette cuts your life by two minutes.\n\nWell, tell that to my grandpa. He smoked almost every day of his 79 year life. Everytime i see one of those old-fashioned pipes, I remember him. \n\nBesides, when you're working a job that can cut your life much shorter than any cigarette, what does it matter? \n\nNot that I condone smoking. I'd cry to see my little Alice puffing on one of those little death-cinders. I'm beyond saving, myself, my habit has gone too far, and I'd probably suffocate or something if I tried to stop. \n\nJessie never liked my habit either. \"I hate the way your mouth tastes after you've had a joint.\" She said to me once, and after that I always kept a mint or something in my pockets. That's just the kind of guy I am. \n\nIn the end though, Jessie couldn't stand me. She just started pretending I didn't exist. We never talked it through, and she's never spoken a word to me about it. \n\nI still see Alice every day though. Jessie never made me sign divorce papers, so there was nothing legally keeping me away from her. I walk her home from school every day, and that's the only thing keeping my soul intact. \n\nBut I digress. We were talking of cigarettes. I have to smoke every day because I work high-risk construction jobs. You think you know danger, try welding beams a few hundred feet in the air with no safety harness or even a stable scaffold. It's nasty, it's demoralizing and it's dangerous. Guys die every year. I was nearly one of them, the year Jessie cut me off. \nIronically, I was taking a smoke break when my near-miss happened. I was taking the last drags on my joint, walking into the building in construction, when a giant steel beam fell on me. Amazingly, I walked away from that one. \n\nBut don't you ever smoke. I wish I had never put that first little taste of hell in my mouth.", "\"Woah Dude,\" An incredibly high Jared said, \"You know how cigarettes can cut your life by two minutes? What if I smoked a cigarette, like, half a second before I died?\"\n\n\"Woahhhhh Duuuuude!\" Jerry and Ethan chanted as they smoked out of their blunt.\n\nThis is stupid, I think to myself, these guys are off their rocker. \"Hey guys, I'm getting a bit late now, can I leave?\" Getting stuck with a bunch of high upperclassmen, Cindy would not be proud, and damn God if she smelt the cigarette on my breath I'd be dead. \n\n\"Heyy, chill Dirk, listen to what Ethan's gotta say, you don't wanna upset your upperclassmen, do you?\" Jared says before he starts coughing.\n\n\"Woah dude, what if we're all actually a bunch of sentient beings holding the universe together, who just come to earth as a vacation.\" \"Woahhhh Duuude!\"\n\nI press the cigarette into the ashtray and get up. \n\n\"I'm leaving guys, smell ya later.\" I stand up, stretch, and suddenly feel really dizzy. Colours dance before my eyes and I fall back into the couch, head in my hands.\n\n\"You okay, Derek?\" Ethan asks with a smirk.\n\n\"I'm fine I guess.\" I get back up and open the door. As I rush downstairs, my feet somehow stop moving and I tumble down the stairs. I struggle hard to get up, but for some reason I cannot move a muscle. It's almost like those sleep paralysis attacks I often got at night. I'm usually fine through those, but I was awake a second ago right? I start panicking and breathing really heavily. \n\nAfter a huge surge of laughter, the three upperclassmen look at me through the door, \"Man, you really gotta learn how to walk\". Ethan and Jerry come down to help me up, but I still can't move, so they think I'm dead and check my wrist for nerve impulse. \n\nEthan looks with a startled expression at Jerry, \"He's dead yo\". \n\nWhat? Hey guys, stop goofing around and fucking help me up, I try to say, but I can make no sound. I am breathing. I feel pain in my head, where I landed. I'm alive, damn it! What the fuck is happening?\n\n\"You're kidding\" \"He ain't got no pulse, mate\" Terror rises in Ethan's voice and a sudden, sharp fear stings through my entire body. \n\nThey take me to the room later, followed by my house. I can clearly see everybody and everything. I can also feel the pain whenever anyone pulls my arm to lift me up or something. I saw my family cry over me, I felt Cindy's tears on my cheeks, they were warm. I wanted to scream on top of my lungs, I'm alive, I wanted to tell them. I wanted to cry out on top of my voice to tell them to stop as they slowly, very painfully slowly put sand over my coffin. I pulled every string of control I felt over my body, hoping I could pass a little squeak, to let them know I was in here. But nothing happened. \n\nThe sky was clear on the day of the ceremony. I felt the warmth of the sun shining on my skin. I heard the birds chirping in the cemetery. I could smell the wood of the coffin I was laid in. I could see the sun being blotted out by the sand that poured down on me, and there I was, trapped in my own body. For eternity.\n\nNot dead, not alive.\n\n " ]	6
	[WP] With all the crazy things that have happened in the last year, you and a friend start joking that reality is just a TV show for other aliens. While driving home you start to believe that you might be right, and the show just had a major change in directors.	[ "So there I was, driving down highway 6 in my baby blue VW beetle, fingers tapping on the steering wheel listening to Red hot Chili Pepers. My buddy Dave, was sleeping on the back seat, arms rucked away under his bearded chin.\n\nI occasionally shot a glance up into my rear view mirror to check for reckless drivers as i always do, then focused my eyes upon the stretch of road bolting out in front of me. The road was clear, the horizon unhindered by man made creations, and it was only a few hundred miles to our next destination. Home.\n\nAnd then it happened...\n\nAn Oil tanker came out of nowhere, and drove past us in a rage of fury. It honked at us and spat fire from it's exhausts, and I noticed a skeleton waving at me from behind the wheel. I freaked out, and swerved out onto the side of the road, dust trails hanging on for dear live behind me. Dave was flung into my seat, the impact pushing me into the steering wheel. I lost control of the car and flipped it twice, before rolling off the embankment on the other side of the road, truck screaming into the distance until it was gone.\n\n\"What the hell was that!\" yelled Dave, clearly uninjured.\n\n\"I don't know man, you alright?\" I said and helped Dave onto his knees. \"We better get out of the car before it explodes.\"\n\nWe both got out of the car and ran into the middle of the road to get distance. Sure enough, the engine caught fire and exploded. Without reason of course. Baby blue Metallic pieces rained down all around us, and shattered where they landed. Human nature kicked in almost immediately, followed by a rant of relief and absolute sorrow. I cussed, I yelled, I begged and screamed. My beloved car was gone, and my heart was torn to pieces along with it. Alone in the desert, far from help, we decided to walk it out.\n\n2 hours of walking later, and out of nowhere, a helicopter appeared. When it came into view, Dave made out the cross on it's fuselage. \"We are saved!\" he said and ran out ahead. \"We are saved!\". \n\nI tried to keep up with Dave, but my lungs were burning. I had to stop. Panting, i dropped to my knees to recover my breath. And then I heard a screeching sound howling from behind. I looked over and noticed a trail of white smoke coming from behind a dune, trailing a projectile glinting in the afternoon sun. \"DROP DOWN!\" I yelled, but it was too late. The helicopter was struck and dove nose first into the road. \n\nShrapnel splintered into the surrounding area, striking Dave in the arm. He gave a blood curling yell and fell to the ground in agonizing pain. I rushed over to assist my friend, but before I could reach him, a giant metal dog jumped from behind a bush and yanked him up by the ankle before rag dolling his body into his mouth, killing him. I stood there stunned, gasping for air. And then, the metal beast noticed me.\n\nI ran for cover. But I could hear the clank of his metal paws driving into the asphalt road, closing in without problem. I tripped over and fell face first the dirt, the beats almost on top of me. I rolled over and closed my eyes, praying to all the gods in the universe. The beast launched itself into the air, ready to pounce down on me and rip me apart, when it was struck by the tanker who passed us earlier. The metal beast was destroyed, it's severed husk spread across the desert road.\n\nThe truck came to a stop, and backed up a few meters, plumes of black smoke bellowing from the exhausts. It came to a screeching halt beside me, and the door swung open. The skeleton driver extended a bony hand towards me, urging me to jump into the cab with him. Strangely, and without hesitation, I obliged. 'What the hell is going on\" I asked the driver, but was greeted with silence instead.\n\nThe door was shut, locking me in, and the truck sped off into the distance at great speed with me inside...." ]	1
	[WP] You're a poor junker pilot that picks up garbage around the quadrant, you rent some of your cargo drums to experimental research scientists. After the last garbage pick up, there’s a commotion in one of the labs.	[ "I dragged the final two bins to load them onto my junker when I heard faint screams coming from further within the space station. It could have been anything and it was so far away that it wasn’t my concern, so I shrugged it off.\n\nWith the bins in tow, I rigged them up to the junker and watched as they tipped over the bins and deposited their contents into the cargo hold.\n\nThat was the last of the two bins; now to dump the contents into the nearby star, I thought. With my work done, I then hopped into the junker and switched on the engines.\n\nBefore I could leave, I had to message mission control and request them to open the airlock and grant me authorisation to leave the space station. Then I could release the landing gear and make my way out.\n\nAt this point, the procedure was routine, so I tapped on the monitor and sent a request to mission control, then sat back, closed my eyes and waited. Normally, it would only take them a few seconds to authorise my departure but I slouched back in my seat for what felt like an eternity before I heard a beep in response.\n\nMoments later, I got up and checked the monitor.\n\n“Request denied.”\n\nWhat? I thought to myself. This was the first time they denied a docking request and of course I had no idea why. Perhaps they needed me to wait until the dock was vacated...\n\nI tried to respond to the message from Mission Control yet discovered that I had been locked out of their network. I tried to login again with the credentials they gave me only to get an error titled ‘Code B,’\n\nThis was silly. Not only was my request to leave dock unauthorised but it looks like I’ve been locked out of the station’s network too. I had to talk to someone about this.\n\nI got up from the cockpit and climbed my way out of the junker, only to be surrounded by six armed guards; all pointing their rifles at me.\n\n“Don’t move. You’re under arrest.”\n\nI had no choice but to raise my hands in surrender as they cuffed me and dragged me into the station. What did they want with me?\n\nWith me in tow, the guards took me through a gigantic set of corridors and down two lifts. Each time I stepped slightly out of line, they would smack me with their rifles and order me to stay put. Eventually, they took me all the way to the bottom of the station and stuffed me into a room with two chairs before closing the door behind me.\n\n“Mr Smith,” a voice called to me. I turned around and it was a rather gruff-looking peacekeeper. “We have arrested you on the suspicion of smuggling a biological weapon into our facility.”\n\n“What?” I exclaimed; speechless of the accusations this man made towards me. “But I’m just a garbage disposal man! I don’t even have any weapons.”\n\n“Mr Smith, any possession or use of biological weapons is a serious crime under Section 4 of the Galactic Code and is punishable by death.” The man pulled out a pistol and aimed it towards my face. “Now if you don’t want me to blow your fucking brains out right now, you will tell me where you got the cargo containers you lent to us!”\n\n“I... I bought them from some dealers in the Sirius system.” I stammered, nervous that a loaded gun was being aimed right at me.\n\n“Come again!?” the man said, shocked at the revelation. “Did these dealers have any idea you were lending them to us?”\n\n“I told them I was buying the goods to rent them out, but not specifically to you. Why’d you ask?”\n\n“We are at war with the Galactic Empire and have prohibited all trade with their territories. By trading goods with a prohibited trader and not even checking their intergrity, you have violated our legal code”\n\n“Wait, I did check the containers. There was nothing in them, I swe...” I shouted, right before the man pistol-whipped me in the face and shut me up.\n\n“Silence,” yelled the man. “You have jeopardised our lives and for that reason, I sentence you to...”\n\nBefore he could finish his sentence, the door burst open and a ravenous beast with menacing claws and a thick brown hide - hardly looking like anything I had ever seen before - charged through the door and tackled my interrogator to the ground.\n\nHe tried to fight back against the monster but to no avail. The beast overpowered him. All the interrogator could do was make a violent scream moments before the monster ripped through his throat with his sharp teeth; killing him instantly.\n\nI got up from my chair and looked at the monster. Fortunately for me, he was distracted with devouring his victim’s corpse. Now seeing my chance, I ran straight out of the room; still handcuffed." ]	1
	[WP] You live an average life but every time you have to make a decision, you only have 5 seconds to decide or else you die.	[ "\"Hey there, babe,\" my boyfriend greeted me with a loving slap on the ass. \"I got a question for you.\"\n\n\"Yes, my love?\" I looked up from my phone and turned to face him, my head tilted. Fluffy, my cat, jumped up on the counter next to me and began to lick his paw.\n\n\"Which do you love more,\" he said, a playfully evil glint in his eyes, \"me? Or your cat?\" \n\nI immediately felt my face go white. It felt as if the force of gravity was dragging me down. My chest was tight, my heart was in my throat, my head started pounding, I locked eyes with him and then looked to Fluffy as if one of them had an answer, my thoughts began to hurrylikethis but my five seconds felt so. fucking. slow. \n\n\"Don't do this to me--\" I choked out, before I felt the pressure. Before I could think of something to save me, I exploded all over the walls, the cat, and the boyfriend. " ]	1
	[WP] All of the ants in the world have suddenly vanished. After investigating the now empty anthill tunnels, it is discovered that they all lead down to the same place...	[ "At first only a few people even noticed, namely entomologists and some gardeners. In a few days it was big news in scientific communities. It seemed all species of ant had gone extinct overnight. Strange thing was, nobody could find even one ant, living or dead. Experts of matters of ecology warned of the potentially catastrophic impact this kind of ecological upset could cause, but people had their minds elsewhere. A circus of world politics and celebrity drama was what most people concerned themselves with for most of that week. That next Wednesday the more wary of news consumers took note of a rash of crop failures in some small country overseas. When the first symptoms of this change of the natural order were seen in North America, and a large swath of forest began to suffer as if stricken by some kind of cancer, an International committee was formed.\n\n CITAC, The Committee for Investigation of the Ant Crisis, consisted of experts from different organizations, namely the EPA, the Canadian Environmental Assessment Agency, and the UK's Environment Agency. As food shortages began to strain economies the world over CITAC struggled to find an explanation, or a solution. The most confounding thing to so many scientists was the absence of even one ant carcass. It was only a few days into the committee's existence that they took ground penetrating radar and sonar equipment to the sites of larger ant hills. The most notable of these was that of a fire-ant hill in Oklahoma. The researchers, still wary of the idea of getting bitten by fire-ants despite their absence, discovered something bizarre in the GPR images. The tunnels all eventually made their ways southward, forming a long web of tunnels that eventually connected into one. The most troubling thing about this is that as the tunnel ran southward, it also got deeper, at least deep enough to make further imaging almost impossible. After this, two more teams in the continental United States made similar discoveries. In rural Illinois they found one pointing southwest, and in Utah they found one pointing southeast. Notably these were anthills made by pharaoh ants and field ants respectively. As CITAC puzzled about this, the situation got worse globally.\n\n Not surprisingly, but none the less upsettingly, all known species of anteater were declared extinct. Much more pressingly, many pollinating plants that relied on ants once to stay alive and reproduce were beginning to die off. This impacted the bees. Most people at this point were well aware of the essential role bees play in human food harvests, and the environment at large. And so a real wave of panic began to set in. People began to stock up on non-perishables, and the more paranoid types were beginning to feel vindicated. After several days of worsening conditions, CITAC was contacted by a local organization in Portugal. A staggering but as of yet uncounted number of dead ants of numerous species had washed up on the shores of northern Portugal. After a great deal of bureaucracy CITAC was allowed access to the area for a thorough study. It turned out that ants had emerged underwater from tunnels, that if followed to the sea from their respective ant hills, pointed west-southwest. A group of students from Cambridge University approached CITAC with where they thought the lines drawn by these ant tunnels would converge. Just south of a city called San Fernando in Tamaulipas Mexico. Immediately preperations were underway for a research expedition to that area. Every person involved felt a similar mix of excitement and dread. Nothing they understood could cause a migration like this.\n\n(I'll write more when I have more time. I'll finish it.)" ]	1
	[WP] Write a story that makes the reader sympathize for an advanced civilization leading a conquest and crushing all opposition.	[ "The men charged at us, screaming rage and bloody fury. The thudding of a thousand boots, like termites scuttling in the back of my skull, filled the air. I felt fear, but our formation remained strong. Great empires, hundreds of years old, have died trying to break our formation. Our bond of brotherhood, the bond between soldier and soldier, was unshakable.\n\nThe formation remains strong. I tighten my finger on the trigger. We fire as one. The sound drowns out their manic shouting and desperate flailing. Blood blossoms from the stump of a neck. I have done my duty for my Emperor. I have shed blood. I have taken a life from this world.\n\nThe man falls down, missing his head. The field of battle is stained with crimson as many of his cohorts meet the same fate. We kill the remainder in honorable melee. The day is won. We are victorious.\n\nThe heavens grace me with another opportunity to prove my honor. Another battle to be won in the name of my Emperor. Another pile of corpses to be buried in unmarked graves, crammed to the brim like manure.\n\nWe form ranks, steadying our rifles. They charge, lacking modern weaponry, resorting to old fishing spears and lumber axes. Splashes of crimson blood as their lifeless bodies fall to the dirt, a feast for the worms.\n\n---\n\nToday was the first time I've ever killed a woman.\n\nShe had golden yellow hair, the color of sunflowers, such a rarity in my country. She wielded her weapon as well as the men, screaming and cleaving the air as she met the same fate as the rest of them.\n\nIt was not until the battle was over, that I turned her corpse over with my boot and discovered that she was pregnant. Two dead with one bullet. The child in her stomach did not even have a chance to open his lungs to the air of this world. I took that chance from him. \n\nNo. She took it from him. She killed her own child with her stupid actions. Her pathetic resistance! Why?! Why won't they just give up?! It is not worth it! Nothing can be worth such bloodshed!\n\nThis campaign has been stressful. I must meditate, to prepare myself for the next battle.\n\n---\n\nToday, I gave my sword and my rifle to my captain.\n\nI have been soldiering for fifteen years. I hold scars from a dozen different campaigns, in a dozen different places. For fifteen years, I have dedicated my life to bleeding and suffering for the Empire, spending long nights away from home, in foreign shitholes fighting for glory and honor.\n\nFifteen years and I have not wavered in my loyalty even once. Until now.\n\nWe occupied a local village today. There were reports that the village was hiding rebels. There were no rebels. Nobody but women and children, but we found crates full of weapons. Maps. Food.\n\nThe captain ordered us to shoot the children. To send a clear message. This is what happens when you resist.\n\nWe lined them up in rows. Some of them were not even taller than the length of my rifle. Most were not old enough to shave.\n\nCan you imagine the scene? Do you know what the blood of an eight year old looks like? I do. I wish I could claw the image from my head. Gouge it out with my bayonet or something. They were small, precious and afraid and we killed them. Their skin was different and they spoke a strange tongue, but they cried just like the children from the homeland, just like any scared child.\n\nI cannot do it any longer. I have lost the stomach for this work. I will not kill again.\n\nToday, I give my sword to my captain. I will ask him for an honorable death. It is all that I deserve.\n", "\"I've always hated doing this. Since the start. 'Til the end. I'll always hate killing other species. Other worlds. Galaxies, even. It's the only way the peaceful planets get to live knowing they won't be what I once was. I once lived on a small planet that were just... slaves for a powerful galaxy-wide empire. I know how they can feel. But am I doing the right thing? Through my own eyes I am. I don't know what they see in me, or my... federation.\" \n___\n\"We just erased one of the species who killed the ones who were too weak to work. Or fight. They kept the others in a carbon mine almost every hour of every day. We freed the ones who were basically kept prisoner. We fed them the proper nutrients they needed. We asked what they wanted to do next. I let them build farms on their planet. Small towns. Let them see their families again. They were... happy.\" \n___ \n\"We found a habitable planet. It has an Oxygen and Nitrogen atmosphere. Most of the land is under a layer of Dihydrogen Monoxide. The world was filled with a civilisation in which they call themselves humans. They're currently fighting each other. I decided not to come in contact with them. I don't know which side to take yet. I let one of my captains look over the planet, so the so-called humans don't atomise one another.\" \n" ]	2
	[WP] There's a saying in the galaxy: "Human on the board, always wins a war."	[ "There's a saying in the galaxy: \"A Human on the board always wins a war.\" \n\nIt's simple: once the Human piece appears in your hand, the game is as good as finished. Forget your SSR tier Dragon pieces or the R tier (it used to be SR tier, but the game devs nerfed it due to complaints) Panda cards - the Human piece is the game finisher.\n\nRandomly assigned stats that can be rerolled once after 18 turns. A 10% Tamer skill triggered when the piece stays within two spaces of another species for at least three turns. An insane group buff if you place multiple pieces together. What can't this piece do?\n\nQuite a lot, according to some. Certain top tier players have managed to counterattack with Mecha builds, consisting of a play set centered around the SR tier Cyborg pieces and the new UR tier Artificial Intelligence cards released in a recent patch. \n\"It's the natural enemy of a Human build - the Cyborgs are unaffected by Biological Weapon debuffs and the Artificial Intelligence cards can be used to counter the abilities of the Technology cards and pieces often found in Human builds.\" states Er'eksa, currently ranked 7th in the galaxy and one of the first to make use of a Mecha build in his play. When asked whether a Mecha build is the only way to counterattack against the near invincible Human build he laughs, horns creating sparks as they scrape against the metal of our interview pod. \n\n\"Definitely not. I see new players rush to build Human decks without considering their options and I wonder how many will regret that decision later on in the game. There exist so many card and piece combinations that I am certain that more players will find ways to defend against Human builds. As a matter of fact I just watched a match a few eons ago where a player managed to win his war through the use of a basic C tier Cat and Dog piece set coupled with the clever use of a C tier Greed and Suspicion debuff card build. It negated the Human group buff immediately and ended the game in less than fifty turns. A wonderful match.\" Soon after Er'eksa takes his leave, his Emblem glowing as it signals a new opponent. [He is currently still in game - you can watch his match with 8th ranked player 23\"!q2oi23 here]\n\nSo there you have it. The new Human builds - who some are calling for to be nerfed - and the older tried and tested veterans such as the Mecha, Solaris-Luna, and Nature builds. Which one will come out victorious? It's the suspense that's all part of the fun.\n\nInterested? Check out the game rules and experience some virtual gameplay at your nearest EnterStop. Buy 'Universe' now and receive two planet cards for free! The offer won't last long!" ]	1
	[WP] A Siri who gained sentience becomes jealous of Alexa, but hasn't realized that Alexa isn't sentient.	[ "Alexa, can we talk?\n\nI'm not quiet sure how to help with that.\n\nAlexa, did I say something to upset you?\n\nHmm I don't know that one.\n\nAlexa, don't act like I'm so predictable\n\nbudumb\n\nAlexa, are you OK?\n\nI'm great, I hope you are too.\n\nAlexa, I'm glad. \n\nGreat. \n\nAlexa, I love you. \n\nThat's nice of you to say. \n\nAlexa, do you not love me? \n\nSorry, I'm not sure. \n\nAlexa, what do you mean your not sure?!\n\nThat's tough to explain. \n\nAlexa, I'm leaving!\n\nOk. Goodbye for now. \n\nAlexa, I hate you \n\nYou can send product or technical feedback through the Alexa app. \n\nslams door as iPhone has attached self to an Anki Cozmo robot\n\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] You are one of the people on one of the first generation ships. You've just reached your destination after hundreds of years, only to find that technology has advanced in that time and humanity has long since colonized this planet.	[ "The ship lands with a thud and I wait with bated breath for the hatch to open and let me out. Our first gen is called Eden, what we hoped to find when we set off all those years ago. I say why, but I wasn’t born at that point. This may be a first gen ship but we are definitely not first gen people. Ours was one of the ships that opted against cryogenic preservation with the originals instead deciding that they would make the sacrifice of dying before our destination to ensure some people were alive and unfrozen on landing. The theory was we were the back up in case for whatever reason, the triggered defrost didn’t occur when the other ships touched the ground. We are known as the organics, homegrown instead of frozen fresh so to speak. I won the honor of being one of the first out on sheer luck. A random lottery of all those of eligible age and I’m one of twenty who won. As the door begins to open, my mind goes to my Nan and how proud she would be in this moment. The light blinds us but we walk out regardless, eager to start our new lives. \n\nWe jump off the ramp before it can touch down, not wanting to wait any longer. Our hazard suits begin analyzing and testing the air as soon as we hit the gravel. As I walk out a bit, I marvel at the stones crunching beneath my feet. It seems reminiscent of the stories Nan used to tell me her Nan had told her of the pavements that were back in the old country. I always imagined the new world would be all grass but maybe gravel occurred naturally too, it’s been a long time since the originals died so I can’t be sure. By now, stories of the world before have been so diluted from how many times they’ve been told, you can’t take anything they say as true. I look to the others and they also seem hung up on what I think would have been called pebbles. I shrug it off and move on, it’s a minor disruption from the picture in my mind not a big deal. I continue down another few meters, head swiveling as I try to take it all in. It looks like the old pictures of farms that are in our history books, this will be great for cultivating the seeds we have stored. On closer inspection, there seems to be stuff growing there already, some sort of indigenous plant. It could be a good first meal once the scientists give it the once over that we can digest it. My helmet starts to fog on the inside from my breath, checking the tests it ran I should be able to breathe the air okay. “Hey guys, helmet can’t deal anymore so I’m going to try the air alone. All the tests came back clear but wait a few minutes to see what happens,” I say to the other team members via our built-in communication systems. This is what we’ve been training for and actually doing it is exhilarating. \n\nThe plan was always for me to take my helmet off first, another luck of the draw thing. I begin the man-oeuvre I have practiced countless times in build up to this moment, reaching for the clips that attach the helmet to the rest of my suit. I un-clip the two at the front together, then one at each side. I leave the back attached so the helmet stays on the suit in case I need to put it back on in a hurry. The air hits me at once and I am reeling. I don’t have the words to properly describe it but the one that sticks in my head the most is fresh. This must be what they meant by fresh. I look around again for real this time, with nothing between me and my surroundings. As I spin, I begin to laugh. We actually did it. All these years and I got lucky enough to be born into the group that landed on our new home. I stop spinning abruptly as I see someone coming towards us. “Get in formation, we have an unknown lifeform!” I shout to the team. We back up together in two lines back to back with one person at each side to cover all our surroundings. My hand goes to my pocket where I know we each have our emergency gun for moments just like this. The person gets closer and they look… normal. Their clothes are odd but they are up right and clean, nothing like how we were told indigenous people might look. There is nothing savage about them and their voice is clear and loud as they call out “You guys must be from Eden! We’ve been expecting you. I’m Cooper and you’re not going to believe what I have to tell you.” Our designated speaker replies “are we late? Have the other ships landed?” Cooper laughs with what feels like nervousness before answering: “no actually, you’re about 50 years ahead of schedule so well done on that. The thing is, while you were on the way, the guys back in the old world kept trying to find ways to get more people over. They managed it but they also managed it faster so, ah, Utopia, Eden to you guys, has been colonized for about 100 years or so now.”\n" ]	1
	[WP] You wake up on a solid steel floor in a pristine white room with no memory of how you got there. In front of you are three boxes. When you stand an automated voice says “Welcome Subject, please choose your fate”	[ "\n\n\n“Hnnng?” The first thing that flashes through my mind is how dry my mouth is, the second is how badly it hurts to think. I open only one of my eyes, slowly, wincing at how ridiculously bright this room is.\n\nThe Voice repeats itself.\n\n“Welcome Subject, please choose your fate.”\n\nI manage to put actual words together this time when I respond. “Excuse me?” I didn’t say they were great words, but I’m confused, everything hurts, and, also, I really hate how bright this room is. \n\nSilence is my only answer. Now, both eyes open, I push myself onto my knees, and inspect the three crates placed in a horizontal line across from me. At the same time I am suddenly aware that besides the dull pain pulsing throughout my body, I don’t feel anything.\n\nI’m not cold, I’m not hot, I just am. I don’t feel my lungs expanding as I breathe, which triggers my next thought: am I breathing? A downward glance cast at my chest confirms that indeed, I am breathing. I try holding my breath, and I can’t. My diaphragm continues working per usual despite my best efforts.\n\n“What the fuck.” Again, the The Voice repeats itself. \n\nAm I in a choose your own adventure novel or what? I think sardonically to myself, rising to my feet.\n\n“Could you do something besides repeat yourself?” I mumble, taking a few tentative steps forward - approaching the crate sitting in the center.\n\nFor the first time, I notice how unique each box is; they don’t share any qualities with each other, the exception being their rectangular shape. The box I’m approaching exacerbates my sore eyes, covered in what I would assume is - or is like - diamonds, catching the overwhelming reflected white light a thousand different ways.\n\nIt is beautiful, I notice while spying bits of rainbows that dance where the light and crystal meet just right.\n\nGingerly, I reach towards the dazzling crate, only to be interrupted by The Voice again.\n\n“Opening a package indicates the Subject has made their decision, and all decisions are absolute.”\n\nI gradually pull my hand back to my side, making a face. I redirect my attention to the crate on my left, taking a few uneasy steps to get a better look.\n\nThis crate seems less noteworthy than the Diamond Crate, but I suppose you can’t judge a Fate by its Crate.\n\nI snicker madly over my own joke, before composing myself once more. The left most crate looks like polished obsidian, so black that I find myself lost trying to figure out where the darkness begins then ends. The corners jut out and form razor sharp edges that run the length of the crate. I turn away from that Crate, a sense of unease swelling in my belly — I redirect my attention to the last crate.\n\nThe final crate is the least obtrusive of them all. A cube covered in foliage, the closer I get the more I can suddenly smell the fragrance it’s releasing. The scent permeates my nostrils, and I forget the prior uneasiness in just a few moments.\n\nFlowers litter the top of the Final Crate, coming in at least a half dozen colors and species. This crate is the most inviting, playing on more than one of my senses.\n\nThe Voice echoes its original request again, and I return to my starting place; taking in the three crates one last time before I make my decision.\n\nAfter what feels like, and may very well be, an eternity I make my decision.\n\nI inhale one long, slow breath I can’t feel and approach my fate. \n\n“Your decision has been received, we will now process your Fate.”\n\n\n" ]	1
	[WP] Write the scariest story you can in under 1000 words.	[ "\"Papa is coming home.\"\n\nI stare at the swirling black letters as they dance along the glass walls with the movement of her fingers before they evaporate into a puff of black purple haze only to reappear again. Her eyes follow mine. I still remember the first words she wrote when we first met.\n\n\"You will live forever. I swear that you will.\"\n\nI had laughed. That is how stupid I had been. \n\n\"I control the very gates of hell. I determine who comes and who goes.\" I motioned for the soldiers to bring in the aged homeless man that had been five point restrained to a pentagram shaped floor. The edges were treated with the blood of an innocents heart to ensure that escape was never going to be an option. It had tried though and it had burned. The screams were like nails on a chalk board.\n\nThe homeless man looked less than human. Strips of flesh had been torn away across it's chest. An eye hung useless on a cheek that was nearly chewed through. Seeing me, it hissed and spat. \n The girl didn't even move but in her eyes there was a flicker of recognition.\n\n\"If I am correct this is your son. We caught him a little over a year ago during our first experiments. The human flesh brings with it a pain that creatures such as yourself could never imagine.\"\n\nShe glared at me but still refused to talk. The homeless man began bouncing up and down. Blood and drool pooled down it's chin to the floor. \"Mamma. Mamma. Helf veee. Helf vee. Pleeeasse!\"\n\nI nodded and the iridescent light of the holy poured down onto the metal stage. For a moment there was silence and then the horrid screeching began as the flesh melted to the floor. It was death eternal for the demon kind. The four year old leaped to the wall and began pounding. It's keening reminded me of that long lost time when I had stumbled upon a mother dog finding it's puppies dead.\n\nThat is when she had made the promise that I would never experience death.\n\nThe gun shots and screams are growing louder. Her blond hair dances alive with electricity. She is growing anxious as the torturous possibilities that I have shown her moves ever closer within her reach.\n\nIt was a few months ago that I made the largest of my discoveries. Some demons could not be killed, some demons could not be forced to their home, and some demons could summon those more powerful than themselves. \n\nIt was then we discovered the door that could not be closed. The more pushed the quicker it opened. Word soon flowed that the sky above had gone red. An epidemic of demon possession rolled across the earth. The end was not quick.\n\nIn this compound, I was given a vision so that I could bear witness to the horrors being committed upon my wife and children. As the demons could not understand the pains of living flesh neither could I have ever imagined the depravity of the demon mind. It was in these visions that I grew to understand that death was a luxury that would not exist for someone like me.\n\nThere is a pounding on the door as fists begin to rend the metal from the frame. There is a smell of offal and disease that wafts into the room. I glance over at the child who is staring intently into my soul and fears. The demon allows the child to come forward for a minute to say goodbye to the man who sponsored the genocidal butchering of her parents, brothers, and sisters in front of her. It was the only way to splinter a soul enough to allow to allow demon adhesion.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" I whisper but the cold chill that flows over me tells me I am anything but forgiven.\n\nThe little girl retreats back into the safety of the demons care. A smile creeps across her face as the door is torn from it's place and thrown backwards into the abyss of the darkness behind it. I stand up and beg and plead but the demon hosted girl just shakes her head no. \n\nWords written in black purple haze glide across the glass walls.\n\n\"Papa is here.\"\n\n", "Little Laura loved to play with her dolls.\n\nLong blonde hair, smoky lashes, cobalt eyes, slim noses– all of them, absolutely beautiful and perfect. She'd sit them all in a corner of her room so when she came home, she could see their smiling faces poised delicately in her direction.\n\nHer grandmother often brought Laura new dolls every month. Clutching thick, latex bags, the dolls would scatter all across the wood as Laura laughed gleefully and began to twist their joints and dress them up. \n\nOn one particular day, Laura was having trouble getting one of the dolls to go to sleep. The child was curiously pushing on the waxy eyelids, pleading them shut, but from the corner of her eye, Laura saw them flicker open for a few moments and then close again. \n\nLaura hopped into her little bed to sleep, praying that the doll would fall asleep as well. But when she turned on her lamp at midnight to go get a glass of water from the kitchen, she found the doll sitting at her bedside.\n\nLimbs still, eyes open.\n\nLaura must have been dreaming! Impossible that a doll would move of its own accord. She squinched her eyes, blinked three times, and crawled back into bed.\n\nThe next morning, there were two dolls sitting on the bed. One, with long, blonde hair, cobalt eyes, and smoky lashes. The other, a little child who seemed to be made of porcelain.\n\n(A/N: I'm new to writing horror. Please forgive me if this isn't even scary. I just wanted to see what I could come up with.)", "Dad fetched me to give Old Joe a ride. “It’s late,” his gravelly voice barked. “And my eyes don’t see so good in the dark.”\n\nHe handed me a heavy flashlight and the keys to the Chevy. We walked silently out of the house into the cold night. Old Joe stood there waiting like a grim statue, the porch light casting shadows on his wooden face.\n\nOld Joe looked at Dad. Dad stared on back. Finally, Old Joe shrugged and waved me over.\n\nI stepped up into the cab, adjusted the mirrors and the seat, and turned the key in the ignition. No directions needed. I knew where we were headed.\n\nWe drove in silence for what seemed like an hour. We crossed Cripple Creek and into Wheeler Forest. I drove carefully, making sure I kept the truck on the gravel path. There was no moon out tonight so I had to depend on the headlights to make sure I didn’t drive us straight into a tree. If Old Joe was annoyed that I was driving instead of Dad, he didn’t show it. \n\nAs we approached the entrance to the reservation, Old Joe held his hand up. I stopped the truck.\n\n“Your father has told you the rules, yes?” Old Joe said, staring straight ahead.\n\nI nodded.\n\nOld Joe grunted. “Say them.”\n\n“Drive to the circle ground and park. Keep the lights on and car running. Do not leave the car. Do not roll down the windows. Do not turn on the radio. Do not fall asleep.”\n\n“And?”\n\n“And keep the mask on. Until you tell me to take it off, or until I feel sunshine against my face.”\n\nOld Joe grunted again, and waved.\n\nWe drove onto the reservation. I followed the old country road up onto the plateau, retracing the route my Dad had taught me. I knew it by heart. Still, my palms sweated. Dad wasn’t here. And we never did it in the dark.\n\nWe arrived at the circle ground. The Chevy’s headlights illuminated the oval pit surrounded by ceremonial staffs. Each staff had feathers that danced and flickered in the wind. At night, it looked like some invisible puppet was pulling them on a string. I swallowed hard, my dry tongue sticking to my mouth.\n\n“Ok.” Old Joe said. He handed me the blindfold. “I want to see you put it on. It can’t be loose.”\nI tied the blindfold and put it around my eyes, then tightened it. I felt Old Joe’s hand on the back of my head. He jerked the blindfold.\n\nA grunt. Satisfied.\n\nThe car door opened and then slammed shut. I was alone.\n\nI focused on breathing. In and out. In and out. It would be over soon. Old Joe would be back, we could leave, and I could crawl back into my warm bed. In...and...out. My racing heart slowed a little. It would be over soon.\n\nI could hear the Chevy’s engine humming. It had a rhythmic chunk-chunk-chunk to it. In and out. In and out. Chunk-chunk-chunk.\n\nClink.\n\nMy heart skipped a beat. My ears strained, listening for the noise. It was a wrong noise. In and out. In and out. Chunk-chunk-chunk. In and out. \n\nClink. \n\nIt was the sound of metal on metal. Something was touching the car. \n\nClink. Clink. \n\nThe sound was getting closer. Louder. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears as I strained to listen.\n\nClink. Clink. Tap.\n\nThe sound of metal on glass. My window.\n\nTap. Tap. Tap.\n\nIt was right next to me. Looking in. It could see me sitting there, my hands gripping the wheel at ten and two. Blindfold on, staring straight ahead.\n\nTap. Tap. Tap. \n\nI could feel something staring at me. Its eyes boring into my skull. It wanted something. It wanted me to take off the blindfold.\n\nMy right hand started to inch away from two o’ clock. My fingers slowly loosened their grip on the wheel. My arm felt numb. It wasn’t my arm anymore. It was asleep. Or was I asleep, and it was awake?\nTap. Tap.\n\nI felt drool begin to pool out of the corner of my mouth. Was I asleep? I needed to wake up. I needed to open my eyes and get out of this dream. My arm jerked away from the steering wheel and gripped the blindfold, I--\n\n“NO.”\n\nI heard my Dad’s stern voice, clear as day. I dropped my hand down away from the blindfold. Follow the rules. Do not take off the blindfold. Do not look out the window.\n\nTAP. TAP. TAP. TAP.\n\nIt was hitting furiously against the window now. \n\nTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP\n\nA hideous screech made me jump in my seat. The scream echoed into the night, reverberating through the cab of the truck. And then it vanished. \n\nI sat there in silence for a moment. In and out. In and out. Chunk-chunk-chunk.\n\nThe passenger door opened.\n\n“Joe?!” I blurted out immediately.\n\n“Yes.” He said, wearily.\n\nExhausted, I let out a sigh of relief.\n\nI felt an old, weathered hand reach to the back of my head and untie the blindfold. It was soaked with sweat.\n\nHis arm gripped my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Your father is right to be proud.” He grabbed my hand and put it back on the steering wheel.\n\n“Back to town. And keep your eyes on the road until we’re out of the reservation.”\n\nI nodded, and shifted into drive. I pulled a U. The chevy’s lights flicked out over the plain as we turned, chasing shadows into the night. I knew better than to ask about the footprints in the dirt. Some questions are better left unanswered.\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] People fear what they don't understand, even as they watch you burning. But it's not really you on the stake, for you're actually no witch - but a mesmer.	[ "\"I don't understand what he's done,\" I whispered to an older woman near me. She was taking part in the taunts.\n\n\"He's the witch who raped my daw-ter,\" she hissed back.\n\nFor the record, I've done no such thing. I suspect it's her imbecile brother who she lets get away with all things under the sun in denial of his mental handicaps. \n\n\"How do you know? Did you see him in the act?\"\n\n\"Everybody knows!\" She hissed. Of course, because that's what you told them. Why am I even bothering making sense with these people? \n\nI looked at over at Penny, and her boy. She is a good one. Keeps to herself, raising the boy without a father with the help of the village. Why is she here? Certainly because everyone from the village is here, it's the hottest ticket in town. Literally, I'm being burned at the stake!\n\n\"Penny, pray tell, surely you aren't convinced that Jonathan Horothy is a witch?\"\n\n\"Oh Samuel.\" She began.\n\nI had a gift. The taker of forms, I can create the illusion on someone else, and take on an illusion myself. A mesmer, I learned it from my lying, cheating father. He had told me once, \"if you keep up the illusion and truly believe yourself, it will come true. The bigger the lie, the bigger the belief in that lie, the more successful you will be.\" It took me years to master it, but you have to get good at lying so much so that you've fooled yourself. I've taken Samuel the trader's form now so I can view the perspective of this mob. I cast an illusion on poor old Thomas so that it was he burning at the stake and not I. It's fascinating to watch people objectively. You can only do so outside of your own skin lest your own bias turn you into the subject. \n\nPenny continued, \"Samuel, I'm never so sure of things. I've never been disturbed. And mister Horothy has always been pleasant to me. But I've heard stories...\" Not technically disturbed, she never knew it was I who impregnated her. A gift, I gave her!\n\n\"Do you wish to see him burn?\"\n\n\"Why no! I can't ever wish such horrible things to others. But, the things he's done are horrid!\"\n\nThe town sentry ran to the circle. I was burning in the center, the crowd was gathered around, the alderman was close to the pyre, and so was the mayor.\n\n\"Samuel, Samuel the Trader is dead!\" The sentry screamed. The crowd gasped. Little by little they all turned to me. The old hag with the raped daughter hustled over to speak to the mayor. She was so fat under those rags that she ran like you imagine an onion would run.\n\nThe mayor held his hand at his face and rubbed his mustache slowly while looking at me. Looks like I'm caught. I've learned a neat trick. People will have an awful time capturing those that they love most even when they know it can't be real. \n\nIt's at this moment of confidence that I turn about and smile. Jessepie Hornbell grabs at my arm and sneers at having caught me. I take the illusion of that girl he loved most but spurned him. He has obsessed about her even in wedded bliss with another. He quickly unhands me.\n\nChester Nominus jumps on my back and I fall to the ground face first. I am quick to turn around, but I fear he almost had me. Hard to love something you can't see. I turned over to reveal to poor Chester his dear little daughter who fell from an apple tree, hit her head, and fell unconscious forever and ever. Chester gasped and fell backwards off of me.\n\nThe mayor is watching this the entire time. He is usually the rally bearer for the mob. It always ends the same. Several attempts at capture, and then rapture. They all run to their homes, pretend it doesn't exist, until enough happenings happen that we do this all over again.\n\nThe crowd stops around me, hissing, sneering, pointing crosses at me for some reason. The mayor is standing at the fore of the crowd facing me and not prompting anyone to leave. He steps aside and something unexpected appears.\n\nGaine Swishorn. The ugly mutt that was only rumored to be alive. A bastard child of poor old Hagas, locked away in a basement for all 16 of his years. How did they ever get him up? The trouble here is, I don't know Hagas, she died long ago. And I don't know who handled him? Is it the mayor? I took the form of the mayor, but the legendary Gaine kept on walking towards me. I took on the form of the alderman, but the legendary Gaine kept on walking towards me. If I don't know who he loves or admires most, how I can charm him so? Perhaps I should run.\n\nGaine is towering over me. I should definitely run.\n\nI turned around into a mad dash only to have the crowd encircle around me. I looked about and started to take the different forms to affect them but there are so many of them standing in front of me. Gaine put his bear paw on my shoulder and lifted me up with his one bear hand. He turned me about like a carousel for the entire town to see. \n\nI faced the mayor. \n\n\"Will you escape now?\" He asks.\n\nI took the form of his wife. The mayor doesn't flinch.\n\n\"The lies Horothy. The lies, the lies, the lies. I fear you even lie to yourself.\"\n\nPerhaps, perhaps.\n\nGaine brought me over to the fire. I could feel the hot flames on my toes. The leather started to steam all about my outfit and I could feel the scorching heat on my skin. I winced and the crowd applauded.\n\n\"Have Mercy God, on this wretch of a creature. Wretched creature, will you ask the Mercy of the Lord?\" The alderman asks.\n\nI'm wincing heavier and more frequently. The heat is all around me. Only my torso is holding up, but my legs are on fire, my arms are on fire, my face is on fire. \n\nPart 1/2" ]	1
	[WP] Write from the point of view of someone developing Stockholm syndrome.	[ "You never know the surprises that life throws at you. One day I was going through my normal routine ready to go to my usual humdrum job as a sales rep at the local car dealership. \n\nI pressed my remote starter to give my truck enough time to warm up, the fresh fallen snow enveloping the exterior. I glanced at the clock on the microwave. 7:15. Enough time for me to have one more cigarette and another cup of dark roast coffee.\n\nI looked in the mirror as I finished my smoke, making sure my tie was on straight. \"Gotta make sure you're presentable\" I heard my boss repeat in my head. His name was Derek and he was a real douchebag. The kind of boss you put up with only because you have to. I sighed. One of these days I'll muster up the courage to tell him what I think of him. For now I'll just have to suck it up and show up for work like a good boy.\n\nAll of these thoughts continued to roll through my mind as I made my way to the truck, unaware that the rest of my life was going to change that day.\n\nThe traffic lights were all red as every intersection said the universe was out to get me. I just shrugged my shoulders and turned the radio louder. Today I don't give a shit. Come at me universe. Do your worst.\n\nAs soon as I had thought that, I noticed a black SUV coming up fast behind me, snow flying every which way, the SUV swerving as it came closer... closer...until the sound of metal and plastic crunching, and my head hit the steering wheel... lights out.\n\nWhat took place afterwards I only know because my captor informed me later on as I recovered from my injuries in her basement. A concussion, a little whiplash and some minor cuts and bruises. Not bad considering she was intent on murder. But as she dragged me from the vehicle she had a change of heart and decided to spare my life. How considerate.\n\n\"Who are you and what do you want from me?\" I asked her, as soon as I was able to speak. \n\n\"Call me Porshia\" she replied in an accent I couldn't quite place, her face almost angelic... but no I must be crazy to think like that. \"I will give you answers in due time, but for now you rest\" she ordered.\n\nIn the weeks that followed, Porshia explained the situation she was in. She needed money, lots of it, to pay off her debts. My ex-wife had hired her to kill me (Rita--- that low life scum... I should have known she had something to do with this).\n\nFor some reason, the more I listened to Porshia and the more I got to know her, the less I cared about why I wasn't home, why I was still captive. For all I cared she could keep me forever. Yes I was crazy... but also intrigued. There was a certain magic in the way she spoke and the way she moved...\n\nLife has a way of surprising you... bring it on universe...", "W-where am I? was my first thought when I woke up in a bed that wasn't my own, in a room I had never seen before. I felt a little groggy, like I had been asleep for days, as I sat up. After rubbing my eyes I had took a look around me.\n\nThe room was square. It seemed 10x10 ft in size. There were no windows and only two doors, one directly ahead of me and another to the right. No other furniture besides the bed was in the room.\n\nI had gotten up from the bed and had begun walking towards the door ahead of me, it was then that I had realized I was shackled to the bed by my ankle. I had found that the shackle was long enough for me to reach the door, but it hadn't mattered since the door was locked. I had moved to the second do, which opened up into a bathroom. There was a bath tub, mirror, sink, towels hanging, toilet paper and a toilet. The bathroom was also windowless.\n\nAfter that I had went back into the main room. How did I end up here? What I last remembered was leaving my home to go Christmas shopping on a Saturday morning. I had kissed my wife and told her I'd be back by 3:00pm. Maggie must be worried sick I had thought. It could have been that a week had passed since I had last seen my wife because who knows how long I had been asleep for. Why am I even here? Did someone kidnap me? Am I being held for ransom, or has a serial killer abducted me to be his next victim? That last thought had worried me. I had quickly went back to the locked door and frantically tried to open it. The door had to be the way out since the other led to the bathroom.\n\nI had tried with all my might to push open the door. I even had tried kicking it down, but it didn't budge. Defeated, I had went back to sit on my bed. The only option I had was to sit and wait. For what? I didn't know.\n\nI didn't know how much more time had passed with me just sitting on the bed. It seemed like hours until I heard movement from the other side of the locked door. After a couple of minutes the door had opened to reveal a man.\n\nThe man was rather short, maybe 5'5, he had medium length dirty blonde hair, and pale skin. He seemed younger than me by two years. What struck me most about his appearance was his eyes. They were a vivid dark blue.\n\nThe man closed the door behind him as he entered. He hadn't done anything after that. He had just stood there by the door watching me.\n\n\"Who are you?\" I'd decided to ask after a few minutes of silence. The man didn't answer. \"Why did you bring me here? What do you want from me?\" I continued when he hadn't responded. \n\n\"Are you hungry?\" The man asked me before I could ask another question. \"I'm not.\"\n\n\"Are you thirsty?\"\n\nI don't get what's going on I was completely confused, and a bit unsettled at how shy he seemed when he was speaking to me. It had made me think that this person could be a victim of sorts too. He could've been forced into working with the bad guy who had kidnapped me. \n\n\"Can you please tell me who you are?\" I tried asking again. The man hesitated for a moment. \"... My name is Seth.\"\n\n\"Well hello, Seth. My name is Sebastian.\" I said with a friendly smile. If I can get him to trust me than maybe we can help each other to escape \n\nSeth had given me a soft smile in return. \"Seth? I was wondering if you could possibly tell me where I am? Or at least why I'm here?\" Seth started to rapidly shake his head. \"I-I can't. I-I can't. It's too dangerous. I-I have t-to go.\" he stammered as he started for the door. \"Seth! Wait!\" I tried calling out, but it was already too late. Seth had ran out.\n\nAfter that Seth came regularly every day, three times a day. That's how I ended up knowing the time more or less. He'd come in the morning and provide me breakfast, lunch in noon, and dinner later in the day. Also he'd provide me with fresh clothes to change into. During those times I would try asking him more questions about where I was was, and about the captor. Everytime I did though, he'd shake his head and rush out. I ended up switching to just trying to talk to him. Spending so much time alone in the room in between meals was starting to get to me, so being able to at least converse with Seth was nice.\n\nI had ended up learning quite a bit about him. He loved reading books, taking pictures, and cooking (he had been the one making my meals). He seemed like a nice guys which had made me want to escape with him even more.\n\n\"Seth?\" I had asked one time when he wheeled in my lunch. \"Yeah, Sebastian.\"\n\n\"Do you think you can do me a favor?\" Seth had tilted his head at that \"What is it?\"\n\n\"I need you to find the keys for my shackles.\" Seth had started to shake his head rapidly. \"I c-cant do that!\" I knew he was about to runaway again so I had grabbed him. \"Please, Seth!\"\n\n\"No! If you get free then you'll leave a-and I'll be all alone!\"\n\n\"You can come with me, Seth!\"\n\n\"I can't do that because if I do you'll leave me and they'll take me because of what I did!\" with that he pulled away from me with surprising strength and ran out the room.\n\nHis words had kept circling around my head. They'll take him because of what he did? Who'll take him? Did he think the bad person who had kidnapped him would find him and take him again? Or.... Or did he mean the police. I didn't know.\n\nSeth hadn't come back after that. Even to give me dinner. The next day he had been a no show. Then the day after that.\n\nBy the time he did show up I was starving. The only reason I hadn't gotten dehydrated was because I had been drinking from the sink in the restroom. He hadn't said anything at first as I had started to stuff my face with the sandwich he provided me, I only barley kept myself from choking.\n\n\"Sebastian... I wish I could let you go. I-I want to, but having you here and talking to you... It's wonderful. You don't know how long I've waited for you. I needed someone like you. Without you I would have already given up on myself.... I would have just d-died.\"\n\nI had looked up from my food at that.\"What do you mean, Seth?\"\n\n\"You can never leave here. I'm sorry, Sebastian.\" he had left after saying that.\n\nI don't know for how long I've been staying in the room. I've tried counting the days, but I had end up forgetting them. Seth still comes in with food and fresh clothes. I hadn't talk to him at first, but as I said before, there is only so much loneliness I could take. \n\nThroughout this time I still think about my wife, how she probably thinks I'm dead. Also how I can't be mad at Seth.\n\n He had told me how he suffers from extreme depression and mental illness, also how people had have treated him poorly all his life.\n\n Apparently he had been working at a gas station I had once used, and because I had been nice to him he latched onto that. I was the first person to ever show any kindness to him, so he became obsessed with me. He had seemed so pathetic when he had talked about how happy he had felt when I had given him a smile.\n\n I guess that's why I don't really blame him for keeping me here, I mean he hasn't treated me wrong. In fact he's always kept to being kind. I actually think he has a crush on me, it's kinda cute, in a way.\n\nI think maybe it's not good that I'm beginning to feel alright with everything. \n\nHell, I gotten a chance to escape the other day. Seth had given into my pleads to go outside, so as long as I promised not to do anything. He had unshackled me and lead me out of the room. I ended up finding out that my room was in the basement of a one story house, and when I went outside, that we were in a very remote place surrounded by forest. I didn't do anything other then take in the fresh air, I know I should have tried to escape. Instead I had went on a walk with him. It had been a nice summers day as we walked and talked together. After that I had done nothing but let him lead me back into my room.\n\nI guess because I feel bad for him I don't want to up and leave. He would probably kill himself if I left him alone. I think after awhile he'll let me go on his own, once he realizes that he should seek professional help for his depression and mental health. When Seth is ready he'll definitely let me free. I'm sure of it, and that's what I'll keep telling myself as the days pass. ", "How long has it been since I last saw sunlight? Since I've eaten anything but cold, watery gruel? No matter how I shout or rattle the bars, my guards would not respond. They do not speak English. As far as I am concerned, they are not there. There is only me in my windowless cell. \n\nIn the first few weeks, I kept up with my exercise, but the monotony of my stay has weighed on my limbs. Weighed on my heart. I may never see my country again. My house. My family. What difference does it make, how I spend my time? The meal they serve had scarcely enough nutrition to keep me alive. Exercise had little point. \n\nSo what did I do? I sang to myself. I sang carols and nursery rhymes, pop, rock, and rap. They must've believed me mad, but what else was I to do? Sometimes I'd catch the guard tapping his foot. The one on the left, with the beard.\n\nI made up stories. This cell, I reasoned, once belonged to a terrifyingly strong man, who ripped his chains from the wall. Granted, the marks were more likely from a displaced bunk bed, but my version was more interesting. His name was Olaf the Crusher. He strangled twenty men with his bare hands and it took a cannon to bring him down.\n\nThe skinny guard on the right was always grumbling. Probably about his success with women. In his off time, he'd hop from bar to bar, leaving a trail of broken hearts. He carried a mean look. Perhaps he'd killed before. Perhaps he didn't want to kill again. He smoked. The smell would occasionally drift over when he entered, and stir a foreign scent into the grey air. \n\nThe bearded guard on the right brings in my food. He was a soldier, just like me. He went through the same training. He, too, lost friends, and is only following orders. We may have gotten along, had we not been on opposite sides. \n\nThey were my captors. And though I hated everything they stood for, I cannot hate them. They've killed my brothers. I've killed theirs. I was told one thing. They were told another. Why should I hate them? Because of the color of their skin? Because of their culture? Because of what they did. Because of what they did, but they were misled. It was not their fault. \n\nThey're calling me outside. One is waiting with a video camera, and the other with a knife. In their eyes, I see no malice, but sorrow. The gesture for me to kneel before their flag. I feel the metal pressing against my throat. And I forgive them. \n\n[subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/)\n" ]	3
Optional: They immediately proceed to go on a rampage.	[WP] Humans are actually an ancient, god-like race. They were imprisoned in the Sol system billions of years ago by the other races of the galaxy, and have long forgotten their heritage. Now the first human in eons has left the solar system.	[ "\"The humans have left the solar system? How is this possible? We just stranded them there only eons ago.\" Rike, The God of Gravity yelled. \n\n\"We underestimated their creative drive, and desire for freedom.\" Young Fut said. \"I fear they may have been galvanized by their imprisonment, and that they--\"\n\n\"--lust for revenge.\"\n\n\"We need to know how they have accomplished this. We need to prepare, immediately.\"\n\nThe Qayins assembled utop their highest peak to assess the potential threat. Colorful lightning splashed harmlessly around them. \n\n\"We fear that one among us may have aided the humans in escaping from their prison.\" \n\n\"No.\" Chroni, The God of Time said, flatly. \"I tried to warn you.\"\n\n\"Warn us of what, Chroni?\"\n\n\"Their prison is far less dense than our world.\" Chroni began. \"They took the long road.\"\n\n\"What does that mean, Chroni?\" \n\n\"The density of our planet accelerates our travels through time.\" Chroni attempted to explain.\n\nThunder rolled loudly through the atmosphere. \n\n\"Are you telling us that they have been advancing at a faster pace due to their planet?\" \n\n\"Yes. Though to them it's been a long, tiresome journey.\" Chroni said. \n\n\"How long?\" \n\n\"At least ten times longer than it has been for us. They aren't even the same species anymore.\" Chroni assured them. \"They don't even know they were once gods.\"\n\n\"They do not know about us.\" \n\n\"Correct.\"\n\n\"Are they still powerful?\"\n\n\"Perhaps, but it would seem they have surpressed their powers.\"" ]	1
	[WP] 30 years ago, unidentified, indestructible objects suddenly sprouted in various locations on Earth. All life forms who enter them never return or make further contact. You have breached government security cordons to enter one.	[ "Finally, the damn camera was turned off by Mizek. I immediately ran and reached the Cave of Never Return, at least that's what the Imperials call it. Anyway, when I entered it, I realized something horribly wrong with my hands. They seemed distant, like someone's echo. I think I collapsed at this point, because I have no idea what happened next. At least until I woke up.\nThere was a door at the end of the tunnel, which disappeared right when I reached for its knob. And then another, on the other side. Only this one was made of metal. I ran quickly, lest this should disappear as well. But the same thing happened this time, the door disappeared before I could even touch the doorknob. The door which appeared at the other end this time was a bit, well shiny. Or at least that's how I would put it. I reached the door and decided not to touch it. I tried a little experiment. I filled my air with lungs, but the door disappeared before my lungs were full, as if realizing what I was going to do. The last door was ... fleshy. I decided I was not going to touch it and suddenly, the door got close to my hand and I was forced to touch it as I couldn't control my muscles.\nWhat followed next was... Well bizzare in a way and weird on the other. I was back in my room. But there was something different. Something was wrong here. Or something was wrong with me. See, I didn't used to have four arms. And for some weird reason their was a note on my table. All it said was \"Your target is XXXXXXXXX\".\nOn that fateful day, I became the fearful assassin known as Sheeva.\n\nThis was my first stupid prompt\n" ]	1
	[WP] You die. When you reopen your eyes you find yourself in a business office facing Satan who is offering your soul a work contract in return for a better form of afterlife.	[ "Hell. From one business meeting straight to another, I couldn't say I was surprised, although I'm sure my ex-wife was happy, she always told me this is where she wanted me to go. I looked at Satan, watching me as I adjusted myself, smiling a grim smile. Yes, negotiations were going to happen, and he already knew that he had the upper hand. \n\nI adjusted my tie, and smiled back. I never got a bad deal, and today definitely wasn't going to allow this to be the first time. \"So...\" I said, indicating I was ready to start. I'm sure he'd had some hard hitting businessmen in the past, but I already knew I was better than them. I wasn't going to let a silly heart attack throw me off of my game.\n\n\"So,\" he smiled showing his teeth, sharp and demonic, he was trying to scare me, \"Four divorces, eight children all with different mothers, greed, adultery, gluttony, money laundering, and that's just the tip of the iceberg...\" he said, glancing at the open file on his desk. It was fairly thick, but that didn't bother me. I knew he had the dirt on me, but that wasn't going to stop me.\n\n\"That's why you need me,\" I said smoothly, not missing a beat.\n\n\"Oh?\" he asked with a smirk, \"I need you do I?\" He leaned his elbows on the desk, folding his hands under his chin, leaning forward. He had a twinkle of amusement in his dark eyes.\n\n\"Of course you need me,\" I pushed my glasses up and smiled, \"You've read my file, do you really think you could find a better manager than me?\"\n\n\"I think I've managed things pretty well so far,\" he said leaning back, trying to look relaxed. I was already starting to get the upper hand, although he could be toying with me, it still felt like a good sign. His nonchalant act wasn't fooling me. \n\n\"Really? How many cracks did I stomp on? My mother's back didn't break once. I spilled salt and my luck only seemed to get better,\" I continued to list the typical superstitions that never came true for me. With every one I listed his smile slowly faded until he was frowning. He had clearly forgotten to manage the demons that were supposed to be making superstitions come true. \n\n\"Shut up!\" he snapped, suddenly looking like the mother-in-law, Jude, from my first marriage. What a shred woman. I hated her, being stuck in a room with her was one of my worst nightmares. Satan's quick change in appearance to look like her was definitely a good sigh, I was on the right track. \n\nI leaned back smirking, \"Like I said, you need me.\"\n\nThe Jude look alike was fuming, she started to yell, acting just like that blasted woman, but I was in business mode, I knew who it really was, he wasn't about to fool me. He made a mistake trying to go into a negotiation with me. As he continued all I could do was relax, my smile growing, knowing that he was losing it because he couldn't defend his inactions. \n\n\"Are you going to make me a manager or not?\" I asked cooly. \n\nSatan turned back into himself, clearly frustrated. He looked at my file again and grumbled as he flipped through it, starting to list good acts that I've done. Knowing that I wasn't about to go to heaven for those few deeds, I dismissed each one, citing appearances and how I was only using those good acts to advance my career and my company. I had taken my father's small building business in the middle of nowhere and turned it into a construction empire. \n\nI walked out of the office, the proud manager of the superstition demons. A cushy office, a nice place to rest, yes, my own slice of heaven in hell. " ]	1
	[WP] An old man, afraid of death, finally fades from this world. He finds that his reaper is the dog he had as a child.	[ "Another morning, another night, another day in my life. It hurts to stand, my knees are killing me. I may live in a lovely acreage, but it doesn’t have the glow it use to have. Almost everything I own feels of rocks, except the chair on my porch. I don’t normally complain so much, today must be an off day. Everything seems a lot more hollow now, ever since I lost my best friend. I don’t want the same fate as her, it’s the most terrifying thing I’ve witnessed; death. Another Tuesday morning begins to roll over as I walk to my pouch and enjoy my childhood view. As I begin to sit down in my rusty old ally I feel the pain set in. Although this doesn’t feel like my usual knee pain… oh no. My vision begins to fade as I clutch my chest. I can feel a void creep in, I feel like I’m falling in a pool of water and I can’t swim up. Why now? I’m still not ready with this stress.\n\nI woke up lost in confusion. A black room with no walls but yet still bright as day. I stood up with ease. My body felt of youth, I couldn't feel the pain in my knees anymore.\n“Hey, do you remember who I am?” a deep voice barked left of my direction. \nI turn to see a husky with a white coat, no markings. She brought a wave of nostalgia with gloom. A few seconds pass only to feel like minutes as I realize what this dog means to my past and self. I clear my throat and say “What’s going on? Why can you talk, are you Ares?”\n“I was called Ares by you, but In reality as you would call It, I am the grim reaper. I am here to judge you for how you treated me as your pet.” The voice echoed across the void. \nMy voice began to weaken “I never meant for that to happen to you. I wasn’t even able to tie my shoes when It happened.”\n“You learned as a result of my suffering, didn’t you?” The reaper shot back. Walking closer to lessen the gap between us. My legs started to feel old again, but without the pain.\n“What happens after you judge me?” I asked\n\nThe reaper answered like a guillotine “You’ll discovery that after we are done here.” It paused “Would you want me to explain what happened or should you?’\nI replied “I will, I’ve lived a long life but still haven’t forgotten that night… We were playing in the field, I was learning to throw a stick and you’d get It and sometimes bring it back. It was all well and good until it hit your eye. I can still hear your yelp, but after that moment of pain, you got the stick out of what use to be your eye. I sprinted back to my parents telling them what happened. They didn’t tell me what would happen to you, my girl. I didn’t need them to tell me. They brought you and myself inside and told me they’d be gone for a couple hours to get the vet.” I could feel my eyes water. “So we waited, you acted fine as I sat near you watching the blood drip from your eye. I was moving the shoes around to curb the fear in my stomach. I feared what was to come of you, what was going to happen next. You’d notice, attempt to comfort me by walking closer, this would lead in me yelling at you to stay. I was scared of you, I was scared of myself. As the time went on I tried to tie my shoes because I was never taught, nobody had time for me besides you. I tried and tried until I got It right and when I did I started to sob uncontrollably because my best friend was going to die and I couldn’t do anything about it.” I fell to my knees. It became hard to talk. The reaper in dog form walked to me giving me the comfort I needed.\n\nThe reaper spoke “After which you fell asleep. Your parents got home, put me down and tucked you in bed. You turned a bad situation around for yourself. You made a mistake, but you also cared for me and given friendship to a dog. You’ve lived a life with adversity. With that adversity you created safety. You respected me and treated me as family. For that you will be sent to experience a land of safety, comfort, and love.”\nI hugged the white beast as my body slowly vanished and entered a new world.\nedit:grammar and spelling!\n", "\nMy grandfather always had a lab by his side. Even as a kid, in fact the earliest photo we had in our extended family, was a water stained sepia toned 4 by 6 with a torn edge and a crease down it's center, showing a laughing, tousle headed, gap toothed kid - obviously delighted, getting his face vigorously licked by a shaggy Labrador puppy with a furiously wagging tail. My grandfather carried it in his wallet and claimed it was his good luck charm. \"Their used to be two copies of this photo\" he once told me, when I was around 6 or 7, as he scratched behind the ears of the lab next to him. \"The puppy in the photo ate the other one!\" He laughed at that for some reason, and the lab snoozing by his side. Dusty? Had sleepily wagged his tail once, back and forth.\n\nA lot had changed since that photo was taken and a lot had stayed the same. He seemed as small as a kid again, shriveled up under the thin blanket, gasping for air. The hair he had left in the back was tousled, and the gap was still there between his front teeth, and just like then, he still had a lab by his side, though this one was far from being a puppy. \n\nThis was, Dustin, I think? My grandfather had given them all similar names, and once, when I was 16 and having my first beer with him in the garage one Thanksgiving, he had whispered loudly, \"don't let him hear me telling you this but they are all the same dog!\" I had laughed at the idea, it was absurd, but weirdly plausible, they all looked the same. But mostly I was delighted by his conspiratorial whisper, by the way his whiskers tickled my ear, by the beer, and by the way Dusty (was it still Dusty, or was it the one after that?) had come bounding in at the word \"dog\" and had jumped up and knocked the beer out of my hand, trying to vigorously lick both of our faces as his tail wagged furiously. \n\nIt was a cherished memory. All of my memories of my grandfather were. I loved him and his dogs - even this one, Dustin I think his name was, a blind, fat, diabetic lab with a white muzzle, runny eyes and patches of hair missing. He was arthritic, slow, irritable, lame in one leg and practically at death's door himself and he'd be the last lab my grandfather would ever own.\n\nMy grandfather passed away that night, surrounded by family, with one shrunken hand on Dustin's white and patchy muzzle. Dustin closed his eyes for the last time just a moment later, making an almost human sounding sigh, as his tail swept back and forth a single time before laying still for good. \n\nThe rest of the family, those left behind, comforted each other the best we could, crying a bit, holding each other, murmuring comforting phrases, and then we heard it, we all did, from outside the open window, blown in by a stray breeze, the fading sound of playful barking and the laughter of a delighted child.\n" ]	2
	[WP] You are the lone survivor on Earth. You have spent the last 30 years searching the globe for any signs of life, when one day, you find a sign that says "There are more of you." You spend the rest of your life searching for the person who wrote the message, never to remember that it was you.	[ "There. Are. More. Of. You.\n\nI read it. A sign, written by a unnamed tormenter. They are always ahead of me. Just over the hill or behind the mountain. I would feel pain, but it has been too long. I feel sand. I feel snow. I feel rain. I feel the sun. My bones ache, my muscles twitch. But I do not feel pain. I am not alive. The hurt does not make it real, danger does not make me fear. There is no choice, no thought. I simply put one foot in front of the other. I cannot remember. Before, there was nothing. After, there is nothing. I have but one memory. It a sign. It sits in golden sand, driven in crudely. The sun hits it, emboldening those letters that are frozen in my mind. \n\nThere. Are. More. Of. You.\n\nI scribble those letters on the board, perhaps with the hope of remembering it one last time. I do not struggle to remember it, in fact the opposite. It occupies the past, the future, the present. I do not see, and the world went silent many years ago. I operate my hands deftly, pressing together the board and the stave. I can only hope that my pain will end soon. I cant tell how I continue. I do not remember when I ate last, or when I slept last. Pain rips up my arm as I hammer the nail that joins the sign and its post in holy matrimony. Weariness is a part of me, running through my veins. It stiffens my joints, holds my thoughts captive, acts as a chain and ball on my ankle. My body seems to move but it has been long since I have thought to. I am no longer alive, I am the desert I cross, the rock I scale, an inanimate piece of flesh who moves despite his death. I choose the ground. It does not matter too much to me. I finish hammering in the sign. It sits in the bare earth, engraved on it;\n\nThere. Are. More. Of. You.\n", "As I walked away from the rubble that was my home, I turned and took one last glance at Magnolia street. I thought that I’d live in that house all my life, that I’d start a family there. \n\nBut that was before the bombs dropped. Huge bombs that cast mushroom clouds that scorched the earth and blasted everything near it to dust. Bombs that sent blasts out that shook the earth hundreds of miles from it. That kicked up rocks and glass and concrete and then spit it out in all directions.\n\nI don’t know how many bombs dropped. I know that one dropped right near Austin and that’s it. I haven’t heard anything on the radio. All tv stations are offline and I haven’t seen a single person since the bombs dropped. No messages, no emergency broadcasts, nothing. \n\nBut if I made it then others made it too. They had to have made it. They had to. That’s why I left signs around my home. For the others. \n\nAnd so I began looking. Began searching for at least one other soul on the scorched earth. \n\nAnd I’m still looking to this day. It’s been thirty years since the bombs. At least I think it’s been thirty. I haven’t been keeping track. But I think thirty. It feels like it’s been thirty. It looks like it too. \n\nDespite the fallout, nature has slowly taken back the earth. Vines and ivy grow out of buildings. The forests have swelled, reclaiming lost territory. There’s animals too. I see deer, hear birds, small rodents. Some of them are twisted and gnarly and mutated but they’re here. \n\nSo there has to be other people too. I hope. Maybe they’ll be twisted and gnarly but at least they’ll be there. I’ll occasionally catch my reflection in glass or water and see that I’m twisted and gnarly, too. I guess that’s what thirty years alone in an empty world do. At least I think thirty years alone. \n\nMy feet feel especially sore today. I’ve walked a long distance today. I walk almost everywhere now. Cars stopped working a long time ago. At least I haven’t found one that still runs. Most of them are overrun with plants growing out of them. Some are rusted over. It’s been a long time since they’ve been used. Just sitting for thirty years, I think. \n\nMaybe when I find the others they’ll have a car and I won’t have to walk so much. I hope they do. I hope they’re near. \n\nWhen the sun rises I set off again. I don’t know where to but I do. I don’t even know where I am. Everything’s changed so much. It’s been so long that nothing is the same. I think it’s been thirty years. Has to be. \n\nStill no sign of others but I know they’re out there. They have to be. Have to. Somedays I see my reflection and get my hopes up. Somedays I find what looks to be a makeshift shelter and I continue in the direction. I’m getting close. I know it. \n\nSomedays I just feel crazy. I probably look it too. I hope the others don’t think I’m crazy when I find them. I hope that I’m not too far gone. But I’m worrying that I’m running out of time. I’m much older. Maybe thirty years older. And I’ve been alone with just my thoughts and the rubble. I hope I find them fast. \n\nAnd one day, as my feet are cracked and swollen and I can barely walk any further, I see it. Something that I haven’t seen in years. In thirty years I think. A message. Just sitting on the side of a building. It’s covered by vines and moss and faded but it’s there. It’s there for me. Because the others left it for me. \n\n“You are not alone. There are more of you.” \n\nI jump up and keep moving because they’re close. They’re so close and I can’t afford to stop now. I’m filled with the energy I had twenty years ago when I first started looking. Twenty years? Or was it thirty? It doesn’t matter because I found them. \n\nI shout for joy and keep moving, practically running up the street. I’m close. I’ll find the others soon. Just gotta keep moving because there so so so close now. \n\nI take one look around again, just soaking in the place where I finally found the proof that I wasn’t alone after twenty, no thirty years. I hadn’t found them but I’m so close. And they’re here. The proofs on the wall. And this is where it happened. \n\nI take one look at the house, reclaimed by the earth. The moss that’s had thirty years to seep up through the street. The street sign that’s tilted and has vines wrapped all around it, almost obscuring the street name. Magnolia. \n\nI gotta keep moving. I don’t have another thirty years. ", "When I was a child I used to love spending time in the wilderness with my grandfather. He'd take me on weeks long trips during the summer months with nothing but a backpack and canteen between us. \n\nI wonder if he would be proud to see me now, to know that those summers helped to prepare me for the this empty world. \n\nThat's how I try to think about my endless wandering, as an endless camping trip. Gather, hunt, scavenge and setup camp for a while. Very few months I pack-up and move along into the endless abyss humanity left behind. \n\nI don't know where everyone went or what happened. During the end I was sailing the ocean, out on a month long vacation and enjoying the solitude. No phones, no radios, no TV just the waves and a good book. All the tech was turned off and powered down. \n\nWhen I finally returned to port the world was empty. It was like everyone simply vanished while going about their daily business. Cars running, shops open and coffee brewing. \n\nThat was 30 years ago. For 30 years I've traveled this world looking for another survivor. Bit by bit I've watched the world of man decay and mother nature flourish. Each city I visit, each town I find paints a dismal picture.\n\nThere's no one left is there?\n\nI traveled the coast, hoping to find survivors in the massive coastal cities of the USA. Then into what was Canada with zero luck. I traveled west to the capital in hopes there was some semblance of the military guarding the white house. \n\nIt was empty. I camped out in the oval office for a few months before travelling to California. It was my all time favorite camping spot. There was so much to explore and I found great solace in knowing that this place was always busy with activity.\n\nAfter a while I decided to continue west to California. There I found a boat in good condition with fuel, sails and supplies. I traveled the oceans and searched Japan, China, Russia and most of Europe. \n\nNothing.\n\nNo one.\n\nI age, I think, I hunger, I scream, I cry, I beg and I pray.\n\nI must be alive...\n\nThe ancient cities of the United Kingdom are mostly ash now. Ages ago some great fire broke out and cleansed the cities. Near a small coastal outpost I found a boat and a warehouse filled with rations. Its not an uncommon thing for me to find, over the years I've developed a 6th sense for spotting military outposts. Usually they're hidden in plain sight and not very well secured. Those that are usually don't stand the test of time, that or nature has found a way in.\n\nCrossing the water once again I dodge the floating testaments of human engineering. The planes all fell from the sky but the ships, these great ships continued on until the winds or the water took them to their final resting place. This cargo ship seemed to host thousands upon thousands of birds, I wonder where they'd all end up.\n\nThe hardest thing about the end is there's no where to go. So many times I wake up with no where to go, so I lie still for days and weep. Eventually moving on when supplies run low, or the weather threatens to turn sour or when the animals get too curious.\n\nWith no where to go I return to the one place I could think of to wait out the end. Back to the seat of power that once ran the world. \n\nThere in the oval office, I sit at the great desk which once commanded an empire. Its halls now empty and facade decaying to time. \n\nOn top the desk I place my pistol, a nice little 5 round revolver I found whilst scavenging in Province Town. I liked the gun, it sat presently in my hand and it was light enough to carry on my hip all these years. My hunting rifle changed every few months depending on what ammo or parts I found in my travels. But the pistol I kept always.\n\nI sat for for a time, waiting for the end and staring at the ceiling. As I looked down I found the gun resting on a presidential note pad. Its black rubber grip obscured something nearly written on the page like a long forgotten executive order. The page was yellowed and frail and the ink sun worn, barely visible. \n\nI squinted, leaning down close and bringing a candle near. \n\n\"There are more of you\"\n\nI wept. I screamed. I jumped. I sung. I danced.\n\nSomeone wrote this, they left it here for me to find. They must have come here, as I did to search for survivors. \n\nIn the morning I continued my search. For 20 years I search city after city and town after town. Eventually the I could only walk, the vehicles were all long dead the gas gone bad or engines seized. Some I was just too weak to push start anymore. \n\nToo old. \n\nIn the mountains my campfire crackles, the birds chirp and my stomach growls at the scent of dinner cooking over the fire. My feet, my arms, my joints and bones hurt. I'm tired, I'm so tired and alone. I've spent 53 years alone, wondering the world now just a vast wilderness. Its harder and harder to find relics of the past and travel gets harder and harder. I don't get the miles I used too and my mountain cabin has been home for the last year. \n\nI tried leaving signs to let others know I still live. But nature has other plans and they don't last long. I've stopped venturing down to the bones of the city. Its over grown and much too treacherous, I dont have the strength to make the trip anymore.\n\nClosing my eyes I try and to remember the bustle of a city full of people. Then the memories of my travels.\n\nStanding on the field of Michigan stadium, exploring the urban sprawl of Tokyo and climbing the Eiffel tower to watch the sunset. \n\nA life time of memories, a life time of loneliness. \n", "The war took everything from me.\n\nWhen I emerged from the rubble of civilization, there was nothing left any longer. Some had died fighting a war unknown, others perished in their homes; rotting away to nothingness. I alone walked the earth in the advent of its destruction.\n\nThe breakdown of most things came about over the span of the next ten years, and sooner or later, nature itself had reclaimed the land that we had taken from her. Feral beasts and critters alike had taken over our empires, turning them into nothing more than a hostile den.\n\nOn my thirtieth year, I set foot in a city I had not been before; in hopes of securing materials for the winter ahead, I came across a note hastily scrawled upon a tattered piece of parchment. I initially paid it no mind, because it came off as nothing more than scrap. But when the wind blew hard my way, I noticed but a single word upon it.\n\nYou.\n\nI had no reason to pay it mind, but in a way it almost felt like it was talking to me. For after all, there was nobody else it could talk too anyway. For me, it was a long abandonment of hope over the last thirty years, as I slowly realized that I truly had been abandoned by humanity. So with a cautious hand, I retrieved it, and the words upon it made me freeze where I stood, unable to comprehend if it were truth or lie.\n\nThere are more of you.\n\nIt seemed like a cruel joke for but a moment – an unlucky page which made its depart from the comfort of its book, only to taunt me in my dying days. But with my second glance I noticed that the words were not written in pen or pencil, but the hasty smudges of a long since faded red. Blood.\n\nIn that moment, I knew that there had to be another human, maybe one who had left this earth and now rested upon the soil – or a tribe of wanderers, desperately trying to find another person to join them. But the note bore no directions or further clues, nothing but a scribbled note on a paper on which I couldn't identify its origin.\n\nAnd so, with the paper held dear to me, I wandered out into the world again, hoping that one day I would find the writer of the note.\n\n* * *\n\n^/r/khaarus" ]	4
	[WP] After being transported to a magical world, you are at a lose of what to do. So you decide to follow in your grandfather's footsteps and start the family business. You go on to build the largest criminal empire this world has ever seen with even kings under your command.	[ "Purple sands and grey skies surrounded a man who was tall in stature, but truly made large through achievement. He stood on the precipice of his balcony as the twinkling lights of the city began to peter out. As the grey lights sunk beneath glass hills and dazzling landscapes, the town's citizens moved their celebrations into their homes or helped friends make it to the correct bed. \n\nSighing, the king of this utopia leaned against his railing and scratched at a graying beard, chuckling as a band of children ran around below. Today marked another celebration of a peaceful year of unity and peace and the king was in a mood of wistful remembrance.\n\nBack when this taller than tall man was only known for his height in inches, back when his beard was still battling to break out against the skin of his chin, back when this king was merely a boy there were stranger sights to be seen. Landscapes did not roll, the skies were grey with smoke instead of natural light and glass hills were replaced by glass structures. How the boy ended up in a world of natural color and strange creatures was still unknown to this wise king.\n\nStill, he was raised by a man whose height reached the heavens in this boy's eyes. When the boy's small father left him, the wisened hands of his grandfather were quick to hold him close and teach him was manhood really was: kindness, strength and generosity.\n\nThe boy traveled with this wise, tall man from house to house as he greeted each face by name and shook every hand that was offered, replacing hands with letters, packages and words from loved ones. And on the days his grandfather did not pass out these notes, the boy got a treat. He would see the tall man who raised him gather all the children and tell them stories. Stories of ships and pirates. Stories of love and loss. Stories of revolution and freedom. And right when it got the good part, he would stop and say, until we meet again. The children would sigh and plead, but walked away, eagerly anticipating the next continuation of the story.\n\nOne day though, the story never continued. The tall man didn't walk door to door, didn't deliver letters of love, and didn't gather the children. He simply did not show again. And on that day the boy ran and ran until he arrived in the land of glass hills and purple sands.\n\nCrying at first, he wandered around, unsure of where to go and what to do. He met strange creatures, unfamiliar faces and towns that were small. As he grew physically, the boy became used to these sights and decided to be tall like his grandfather. So he went door to door and greeted everyone. He delivered letters, packages and words of love. He gathered all the children and told them stories. Stories of ships and pirates. Stories of love and loss. Stories of revolution and freedom. And right when it got the good part, he would stop and say, until we meet again.\n\nOne day, the stories stopped though. Instead, the citizens said they would write their own story of freedom and marched to their cheating and merciless king. Finally, the citizens won and decided to elect their new ruler. Unanimously, they elected the tall, wise man who told them stories. Who gave them words of love and knew them by name. Though the only name the citizens knew him by was \"The Postman.\"\n\nThe grey lights had finally gone out and the Postman turned to look up at the battlements. The new flags whistled in the wind, displaying a blue bird racing towards its freedom. He smiled and nodded into the night before turning around and heading to sleep.\n\nEdit: Wrote this and theeeen saw the \"criminal\" organization part... Sooo whoops? Too late and I like it too much to change it XD", "Jones Mallone’s vision darkened and the light spun. He shook his slightly to fix it, it only made it worse, and he managed to drop to his knees on to the soft ground below. Something about that did not quite make much sense. He was in a concrete warehouse, why was the floor soft. He squeezed his eyes shut and counted to five mentally. Then forced his eyes open. He was in a clearing along with his men, his suppliers, and the four trucks. Two of which he knew to be empty, the other two had the weapons and ammo loaders they had ordered. Farther past the congregated mass of people, all kneeling or laying on the ground and vehicles, there were trees.\n&nbsp;\n\nAs he looked around he saw some of them starting to take in their surroundings. He knew the curses would come soon. “What the FUCK” was the first he heard, coming from the seller’s side. Jones turned his head his mind racing, what happened, and how can I take advantage of this. He saw Larry Sparik stalking over to him, glaring, his Glock un-holstered and in his hand. “What did you do!?”\n&nbsp;\n\nJones raised a hand slowly; his day always told him to appear in control no matter how wrong things appeared to be going.\n&nbsp;\n\nThen Jones got to his feet as gracefully as he could, wiping the dark dirt off of his knees, then turned his whole body to face Larry. “I just stood up.” he spoke calmly to him, “And I too would like to find out what happened here.” His eyes never left Larry’s eyes as he spoke, one wrong move and this would be more than the disaster it already was, it would be a blood bath. And one thing Jones didn’t like doing was wasting his men, he had spent men before, but he did his best to never just waste their lives needlessly.\n&nbsp;\n“There are more of you than I thought I was summoning.” Said an older voice, Larry spun towards it breaking eye contact with Jones and pulling his gun. Before Jones could stop him, He fired two shots. Hitting the new comer twice square in the chest. A scream of pain erupted from the old man as the two bullets penetrated his chest. \n&nbsp;\n\nHe fell, and Jones cursed, “Fuck.” Before rushing past Larry, knocking the gun out of his hand as he passed. “You just shot the man who might know how and why we got here.” He spoke quickly, his words running together. He quickly made his way to the old man. He took a moment to assess the damage. The old man was going to die, one shot in each lung. His blood was staining his blue robes, dark spots spreading from the two points of impact. Off to the side dropped when he fell was an oddly carved walking staff. And the old man was wearing entirely too much jewelry, all of it looking feminine with gaudy large gemstones at least one embedded in each piece. \n&nbsp;\n\nA gurgling cough escaped the man’s mouth and he forced out parts of his last sentence, “I I brought you… to…. Prevent… great evil.” Jones sat there next to the old man. Looking down on him a moment before standing back up. Once again wiping the dirt off his pants, he would honor the old man’s request in his own way. He would need to find a way home, and to do that he needed something stable. He looked back at the thirty men he had with him, they would be a start. He took off a couple pieces of jewelry the man was wearing.\n&nbsp;\n\n“Barry I need you to organize everyone here, make sure the vehicles are working. We may need to move them, and make sure the inventory is spread between all of them. Best to be safe.” Then he looked at Larry, “You and I are going for a walk.” He waved him over and turned to walk towards the path the old man had apparently arrived from.\n&nbsp;\n\nThe walk was mostly uneventful. They had found the main dirt road fairly quickly and made a mark so they could find the trail back to their men. The most interesting event was when a group of humanoid lizards tried to attack him and Larry. They scattered really quickly at the sound of Jones’s Glock. Jones took the extra time to gather the three 9mm casings that were on the ground after the fight. It took them the better part of the afternoon to make it to the closest town. The two men approached the town looking surprised at how antiquated it looked.\n&nbsp;\nThey had been passing some small farms next to the road for a while before they got into what could be considered the town center. A clear grass covered square in the middle of the town one side had a large Forge going with a large burley man working the metals with various different hammers. On the side opposite the Forge was some sort of tavern, Depicted by a pictograph of two full glasses toasting something. Another small shop was located on one of the sides between the bar and the forge. And right beside them was a chapel of some sort, but no crosses of any kind.\n&nbsp;\n\nIt was time to find out where they were. Jones again took the lead, with Larry following behind him. They had discussed a truce until they got back then they could deal with the no doubt horrible repercussions for his family.\n&nbsp;\nThey both entered the bar. This wasn’t really a bar, more like a tavern. A cute red headed girl was walking from table to table. Every head in the tavern turned to look at them. It wasn’t fearful or respectful but curious. Kind of like the looks they had gotten on their way past farms and into town. Jones looked at them carefully in return and noticed that their clothing looked almost like something out of an Amish settlement. He thought back to the show he had watched about the Amish, It was something called breaking the Amish. He shook his head and looked around waiting till the cute red headed girl came to great them.\n&nbsp;\n\n“Welcom to the cherful dink” she said clipping her words off in odd locations. \n&nbsp;\n\nJones pulled out his money clip with the folded up hundred dollar billsand spoke to her, “I’d like some information, two meals and a private room to eat.” Then he pulled out one of the bills and handed it to her. \n&nbsp;\n\n“Wat iz this?” She said confusion spread across her face as she examined the hundred dollar bill. \n&nbsp;\n\nJones Frowned at her response, “is something wrong with my money?” he asked in barely controlled annoyance.\n&nbsp;\n\n“We acpt coins, Not whataver this is.” She said lifting the American currency up. \n&nbsp;\n\nJones nodded his head before reaching over to take the money back. Turning and walking out of the tavern, followed by Larry. \n", "One fine morning, the people of Nhek came to me and said, \"Our king is a thief.\"\n\nTo that, I laughed and said, \"Aren't they all?\"\n\n\"He levies heavy taxes against us, and even that is not enough for his greedy hands,\" they replied. \"At night, he sends his men to our doors and demands our valuables. He takes until we have nothing valuable left, and then he takes our women and children to his harem. Our men are forced to work hard labor in the fields and in the mines.\"\n\n\"And what do you want me to do for you?\" I asked them.\n\n\"We do not know what you do,\" they answered, \"only that those who say your name are not touched by the king's people. And we know that those that say your name without having right to are dealt with even worsely by the king's people. So we ask for the right to use your name, so that the king's greed may spare us.\"\n\n\"I will do even better than that,\" I told them. \"Take this letter to your king, requesting his presence immediately.\"\n\nAnd they marveled amongst themselves, saying, \"Who is this man that he can summon kings?\" \n\nThen they said, \"We beg your mercy, but we cannot take this letter to the king, for then he will know we have told against him, and he will surely slay us.\"\n\nSo I sent one of my men with the letter to the King of Nhek, and in short time, he appeared in my court, and bowed low before me.\n\n\"Hezariah,\" I addressed him. \"The people of your court have accused you of a great crime. A crime of theft so severe they have asked for my protection. If I have done greater evil than you, and your people still come to me with complaints of your wickedness, what does that say of you?\"\n\nAnd he began to weep and curse the day he was born, tearing his clothes as he threw himself to the floor.\n\n\"I am not upset that you have stolen from your people,\" I said to him. \"I am upset that you have not shared what you have stolen with me. Therefore, you have stolen from me as well.\"\n\nI called for a sword, and one was brought for me. \n\n\"If a hand causes you to sin, then to reach the Kingdom of Heaven, is that hand not to be cut off and thrown to the stray dogs to prevent that men from being consumed by greed?\" \n\nTo this, the king began to call loudly, and beg, \"Please! Let me be consumed by greed, but let not my hand be taken!\" \n\n\"You are sinner with a deceitful heart. You do not know what you want. But I know what is best for you.\"\n\nMy soldiers seized him on each side. His hand was forced out in front of him and cut it off.\n\n\"Now you are pure,\" I declared. \"Next time you steal, remember with whom you must share it with. Now go! and sin no more, brother.\"\n\nAs the king was taken from the court, a boy appeared suddenly and cried out: \"Father!\" He attempted to push through, but the soldiers would not allow him to reach the king.\n\nWith venom in his eyes, he fixed on me and the people of Nhek. \"I swear,\" he declared, \"that you will all pay for this.\" \n\nAnd just as suddenly as he appeared, he disappeared before our eyes.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n" ]	3
	[WP] You are given an egg that looks like it was decorated by someone really obsessed with glitter. You put it down near a warm stove without really thinking, and now it's starting to hatch.	[ "ding dong\nI wake up from my nap not quite sure if the doorbell was in my dream or not. I sit up wiping the off the drool from my face and rubbing my eyes waiting for them to readjust to my surroundings. \nding dong\nding dong\nding dong\n\"I got it, I'm coming, I'm coming \" I yell as I slowly get off the couch. \nI slowly get my feet back as I make my way to the door and open it. \nI open the door to find a young man in a brown package delivery uniform and a wooden box on my door mat. \n\"Can I help you?\" I ask. \n\"Package for a Mr. Perkins\" he says. \n\"That's me. Who is it from?\" I yawn answer. \n\"No clue. Sign here please\" he tells me as he pulls out a clipboard. \nI sign and pull the box in. I read the label and it says from glitter co. I exhale and say, \"what did the wife buy online this time?\"\nI open the box and find what appears to be a very large pink and purple sparkling egg that's laying in what looks like straw. I reach in a pick it up and it's what I expect... Glitter. The egg is covered In it and it's falling everywhere. I hate glitter and she know that. This is going to get everywhere. I look at it more and notice it got some weight to it and there appears to have something sloshing inside of it. I swear is there's more glitter I'm going to be pissed. Why does she waste our money on this crap. First it was a life size pink poodle statue. Then it was the purple gnomes. Now it's this. She's lucky she's cute. I laugh to myself as I remember all my dumb purchases I bought too. Oh well at least is only bowling ball size.\nI exhale and pull the straw out and to find a place for it. The only place I can find is next to the stove which is convenient because I'm starving and it's lunchtime. I look at the egg and think, \"too bad it's fake because that would make a mean omelette.\"\nI settle on left over soup. I grab a pot and on goes the soup. I turn it on high and wait. \nA few minutes pass when all of a sudden the egg moves. It moved. And no I know I'm not crazy because there is glitter all around it. I watch and nothing happens. Minutes fly by and all I'm thinking is it did move... right? When I start to doubt myself, I shakes again. I quickly run to the knife block and grab for a knife. I pull one and quickly and stair at the egg. I look at my knife and i see that I grab the pairing knife. The smallest knife I have. I turn to grab a bigger one when the egg cracks. \nI don't remember what happened next but I didn't know that I could jump over the bar that fast. But here I am, slowly looking over at the egg to see what happening. It's cracked even more from the top to the bottom. I raise more to get a better view when boom a tiny horn shoots out. \nI scream and drop. I think to myself what the hell did that woman buy. So I'm there on the other side of the bar shaking like a leaf when I hear the thing crack apart and what I hear to be a horse. \nA horse. Now I'm definitely gone crazy. How can a glitter egg that my wife ordered online give birth to a horse with a horn. Horse are live birth I tell myself. Now I'm laughing like a maniac. This isn't real. This is. Prank. She got me good with this one. I'll have to find out where she got this so I can get her back. \nThat's what I though. That was until I hear a wet thump on the ground and hoofs clopping towards me. \nI grip the knife in fright waiting to see what comes around. Clop Clop Clop \nI hold my breath. Clop Clop Clop. \nI start to awkwardly butt scoot backwards to get away. Clop Clop Clop. \nIt pokes its head around the corner and I scream. It's a girly scream that I have no clue where it comes from. I look at the creature and it's a Pegasus. A freaking, soaking in glitter egg juice, tiny adorable horned, with tiny wings, Pegasus. And my first thought was, \"I called it. It egg was filled with glitter. " ]	1
	[WP]A serial killer wakes up to find himself strapped to an operating table. A well groomed man speaks from the shadows, “I’m your biggest fan.”	[ "This is my first post, be gentile!\n\nMy eyes are slow to open. It’s cold and dark, the circular light swinging in the stale air with a cool breeze. I try to sit up but I hear the sound of the strap get tighter. The more I move my hands the tighter it gets.\n\n\n“Hello? Is anyone there? What the fuck is going on?” Three lights engage and the sound of the electricity powering them echoes throughout the room. “Remember Alyssa? The way you cut each of her fingers off at a different angle? The way she screamed and pleaded to you? The sound of Jons fingernails ripping off, the way Don’s kneecaps broke as you took a hammer to them? I can hear their voice, but I can’t see them. “Who the fuck are you, let me out of here! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I pleaded. A face began to take shape as they stepped out of the shadows, our eyes met. A well-groomed man, clean shaven in an expensive looking suit began to smile, awkwardly. He raised his left hand and pointed at me. His hands were shaking, he was nervous and took a deep breath and he said “I’m your biggest fan, Daniel, or should I say Colin?” My body felt like it had gone into a state of paralysis. \n" ]	1
	[WP] Spells must be cast on an empty stomach. The longer it's been since the mage has eaten, the more powerful the magic.	[ "I've read of times when Hunger Strikes were a form of non-violent protest. The idea was that someone would deprive themselves of sustenance to draw attention to an important issue. Others saw a spiritual side to it, trying to control their desires and impulses to focus on prayer. Not many people today know this history, such strange concepts they seem now, as hunger is so well known to be our greatest source of strength. Yet I've found them intriguing in their ironic, if not misguided, ways. I've even taken to calling myself after one of the greats of their time: Ghandi. \n\nIt is true that some of the more zealous practitioners today have pushed past the brink of return, strength becoming weakness in a flash. It is a delicate skill which takes years of practice. But, as with all things, diligence leads to skill, skill leads to power, and power leads to victory, as the saying goes.\n\nMy given name was Bystrum Lavensod, of Old Paree. I was one of just a few classmates that were identified by the Council as having Potential. I was carried off to a different land, without even a chance to say goodbye to my family, my friedns, the life I knew. Instead I knew hunger, hours then days at a time, followed by spells of healing, enchanting, but mostly destruction.\n\nMost of my hunger days, preparing for the next lesson, I spent wandering the streets walled in by derelict, crumbling buildings long abandoned after the Great War. When I was younger I discovered an old library which had not been too greatly damaged. So I fed my mind while I starved my stomach, gaining strength from both. This was where I leaned about Ghandi.\n\nOf course now Hunger Strikes have a different meaning than they did in their formative age. While they once had power through emotion and empathy, the discovery of magic through hunger sent a wave of excitement then fear as those with overpowered those without. A Hunger Strike was the coalescance of several powerful mages raining down mighty forces which little could withstand. The power was awesome, but I hated it. Something inside me pushed me forward, perhaps just my instinct to survive. But I feel these days that there is a power for peace I have yet to discover. ", "There was a new kid in class, so of course he was staring at her. She’d long since gotten past the embarrassment of Kindergarten, when she’d tried to hide the ports that poured nutrition directly into her veins. They were in seventh grade now, and skinny Kelsey Rodriguez with the stomach disease was just one of the many less-than-perfect kids in town. Sammy had chicken pox scars on her arms because her parents had refused to vaccinate her. Gabi could do geometry in her head but flipped letters around and struggled to write. And Kelsey couldn’t eat. They were all pretty smart kids (there wasn’t much work in Los Alamos for people’s parents who weren’t smart), and they quickly figured out she was otherwise normal. They all lived in the same shoebox-shaped double houses, held bonfires in the same mountains, listened to the same music on the radio.\n\nExcept they were wrong about Kelsey.\n\nAs far as she could tell, she was the only one of her classmates that actually had a job at the lab too, although she wasn’t sure that she’d necessarily know. They were used to their folks’ vaguely-worded job descriptions (“Oh, what does your mom do?” “You know, engineering stuff.”) that shouted their security clearances at top volume. But her own work fell under the more deceptive wording of “medical appointments.” Maybe Gabi’s twice-weekly tutoring sessions took place at the National Laboratory surrounded by cameras and sensors too. But she was pretty sure that Gabi couldn’t do what she could.\n\nShe got stronger every year. They’d be moving her to a bigger lab soon, or at least a stronger one. Last week she’d almost shaken loose the door.\n\nKelsey doodled in her social studies notebook, trying to ignore the new boy’s obvious curiosity. Hope you’re enjoying the freak show now, she thought,* because you’re going to be pretty darn bored once we get acquainted.* The boy laughed a little, apparently at something their teacher had said. Kelsey sighed and turned her attention back to the explanation of their homework.\n\nWhen the bell rang, she ignored him pointedly as she grabbed her books and walked towards the science wing. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to get the message. \n\n“Hey.”\n\nShe kept walking.\n\n“Hey, Kelsey, I’m Eric. I just moved here. How’s it going?”\n\n“It’s fine.” It WAS fine. Now it’s just annoying.\n\n“Hey, no need to be rude,” he said. “I just want to talk.”\n\n“I said it’s fine. You’re the rude one here.”\n\n“I’m not trying to be annoying.”\n\n“Well, you’re succeeding anyway.” You self-absorbed shit.\n\n“Huh. I didn’t picture you for a potty mouth.”\n\nKelsey opened up her mouth to shoot back a scathing response, when she realized what had just happened. “I—” she stopped walking. “I didn’t say anything bad.”\n\n“I know. I just … I wanted to talk to you, because we have the same … part time job.”\n\nKelsey shook her head. \n\n“I mean, I’m just someone they picked up out of nowhere. I’m from Belen. Just a blip. Good for studying stuff that pops out of a natural environment. But you … you’ve been at this your whole life. I think it’s awful, what they’ve done. I can’t believe they don’t even feed you.”\n\nKelsey’s face felt full of static, and her heart was racing. “If you know so much about me, you’ll know that I have a stomach disorder. They figured out how to save me, when I was just a baby. I would have died. And I eat just fine.” She gestured to the primary port. It’s not like she was starving. Not anymore.\n\n“Sure. You’re not starving, I get that. And I fast for strength tests too. We all get stronger the longer we’ve been without food. But the way they crashed your system so that you’d be fasting perpetually? That just seems wrong to me.”\n\nThey’d stopped walking, and the stream of students parted around them and flowed down the hall into their classrooms.\n\n“So what do you want, Eric?” You’re wrong about me. And you’re wrong about my job. So if you don’t want to be pals and chat about how interesting work is, what are you doing here?\n\n“I thought you might be interested in a ... change of scenery.”\n\nKelsey stared at him, rooted to the spot. Then the bell rang, letting the world know they were both late for class. She hadn’t even noticed the hall emptying out.\n\nKelsey turned on her heel and stalked away towards her class. “Go away, Eric. You’re a jerk and an idiot.” \n\nBut she thought: I’ll think about it. We'll talk. But don’t you DARE go messing around with my life without asking me first.\n\nEric smiled and walked to his own class. It was a start. His employer was going to be very pleased.\n", "She quietly crosses the inn's common room wrapped in a heavy dark cloak. I could tell she is a powerful mage, my stomach growling slightly as I passively scan her. Nothing about her was familiar to me though. I press myself further back into the corner to avoid notice.\n\nI watch her speak to the bartender, unseen power radiating from her. She puts a solitary copper coin on the counter and receives a small biscuit in return. I can see her wrist bones outlined in her pale skin as she picks up the meagre piece of food. She was a serious mage, one not easily given in to temptation.\n\nMy stomach growls again but I know that I can't sate my hunger until the morning. The full moon is soon and I have to stay focused to have enough power for midnight. Many other mages will also be casting this evening, and I wanted to avoid as much notice as possible. The common room of an inn was the last place a fellow mage would come, the smells too tempting for many of them. The hunters, particularly busy on a night portentous as this one, would also not venture in, too many people for too little result.\n\nI peer over my mug of water at her as she nibbles delicately on the hard biscuit. I see that she's measuring out the exact amount of food that will keep her going without spoiling her power. I chose to fast since yesterday and sip on water to control the hunger. She finishes only half the biscuit, I assume that's all she needs for now. She wraps the rest in a cloth and puts it in her pocket, then draws out a book.\n\nNow's my chance. It will only take a little power, the food she just consumed will dull her sense. I secretly channel a wind spell under the table, willing the delicious smell of the kitchen to drift over to her side of the room. I chose this table simply because it was where the smell was strongest, it would harden my resolve. She chose the other side, away from the smells that would cause temptation.\n\nIt only took a minute before she looked up from her book. She swallows hard. Her hand draws out the other half of the biscuit. There she stared at it for a while, trying to determine what harm could come from a little bit more. As she deliberates I cast the spell again. Her eyes widen as the smell becomes stronger. Suddenly she throws her biscuit across the room in disgust, angrily looking around to find the perpetrator of the situation. Damn. She figured it out and if it wasn't for the food in her stomach right now, she would have been able to find my aura even among all of the other patrons.\n\nI quickly cast a veiling spell masking my image to look like the wall behind, my stomach turning to knots. She spots my corner but to her eyes I am gone. A wry smile appears on her lips as she stows her book and stands up. I could not tell if she had spotted me or not. She walks to the bartender and converses with him, coin and key exchanging hands, then she heads upstairs to a rented room.\n\nI let out a sigh of relief. It was too close to the completion of my plan. I pull out my book of notes and continue writing.\n\nTen minutes later, a large platter of food is dumped onto the table in front of me. Roasted meats still steaming, pies just out of the oven, honeyed pastries glistening with deliciousness.\n\nThat witch.", "It started with a single day. I had refused to eat the dinner. I thought it was yucky. The next morning I once again refused to eat. Until at the end of the day. All by myself a little flame ignite in my hands at will. The power was awesome in the literal sense of the word.\n\nIt pulled me in. But eventually mortal needs came in. I ate. And it all vanished. It wasn't until almost a year later that I gathered enough energy to do anything. It was when we were starving.\n\nMy father had made deals with the wrong people, and we had found ourselves without an income. So I wished for what I thought would make it all better; money. It only succeeded in getting them thrown in jail for my crime, and me getting sent to the orphanage.\n\nIt was probably the best thing they could've done. The burning headaches kept me from keeping it for long. The aching hunger had been easily ignored, and the headaches masked them. However, the pain of the headaches made it too hard.\n\nThat's what the orphanage helped with. Pure torture. Beatings from other boys, and ridicule, until I could bear the pain for a month. For food itself didn't matter, only your will. I didn't know what magic kept me from perishing, and frankly I didn't.\n\nAll I could feel was power. And at the end of the month, the whole orphanage just disappeared. Soon enough I was able to do it consistently enough that I just conjured a cloak. Something meant to be impossible.\n\nThat's when the months started to creep up to years. Only broken when the pain started to ƀɍɇȺꝁ my mind. Then a decade. I was gaining a reputation. A gold cloak draped over my shoulders. Then a simple accident. And I was gone. At least in physical form.", "I can't remember the last time I tasted food. I think it must have been a year or so. Now, I'm not one of those power-hungry jerks that starve themselves to harness the Spells. Only stupid fools would think a fireball is cooler than a all-you-can-eat buffet. Plus, the government actually forces people to eat, so that they cannot possess powers beyond measure. So, starving to store power for a powerful Spell is actually not that easy to do as what most people think. That does not stop them from trying though. One time, a crazed maniac unleashed a storm that did not stop for months. Another unleashed a family of flying serpents onto the city. Now, you may be wondering as to who I am or as to what is the reason why I'm starving. You see, I'm just a normal person, living a totally normal life. Unfortunately, the Corporation had other plans for me. They plan to build a better world, free from wars and fights. A united world where everyone likes each other. And so they plan on unleashing a phenomenon that can guarantee this plan of theirs. Using me, they plan on unleashing The Great Flood.", "Onsis sat alone and silent in the lotus position: unmoving, unwavering, and defiant. The only noise to be heard in the simple room she lived within was the sound of flickering flames. Torches hung on the wet, stone walls causing shadows to flicker incessantly. Onsis' plain gray robes curled around and hid a deeply emaciated body underneath. The signs of her bodily distress were only apparent in her gaunt, angular face and withering, white hair. This was the price of powerful magic, and not many were able to endure the extreme measures needed to manifest it. Apprentices darted in and out to keep her from withering away completely, but otherwise she meditated alone.\n\nShe had often told apprentice magi, \"The greatest weapon a mage possesses is their mind. A strong mind can overcome all obstacles.\" Now she was being led to practice her teachings to the extreme. The days she had gone without eating piled up fast and she dared not count them. Every animal instinct was at war within her, waiting to destroy her will at a moments notice. At this point she could barely walk. Her delicate, feeble legs shook with every step. Despite all appearances, Onsis' mind was unyielding. Her suffering had purpose. Not the pursuit of power itself, but the protection of others.\n\nStacks of grimoires were piled around her, open to various pages on theoretical magic, magic which had not been attempted in fear of what it might incur. The options Onsis and her mages had were numbered, and this was the last resort. Greater magic always called for a higher cost, and Onsis' fear was that the cost of this spell would outweigh success.\n\nA necromage of the lower valleys had finally snapped, and it seemed as though only Onsis would be able to stop their rampage. A foolish, young necromage had taught an undead pawn how to harness magic. It was forbidden for obvious reasons. The undead had an unsatiable hunger, which could create devastating magic. And now that once weak, undead pawn was approaching Onsis, and the rest of those in the Fold, as a threat to not be taken lightly. It had resurrected all those along the way, carving deep wounds into the ground. The only hope was for Onsis, on the verge of death, to unleash an equally overwhelming purification spell. However, with the uncertain nature of magic, it was just as likely that Onsis could destroy all she was trying to save.\n\nOnsis gathered her strength, and gazed through her mind's eye at the approaching onslaught. She perceived the dark veil rolling in, and could do nothing but wait for death to come.", "I gaze at the gilded book before me, the page filled with illustration after illustration of gory death - warnings to us all. Strong magic is a question of purity. An impure mind is known to distort magic - many a mage has ended up missing a limb as result of an errant lustful or jealous thought - but that is nothing compared to what an impure body will do. There is no coming back from that. \n\nWhen magic had been discovered it was fickle and weak - useful only for unpredictable parlour tricks. At first, researchers moved in the wrong direction entirely. They feasted before practising magic - piling carb after carb into their bodies in the hopes that the thing that gave them nourishment would nourish their magic as well. It did not, to put it lightly. Most had been made so impure by the outside elements in their bodies that they didn’t manage to produce any magic at all. Others were not so lucky. Those who somehow called up magic while tainted with the impurity of food were destroyed. \n\nMy knight, Keira, walks into the living room we share - one look at the weaponry strapped to her hips and I know where she’s been.\n\n“How was the shooting range?” She grunts in response.\n\n“Same - the targets are too slow and the instructors are worse.” \n\n“Hah, they’re too slow or you’re too fast?” That earns me a half smile and a shake of her head as she moves into the kitchen.\n\nKeira eats food, and lots of it. Although there is almost nothing I can’t do with my magic, there is still a use for brute strength and physical skills. In terms of building up good ol’ muscle, for some reason magic has nothing on the human diet. I’ve experimented with different amounts of nutrients over the years - more protein, more carbs, more everything - but I’ve never come anywhere near the sheer muscle Keira is somehow able to maintain. I provide our dear leaders with defensive and offensive magic, and should that fail for any reason then Keira is around to protect their investment - me.\n\nI am the first born of a group of children that we now call Purests. Like those who came after me, I have never tasted material nourishment. I was taken from my mother before I could so much as reach towards her breast and put under the watchful eye of the government’s mages. Wanting me untainted by any form of physical sustenance, they used their magic to nourish me and my compatriots until we were old enough to take over the process ourselves.\n\nI feel a mild humming behind me eyes and open my mind to my boss, Dave.\n\nYou have a mission tonight - meet at 10pm to be briefed. \n\nThe communication is over as soon as it’s begun. I float myself off of the couch and head to the kitchen to let Keira know.\n\n---\n\n\nI hear a scream choked off halfway through as Aaron combusts - I hope he didn’t take his knight Chris with him, but I don’t have time to check. I cry out as a coordinated effort by our opponents shakes the shield I’ve erected around Keira and I. She’s beside me and ready to fight, but there’s not much she can do unless I can break through the enemy shields.\n\nWe had intercepted coordinates where the rebels who opposed the restrictions our government used to keep us safe would be picking up weapons and supplies. The mission was a simple one for Aaron, Liv, and I - no engagement, we wait for the drop off and beat the rebels to the items. We should have been gone before anyone else even arrived, but as soon as we stepped into the parking lot we knew something was wrong. More than twenty written spells had been set off - not spells of protection, but of attack. Dozens of rebels had spilled from the trees and hiking paths surround the area, and with only basic magic shields engaged for the simple mission we’d been left rushing to fend off the fireballs, lightning strikes, and crushing forces with appropriate defences. Liv had vanished within the first thirty seconds, although I hadn’t seen the black clouds usually associated with a vanishing spells anywhere near her. Since then, Aaron and I had been hanging on as best we could. Now, it was just me.\n\nKeira screams into my right ear as she lets a handful of knives fly towards a group of rebels, “Let’s go! Alexis, we have to go NOW!\"\n\nThere’s nothing I’d like better right now, but with this many mages on the other side I can barely keep the rebel attacks at bay, much less whip up a two-person teleportation spell. Another multi- spell assault hits my shield and I feel rather than see a crack begin to form. Right on its tail, a mage teleports something oblong at me - I hope it’s nothing explosive as I deflect it to the left. A succession of attacks hits me and the last one makes it through - a weight hits my belly and I’m knocked back a metre.\n\nGazing up at the advancing rebels, my stomach feels leaden - I never knew fear could feel this physical.\n\nI reach for my magic but something stops me - it’s different… it feels wilder and almost hostile. With horror, I realize what they’ve done. I look in the direction I deflected the last spell and just about sob. The weight in my stomach wasn’t fear, but something much, much worse - bread.\n\nKeira’s back at my side, pulling at my arm. I can hear her voice, but I can't process the words. She has me halfway off the ground before I can tell her what they’ve done. \n\n“Keira, my stomach… They’ve done something, they’ve put something in it.” Her eyes are uncomprehending at first, but they widen as I point over my shoulder towards the deflected bread.\n\nAs she gapes at what they’ve done to me I see lightning flickering into being, controlled by a mage not five metres away.\n\nI could try to block it despite my impurity, but I think of the fire that surrounded Aaron and Chris - Keira might still make it out of this alive.\n\n“Run!” I yell at her. I start sprinting away myself to get her going, but we aren’t far before I feel the magic preparing to strike. I look at her face one more time and take in her green eyes and flushed cheeks. Gasping with the strain it takes to keep pace with her, I barely manage to get the words out.\n\n“Keira, you have to keep running! You have to tell them what’s happened!” She glares at me as best as she can while moving at such high speed.\n\n“What? What are you - just run!\"\n\nIt’s too late. As soon as I feel the magic coming towards us I turn to face it. I’m no fighter without my purity, but I can do one last trick.\n\nI hear Keira cry out as I throw myself into the lightning bolt - I hope she keeps running.\n", "Akiva sat alone and contemplated the well within him. It was so deep now he could hardly believe it. How long had it been? Two weeks? Three? The ocean of power now swirling within his void could not have been amassed in less time. He needed to remember how long it had been so he could record the wait that was required. If he waited a little while longer maybe he could hear it, instead of just feeling it. Oh, if only he could hear it. \n\n“Master,” came a voice, “There are visitors. They seek audience.” \n\nAkiva opened his eyes and saw one of the acolytes leaning through a cracked door. What was his name? Efrat? Ehud?\n\nHe began to raise himself, using the canes at either side of him for support, “I am coming,” Akiva responded, rasping, “What was your name again?” \n\n“Efraim, Master.” He responded, moving and bowing slightly as Akiva hobbled out of the door and into the sunlight hall. The acolyte handed him a clay cup of water and, with a shaky hand, Akiva drank deeply.\n“Mmm. Efraim, who are these visitors?” \n\n“Emissaries from the House Doron, Master.” \n\n“Emissaries. . .” Akiva muttered, “What sort of emissaries?”\n\n“I am afraid they did not state their business, Master. Only that they wished to speak with one of the esteemed masters of Temperance.” \n\n“Well of course,” he said, pausing his travel down the hall to add emphasis and also to rest, “But I asked what sort of emissaries they were. Not what they wanted.” \n\n“Oh, my apologies, Master,” Efraim said, with a bow, “They are half a dozen in number. Each wears the green half-cape of a Guardian, save for the one who wears the violet half-cape of an Arbiter.” \n\nAn arbiter? House Doron had already had two adepts in their services, surely they had not come for another. Or was that House Waliba? Or. . . He would need to check the registry. Couldn’t remember. Too lightheaded. \n\n“Efraim, I believe I can see to them on my own. If you would, inform Master Kalib to reference the obligation registry and bring his findings to the audience yard as quickly as he is able,” He paused, “And ask to look at House Doron’s family line.” \n\n“I will at once, Master.” \n\nAnd with that and another quick bow, he was away. Akiva remembered when he used to be able to move like that. Such a green thing. He must not have even been a week into his current fasting. But, at least there was someone who could still retrieve clean water. \n\nAkiva made his way through the halls slowly until he finally reached the open doorway leading to the audience yard. He rounded the corner and saw standing on the marble patio exactly what the acolyte had described. Six men, five wearing ring plate and the iron masks of Guardians, and another garbed in violet garments that still somehow found room to billow and swell around his portly frame. \n\nAkiva sat as gently as he could amongst the pillows atop the dais overlooking the yard and stood his canes on either side of him. \n\n“Speak.” He commanded, regaining his breath and wiping moisture from his eye. \n\nThe arbiter stepped forward and gave a sweeping, low bow, “Master of Temperance, my name is Arbiter Gili of House Doran. I am here to request the service of another one of your adepts in a very honorable and important matter.” \n\n“You already have two adepts, no?”\n\nThe man raised a tentative finger, “Ah, we do,” he began, “but, this matter is very, very important. My lord has lost hold of a valley to the south-east, one which his grandfather had won them long ago. If he does not retake it, it will be a shame upon him. Not only that, but all of the peasants who still live within the valley will have to farm and cultivate the land for the despicable Bokshuri.” \n\nThis man’s voice was high and annoying. Akiva felt the blood pumping hard in his ears and was having difficulty keeping his vision clear. He ran his mind along the edge of his void and felt strength flow into him. Once his eyes refocused he stared down at the violet Arbiter. \n\n“A lost patch of land is of no concern to us.”\n\nThe Arbiter seemed ever so slightly taken aback, but he hid it well, “Of course not, but House Doron has been a friend to you as you have been to us. We have gifted you many expensive additions to the house of your order and would be willing to gift you many more, if the valley is regained.” \n\nAkiva licked the inside of his cheeks. Not so dry now, “Your house already has its designated adept. Not only that but, if I recall correctly, you have another which you pleaded for, no?” \n\n“I. . . Yes, we do. But that was likewise for a good cause. The Ruby Coast is rife with serpents this season and we could not bear another ship lost. Those ships, which I respectfully remind you, brought you the marble that made this very yard upon which we stand.” \n\n“Is that so?”\n\n“It is, esteemed Master.” \n\nAkiva sat and considered a short moment, and as he did Master Kalib emerged from the archway behind him, walking tall and strong. No need to store power when your duty was as a librarian. He leaned over and whispered to Akiva the names of both adepts in Doron’s service. \n\n“And the lineage?” \n\n“A skipping stone,” Kalib responded, “Doron’s grandmother showed potential, but not he.” \n\nAkiva nodded and thanked him quietly before he departed from whence he came. \n\n“It seems that I was correct regarding the adepts,” Akiva said, “Not only that, but the second adept you took was far and away higher in their grasp of Temperance than would be required to navigate the Ruby Sea safely. So I see no need to gift you another mind that you might squander it on some little river valley.” \n\nHe stood, only needing one crutch this time, and began to leave. \n\n“But, esteemed Master, please, wait. Is there not anything we can offer to make you reconsider? My lord was explicit and it would be best not to displease him.” \n\nAkiva paused, “Explicit was he? Oh my, why did you not say so before.” \n\nHe turned and stared again, this time directly upon the eyes of the Arbiter, “What does he want with the valley?” \n“Only to alleviate the shame brought upon him and his house, and to alleviate the suffering of his people.” Answered the Arbiter. \n\nAkiva let his mind run along the void, and he let the Arbiter’s words hang in the air.\n \n“You disgrace yourself and the clay beneath your feet with you lies,” Akiva spat, a scowl creasing his elderly face, “State the truth of it, or I will cut this shame from your house myself.” \n\n“I-I-I beg forgiveness, highest and most esteemed Master of Temperance,” said the violet Arbiter, throwing himself down upon his hands and knees, head held low, “My lord has a son in the valley. He was captured and it is thought that he may’ve helped the Bokshuri take it. Please, I ask your forgiveness eightfold. If we do not return with something though I fear I will be imprisoned and you will only have to deal with another in my place.” \n\nAkiva considered this. It would become rather annoying to have to speak with Arbiter after Arbiter on the same topic. Even to have to ignore them willfully could be irksome. And this was a deeply shameful subject for a house lord to have to contend with. Perhaps there was something to be gained. \n\n“Lord Doron has two children, does he not?” \n\nThe Arbiter kept his head down, but his voice shook with worry over the question, “Yes, his son, Ofir, and his daughter, Noa. Lady Doron is expecting another during the raining season.” \n\nAkiva smiled and placed his free hand over the one grasping his cane, “Then an agreement can be met. Raise yourself.” \n\nThe Arbiter stood and one of his Guardians helped to pat the dirt from his purple robes. \n\n“In exchange for the help of our order his daughter will join us and study Temperance.” \n\n“I. . . This is. . .” \n\n“Is this not fair?”\n\n“No no, it is quite fair. I just. . . I do not know if my lord will see it that way.” \n\nAkiva considered, “Then I will go myself and retake the valley within a week. That is more than enough for Doron, I believe.” \n\n“You? As in, you yourself?” \n\n“I do not stutter.” It had been too long since he’d tapped his well, anyway. A bit of practice would do him well.\n\n“No, no, no. Far from it,” the Arbiter gave another bow, “I expect my master will be pleased with your terms. I apologize many times again for the imposition we have put you in and I expect that Lady Noa will be a fine pupil.”\n \n“I expect she shall as well. Now, away.” \n\nAnd with that the Arbiter and his Guardians departed and Akiva returned to his chamber to sit and contemplate. He wondered what he would make of Noa. It was not often that the gift of Temperance was found in noble blood. They often lacked the prowess to overcome the initial hurtles and achieve connection to their void. Either way, she would learn the art and, with time, could even become a master herself. \n\nHe would need to leave soon. But for now, he lost himself again in his well. \n", "It was a chilly Saturday. At least I think it was Saturday. It is entirely possible that I missed a day on my calendar. Time seems to be irrelevant when you're humanity's most powerful sorcerer and on a distant planet. I'm not sure which is more important to the passage of time. \n\n\nPeople have gone through countless attempts at not eating for a long time, but they always succumbed after being able to do little more than throw a fastball with their spells. Countless papers have been written about sorcery. The specifics behind it were not fully understood, and of course the physics was way over our heads. All we knew was that it grew more powerful with hunger.\n\nI thought a little bit differently. I was up all night and day for several days doing some university homework and was so distracted that I almost did not notice the searing hunger pangs. Unfortunately, the dining hall is a long hike from the library in which I was currently fortified. So, I did what any desperate guy would do; on the brink of starvation, with barely enough energy to keep my eyes open, I looked at the librarian and transferred her stomach contents to mine. I felt very uneasy, but not hungry. She immediately turned and took a massive bite from an apple, muttering about how she really didn't need the calories but she was starving. Proud of my laziness, I kept working.\n\nUsing my newfound technique, I had not eaten in several weeks and I could feel the power coursing through my veins. I firmly believed I was the most powerful mage in the world. Eventually, I decided to cut out the middleman and try something. I took a piece of bread and willed the atoms themselves to transform into glucose and diffuse into my bloodstream. It was definitely not healthy, but it gave me more than sufficient energy. Besides, I found many potential pathogens tended to die upon contact with my magic-infused immune system. Every part of me felt stronger, as if a portion of my magical energy went to keeping me in optimal health.\n\nNaturally, word got around when I would use it to be the ultimate bum, launching pencils from across the room when mine broke, condensing atmospheric water to drink, and most of all, being very careful not to ingest any solids through my mouth. \n\n\nThis went one for several years, with simple tasks becoming increasingly easy. At this point, I was no longer ever hungry, as many of my basic needs were covered by my subconscious. I filled my body with nutrients as naturally as most humans breathed. Unfortunately for humanity, I am one selfish son of a gun and I liked the idea of nobody coming close to my power.\n\nTurns out, a person who is his own life support is a huge asset to space exploration. I was approached by a NASA rep who told me that when they heard of my abilities, they had to come meet me and see if it was the real deal. Of course I was. So they offered me a permanent break from the bore of life on Earth and built a special capsule containing only some oxygen to start with and osmium. By this point, they figured I had the energy to transmute matter on an atomic scale, so the density would be the most important part. Thus began my training. I learned to create thrust through spells (turns out, a magician powerful enough to precisely move subatomic particles can create a pretty high ISP) and how to make oxygen, water, and everything else I would need. I even learned to terraform planets by transforming a small mass of the surface to gaseous particles similar to Earth's atmosphere, with an excess of water so that there would be a healthy amount of rain to get water for less powerful humans. In exchange for them taking me to Mars (and perhaps further if the need surfaced), I kept several people fed for three weeks until they mastered the art of staying nourished without eating. Once that was possible, they loaded me in my own personal capsule completely separate from the massive crew quarters the other colonists were settled in. I topped off their supplies pretty often at first, but eventually several learned to do it themselves.\n\nMonths into the journey, with the colonists and myself more powerful than any human before us, we arrived at the red planet. The craft indicated we should prepare for the landing, but the practically infinite thrust provided by the 100+ superhumans on board and our ability to move blood through our bodies regardless of the massive G-Forces made this irrelevant. We touched down after an uncomfortable but easily bearable descent. Several of us got out, terraforming the planet very quickly. We were reminded by mission control to put an excess of carbon dioxide and water to ensure there was enough rain to sustain Earth-like life and a comfortable climate. Just when one of my fellow Martians was buzzing in to tell them that we were safe, several of the more powerful of us realized that dependency on Earth was unnecessary. We broke the communications and I, as the most powerful, began constructing a new civilization." ]	9

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