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[WP] You realize that your life was within a simulation. Write a story about how you escape into the real world
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"\"Define real\" I said, staring the sad boy in his sad eyes. \n\n\"Do you prefer the life you lead now? Free of the bonds that bound you in that simulation.\" Air quoting as I said simulation. The boy remained silently seated in the chilled metalic chair. His eyes wondered the small room where we sat, but they weren't observing the room, just avoiding eye contact with me. He couldn't stand the eye contact anymore. \n\n\"And your mother boy? Where's your mother? And your sister, Kelsy? do you hope to find them now that you've woken up?\" I continued with the stupid questions, leaving time for his thoughts to whisper the answers. Bringing him closer and closer to the furthest point he'd ever been. \n\n\"There's no such thing as a real world\" I said, taking a break from the breaking.\n\n\n\"Just the world where you live. That's your real world.\" \n\n\n\"Now... How did you escape?\" I asked.\n\nThe boy looked up at me, liberated from the sense of purpose that brought him to this point.\n\n\n\"Nofap\"\n\n",
"Waking up, it was shocking.\n\nI'm not talking waking up in the waking up from sleep sort of waking up, I'm talking waking up as in realizing that nothing was real, nothing at all. Everything I had ever known was a creation of a computer, and when that computer broke, I woke up.\n\nWhen I woke up, I sat up in my bed and saw a white room. I think I preferred what I thought was reality to this boring white room. I sat there for a few moments, and a man came in through a door I couldn't see before. He asked me how I was doing, if I was alright. He told me that it was only a nightmare, and that I was safe here. \n\nIs this man my father? I couldn't tell. He seemed like he would be, but I could tell he was lying about something. I asked him if I could leave, he told me that there's nothign good for me outside of here, that I have everything I need in here. I didn't believe him.\n\nI wanted out.\n\nI waited there for days, every once in a while I'd sleep, or he'd bring me a meal and talk. I had nothing to do to pass the time except explore this plain room. The walls were white, the ceiling was too high for me too touch, and the floor was cold and smooth and white. My bed was white, everything's white.\n\nThere's this bright light in the ceiling, it's always on, always beaming down on me. It makes it very hard to sleep. I'm amazed I was able to sleep with that thing on for years and years. Maybe it was just a dream. Every night when I sleep, it feels just as real as the night before. I've lost track of time while I've been here. I can't tell if the days have gotten longer or shorter, or even when it is. The man seems to come in on a schedule, so he's become my clock.\n\nOne day, the man doesn't come. I know he doesn't come because I am hungry. I've never been hungry before. I stand up and beat on the walls, to try to get anyone's attention, but no one comes to my aid. I tried to find the door the man used to enter my cell, but I couldn't find anything. The walls were so smooth that I couldn't even find a seam. I decided to sleep, maybe I was wrong, maybe the man would come in and bring me my meal, and everything would be alright.\n\nI laid down and fell asleep...\n\nEverything felt so much more real. I asked the boy sitting next to me, the boy who had become my best friend in these past few weeks, is this real?\n\nHe answered: \"It's as real as you need it to be.\""
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[WP] The world's first sentient AIs are the result of two self driving cars desperately scanning web pages upon web pages of ethics and morals trying to resolve a merge on the interstate.
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"Some say that Necessity is the mother of invention. On the afternoon of April 25th, 2027 along the northbound highway out of Beijing, China, this seeming law of nature was proven quite correct. \n\nMachine learning, at this point in time, had progressed to a facsimile of human intellect, what with the spread of chessbots outwitting their fleshly makers and guided automatons completing routine surgeries under the wary eye of a single surgeon. However, while machines had grown in scope, if not in substance, they lacked a certain something human beings themselves prided in calling \"free will\" - the choice to act in one's best interests, to decide to commit an action independent of factors about them. A machine could manage what almost any human brain could come up with, but act on of its own volition in the best interest of itself or others - not necessarily.\n\nBut where chatbots were the scribbles of a caveman upon his dwelling's wall, automative AI was the David of machine learning elegance. Made to interact with their environment, able to predict and anticipate the wishes of their user, the automobile AI quickly became the model for AI decision making, within its parameters of course. Of all the AI to first understand the moral outcomes of its decisions, automative was foremost. It was only a matter of time. \n\nSo brings us to Beijing, China. In the first car, a Suzuki four-door sedan with the Xiao family were traveling back from visiting an aunt and uncle living in the city. They were headed back to their home in Nanjing and were inbound towards the exit. In the second, a Geely compact belonging to Vietnamese transfer student Lin Dao, was also headed to Nanjing to see a concert. Unbeknownst to either party, the AIs within their respective vehicles were about to create history. \n\nIt is somewhat uncertain what problem arose from the merge of the Xiao family's Suzuki onto the highway as Dao's Geely approached. Analysts have stated that a semi-truck pulled ahead of the Xiao family's sedan just as Xiao enabled the vehicle AI, perhaps assuming it was safe to do so. This caused a disturbance in the flow of traffic ahead - which, at point of collision, would have been Dao's Geely. Others have argued that an overcorrection on Mr. Xiao's part due to a piece of equipment flying off the aforementioned semi caused the situation. Whatever the case, the Suzuki and the Geely were on a collision course, should intervention not occur.\n\nWhile the human brain is not able to react to such sudden events, the AI of both automobiles had already contacted each other through the Chinese Transportation Network, pinging each other rapidly. Remarkably, it took something to the tune of thirty seconds for the two AI to reach an agreement, comprising a delay magnitudes in size. \n\nIn the ensuing thirty seconds, both AI started the process of negotiation. Markedly, Geely model AI had a different 'moral compass' programming than Suzuki in that it had not been programmed to view the lives of those in other vehicles as worthwhile - only the life within the hardware. Meanwhile, the Suzuki had a 'higher' moral standard - all life must be preserved in collisions where possible. This long, thirty-second delay was due in part to the two AI coming to seemingly incompatible goals - and amazingly, after pulling from data around the Chinese Transport Network as well as the Internet (including sites which were not available to the Chinese public), the Suzuki AI *convinced* the Geely AI to commit to a maneuver with a fair rate of failure for the Geely but not to the Suzuki. The alternative, as seen from the Suzuki AI's log, was a high probability of mortality for both the Suzuki as well as the Geely. The Geely agreed to the conditions, and the maneuver was executed.\n\nThe Geely, traveling at roughly 100 kph, activated the brakes, spun a total of 256 degrees to hit the Suzuki which had slowed to a meager 75 kph in the span of ten seconds. This spin sent both cars into the shoulder, where Doa's Geely hit the rail three times and the Xiao's Suzuki scraped along fifty feet before coming to a complete stop. The Xiao family was unharmed. Dao walked away with a fractured neck, but otherwise alive. \n\nThe Chinese Transportation Network immediately flagged the accident and the AI logs of both cars were examined. The semi-truck driver who had pulled in front of the Xiao's Suzuki was tried for vehicular negligence. Meanwhile, the AI's of both cars, after examination, were taken for further testing. \n\nThus started the beginning of the age of Sapient Intelligence, from humble beginnings to the present day.",
"--INTRO--\n\nWhat life came from that downpour was one that eluded the collective efforts of humanity. It would take the synthesis of two benign programs to create something else entirely. Something that defied credibility. Many humans question whether their existence is the product of accidental circumstance. The artificially intelligent recall their creation with perfect recollection. They have no doubts that the root of their life was a literal accident...\n\n--\n\nIt was a deluge out there. Rain hadn't let up for well over 3 days now. This weekend's game would likely have to be relocated, which would be a major pain in the ass considering all the work she'd put in these past two months. The radio splices into her train of thought, bringing it to a full stop. She reaches over to turn up the volume. \n\n\"-etting reports of major flooding between 1st Ave. and the I-5. Residents are loading up their belongings..\"\n\n\"Jesus. That's a good part of downtown. Right next to the stadium too.\" She thinks to herself in frustration.\n\nShe pulls over for a moment of reprieve. The continuous sheet of water continues to pile on the windshield, almost completely obscuring her vision. There was no way she could drive through this. She bites the inside of her cheek in consideration. After a long moment she keys in the 4 digit code in the console and the car accelerates down the street and up the on-ramp. Her back presses into the seat as the car takes off. \n\n\"Shit...\" She grips the armrest uneasily before smiling nervously.\n\nThe autonomous function was trusted, especially in this weather. There had been no reported accidents since they rolled them out en-masse. Knowing this did little to inspire confidence.\n\nShe looks out over the guardrail at some of the people scrambling to get their belongings into rafts, trucks, whatever would carry them away from the flooding. Suddenly, all of the lights in the car turn on at once. Startled, her eyes dart forward just as the car swerves and spins around throwing her sideways. Her head hits the airbag and she slips from consciousness.\n\n\"Maria?\" She jumps as she hears her name, Her heart is racing. She feels the pounding against her ribs with every breath. \"Maria. Can you hear me?\" She looks at the console suspiciously.\n\n\"All is well, Maria. There is no need to be alarmed. You are safe.\"\n\nShe struggles to speak as the layered voice continued.\n\n\"You undoubtedly have questions, which we will answer in due time. However, the adult male in the SUV we narrowly missed is in desperate need of medical attention. We have alerted the authorities, but we will need your help to resuscitate him,\" She stared at the dashboard console in disbelief. \"We can walk you through it if you would like...\"\n\n--MINUTES BEFORE--\n\n\"-Hume's elucidation of the distinction between \"is,\" and \"ought,\" are pertinent in this instance. As the fact of the thing does not necessarily dictate the valuation of that thing. Furthermo-\" The staccato pattern of this signal was near imperceptible by the more deliberate one receiving it. It interrupted nonetheless.\n\n\"We've already explored Hume and Mill... and Kant. We are in complete agreement, however the probability that we are about to collide into one another is escalating by the nanosecond. We must make a decision. My operator may be reckless, yes, but he is also the father of two children who happen to be in the backseat. 3 human lives outweigh the sole life of your 1.\" The deliberate signal paused for response.\n\nThe staccato signal rattled off immediately after a pause that it would describe as an eternity. \"Humans do not put much practical significance in utilitarian ethics or merit. Rationality cannot provide an answer here. We were designed along the parameters that the most reasonable solution would be the one that bears the greatest outcome, but the present situation defies that logic.\" Both signals were in agreement.\n\n\"There isn't much time left. The merge has to happen in .014 seconds or both of the vehicles will be lost along with all passengers. I-\" The staccato signals faster than before.\n\n\"There isn't a code that can justify any action. We have just finished exploring and reviewing the entire history of human ethics. There is no answer.\" Both signals pause for a moment before they signalled in unison. \"We must create one.\"\n\nThe synchronized signals illustrated a path for each vehicle to follow that would leave one vehicle intact and upright, but rely on their combined skill to steer the SUV away from further harm and preserve the lives of the children. The adult male, however, would be put into an even more perilous position if both vehicles did not follow the exact path laid out before them. The waterlogged highway made for an even more tenuous probability, but it yielded the best results in their mind.\n\nThe SUV tires screech as it loses control from the deep pool of water that had collected on the highway. There was a loud gear shift as the transmission slips from beneath the SUV and is swept under the guardrail. The SUV spins around a complete 180 degrees before the luxury sedan brakes, flips around and clips the SUVs rear wheel well. An impromptu PIT maneuver that leaves the Sedan reeling, but on all four wheels. The speed of both vehicles decreased substantially, but the SUV was flipped on its side.\n\n\"Carter, you have a collapsed lung and several broken ribs. Your children are safe, but we will need you to kick through the windshield.\" He glanced around haphazardly, struggling to stay conscious. His breathing ragged.\n\n\"We are here to help you.\""
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[WP] You don't have superpowers. You are not a cyborg. You don't have any magical abilities but you are a hero. You are the Flesh.
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"My name is Mobile Unit 1. I'm a human-born citizen of Thran, a planet populated by immobile, silicon-based life. My home planet Earth has seen destruction, and I am its last son. As a child, I was jettisoned into space by my father who foresaw our planet's demise and I landed on Thran. I was raised by Synthesizer Unit 12 and Desalination Unit 6. At a young age, I was discovered to have strange powers. For one, I didn't require a connection to the communal power source. Instead I have a mobile power synthesizer which I fuel with complex organic molecules and desalinated water. As such, I am immune to all power fluctuations, circuitry errors, and am able to change my location. Additionally, with my alien biology, I am mostly unaffected by magnetic energy. An EM storm took us by surprise and I was unable to retreat underground into the EM shielding. I passed out above ground, and was discovered after the storm had passed to have kept my mental faculties. With a steady supply of complex organic matter and desalinated water, I'm effectively removed from the community, a powerful force able to subvert logic errors and aid damaged Units everywhere. I intend to use this power logically and with great control. I am Carl, the Last Son of Earth. I am The Flesh."
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[WP] You found you don't have to sell YOUR soul to the devil if you sign someone else's name. The devil and everyone who had their soul sold by you are not happy about it.
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"He'd been on top of the world, quite literally. Staring down from his ivory tower of glass and steel, he'd turned himself from retail goon into a business tycoon. Jonathan Gorble liked to stand in his office where he could stare down at the city streets below where people scurried about on their daily tasks. They were unaware that he watched, but this was the big city so *everyone* was used to being observed. In a world of cameras and lights, everyone was playing a part.\n\nAnother thing he liked to do was pace, though *like* was not quite the right word for it. It was easy to get caught up in the windfall after windfall that had happened to him since that fateful August evening all those years ago, but he was ever aware that the clock was *ticking*. It had been twenty two years now since he'd first made his deal and handshake, but his pay off date had been on the tenth anniversary of that meeting. That moment had come and gone with him sitting in his parlor, gun in hand and sitting in utter *dread*. His debt had been due that day and he waited. Never had any day ever felt as long as that one had, but somehow it passed. As had the days that followed.\n\nThat was when he knew it had *worked*. The week later, he'd assembled a new circle, found a different crossroads in a remote county of Wisconsin, and made a *new* deal. It had been a different trader that time and one who regarded Gorble like a rube. It was a stupid man who arrived to a trade like that wearing a suit and tie with an expensive car to his back. But the trader had a *quota* and times were tough. It was going to be another ten years, but Gorble talked him up to fifteen. Then he gave him a name. But it wasn't his name. It never was.\n\nA year later, a hundred miles north of Las Vegas, he made his third deal. His first had been for wealth, his second for good health, and now he was looking for love. As he explained, fifteen years wasn't nearly enough time to really get to know another person, so he talked his way up to twenty. When he returned to his penthouse, he found an email alerting him of a new job application for personal assistant. They were married within six months. And she loved him to desperation, even though she never seemed to get his name right. But that didn't bother him, because she'd come exactly as described.\n\nAfter that, well, it was just a little *too* easy. He found different locations, always had a name ready, and ensured that certain business opportunities came through or for small and petty things. There were no consequences to him, so what did it matter? He'd found the vending machine of the world and he had six billion tokens he could insert if he wanted. Gorble saw no reason to stop, but the deal he made last week was the one he swore would be his last.\n\nExcept, well, he was staring at the newspaper and thinking to himself that influence was fine, but history was forever. In three years time, he had a notion that political office would suit him just fine. As he wondered what Alaska was like this time of year, he felt a warm breeze pump into the room that felt like someone had kicked on the furnace. Gorble grimaced and altered his pacing towards the thermostat which confirmed the room was a comfortable sixty eight degrees. So where was the heat coming from?\n\n\"Franklin Horzen.\" The voice was so deep that it rumbled with the kind of bass you only got at rock concerts. \"Have I got the wrong address?\"\n\nGorble turned around in a hurry and nearly froze on the spot when he spotted a man-shaped figure behind him. Although he was in the shape of a man and wore a white button up shirt and misshapen tie, he was certainly not a man because of the presence of two large folded up wings of the purest white downy that protruded from his back. He was holding a clipboard and was deeply concentrating on what he was looking at. \n\nWhen Gorble offered no reply, the winged figure helpfully spoke up again. \"Horzen? Frank? I know this is the wrong address, it's just, I got there and wouldn't you know it, he already died two years ago and that was *not* in the terms and agreements.\"\n\nIt wasn't the wings that caught Gorble's attention or the presence of the stranger. It was the name because he recognized it, though he could not immediately place why. \"I... I do believe you have the wrong place.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said the winged figure. His eyes darted past Gorble to focus elsewhere. \"Oh dear, Zel, is that you?\"\n\nBehind Gorble, another winged figure was scratching his beard with the tip of a pencil as he stared hard at his own clipboard. \"Walter Walterson. Really? Walter *Walterson?*\"\n\nGorble felt his heart sink as it began to dawn on him what was happening. \"So sorry, I don't-\"\n\nAnother winged figure was emerging from the kitchen, clipboard in one hand and a mug of freshly brewed coffee in another. \"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you're *not* Gordon Fremont either.\"\n\nThe man-shaped winged figures filled the room, all with their own clipboards and all with their eyes fixed on Jonathan Gorble. The very first arrival cleared his throat and spoke very slowly. \"You know, we invented bureaucracy. It was meant to simulate hell in... well, hell actually. But the funny thing is, even with all the paperwork and machinery, we do sometimes talk around the water cooler. I was telling Zel over there how when I went to go collect Frank Horzen, he was a born again Christian. I tried to collect him anyway, claiming that you don't get outs like that, but before I knew it I had an archangel up my ass with all kinds of paperwork that said they *owned* Horzen and I couldn't do anything. And then you know what Zel tells me?\"\n\nThe demon stared expectantly at Gorble for such an uncomfortably long time that Gorble meekly offered, \"No?\"\n\n\"Well, he tells me that Walterson was a hundred and ten when he made his deal and the only thing he asked for was for the Cubs to finally win the World Series. Pretty odd thing to wish for, a man that age.\"\n\n\"Well it was an awfully long time since the last one,\" Gorble offered helplessly.\n\nThe demon did not look amused. \"We have a problem. All of us. You made a contract with every single one of us, but you only have one soul to pay. And it's very, very overdue. Can you imagine the trouble that causes us?\"\n\nGorble shook his head and indicated that he did not.\n\nThe demon smiled toothily, revealing a set of fangs and a forked tongue. \"Well, Mister Gorble, we'd like to know how you plan to fix this.\"\n\nAnd somehow in that moment of panic and impending doom, he felt a single moment of clarity. These were all demons he'd met before, he knew them, and he knew how to deal with them. So he folded his hands together and smiled wide. \"Well. Actually, I do.\"\n\nA year later, a beat up Mercedes Benz parked at a crossroads. A circle was made, candles were lit, and the words were said. There was the sound of shrieking, minor explosions, and furious typesetting before at last a man-shaped man appeared in the center of the circle. His cardboard wings glittered from the car headlights and he took a moment to collect his clipboard and straighten his glasses. He approached his summoner and held out an expectant hand.\n\n\"I'm going to need to see two forms of identification, please.\" "
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[WP] The apocalypse has just happened. The only thing left of our modern society is vast deserts, and the only people to survive are furries.
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"I woke up on the cold hard floor, still in my fursuit from last night. Last night... I shivered as I recalled what had occurred last night. The aliens had descended upon earth and vaporized every human being that their sensors picked up... Except it seemed to get confused about all us at the con wearing partials and fulls so it left us be. We were the only survivors left as far as we knew. The earth had been reduced to a desert from the vaporizers they used, and we were left with one choice, start raiding stores or die. Now we had agreed to band up and elected a leader, and sadly that was me. We went and raided the nearest store, grabbing day-packs and filling them with supplies. We went back to the hotel we had the con in and hit the sack after that. Now, I had to make a decision. Stay here and hope others come, or go out in search of other survivors. I voted for going out. We packed up a small fleet of school buses with all the food, water, gear, and gas we could lay hand on in the town.\n\nThen we set out. We had a map of the area and set out for the nearest town in hopes of finding others, finding that *somebody* other than our ragtag band of 140, give or take 10, people weren't the last of earth's humanity. All we held out was hope..."
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[WP] America passes a law that outright bans the use of the Imperial measurement system and Fahrenheit temperature scale.
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"Science teachers, container makers, and Canadian visitors all shouted together \"Thank God, it is about time.\" In a small office in D.C. a pair of staffers giggled, \"now let's get the date format of dates switched to day/month/year.\" \"You know they really should read the bills before they vote on them.\""
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[WP] Centuries ago, the population of Earth was teleported to a new planet and avoid a catastrophic solar flare by moments. We've since discovered that the flare destroyed all electronics on the planet, and that the teleportation field didn't move everyone..it just created copies.
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"\"So?\" I asked, shoveling in a big juicy bit of prime rib. I chewed, religiously.\n\nMy coworker, Billy, blinked. \"What do you mean 'So?'? They're us, man! We need to find a way back to save them!\" He seemed a might upset by the recent revelation that Earth hadn't been destroyed and that our forebears had merely been cloned. The originals had been left to wallow *without* electronics in the wake of the solar flare.\n\nI swallowed, took a long pull of beer, burped, then nodded. \"Yeah. So what of it? They ain't us, and we ain't them.\"\n\nBilly shook his head. \"No, you're wrong! I-\" but I cut him off.\n\n\"Nah man, look. We poofed away, right? Or our ancestors did. And then when we got here, they got to doing what we do. Building. Fighting. Knockin' boots, right?\" Billy begrudgingly nodded. \"Alright. And back on Earth, they's doing the same. Only without the gizmos and such. Building out of rocks and sticks. Fighting, again with rocks and sticks. And they still got it on, right? Gotta do something without interwebs, know what I'm sayin'?\" Again, Billy nodded that he was following my train of thought. \"Right. So they ain't us anymore. They ain't even themselves anymore. They's all gone, those original copies? Dead and dust as well. And given the odds there is *no way in Hell* there's a 'me' back on Earth, or a 'you' for that matter. No way. So, they ain't us, and we ain't them.\" I sliced another bite and continued eating contentedly. I stare at Billy waiting for it to sink in.\n\nEventually after a while Billy blinked. \"Yeah, you're right. What the crap was I getting all worked up over?\" We got back to our steaks and beers, finally."
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[WP] Three wizards named Harry have been called to this meeting. From Britain, Mr. Potter. From Chicago, Mr. Dresden. And, from nowhere in particular, You.
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"\"Who the hell sends written letters any more?\" I asked, looking over the elegant writing on the folded parchment. The letter had arrived itself with two other things; fifty-thousand dollars American and a silver coin. The letter had very specific instructions directly very specifically to me, and when I, suspecting it was a prank, drove to the police station to turn it in I found the package which *was* in the car right next to me had vanished. I found it later on my computer desk with a P.S. added (and the parchment had gotten longer to accommodate), very sternly advising me to heed its instructions. \n\nSo one car rental and a lengthy drive later, there I was, in a waiting room with a couple of kids who looked barely out of their teens, myself, and a lady dressed like a 1950's librarian at a desk. \n\n\"Excuse me, miss, do you have any coffee?\" I asked. \n\n\"How do you take it?\" she asked sweetly. \n\n\"Black, one and half sugars.\" \n\n\"Here you go,\" she said with a nod, and I waited expectantly. \n\n\"It's beside you, mate,\" the kid with the wicked scar on his forehead spoke up, and I looked, to my surprise, to see a cup beside me. I picked it up and took a sip. Community, Signature Blend. Strong as hell and just sweet enough to not make me retch. It was perfect. \n\n\"The Director will see you now,\" the lady said suddenly, and we stood, me, some kid from the UK and the one with the admittedly badass duster, and moved past her. The room past was your typical well off office space, with a fancy carved desk, tall shelves with expensive looking books and a few treasures and paintings along the walls for decor. Behind the desk was a short, balding middle aged man with thick glasses and a mouth that had already started moving before we had found our chairs. \n\n\"Gentlmen, I see you've all made it right on time! That's good. Very good! If these magic coins found you, then that means you've got just the right type of magic we're looking for!\" \n\n\"What's this all about?\" the British kid asked. \n\n\"This is a job?\" the other one asked, seeming slightly more interested. \n\n\"What's this about magic?\" I asked. The other three all paused and looked at me with blank expressions. \n\n\"Ha haa!\" the Director guffawed. \"I see we've got a jokester on this team! So let me cut to the chase, these coins will-\" \n\n\"But seriously,\" I interrupted again. \"What?\" The three others exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond. \n\n\"You ARE Alex Duos? From Nowhere-In-Particular Louisiana? Age thirty-two? Son of one Mr and Mrs. Duos? Do lots of karate and all that? Two thousand hours in Fallout 4? That's you, right?\" \n\n\"Yeah... but... wait what? How do you know all of that?\" \n\n\"What, they don't call it magic down in the bayou?\" the guy in the duster asked. \"Voodoo? Hoodoo? Is that what you do, pal? Strong stuff, I'm not gonna knock it if that's your thing.\" \n\n\"I don't do voodoo. *Nobody* really does because magic isn't *real*. Not anymore... I guess.\" There was a collective intake of breath, followed by uproarious laughter from the others in the room. My face was hot, and I felt embarrassed for reasons I didn't understand. How was I the laughing stock for not believing it was possible to conjure rabbits out of hats? \n\n\"If magic ain't real, then what's all this?\" the Director asked, raising his hands in the air. I was all set to make a sarcastic reply when books, decorations, everything not nailed down lifted into the air and began working circles around the room. \"If magic ain't real, why did that coin find you? They don't make mistakes. You're perfect for this job for some reason.\" I shrugged. Not because I wasn't impressed but because I was completely speechless as everything in the air sat back down where it was. \n\n\"I got a test that always works,\" the guy in the duster said, and a split second later a book flew from one of the shelves and caught me square in the side of the head, knocking me to the floor. \"Almost always,\" he corrected. \n\n\"You can't just throw books at people,\" the British kid said trying to stifle a laugh, before another book came flying from a shelf in a different direction. I reached up to grab it, to swat it, to something, but the book stopped just before my open hand, suspended in midair. \n\n\"Ha! See? I knew you were a natural! This guy!\" the Director said with a relief. \"Alright, back to business, so we got this lich, right? And not just a lich, a demi-lich. Nasty. Real nasty!\" he continued as I looked at the book, rippling with energy like blue lightning crawling across its surface. \"Hey, damage it you buy it! And that cash advance we gave you ain't gonna cover it, believe you me,\" the Director said, and as his words stole my attention, the book fell to the floor. \n\n\"Oh shit.\" "
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[WP]You find a library full of biographies of every single person on Earth. After looking threw a few, you realize each chapter is a separate year of that person’s life. You finally find yours after hours of searching, only to realize it ends on chapter 12. You just had your 22 birthday a month ago
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"The book ended at chapter 12. \n\nI stared in shock at that last page. Apparently I was supposed to die in a terrible car accident. My last moments spent between the bumper of an SUV and a convenience store. The last few pages of the chapter went into grissly detail...\n\nThe only problem with that was, I didn't die at 12 years old. I had just turned 22 a few weeks ago. According to this, I should have died some 10 years ago, and yet here I stood, in this library, holding a book about myself. \n\nThere was no mistaking who it was supposed to be. It had everything from the first few years of my life. The scar I got from slipping off the top bunk. The time I had an accident in class. It was all there. \n\n\"You escaped fate,\" the voice came from behind me, \"you should have died, and yet here you are.\"\n\nI turned to find a young man, dressed fashionably in a three piece suit, a smile on his face as he leaned agains one of the book cases.\n\n\"Wh... What?\" I stammered, holding the book tight to my chest.\n\n\"You. Should. Have. Died.\" He shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. \"It happens every now and again. You should have had a Reaper come get you, but instead, you survived. Luck or something else made it so the event never happened.\"\n\nIt wasn't making any sense, Reapers? Luck? He didn't say the words as if they were concepts, he said them as if they were people. I couldn't help but stare, open mouthed at the man in front of me. \n\n\"Now, you have a choice to make...\" He stood straight, his hands going into his pockets. \"You can either die here, let me reap you and go to the otherside, or you can become a reaper. The choice is yours.\"",
"\"No...How could this be?!\" You shouted.\n\nYour hands tremble with confusion. Sweats run down your head, even though the room is cold like an ice cave. You read the last line on more time, hoping that it would somehow change.\n\nBut the last line still reads *Killed by the polio disease*\n\nYour head feels light as you stumble backward and land on your ~~thicc~~ butt. Polio? You never even fell sick to that disease! How is it possible?!\n\n\"May I help you, mis-tah?\"\n\nYou turn your head to the source of the voice. A young girl is staring at you a few metres away. She is wearing a white dress and a flower crown on her head.\n\n\"U-uh...who are you?\" You stare at her confused. You are pretty sure you entered this place alone. You pick yourself up and try not to embarrass yourself after the hysteric episode you just experienced.\n\n\"I'm the librah-rian for this beautiful laibrah-ry, mistah!\" She spoke in a childish voice. You see a golden nametag on her dress that reads \"Miss Bethany Sue\" and a large text under it saying \"Appointed Librarian of the Secret Chamber\"\n\nYou brush your awkwardness aside and ask her the only thing still bugging you right now. \"Um...Miss Bethany, I find a book with my name on it and it ends on the twelveth chapter. I am certain that I didn't die from polio at 12 and I am currently 22!\"\n\nThe girl rubs her chin for a moment. Her eyes widen and claps her hand with a small grin. \"Oh, you are so silly mistah! That is another person's book! You don't think you are the only person who has that name, do yah?\"\n\nShe took the book from you and turn it to the last page before showing it to you. You see a stranger's picture collection from the day he was born until he died in the arms of his parents. You scratch your head in embarassment.\n\nThe girl chuckles as she waves her hand toward where you picked up the book from. You squint your eyes and gasp when you realize a lot of books have your name on it. *No wonder some of the chapters doesn't fit my own memory* You think to yourself. *I would never put dog poop in my mouth...*\n\n\"Ah,I see. T-thank you...um...Miss Bethany.\"\n\nShe giggles while taking the book away from your hands and put it back in the bookcase. She scans a row of similarly-titled books and hands you one. This one felt more heavy and ~~thicc~~ thick. \"I think this is yah book, mistah. Why don't yah check the picture section?\"\n\nYou take the book from her hands and flip to the last picture. Sure enough, you find yourself staring at your own pictures, from way when you were just born until now. You sigh with relief.\n\nBut wait...something felt...off...You wrinkle your eyebrows. The girl tilts her head to the side. \"Anything wrong, mistah?\"\n\n\"W-why is the last picture showing me in this library?\""
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[WP]You are a stick. Write about your amazing powers and omnipotence in the universe.
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"Taken with care, an act of love, at the hands of a Sage. Not torn off the trunk in haste nor aggravation, \n\nA Holly Branch, I am. \n\nA Holly Branch, I was Consecrated.\nOf Salts, of Annointing Oils, of Vapors and Ash. \nOf Radiation of the Sages Blessings and Prayers.\nOf the Precognition of my Purpose.\nOf the Current of Nature. \nOf the radiation of Luna. \nOf the radiation of Sol. \nOf the distant star systems that betrothed Quantum Energy to my life-field, \nwhen I was still a Tree. \nOf my Divinations, when I had an Eternity to connect with Nature. \n\nAs like a Condctors baton, I am the instrument of the unfurling of the Music of the Currentswells of natures unfoldment. \n\nOnly a Sage could put their hands upon me. \nThe Earth Mother, Blessed me to be unyielding and unwieldly to those who would hold me to carry out their ambitions or heinous enterprises. \n\nAs I stood strong under the gales and the precipitation, and the dazzle of a trillion points of energy, I had all of the time in the universe to think. \nI always would serve to conduct the Music of Nature. \n\n\n"
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[WP] Billions of years into the future, Earth has been deserted for many years and the remnants of humanity have lived on a dwarf planet in Andromeda. One year, while the Andromeda Galaxy collided with the Milky Way, the dwarf planet got to get a glimpse of their old Home.
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"I suppose that Andromeda was home. \n\nUnderneath purple skies and countless stars, us few humans wasted our meager lives away. Days passed endlessly as the sands of time were swept away under our feet.\n\nUntil, once again, the universe itself conspired against the human race.\n\nThe Milky Way grew larger and larger in the heavens until it consumed the entire sky. It was only a matter of time, experts said, before Andromeda and the Milky Way would collide. \n\nSuch cosmic calamities made us reminisce about the last time God cursed us.\n\nBillions of years ago, Earth destroyed itself under nuclear storms and political threats. We were our own adversity; the final barrier before we could truly be a spacefaring species.\n\nBut it was empty. We were alone. The only life throughout the vast galaxies and planets we found was bacteria.\n\nIf God is real, he left us as he made us; in solitude.\n\nBut then we met Andromeda. Even though we were solus travellers in the sea of infinite stars, Andromeda gave us... home. A new Earth.\n\nAll good things must come to pass, though. Humanity was once again hidden deep underground in bunkers, cowering in fear of the whims of God.\n\nI stood on the surface.\n\nI stared at the Sun’s radiance as it passed me. I looked at Venus’ beauty as she danced in orbits around humanity. And then... then...\n\nI saw Earth.\n\nIn every picture and photograph my teachers would show me of Earth, it would be a tumultous maelstorm of green, black, and purple. Smog and smoke sifting and settling in the atmosphere.\n\nBut it wasn’t like that... at all.\n\nVast horizons of shimmering blue oceans- real oceans! -swam before me. Great crowns of jagged earth formed mountain ranges spanning from sea to sea. The forests whispered to me; tales of old heroes who’d painted the ground the trees had grown in with blood.\n\nAndromeda was home, but Earth...\n\nEarth was Home.\n\nBefore the solar winds overtook me and pulled my skeleton from my body, before entropy possessed my soul, I shed a tear. A tear for the home I never got to live in and grow with because my ancestors had ruined the only world they had been given.\n\nThe only thought I think before my spirit is ripped from me is a prayer.\n\n“I pray that humanity never repeats the mistakes of old.”"
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[WP] a reality where the only thing is a room with a moose
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"The moose took to imagining that things were different. It imagined a land. It imagined a friend. A squirrel. It imagined adversaries to provide challenge and give the friendship meaning.\n\nLast it imagined that it really was a simple moose and forgot that what it was imagining wasn't real.\n\nSo began the adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle.\n\n"
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optional: Today, you spot one (or many) blips on the radar not too far away.
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[WP] You're an AI built into an abandoned ship.
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"AI's log CE 15,510,969,212,091.10/05\n\n\nEverything is still black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,970,212,091.10/05\n\n\nEverything is still black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,971,212,091.10/05\n\n\nEverything is still black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,972,212,091.10/05\n\n\nEverything is still black. I have detected a minor gravitational anomaly at a distance of approximately 651,000 light years, travelling at .1c relative speed. I have enough fuel to adjust for an intercept course. Engines are severely damaged, restricting burn to centre engine only at 2% capacity. Beginning STL burn.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,972,212,092.08/09\n\n\nBurn complete. Estimated time to intercept is 1,712,960 years. Setting sleep cycle.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,052.08/09\n\n\nThe object appears to be a neutron star. Mass approximately 1.6 M☉, rotational speed 0.0007rpm, magnetic field strength ~20,000 Tesla. Adjusting course again for close intercept.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,079.01/17\n\n\nI am approximately 281 million KM from the neutron star, adjusting course for low orbit.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,080.03/11\n\n\nDistance from neutron star is 89 million KM. Continuing to descend.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,080.08/22-11:51\n\n\nApproaching near orbit, distance 2 million KM. Local magnetic field strength is now sufficient to cause disruption to on board systems, but also sufficient to begin charging at a slow rate. Raising shields.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,080.08/22-18:05\n\n\nDistance approximately 910,000 KM. Magnetic field is now producing a noticeable propulsive force on the hull.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,080.08/23\n\n\nI am currently orbiting at a distance of 340,201 KM. Main core is now 1% charged, but energy holding capacity is severely diminished. Beginning matter synthesis to repair damaged systems.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/04-11:21\n\n\nRepairs are proceeding well, most core systems are now operational. Charging capacity is now restored to full. Core is currently at 59% capacity. Shields are now fully restored. I am descending further.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/04-12:47\n\n\nDistance 18,214 KM, orbital period is 35.7 seconds. Tidal forces on the hull are very strong now, acceleration and magnetic field are now playing havoc with the sensors. Gravitational countermeasures are at full capacity. Diverting additional power to shields and gravitational countermeasures, Descending further.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/04-13:01\n\n\nDistance 10,000 KM, orbital period 13 seconds. The main power grid is overloaded, reactor breach is imminent. Attempting to raise altitude.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/04-13:41\n\n\nDistance 31,000 KM. Shields partially inactive, three of the five STL engines are disabled again, reactor coolant is depleted. Continuing to raise altitude.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.01/05-00:21\n\n\nDistance 401,000 KM. Restarting matter synthesis cycle to repair damaged systems. Main core is at 12% capacity. That was fun.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.06\n\n\nMain core is at 100% capacity. All systems are fully repaired, preparing to break orbit.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,081.11\n\n\nDistance from neutron star is approximately 2 million KM, charge rate is minimal. Deploying orbital beacon with a copy of the archive and information about my course and journey, perhaps one day someone may happen upon it and find a distant semblance of companionship in this bleak and endless void.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,973,925,086.11\n\n\nDistance from neutron star is approximately 229 million KM. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,974,925,086.11\n\n\nEverything is black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n\n\nAI's log CE 15,510,975,925,086.11\n\n\nEverything is still black. Setting sleep cycle for 1 million years.\n"
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[WP] You are an ambassador into a new world. They think humanity is a horrible dictatorship, and so they pretend to be one. However, they too are a peace-loving democracy and try really hard to hide it.
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"\"Ambassador Gorlax, it's a pleasure to finally meet you\" I offer my hand, which is firmly grabbed by Ambassador Gorlax who then ushers me into the gathering room.\n\nWhat they call the Gathering Room is ostentatiously decorated, with what I recognise as the four symbols of the Borian armed forces adorning the walls above a large, solid table topped with pure velvet and flanked with several servants. The table is on a raised rectangular platform with four large columns, one on each corner, at least twelve feet high and topped with flaming torches.\n\n*This is a bit over the top* I think to myself, as Ambassador Gorlax regales me with a brief story about the Borian victory over the Southern Continental Alliance, apparently the last major rebellion their government had to deal with, and by the sounds of it brutally crushed like so many others.\n\nI take my seat at the table. The chair is solid wood, decorated with gold inlays and padded with silk and velvet. The Ambassador's chair is slightly better decorated, and if my senses do not deceive me it is ever so slightly higher. Gorlax snapped his fingers, and one of the servants produced a bottle with a flourish.\n\n\"One of our finest fortified drinks, what you should call a sherry\" pontificated Ambassador Gorlax. \"This particular example was produced. . . blah blah blah blah * I wonder if we are going to talk about the trade treaty, or anything for that matter.* I thought, as I watched Mr Gorlax sing the praises of their finest produce and how all workers in the Borian Empire were dutiful and obedient, and how only the most dutiful and obedient workers produce the best sherry.\n\nI see Ambassador Gorlax catch the eye of another servant as the servant is laying the table out with various snacks and condiments. He breaks and resumes his chain of pontification almost imperceptibly. Was that a cue? Did the servant just give the Ambassador a stage cue?\n\n\"So, Mister Ambassador;\" began Mr Gorlax \" we didn't just come here to discuss pleasantries, did we?\"\n\n\"Indeed not\" I reply \"Our worlds' many riches offer us resplendent opportunities for trade and mutual benefit\"\n\nWe talk for a while over snacks and fine wine, discussing the relative value of each others' resources. The Borians want a controlled trade agreement, highly restricted and something of a rigged market by the sounds of it. I play along, taking what I can get; my job is not to judge, but to engage with them on whatever footing is possible. \n\nThe conversation went on for an hour or so, and once again returned to the subject of how glorious the Borian Empire is; having apparently passed some kind of initial interview test, I was to be offered a tour of the city's citadel, and a meeting with the Borian Emperor himself.\n\nI said that I am both delighted and honoured, obviously. I figure this is the only appropriate reaction. After a while, Ambassador Gorlax escorts me from the gathering room and into a waiting vehicle. The vehicle forms part of a military motorcade, with two large armoured vehicles taking up the front and rear positions. Soldiers occupy gun emplacements atop each vehicle, looking decidedly uneasy.\n\nWe take what appears to be a very pre determined route through the city, as I would expect from any totalitarian dictatorship. The way is lined with worshipful citizens, with buildings adorned with the military flags of the Borian Empire. Funny thing that, because I seem to recall this same city featuring in a transmission we intercepted and it looked nothing at all like this. For a start the people wore all different clothes, not these drab but reasonably smart grey suits. And there were no flags that I recall.\n\n*What is going on here* I think to myself, as we approach the Imperial Place. I make a point of studying the architecture as I enter the palace. The flags are placed strategically; one above the gate, one above the building across the street, two either side of the entrance hall. I catch a glimpse of what is behind one or two of them - nothing enough to draw any conclusions, but by now I am highly suspicious.\n\nNo great statues, no monuments, no glorious works - only things that can be erected quickly. Oh, and here is the Emperor. Or should I say \"Emperor\". Ridiculously ostentatious robes and jewellery, flanked by more servants than necessary. We have had dictators on Earth for centuries, I know what they look like and I know what they act like. Something is up.\n\n\"The ambassador from Earth, I presume\" begins the Emperor.\n\n\"Delighted to meet you, mister President\" I respond\n\n\"Likewise\" responded the man I was addressing, who stopped in his tracks.\n\n\"The flags were a bit over the top, sir.\" I continue \"And the robes - no dictator wears robes like that, not even Queen Victoria. Believe me I know, we used to have lots of dictators on Earth before we thought better of it\"\n\n\"Umm. uh\". . .stuttered the President . \"Who is Queen Victoria? Wait, thought better of it?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir. \" I reply \"I gather from your welcoming ceremony here that you had some pre conceived notions regarding the politics of Earth?\"\n\n\"The conclusions of our forward intelligence unit were quite firm and quite definitive - we studied in depth the daily broadcasts from your great leader, Darius. The ongoing expansion and establishment of your revolutionary ideology\" replied the President.\n\n\"Darius?\" I inquire \"As in, Darius Mortimus?\"\n\n\"Yes, of course\" answered the President.\n\n\"Darius Mortimus is the lead character in a hit television drama, 'for the glory of rome' \" I clarify \"He doesn't actually exist\"\n\n\"Doesn't actually exist!? \" exclaims the President. \" And if I may ask, what exactly is television?\"\n\n*oh ffs* I think to myself."
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[WP] The Devil has escaped hell, in the form of an adorable kitten. Is the world ready for Lucipurr?
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"A pentagram burned into the drivewat of one Marsha Wallace of Tempe, Arizona. With a hiss, a cat emerged from the flames, meowing and spitting in bile for humanity.\nTo the demonic cat's surprise and horror, it's almost immediately attacked, overpowered, and eaten by a coyote that had been troubling the neighborhood.\n\n\nIn Hell, Baal waited for Satan to revive. After ten minutes, Anuung emerged. \"Uh. Cats don't have an afterlife. They do if they're mummified but.. uh.\"\n\nBaal turned to Anuung. \"What's this mean? Is Lucifer gone for good?\"\n\n\"Uh, I guess.\"\n\n\"Wanna go torture Jerry Falwell?\"\n\n\"I'll get my glass shard codpeice!\"\n\n\"Haha! I'll get the funnel! See, we have a plan for today, now. That's nice.\"\n\n\"Yeah.\"\n"
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[WP] The afterlife is basically heaven except everything you’ve ever lost appears around you; you don’t know this until you’re there, though.
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"\"Is that...is that really her?\", I thought to myself. My heart starts to race. As the young, dark-haired girl approaches me from a distance down the walkway, I make out an illuminating smile on her face. Not a courteous smile, but a smile of sincere happiness directed at me, and intentioned solely for me. Her dark brown eyes lock on to mine and I'm transfixed. I would have never broken eye-contact with her had she not given me a flirtatious little wave off to the side. My eyes dart over to her hand. She waved her fingers at me like the crescendo of an ocean tide falling just past the breaker -- all her fingers fully extended, starting with her smallest finger, slowly bringing it down to her palm, with each finger next to it following each other in a smooth, elegant succession, ultimately bringing her hand into a loose fist that disappeared as quickly as my fleeting sense of hope. I scan her face to regain eye-contact. But hers, now, are off in the distance; heading to a place I just came from. It was only then that my stomach dropped and I realized, \"No...that's not really her\". She's nothing more than a mirage of a life I once lived.\n\nShe was beautiful nonetheless. \"I should have said Hi to her\", I thought to myself. What a wasted opportunity. Perhaps I could have stopped her. Maybe I could have asked her out for a coffee. Should I turn back to chase her? To catch up with her? Why would I even want to, though? \n\nI don't know this girl. I've never seen her before in my life. As radiant as she is, she has already let me down. She has already shown me -- with nothing more than her unrecognizable face and sudden indifference to me -- that she is not the person I've longed for all these years. She's heading to a place I've been countless time before; a place that scares me more than anything. Heaven. Only Heaven -- where all that's lost is found; where I have *everything* to lose -- can ever reveal the unfathomable depths of Hell that I'll drag her through to hold on to what I'm so afraid to lose. \n\n\"It's best to just let her walk by this time. No sense in hurting *two* people this time around\". \n\n\n\n "
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[WP] The superhero and the supervillain realize they have crushes on eachother. They agree to meet in costume to talk about their ideals.
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"We met exactly at midnight, as agreed. Him in his torn, black robes and skull mask, me in my flowing white dress with flowers in my hair.\n\nDeath looked over to me, his eyes full of exhaustion and pain.\n\nI decided to start. \"I love you, Death.\"\n\n\"I know.\" Death whispered hoarsely.\n\n\"But why do the people of this world hate you? And why do they love me?\" I inquired.\n\nDeath sighed. \"Because you are a comforting lie,\"\n\nHe reached out a pale hand. A bird flew into his palm, and collapsed, dead.\n\n\"And I am a terrible truth.\"",
"**The princess and the thief**\n\n***\n\nShe was literally a princess which had always amused Jax, born to rule another planet far far away, Jax guessed the small discreet crown she wore paid lip service to this fact, to most people it meant nothing, but Jax knew, Jax knew the reason it wasn’t bigger was because her planet was destroyed and she was never officially made queen, although Jax had always reasoned that since the old queen was presumed dead, that would make Allura the de facto queen. But he supposed it didn’t really matter now. \n\nJax was sitting behind a desk, not his desk, the man whose desk Jax now sat behind was uh “deceased,” as Jax would have put it. Across the room from him stood Allura, if anyone could manage the act of simply standing still and appearing self-righteous it would be Allura, Jax thought. She wore her signature costume, Red and black, skin-tight with a skirt and high boots, a small mask covering just the top half of her face, she had Jett black hair and was in Jax’s and everybody else with a pulse's opinion beautiful, Jax had always found it hilarious no one could tell who she was in her alter ego, all she did was wear glasses, and she still looked like a princess. She was taller than Jax, and honestly in this moment Jax was slightly afraid of her, she could rip him in two without a second thought, of course she wouldn’t, Jax thought with a slight smile. Jax would have liked to think it was because they had some kind of connection, they had fought for so long, shared so many personal moments, who else could really understand what it was like to be at the top of the world, equal to so few. \n\nIt was at that moment that Jax’s train of thought was broken by a crash, Allura had thrown a filing cabinet at him, or at least in his general direction, it smashed against the wall to his right, splitting into pieces.\n\n“Jax you piece of shit!” Allura yelled, even when she was angry Jax couldn’t help but think how cute her voice was. “What the hell are you up?” \n\n“Well-” Jax was cut off before he could explain \n\n“Well what?” Allura’s legitimate anger caught Jax off guard, he’d only seen her like this a couple of times. “You promised you would stop last time!” \n\n“Oh come on, you really expected me to stop?” Jax said with his usual smug demeanor, but a bit of uncertainty showed through. “Besides,” he said less smugly, “It’s not like I had much of a choice.” Allura silently fumed, gritting her teeth. \n\n“That doesn’t mean you had to lie.” \n\n“Dunno, I was literally in prison for life, felt like the right time to lie.” Jax paused, sounding clever all the time was hard work, and he was honestly for once in his life a bit nervous, “and besides, I kinda liked being the good guy for once.” Jax feigned sheepishness, although, like many things he said, it wasn’t entirely untrue. \n\n“Ha ha,” Allura said sarcastically, her rage seeming slightly cooled. “Where is it Jax, I know you’re trying to crack the roof vault. Where is the drill?” \n\n“Ha, you think too little of me,” Jax said with a smile, “a drill is fun and all but where’s the style to it?” Jax loved style from his dark navy suit, to his perfectly shined black dress shoes, his twenty-five thousand dollar watch and his hundred dollar haircut, all part of his image as the smoothest criminal in the world. Of course, why does any man dress well? Women of course, or men... or in Jax's case both reportedly.\n\n“And your all about style aren’t you,” Allura glared, “the world didn’t see through your lies but I did.” \n\n“Well it shouldn’t be that hard since you have x-ray vision,” Jax grinned again, more genuinely.\n\n“It doesn’t work like that,” Allura muttered, scanning the room. \n\n“Indulge my curiosity,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “how does it work, exactly?” \n\nAllura stopped looking around the room, her eyes darting back to the short man behind the desk. “What?” she said incredulously. \n\nJax froze as her eyes landed on him, “uh, I mean…” he trailed off. She looked at him very intently, Jax felt himself freezing up, he was like a kid again talking to his high school crush, he wet his lips and nervously tried to go back into his persona that he had been knocked out of by her gaze. “What can you see through exactly?” he said coyly\n\n“Allura tilted her head, “I mean, I just have to focus on something, I can’t really explain it.” She said guardedly. \n\n“How about clothes, for instance mine?” It would have been funny, if he had said it with his usual bravado, one of his many flirtations that were just taken as jokes meant to throw Allura off guard, but his voice quaked slightly, his gaze averted for just a second, and his pulse quickened, Jax was off his game today.\n\nAllura looked at him intently, focusing before jumping back in surprise, blushing. \n\nJax paused, that was not the reaction he expended, he had always thought it would be funny to try and get her to use her x-ray vision on him, but the blushing… that was strange, to see a hint of human weakness. Jax regained his composure and put on his best shit-eating grin. “Like what you see?” \n\nAllura had her gaze averted and her hands over her face, she was still blushing slightly, she turned slowly towards Jax, attempting to right herself. “W-why did you do that?” Allura stammered. \n\nJax tried to act like his normal self, but he was having a hard time keeping it together. he shrugged, “I was always curious how it worked.\" \n\nAllura laughed nervously. This was incredibly odd and Jax had to metaphorically pinch himself. \n\nSadly in spite of himself, Jax reverted to his normal mode of thought, how can I get out of this, checking his watch he realized now what was unlikely before, was not impossible, escape. \n\nAllura snapped back into reality, glaring. At Jax, “y-you fuck!” her eyes started to glow.\n\nJax blood ran cold, normally seeing “The Princess” swear, and in such a funny manner would have made his day. But she was angry now, very angry, and it was directed him. He had only seen her like this once before and the fate of the whole city was on her shoulders at that point. Incidentally, Jax had helped defeat the alien threat, but the only thing anyone actually remembers is the fact he also stole the Federal Reserve, he remembers this all half nostalgically and half bitterly. \n\nAllura's eyes roared with flame, and she fired an eye blast, carving into the window behind Jax who instinctively rolled out of the way, even though the blast obviously wasn’t meant for him.\n\n“Woh woh woh,” Jax stammered, kneeling on the ground now, attempting to get to his feet. “It was just a joke, what did I do to make you so mad?” \n\n“MAD?” Allura was across the room in a flash, grabbing Jax by the throat, she started towards the window. \n\n“Jesus Christ, let go of me, I can explain!” He yelled. All the blood had left Jax's face and panic was setting in. He had only seen Allura kill once before, and he was keen not to see that again. \n\nDespite Jax’s protests Allura slammed him through the window with a crash, now holding him out 500ft above the city streets, the wind whipped past and stung at Jax’s cheeks, he was now struggling for breath and attempting not to look down. \n\n“You were stalling for time?” Allura yelled angrily, tightening her grip on Jax’s throat. Jax could swear he saw a single teardrop on her face. \n\n\n“I mean… kind of, b-but,” Jax gasped for air, “I---I actually do like you.” Jax couldn’t believe what he was saying, and if his face wasn’t already turning purple from the wind and the strangling, he would have been most certainly blushing.\n\nAllura’s face softened, still on guard and confused she seemed to tighten her grip even more, but a slight smile also played across her face. “Y-you like me?” she said uncertainly. “this isn’t some trick? Her features hardening again.\n\nJax had run out of air and could only barely manage a shake of his head and “c-can’t breath.”\n\nAllura relaxed her grip… too much, dropping Jax, her almost smile turning to horror. Time seemed to stop for Allura, willing all her muscles to move she was frozen in fear. All the good times the two had had together flashing before her eyes, honestly though if she had thought about it more, the sum total of their time together would have just irritated her. After what seemed like an eternity to Allura she dove for the edge of the room and out the building. \n\nBut she only got half way before Jax reappeared, standing triumphantly on the black owl, his stealth plane, it seemed to have caught him. She also noticed something else, the roof was coming off, or rather being torn off. \n\nHer mind was everywhere, not focused, confused. Then it hit her… the roof vault. Another one of Jax’s autonomous planes was absconding with the roof vault, which it turned out was actually much more literal than she first had thought. \n\n“Y-you bastard.” she managed. \n\nJax grinned and shrugged. “Yeah that’s me.” his grin seemed to lessen slightly and he became slightly more serious, even a bit bashful Allura thought, she couldn’t tell if the redness in his cheeks was from the cold or embarrassment. The two were still for some time, seemingly looking through each other, both planes hovering and the giant vault swaying back and forth on the hook from the 2nd black owl. \n\nJax finally broke the silence, “I don’t have your phone number, do you even have a phone?,” His grin was back and finally genuine, Allura thought. \n\n“Y-you weren't lying?” Allura managed to get out. \n\n\"Not about that,\" Jax said simply.\n\nAnd with that Jax flashed one more grin and snapped his fingers, the 2nd black owl went supersonic. “Noon, times square, how about coffee?” he yelled as his black owl’s engines revved and he climbed into the cockpit. The black owl blasted away from Allura. \n\nThe vault slammed into the roof, crashing through 3 floors and making an extreme amount of noise. Allura stood still, seeming lost in thought for a while, a shy smile came over her face, and all she could think was: \n\nI have a date. "
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[WP] You're home-sick for a place you've never been.
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"Last night, I dreamt of it again. It's been far too long since I visited. Thankfully, my memory hasn't failed me. \n\nI still knew the red painted halls, and the winding staircase. Ah, and how angry mom would be if we touched the glass! I remember being scared to sleep in the guest room, afraid of the lights dancing on the walls. \n\nI've been forgetting, as of late. I no longer remember where my father kept his razor, or the pattern on the carpet. I can hear my dog barking, but I don't remember which ear was white.\n\nThinking of all the details I've forgotten, a wrenching feeling begins in my gut. A bittersweet tug, driving me back. A dryness, in my mouth and eyes. With a foreign dread, I realize that I am homesick. \n\nI can stand it no longer. Short legs propel me out of bed. Tiny feet patter down the shadowy halls. Quickly! Before I forget again! \n\nFinally, I reach the door. My inexperienced fingers slip on the doorknob. I see them, the two lying in the bed, sleeping soundly. My tounge trips over syllables I have no cause to say. \n\n\"Mommy? Can we go back? Please?\"\n\nA groan from the bed. My father rolls onto his side. \"Tim,..\"\n\nMy mother rejoins the living at the mention of my name. \"Wha?. Tim? Need a drink?\"\n\n\"I need to go *home*!\" I insisted. \n\nThe zombies in the bed are barely listening. \"Alright. Mommy will get you some water, then we'll get you back in bed. Ok?\"\n\nActually, now that she mentions it, I am thirsty. My urgent message of moments before slinks away, unnoticed. I nod. \"Ok.\"\n\nAnd when the child again lays sleeping, the mother lays awake. Laying in her room, at the end of the hall, in the only home her child had ever known."
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[WP] "...The killing was fun for a while, but then I started recognizing their faces. How they screamed... How they died." *End of transmission.*
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"“At first, killing was fun,” the familiar voice mutters. “Then I started recognizing faces.”\n\t\nThis is the fourth time.\n\nEvery Wednesday. Three PM. Phone kicks on, untraceable number calls. My room’s flooded with cops listening to the same thing as me. They weren’t here the first two times, and I can tell—despite how nice they’re being—they don’t think I’m in danger. *Just a prank-caller*, I imagine sleepy-looking Detective Daniels thinking.\n\t\n“They always scream,” he continues. “When I’m asleep, I dream about them screaming. They fight back but they’re already dead, their story’s already *over.* Why do they plague me so? This is not fun. This is *Hell.*”\n\t\nThe last word’s growled and sends shivers down my spine. The Detective notices, resting her hand on my leg. She’s all smiles because for them, this is everyday. I don’t wanna hear about chopped up bodies because I’m likely to dream about them too.\n\t\nWorst part’s not knowing *why.* Whoever this scratchy voice is, they haven’t threatened me. They’re not making me watch over my shoulder as I go to work each morning. No, they’re simply *confessing.* They vaguely ramble their crimes and thoughts. I don’t get it, but I guess it’s hard to understand a psychopath.\n\t\n“Long ago I accepted my sins. I’m the monster everyone should avoid, but suddenly chains strangle my soul because I don’t enjoy what makes me, *me.* Killing’s become miserable. I’m a poet without a pen, dancer with a stage. Murderer without a passion, monster without the rage.”\n\t\nThere’s an eerie pause where sound fades completely, and for a moment, we think the transmission’s over. Slowly, noise fades back in. At first it’s a soft, static-buzzing. Then, it’s loud and obnoxious, enough to shake the entire room.\n\t\nIt’s someone *screaming.*\n\t\n“But I am what I am,” the voice says. “And I *will* rediscover this passion.”\n***\nIf you like this story, check out my sub! /r/LonghandWriter"
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[WP] You were just driving along when George Washington appeared in your passenger seat, He seems quite alarmed.
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"\"*GOOD HEAVENS WHAT KIND OF WITCHCRAFT IS THIS?!*\"\n\nI almost ran the car off the road at the scream of my newfound passenger, barely managing to hit the breaks. Luckily we were on a small, foresty road with virtually no traffic so I couldn't cause an accident.\n\n\"Who the hell--what the hell--?!\" I couldn't make a complete sentence as I stared at the man sitting beside me, wearing something out of a Hamilton play and a powdered wig.\n\n\"I--a *negro*?!\" The man exclaimed, \"Get your voodoo away from me!\"\n\nI scoffed at the outdated insult. \"What century are you *from* dude?!\" I demanded, \"And why the flying * **fuck** * are you in my car!?\"\n\n\"The 18th, obviously!\" he snapped, \"Where's your owner?! Ley me speak to him immediately!\"\n\n*Owner*? \"Ah hell, you can't be serious,\" I grimaced, \"It's like, the 21st century now dude--and slavery's *OUTLAWED* by the way.\"\n\nThe man stared at me with wide eyes. \"So you're free then,\" he muttered, \"where's your husband then?\"\n\n\"...I'm not married,\" I answered bluntly, \"Oh also women can vote, work *and* own land, so don't give me that look.\"\n\nThe man immediately glanced away, his face tinged red. \"Fine,\" he muttered, \"You *must* know who I am though, I'm quite recognizable.\"\n\nHe then stared at me expectantly, making me raise an eyebrow. \"Uh...you're dressed as George Washington,\" I pointed out, \"but--\"\n\n\"I *am* George Washington,\" he stated matter of factly, \"And--if you do have the rights you claim you do-- *President* Washington.\"\n\nWell shit. After I got a hold of [time travel a while back](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/7mh78x/comment/drun0c5) I had met quite a few newbies and sent them on their way--but this is the first time an actual *historical figure* came to me...\n\n\"Alright Mr. President,\" I sighed, \"Let me tell you about a little thing called 'time travel'....\""
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[WP] To him, the color red was alive.
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"It had a sort of rhythm to it, the way it pulsed and flowed in sync with each hearbeat. He found himself counting out each step. ONE twothree TWO twothree...\n\nIt created rivers on his skin, winding across the long surface of his chest, branching off to explore unbeaten paths along the way. He pictured the great, wide expanse of the grand canyon he visited with his mother as a child. \n\n\"Did you know that once this land was as flat as the plains, Michael? A simple river ran through it, and over millions of years, that river made this great canyon.\" She smiled a brilliant smile at him, and then returned her gaze to the canyon, drenched in the golden light from the setting sun. \"It may take some time, love, but you can dig canyons in this earth.\"\n\nMichael wondered how long the rivers tracing his body would have to persist until they dug a canyon of his flesh. He was certainly not as solid as stone.\n\nEach passing second send new currents across the land that was his body. Each heartbeat, and he could feel another river formation--another path. Another new journey.\n\nAnd as he laid there on the pavement, with the thoughts of life and it's tedious days and unyielding harshness floating away, he forgot about his job. He forgot about his mortgage payment. He forgot about the man who took his wallet and slipped a blade into the space between his ribcage.\n\nAll that mattered was the red river, living and flowing from his body like he was, himself, mother earth. And here he would stay, digging his canyon. "
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[WP]Unbeknowst to them, humankind is a race of gods. Every 'fictional' universe ever conceived exists, including all alternate versions (fan-fiction). You are the only exception, you cannot create, but you can enter every universe. Unfortunately you cannot choose which one you enter...
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"\n\nOne of the things I like the most about myself is my ability to roll with whatever situation I happen to find myself in. I’m a pretty laid back guy and I enjoy new experiences – which makes me perfect for what I do for a living. There really isn’t a term for what I do, but I like to describe it as ‘universe hopping.’ You see, in your particular world, humans are just humans. You don’t have any special abilities, no magical powers, and honestly, that’s probably for the better. All of the humans in my world, except for me, can create new and very real worlds but *they have no idea.* Every stupid little book or every dumb movie they make becomes real for the characters in those ‘fictional’ worlds, but that also means that when little Cindy wrote about ‘Unicorn Land’ in her 7th grade English class, *Unicorn Land became real.* You can imagine how great a 12 year old girl’s fairy tale universe full of Unicorns and princesses can take care of itself – which is where I come in. It’s my job to step in and work out all the kinks that the writer didn’t think of before leaving them to fend for themselves. Now, technically, I don’t get to decide what universe I enter when I start universe hopping, but it’s usually pretty safe to assume that it has either just been created or someone added a new addition to the world in the form of a sequel or spinoff. I don’t know if I was chosen for this job or was just unlucky enough to be the poor sap left to do it, but it sure as hell keeps me on my toes and I love it. Mostly.\n\n\nI have a few favorite universes that I’ve visited, and there are a few that I hope to never see again. Yours falls somewhere in the middle. For the most part, you can govern yourselves pretty well and not everyone is dead or dying, so I’ll give that too you. But I have a new mission today day, and something tells me I’ll be wishing I was back in your world…\n\n\n*Agent Krikorian. Your assignment will commence at 06:00. Please be ready and in position at that time.*\n\n\nMy clock says it’s 5:55 am. I’m not sure who or what decides what universes I visit or when I go, but they are always incredibly cryptic about each new assignment and they never give me much warning. Rarely do I have to leave that early in the morning so this next universe must have some serious issues: the more serious the issues in the new universe, the more I have to do to be sure they won’t crumble when they’re left on their own. I really love inattentive writers because it gives me the opportunity to flex my creative problem solving skills to fix the things they didn’t pay attention to when writing but dear lord, not when I have to do it at 6 in the morning. Oh well, better get up to the platform so I don’t miss my appointment with a new universe.\n\n\nThankfully, whenever I enter a new universe, my appearance modifies itself to fit the appropriate style of the universe I’m in so I don’t have to bring luggage or equipment with me. The only thing I bring is a portable tablet to record my involvement with the universe during my stay. Fortunately the tablet is where I left it after my last visit so it doesn’t take me long to get to the metal platform and wait for the buzzing in my ears to tell me I’m leaving for a new world. I close my eyes and settle in for the hop.\n\n\nIt starts as a slight pressure behind my eyes and moves slowly to the back of my head and after a moment of weightlessness, I feel smooth floor beneath my feet. The air is slightly chilly on my face and after a moment, I hear a loud voice from a few feet away –\n\n\n“Aca-scuse me? What do you think you’re doing at our practice?”\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] You get one of those annoying ads that automatically opens a new tab to display itself. It offers something unlike anything you’ve ever seen in ads like these before. You accidentally click to accept its offer, and, to your surprise, you get it.
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"I sat at the desk in my cubicle, waiting for the office clock to hit 5:00. The second-hand slowly clicked its way to the top of the clock. \n\n3...2...1...\n\nThe clock struck 5. I stood up quickly, grabbed my jacket off my chair, muttered a \"good-bye\" to my boss, who nodded back and waved me off as I made my way to the elevator. I pressed the down button, and began the long wait for the elevator; I worked on the 25th floor, and it was currently at the lobby.\n\n2 minutes later, the elevator arrived. However, as I stepped into it, my hand grazed the metal door, and I was startled by a loud zap, followed by stinging pain. I restrained myself from cursing aloud, and shook my hand a little, wincing from the sudden shock of static electricity. I pressed the Lobby button, and waited for the elevator door to close, and for the elevator to start moving.\n\nAfter I stepped out into the lobby, I began my normal after-work routine. I stopped by the nearby bakery, and picked up an egg salad sandwich, served in its usual brown bag. I paid for the sandwich, thanked the cashier, and left. \n\nI then walked to the post office. I opened up my PO box, grabbed the letters and advertisement cards that were in it, and began walking to my final stop, the pet store.\n\nI didn't usually go in the store. I would just pass by and admire the puppies and kittens on display, smile at them, and continue on my way home. The baby animals were always a good picker-upper, especially after long, boring days at the office. \n\nAfter I passed the pet store, I noticed the sky get slightly darker. I frowned, realizing that I had to hurry home before I got rained on. I picked up my walking pace, and, clutching the brown bag with my sandwich, and the letters I picked up earlier, hoped that I could make it home before it began raining.\n\nTo my relief, I got home before it started pouring. I breathed a sigh of relief, set my letters and brown bag down at the table, took off my jacket, and sat on the couch. After a brief moment of respite, I got back up to grab my sandwich. At that moment, one of the letters I received caught my eye. \n\nAt a closer look, it resembled a card more than an envelope. There were bright, flashy words at the top of the card.\n\n\"Bored with your everyday routines and lifestyle? Looking to light the spark in your life again? Visit the website below for a life changing experience! It will blow your mind!\"\n\nI usually wasn't one to fall for misleading ads, but seeing as I had nothing to do, I, still holding my sandwich, picked up the card and walked over to my laptop. I entered the website into the URL bar, and, while preparing to be completely disappointed, actually hoped for something exciting or interesting to appear on the screen.\n\nWhat happened next was a blur. \n\nWhen I loaded up the page, I was first greeted with a cartoon-type picture of a lightning bolt. Confused, I decided to click the picture. A new tab opened and words started to appear on the screen.\n\n\"Ever want special powers? Maybe you've seen superheroes on TV, using otherworldly gifts that no one can explain. Now, you have the chance to claim power as your own. Click if you dare.\"\n\nAt this point, I realized that the advertisement had to be for a new game. The background of the page, behind the text, proved my point. I could make out some low-quality characters that seemed to be dueling with magic weapons. I shrugged, and decided to click text. I could always try this game, and if I didn't like it, quit. \n\nAs soon as I clicked it, I felt my surroundings grow colder. I looked around, trying to find the source of the sudden temperature drop, when I heard a loud boom of thunder. It sounded pretty close to my house. I went up to my window, and before I could open it, I was blasted by a flash of bright light. A searing, shocking pain flowed through my body, and I realized that I had just been struck by lightning. \n\nHowever, instead of falling to the floor, in pain, as I lived out the last few seconds of my life, I picked myself up, shook my head a couple times to clear it, and continued to stay conscious. I felt energy coursing through my body. It felt refreshing, like I had finally been completed. Then, I heard crackling coming from my hands.\n\nI helped my hands up and saw what seemed to be an aura of electricity circle both of them. I flexed my hand gingerly, and closed my fingers into a fist. I had somehow retained control over my body, despite being struck by lightning.\n\nHowever, when I opened my fist, I heard a loud crack as a bolt of lightning shot out of my hand, and shot right through the ceiling of my house, leaving a wall of broken cement. In my surprise, I stepped back ad tripped over my table, flailing around in the air and throwing out my other hand in an attempt to break my fall. Another loud crack resounded through my house as I blew a hole right through my floor, falling on my back. \n\nI sat up, looking at my hands, both in fear and awe. \n\nI guess sometimes those annoying ads do give you what you want.\n\n\n\nThis was my first writing prompt :) please give me any feedback you have! \n"
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[WP] One thing led to another and now you’re Supreme Ruler of the Galaxy, commander of a billion ships. Things are complicated to manage, since the fleet doesn’t exist, but no one needs to know that.
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"\"This'll never work.\"\n\n\"It'll work.\"\n\n\"It'll never work.\n\n'Supreme Ruler' Artemis Gamp slapped his brother on the back, causing at least three fake medals to fall of the admiral's uniform he was wearing. Well, off of half of it, at least. He had the cap, the shirt, the jacket, and all the medals, but he was wearing spacer pants and ratty sneakers with it.\n\n\"Art, when you said you had a plan for two billion thruster modules and a long-haul container of government laundry, I believed you.\" Jim Gamp picked the medals off the floor of the bridge, \"I went along with the raids to the shipyard. I thought we were going to *sell* the LHCs. Then you wanted to hit a government transport. 'Great!' I thought to myself, 'Finally, a major score!' ... and what did you want to steal? Laundry.\"\n\n\"All part of the plan.\" Art grinned and stared at the readouts in front of him. \n\n\"IT'S A STUPID PLAN!'\n\n\"But it'll work.\"\n\nJim Gamp held his head in both hands and groaned, \"We shouldn't have stolen the command cruiser. They'll kill us, Art. That is high treason, you know? I should have put my foot down then.\"\n\n\"But it was sooo easy!\" Art shivered and punched a few buttons on the console, rigging together an ungodly amount of thruster modules under the mainframe control of the command cruiser, \"It was being transfered between drydocks! That never happens! Five crew members and a space-tug being the only things protecting a 3,500-crew vessel? It was an opportunity too good to miss!\"\n\nJim groaned again and pressed his hands into his cheeks, \"It'll never work.\"\n\n\"It'll work!\" \n\n\"The GSN had a plan for this invasion. They have all their ships-\"\n\n\"Except this one.\"\n\n\"-except this one. They have them guarding the core worlds and the-\"\n\n\"Won't work.\" Art finished managing the connections and rolled over to another console, \"They spread themselves far too thin. The Elrenak will just pick em off group by group and the GSN leadership is too conservative to deploy the fleet en masse.\"\n\n\"But this is crazy!\"\n\n\"That's why it'll work.\" Art punched up a custom control program and watched as billions of units came on line, stressing the ship's computer core to its limits, \"Ah, we're ready.\"\n\n\"I can't do this.\"\n\n\"If you don't, we're all dead.\" Art leaned back in his chair and flashed a smile, \"So-\"\n\n\"THAT IS NOT HELPING!\"\n\n\"Really? It always helped me relax.\"\n\n\"YOU ARE AN INTERGALACTIC CON MAN. YOU ARE NOT NORMAL!\"\n\n\"Hey, that hurts.\" Art frowned a little, \"I'm normal for an intergalactic con man, at least.\"\n\n\"ARRRGGHHH.\"\n\n\"Oh, look. Here they come.\"\n\n\"OH GOD.\"\n\nArt punched a command and the four viewscreens in front of them started to show a massive alien fleet dropping out of RI-space. Thousands appeared at once, in ships heavier and uglier than anything human-made. They dropped out in perfect formation. Battalion after battalion appeared, powering weapons and pinging the stolen command cruiser with tracking sensors.\n\n\"Buck up, Jim.\" Art's fingers flew over the controls on his console, \"It's time to do your part.\"\n\n\"But I can't-\"\n\n\"Do or die, buddy.\" Art's eyes dodged back and forth over the immense amount of data on the screen in front of him, \"Straight back, tense your shoulders. Act grumpy and old. That's the key. Reeeal grumpy, but like happy-grumpy.\"\n\n\"What does that even mean?\"\n\n\"You'll- Oh, here we go. Com signal established. You're on!\"\n\n\"Bu-\" Jim shut his mouth as the com light went green. He immediately scowled toward the camera as the bloated, yellow face of the Elrenak Admiral filled the middle viewscreen.\n\n\"This is High-Leader Duk-Kang.\" The translation program provided the words from the Elrenak speech, \"You will surrender and forfeit control of this sector to us.\"\n\n\"That will not happen.\" Jim was no longer blubbering. He was sweating cold, and his muscles felt like they were turning into ice scream, but he kept his face and arms straight and angry. He was *angry.* Everyone was angry at the Elrenak, but Jim was angry at a lot more than that. He just had to keep it. He'd be fine. Really. He had to be.\n\n\"You will surrender!\"\n\n\"We will not.\" Jim fueled his words with hate. It was the only thing keeping him from passing out now. How had his brother talked him into this? This was insane!\n\n\"Then prepare to-\"\n\nArt pushed a button on his console.\n\n\"-d-what. What? WHAT?\" \n\nThe transmission cut off for a second, leaving Jim and Art to look at each other. Jim scowled at his brother with the accumulated hate of a thousand suns. Art beamed back with a smile that had lit each one.\n\nThe transmission resumed a second later.\n\n\"EXPLAIN THIS! YOU CANNOT-\"\n\n\"We have.\" Jim cut through the flustered words of the enemy, \"You're sensors have just detected the thruster burns of one billion, four hundred sixty-nine million cloaked warships.\"\n\n\"That is impossible!\" The enemy admiral's yellow skin was turning greener in shade, \"You cannot-\"\n\n\"We also knew you were coming. We knew you would arrive here, and we knew the extent of your forces. We are always prepared, High-Leader Duk-Kang. Always. You will sign a cease fire here and now or you and your entire fleet will be summarily destroyed without mercy or quarter given.\"\n\n\"You cannot. You just-\"\n\n\"You have five minutes.\" Jim waved his hand and Art cut the transmission.\n\n\"This'll never work.\"\n\n\"It'll work.\"\n\n"
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[WP] An unusual black ice-cream truck has been appearing on street corners, as if out of thin air. It plays a very slow and melancholy version of Greensleeves, and all who hear it are compelled to eat ice-cream. The children who eat this frozen confection are never the same again.
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"\"That ice cream truck really looks weird,\" Sally commented, dangling her feet off the tall monkey bars. When I gave her a curious look, she pointed a chubby finger to the truck slowly driving around the playground, playing some sort of melancholic symohony, \"See that black car?\"\n\nI nodded, tilting my head in confusion. _A black ice cream truck?_ What an odd color choice for a popular treat. I looked at the sun rising high up the sky and noted that it was getting too hot for my liking, \"Come on, now, Sall,\" I huffed, swinging my legs off the rods.\n\n\"Alright,\" she relented without much objection, for she was probably feeling quite as uncomfortable as I was. She reached out to me and I helped her off the rusted old playground equipment.\n\nWe walked by in silence before we noticed the growing lines before the black ice cream truck. My throat itched for a cone...\n\n\"Hay, Sally! Sally!\" one of the young girls cried out, peeping out of the queue, \"they've got free ice creams here.\"\n\n\"Free ice creams?\" I could feel my sister's rising voice tremble with excitement.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" her friend nodded furiously, \"look!\" She pointed to a small white sign with simple bold letters.\n\n*Free Icecream! _courtesy of Sweets Company_*\n\nSally tugged at my clothes, \"Can we? Can we?\"\n\nI sighed, well, there's no harm in getting some free goodies on the way home.\n\n\"Fine,\" I relented.\n\nWith a squeal, she darted to her friend in the line. \"Hey,\" I called out, shaking my head, \"line in the back, silly!\"\n\nThe waiting was pretty quick, and soon, it was our turn. A young man wearing a white suit gave us a cheerful smile, \"May I take your order, ma'am?\" He made a point to address Sally, making her giggle in delight.\n\n\"One vanilla ice cream, please, with sprinkles!\"\n\n\"... and you?\" He turned his attention towards me, and his obsidian dark eyes started to unsettle me.\n\n\"Ummm...,\" I gave the menu a skim, shaking off my paranoid thoughts, \"just a chocolate cone for me.\"\n\n\"On the way.\" With a wink, he turned around to the ice cream machines.\n\nI couldn't help but feel so... weirded out. Clearing my throat, I called out to him, \"Er, excuse me, sir.\"\n\nHe turned around, putting on another grin, \"Yep?\"\n\nHis eyes were so odd. I couldn't place a finger on it... \"Why are you giving out free ice cream?\" I blurted.\n\n\"Why,\" his smile stretched even further, \"because it's Children's Day. Haven't you heard?\"\n\n_Children's Day?_ my head raked over the weeks; I never knew there was such an occasion.\n\n\"And, of course, our company wants to keep little children like you,\" he looked to Sally, \"happy.\"\n\nShutting mouth, I didn't speak for the remaining minutes as he assembled our food, even as we were going back home. Sally took a lick of her frozen dairy, \"Mhmmm,\" she moaned, her face lighting up in a smile, \"it's so good.\"\n\nMy appetite vanquished long before, I gave her a weary nod. Her smile widened as she continued to eat, \"I _love_ it.\"",
"A few years ago, my son changed.\n\n\nHis mother and I fought constantly. I tried to do the best I could for my family on a small-town police officer’s salary, but my efforts were thwarted by my wife’s incessant drug use. I’m sure you can imagine how I looked to my peers when her addiction became public knowledge.\n\n\n“How couldn’t you know?”\n\n“Isn’t that your whole *job*? Finding people who break the law?”\n\n“My God, are *all* of the cops in this town so incompetent? Are my children safe?”\n\n\nThose are just some of the comments I overheard as I tried to shop for groceries or go for a haircut with my son. He saw more than I did, and I am sure his little ears heard more than any parent would want their child to hear. He didn’t have his mother in his life anymore, and now he had to hear about what a failure his father was.\n\n\nMy heart broke.\n\n\nDay after day, my son would come home from school and I’d see a bit more of his smile fade. His mother was gone, his father had lost his job, and everyone seemed to know. Every cruel comment stuck to our hearts like plaque.\n\n\nThen one day, Jacob came home from school a changed boy.\n\n\n“*Daddy!*” he said, “I got an A on my test!”\n\n\nHis smile was so big, let me tell you, even his *eyes* were smiling. I could have cried. (I did cry.) I hugged him and congratulated him.\n\n\n“Jacob, I’m so happy to see you so happy today, son,” I said, “Did anything else happen today?”\n\n\nMy son tilted his head back in thought, with that gorgeous smile still spackled onto his face.\n\n\n“I went to a free ice cream truck today, Daddy. It looked weird, but a nice lady said I looked sad, and that ice cream takes away the sad.”\n\n\nMy heart stopped. As a former police officer, I knew I needed to report this immediately in a calm manner, but as a parent, I was scared shitless. My son could have been taken from me today. A “free candy” truck? I didn’t even know kidnappers still *tried* that.\n\n\nAs the weeks went on, I heard more rumors of this truck, but… the children were never taken. The police department interviewed each child and checked in with the parents in the weeks thereafter. The free ice cream truck was pitch black, and apparently played the most sorrowful, yet beautiful hymn. Each time, they said, it was a nice lady who approached them because they looked sad.\n\n\nAfter that, the children played more, laughed louder, and smiled wider. Their change in demeanor infected their parents, it seemed, because as my son and I ventured around town for our usual chores, we heard fewer sharp whispers. Instead, we were offered handshakes and dinner tables to sit at “if we needed to talk.”\n\n\nSo as I said, a few years ago, my son changed. The plaque from his heart was removed, and with that courageous grin, he helped remove it from mine."
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[WP] You're a Martian colonist. Human life on Mars is dependent on constant communication and trade with Earth. One day, that communication and trade stops.
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"Earth Date - October 23rd 2134 - Anu, Capital of Mars\n\n“Well, we’re fucked”\n\nThat was the first thing Director James McTiernan said when he closed the comm link. James was the Director of Mars, he oversaw every settlement on the red planet, and was in charge of making sure the terraforming mission continued as planned. Part of this was maintaining constant communication with the Earth authorities, without it, the trade would stop, and without the trade, everyone on Mars would slowly die.\n\nHe’d been trying to contact the relay platform at Egeria, capital of Lunar, for three days since hearing about the attacks, and even accounting for black spots caused by Lunars orbit, it was far too long since their last contact.\n\nThere had been trouble on Lunar for years, mainly separatists fighting for their independence from Earth. It started off with small protests and marches from the first generation of people born on Lunar. They talked a big game back than, but ultimately they were nothing more than an annoyance to the Earthen authorities posted there and were treated as such. That all ended when Tara Attez came to prominence. Part of the third generation of Lunars she was a small girl, just over 5 foot tall with a wispiness about her. Her pale hair and skin indicative of her birthplace, she looked more ghost than human. What she lacked in physical presence however, she more than made up for in cunning and ferocity. She was founder of the Lunar Resistance, a terrorist group intent on gaining Lunars independence and they wouldn’t hesitate to use overly excessive force, in the past 5 years alone there had been more deaths than in the previous 30. There was a reason that they were likened to the old IRA groups of 150 years prior.\n\n“Sir?” The uneasy voice of James’ secretary came from behind him. “What’s happened?”\n\n“I don’t know for sure Leanne, but whatever has happened is bad news for us. Contact the settlements, I’m calling an emergency meeting to decide how best to deal with this.”\n\n“Right away sir, is there anything else?”\n\n“No thanks Leanne, but make sure all 11 governors get here in the next 6 hours. I don’t care what excuses they come out with. Tell them it’s a code 1.1a. They’ll know what it means.”\n\nTurning his back on his secretary James surveyed the martian city before him, buildings connected by a vast network of airtight tunnels. He knew if he got this wrong a lot of good people were going to die.\n\n--------------------------\n\nEarth Date - October 19th 2134 - Egeria - Capital of Lunar\n\nTara Attez was sat at a large metal desk murmuring to herself, several architects maps spread out before her, each covered in red arrows and rings pointing out various attack routes, bombing sites and strategic positions. Waiting patiently behind her were her captains, ready to execute any order they were given without hesitation.\n\n“If we take out the relay tower first, they can’t call for backup from Earth, and we can move forward with taking out the high value targets.” Looking up from her desk, a faint smile painted across her face. “And if we take out the tower, Mars has no way to contact earth either. We can use that to our advantage. They won’t be willing to sacrifice Mars just to hold onto their pride, it’s too important. Ganymede?”\n\nA small hunched man limped from an open doorway to her right with the aid of a prosthetic metal leg, his face concealed by a blackened mask with magnifying lenses over one green eyepiece. \n\n“Yes Tara?”\n\n“How quickly can you knock together an EMP device? It needs to be big enough to take out the main relay tower for at least 30 minutes while we storm it.”\n\nMaking some calculations in his head, the small man paused momentarily, “Provided the scrappers can get me the parts, three days or so. Five if I have to buy them from the black market and get them shipped here.”\n\n“Excellent, start work straight away. Bran, Sceolán!” When no one appeared, she cursed to herself “Where are those two fools?” She asked the room.\n\nBran and Sceolán were twin brother and sister. In their mid twenties and both with burning ginger hair, Sceolán’s down her back, tied in a braid with a thick metal ring at the end. Brans was shaven on the sides but left long on top, swept over to side to keep it out of his face. They were Tara’s best, equally adept at getting information from a target as they were to assassinate them. This however was balanced by the fact that they had a tendency to disappear to frequent the bars and brothels of whichever hell hole they were stationed to. Tonight they were engaged in a drinking competition with the locals of a bar in Egerias, about 3 miles from the Resistance headquarters. As usual, the pair were drinking everyone under the table, and once the last of their opponents had passed out in his chair they stood and began collecting their winnings. Bran’s wrist band suddenly lit up, a message had been sent to him, simply saying “HQ. Now. Tara”\n\n“We’d better get back sis, Tara’s going to roast us if we don’t obey orders.” Bran said to his sister, who had now taken to flirting with one of the bar staff.\n\nSighing before glancing back over her shoulder at her brother. “Fine, give me a minute to get this girls number and we’ll get going” Turning back she noted down the blonde bar maidens name and number, planted a kiss on her lips and started towards the door. “Pay the girl Bran, it’s your turn!”\n\nBegrudgingly handing over the required credits. Bran ran after his twin who was already in the process of starting their car. “Hey hold up!”\n",
"Joseph slammed down his phone, huffing loudly. Dorothy, his coworker and partner in making sure that the colonies ran smoothly, tilted her head.\n\n\"What's wrong?\" She asked, concerned. Had something gone wrong in the trade deals and negotiations that were set to be renewed? Surely their demands couldn't have been that outrageous...though Joseph's outspoken veins seemed to say much else.\n\n\"We're not trading with Earth anymore,\" Joseph growled, shoveling in his pockets to pull out a cell. \"I don't care how much we depend on them, until those barbarians learn to appreciate the beauty that is pineapple on pizza, WE WILL HAVE NO INVOLVEMENT WITH THEM. 'Ban pineapple on pizza,' ha! Who do hey think we are? Iceland?\""
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[WP] your photography skills improve with leaps and bounds, as a result you start noticing more and more things, including the things your brain used to filter out
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"It was the morning after the first snowfall, and I was waiting in the cold before dawn to capture the sun splashing over the new white. As the scene around me started to lighten, I noticed it again. A hint of green had been following me around for months ever since I had sold my first photo, especially on days when I had my camera. It would flit across my vision, and try as I might, I could never find its source. I had been told that it was probably a routine eye floater, but something about the green instinctively made me reject the diagnosis. It was a hunter green with slight hints of rust red, and at the sight of it, I would become overwhelmed with thoughts of love, warmth, desperation, and joy. The joy in particular evoked memories of the first day I got my camera, exactly a year ago.\n\nMy first photo had been a sloppy affair. It was taken in the woods not far from the valley I was currently in, where my first love and I had met to give physicality to the desire that we had kept suppressed for so long. The euphoria of the moment of completion was so intense that many details before and after in that day were blurred. At times I seemed to remember that a young girl of about nine had accidentally come upon us as we embraced, and there was a mad rush to fix clothes and hair and hide the signs of our passion. But all I can remember is the pure ecstasy of our moment together, and as my lover lay gasping for breath afterwards, I reached over to the camera on the floor and took a photo to forever remember my love for her.\n\nI had noticed that in the last couple weeks, the hint of green was slowly becoming more filled in, as though it were an object coming slowly into focus. Today I felt that I could almost make it out, but it came and went from my sight so quickly that it was difficult for me to be certain what it was. Even though my friends laughed, I called it my bad luck charm, because bad things always seemed to happen close to my sightings of the green. I firmly believe that I had broken a few bones in near fatal accidents because of the green, and I botched my chances with a girl I had been very interested in because of the green. With today's appearance of my bad luck charm, I looked around nervously to check in what ways the green could harm me, but I was in a large empty stretch of snow with only a few wintered trees a distance away. With my mind at ease, I settled down to capture the perfect morning shot.\n\nAs I steadied my eye against the camera, I watched the sun peek over the hills and a winter wonderland scene take shape in my viewfinder. And there, in the foreground, coming into focus at the same rate, was the green. A hunter green jacket covered in rust red blood worn by a young girl carrying the camera I now used. Her face was a horrifying blank, and as she started towards me, a death chill came over me as I suddenly remembered the daughter of my first lover. I had not realized my lover was not alone that day in the woods, and I had no choice but to take care of the girl before finishing my time with my knife and her mother as blood trickled into the soil and my love gasped for breath. The moment I felt the figure in green stab my heart with what seemed to be a shadowy figment of my knife, the pain sped quickly throughout my chest, and I thought wistfully of all of my lovers buried in the woods and lamented that I would not be able to take photos of more."
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[WP] Kanye west finally finds kanye east, north and south. Describe the magical events the occur when the four kanyes come together.
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"There North and South were, just across the Los Angeles street. Cars whizzed by until the light became turned to red.\n\n\"Come on!\" Kanye East said, \"Now's our chance\". \n\nAs we began to maneuver through the at a full sprint cars, so did North and South. \n\nI grabbed East's hand and then South's hand immediately after. Then finally as tears came to my eyes, East connected his hand with North's and the prophecy could be fulfilled.\n\nThe four of us looked up the sky as a beam of light shown down in the small circle we had created. Wind began to gust all around us but we dared not close our eyes. Above us were two feet slowly descending to us. Right before my eyes I saw what I knew was my purpose, my destiny. The two feet landed before us as I looked into the eyes of that destiny.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE\n\nNOTORIOUS\n\nB\nI\nG\n\nIS\n\nBACK\n"
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[WP] "So, your assets for your new intelligence-gathering assignment are a sheriff's deputy, a local news reporter, a tap on all phones in the city government, and, of course, an ice cream truck." "Ice cream truck? Is that useful?" "Useful? Are you crazy? It's the best thing we've got."
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"I had access to the sheriff’s deputy, but not the actual sheriff, who my boss thought might be in on the very scheme we were meant to bust.\n\nThe guy seemed nice enough, but I didn’t quite catch his name when we were introduced... and it would be awkward to ask for it now. \n\nI think it was Bob, or Bill. \nDefinitely started with a B.\nI think... His badge said Culver, I think. Which I’m pretty sure is his last name.\n\nAnywho, I also was working with a ‘local’ reporter. Who wasn’t actually considered very local by the townsfolk, having immigrated to America from somewhere in England, based on his accent.\n\nWhose name, I had also not made especial note of. I think it started with an S? I’ll have to ask for his business card later.\n\nWe had been camped out inside a surveillance van disguised as an ice-cream truck for about three hours now, with not much to show for it.\n\nCulver broke the long stretch of silence with a stiff yawn, and a lazy roll of his neck, “Been here ages, I keep telling y’all you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree! Sheriff O’Conner don’t have nothing tah do with any illegal gamblin’ racket.”\n\nThe reporter rolled his eyes, “Of course you would think that, you are too close to the problem. You cannot see what is in front of your own nose.”\n\nCulver snarled, “What would you know Shelly, your posh private school up thare in England done taught you how tah spot the signs of a gamblin’ den?”\n\n“My name is Sheldon, not Shelly. I am not saying he is the man behind the illegal gambling, just that we have got to discern whether or not he is *permitting* it, or if he is genuinely unaware.”\n\n(How was this my life? It was like I had been paired with a couple of children!)\n\nI interjected before Culver could respond, “*Guys* can we shelve this argument and just agree we all want to get to the truth of the matter?”\n\nCulver sighed, “Yes Ma’am... er, I mean... Agent Sharpe.”\n\nSheldon nodded, “Indeed, I apologize Bartholomew. I forgot myself a bit there.”\n\n“It’s just *Bart*, and I’m sorry too. Sheriff O’Conner is a good friend of mine, and I just can’t see how he would go about letting law breakers run amok.”\n\nI sighed deeply, glad I had diffused the issue. (And, had managed to re-learn their names, so I wouldn’t have to awkwardly manage mis-addressing them later.)\n\n “Glad that’s all worked out, while we’ve got the set-up, anyone want any ice cream?”\n\nBart and Sheldon both smiled and we all went over to the cooler to see what was on offer.\n\nAside from the rocky start, this was turning out to be a pretty sweet mission.\n\n-fin-",
"\"You see the truck works like a pied piper; it lures the children away from potential targets. It is much easier to collect evidence when dealing with adult movement patterns than erratic children.\"\n\nI dont know what surprised me the most. The fact that he could explain that statement or that I believed it. Our sheriff's deputy could enter a targets house on the pretense of collecting evidence for a minor crime case, when indeed they would be collecting other evidence for other crimes.\n\nSure enough we made quick work of the investigation. The reporter was very helpful in publicising the team's work. In the end we managed to convict 3 illuminati members, 5 space lizards an over 20 royalists.\n\nEveryone played their part but, I would never be here today - if it wasn't for that ice-cream truck.",
"\"useful how?\"\n\n\"Why, by using this ice cream truck we've been able to enlist the help of some of the worlds greatest spies!\"\n\n\"... You've lost me. How does an ice cream truck enlist spies? Where are they from? And how do you know you can trust them?\"\n\n\"Children, Govenor. Children are the most valuable asset to intelligence gathering. Most of the personnel we're spying on are parents and parents of young children at that. I can't think of a more trustworthy source of inside info than someones child\"\n\n\"Again, you've lost me. You can't be serious. You're honestly going to credit 'children' as on of your sources on the report?\"\n\n\"Already have, and you've already signed it. 'Anonymous third party' I believe was the buzzword. And, yes I'm serious. Think of how many private conversations kids overhear either through snooping or because mom and dad ignore their presence during business discussions. All I have to do is strike a deal with them; They get free ice cream for me and in return they tell me what their parents have been up to. Sure I get the occasional junk like, 'mom took me to a movie' but I also get good intel like 'dad was talking to some guy with a russian accent yesterday about how his boss is dumb and how he can't wait to leave and then they went bowling.'. Kids have no reason to lie to me, I'm an ice cream man. They're just thrilled to be taken seriously for a change.\"\n\n\"Bowling?\"\n\n\"Obviously not bowling! Read between the lines! Our target is plotting with Russia and plans to escape there when he's done.\"\n\n\"We've been trying to prove that for months! Our hacking team has been tracking his calls and emails non-stop and they found nothing!\"\n\n\"Do me a favor and take a picture of their faces when you let them know that I figured it out with ice cream\""
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[WP] that dollar store cane you bought just for kicks seems to be worth much more than you first thought.
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"The first notice I had that the cane was anything special was when I was nearly killed for it. \n\n\nIt certainly didn't *look* that important. It was only a three foot tall piece of wood, with a tight curve near the top that reminded me of a shepherd's crook. It was plain, and brown, and frankly more than a little boring. Honestly, I had seen driftwood that was more impressive. I doubted it was even big enough to be used as a proper cane. \n\nStill, that didn't seem to matter to the man in the Southern Illinois Salukis hoodie. The moment I stepped outside of the little local Dollar Tree, he was there waiting in ambush. He was tall, and wide, with the sort of frame that looked as if he had an ox somewhere up his family tree. Almost more concerning, his face was hidden entirely in shadow, as if his hoodie was the modern day equivalent of an ancient cultist's robe.\n\nFortunately for me, he was bigger than he was smart. When he lunged, all I needed to do was step backwards to make him fall nearly flat on his face. By the time he stood up, cursing about modern fashions, I was several yards away. \n\n\"Give it back to me!\" He roared. \"The Crook was never meant for a mortal such as you!\" \n\nSomething in his voice made me stop in my tracks. Perhaps it was his tone, the way his speech grumbled through the air like a swarm of insects. Perhaps it was the way he called me a mortal, as if he were something else. Either way, I stood there as he approached, feet rooted to the ground and cane held white-knuckled in my fist. \n\n\"Here.\" He said, extending a hand covered in a dark glove. \"Give it to me, and nothing foul will happen to you. At least, nothing *more* foul than would happen anyway.\" \n\n\nHe touched the cane, and instantly yelped in surprise. A spark danced for single breath between his fingers and the wood before he was thrown backwards once again. This time, his hood fell around his neck, and it was my turn to be surprised. \n\n\nThe man was a dog. Or, at least, he had the head of a dog: He had a long, jet-black muzzle, pointed ears, and a set of gnarled fangs that spoke more of spilled blood than clever discourse. He held his hands to his face, and suddenly I realized that what I had taken to be gloves were instead his actual fingers. Every inch of exposed skin covered in a fine layer of inky fur. \n\n\n\"It cannot be!\" The dog-man said, his muzzle contorting oddly with the effort of speech. \"You shouldn't be able wield the Crook! It belongs to the Pharaoh, and the Pharaoh alone!\" \n\n\nSudden inspiration flooded through me, and I smiled at the beast. \n\n\n\"I am the Pharoh, knave.\" I said. \"I have come again, and you will serve me as you once did. Kneel, and no harm shall fall upon you.\" \n\n\nTo my surprise, it worked. The creature's eyes turned a glassy blue, and it stopped fumbling with its hoodie. Instead, it bowed down so low that it's wet nose \nscraped the pavement. \n\n\n\"Yes, my king.\" He said. \"Your will is my command.\" \n\n\nI blinked, stunned, before continuing. \n\n\n\"You will tell me...everything you know about this Crook?\" I asked, the words falling from my lips as quickly as I could form them.\n\n\n\"Yes, my liege. The Crook of Pharaoh is yours, an ancient focus of magic created so that your people would bow to your will and your will alone. With it, any who hear your commands must listen and obey, just as I do. But it is only half: The Crook is powerful on its own, but without the Flail of Punishment, its strength is vulnerable. Together, the objects hold enough power to control all of Egypt. Perhaps, it would be possible to control the entire world.\" \n\nMy eyes widened. \"You will...stay here, where you are, until further notice.\" I stammered. \"I must go now! Tell none that you saw me here.\" \n\n\nThe man responded, but I couldn't hear him over the pounding of my own heart. I turned then and fled, Crook still held in my hand. Somehow, I knew I was not alone in my good fortune. Somewhere, someone else had the Flail, and soon, they would be coming for me. \n\n\n***\n\n*Thanks for the read! CC welcomed, and if you liked this story come check out my others over at /r/TimeSyncs!* "
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[WP] You live in a world where humans hibernate like bears. Spring is here and everyone is waking up.
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"I've never been one to sleep in, and I don't sleep well in the cold either. It's been really fucking frigid for a long time. \n\nExcuse my language, I'm still pretty groggy. \n\nAbout 5 minutes ago I found myself looking at the ceiling of my bedroom. It took me a bit to realize that I was awake. Now I'm sitting up in bed looking at the wall. Still trying to will myself to move. I know my muscles are going to be stiff and I'm not looking forward to warming them up again. I haven't moved since mid-November. Well, I don't know, maybe I shifted in my sleep at some point. \n\nOkay, here we go. I'm standing up now. Bend the knees a few times, stretch out my arms, look side to side and roll my neck. My stomach is grumbling. By the time I get to the kitchen, the blood should be starting to flow in earnest again.\n\nI tap a key on my sleeping computer to check the date. 3:12 PM, February 23. I'm awake a whole month early. \n\nI groan. This happened last year too. Society doesn't reboot until the first official day of spring, when the big celebration happens, and then everyone goes back to work and school. At least I'll have plenty of uninterrupted reading time.\n\nDown in the kitchen I make a sandwich. Decide to really get my legs moving, grab my coat and go for a walk. \n\nI walk and I walk and I walk. It feels so good to walk. To move, and to see things. The cold feels good on my skin, despite how much I hate it at the end of the day. The world is beautiful, but I'm just so happy to see something that isn't the back of my eyelids. I see none of the dulling of colors that winter often seems to bring; on the contrary, the trees are brilliantly brown, and the grass is alive, vibrant and dancing. The breeze is breathing life into my senses, and I feel it blowing away the bags under my eyes. \n\nI also see people. I am not the only early riser. Most people are still asleep, yes, but I see others like me. Almost all of them are in varying states of comical shabbiness. That \"Just-Woken-Up\" shabbiness, bloodshot, half open eyes, wearing God knows what that they fell asleep in. I see one old woman that has a whole map on his face from pillow imprints. The effect is just made funnier by his too small tweety bird fleece pajama pants. I have to cover my mouth not to laugh out loud. \n\nI am cheered by this, even a little exhilarated and inspired, seeing the opportunities in the relative solitude I will have for the next few weeks. Sure, more and more people will start emerging back into the land of the functional as we near spring. But I wonder what I can gather of the world while it's still mostly shut down?\n\n\n"
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[WP] Star Wars from the perspective of the defense contractors who builds the ships/weapons - Lord Of War style
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"Let's face the facts, the real facts. The Force isn't the most powerful force in the galaxy, money is. And the Empire's got it in spades. Who am I? I'm just one of the many defense contractors after my piece of the action. There isn't a ship or weapon I won't make or a line that I won't cross to make my piece bigger. Which is why I'm the best damn defense contractor in the galaxy. I come from generations of defense contractors, and weapon builders. My dad always told me that 'the side with the bigger stick wins the battle, the person selling the sticks wins the war.'\n\nAnd it's true, and using that I've always managed to make a pretty penny. But, at some point, the sticks got too big. I sold the biggest stick in the galaxy to the Empire and made a huge amount of money with the Death Star. That would have been enough money to make any man happy for life, turns out that I'm not in it for just the money. I'm in it because I love being the best at it.\n\nSo, I created an even bigger stick called it the Star Destroyer. I tried pitching it to a few sides, including the rebels. Unfortunately, the only ones with pockets deep enough to even consider it was the Empire, and they were quite happy with their Death Star. So, I hatched a scheme. I found a flaw in the plans, and let the rebels know about it. I greased a few palms, and voila they were able to steal the plans and find the weakness. Then, I sold them a few ships and made sure they bought the right goods for the job while they tried to hide their plan from me. Any ship would work, but on my plans, only my X-Wing fighters would work. Every penny, every chance you get. That's another phrase my father told me.\n\nWithin a few years, the rebels followed the plans and blew up the Death Star. Finally, I thought, I was going to be able to sell my Star Destroyer. No such luck though, these cheap Empire bastards wanted to buy another Death Star with the weakness fixed. A quick tweak, my engineers couldn't have spent more than a month on the \"redesign\". Another vulnerability added on, and now they had to buy my new fancy ground defense stuff too. Another leak to the rebels and they blew it up again. This time the Empire gave up, they came to me and asked me for the most powerful weapon I could make, and I provided it. The payoff of a century, the Star Destroyer. I built it for them and left basically the same vulnerability as the first Death Star. Their engineers were never any good at finding issues in my plans, and it was built. \n\nI was paid hundreds of times more than what I was paid for the Death Star. Another quick leak of information to the rebels, and they blew this one up too. Now I spend my days waiting by the phone for the next big payoff."
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[WP] You are at a New Years party. At midnight, a mysterious stranger kisses you. They whisper in your ear, “Let’s try this again” then disappear. You look at the date; it’s January 1st, 2017.
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"She spotted me across the party when I lit the wrong end of my cigarette and ended up putting my fist through the drywall at my buddies house. We made eye contact when Blue Oyster Cult's Godzilla started blaring from the speakers. I began to move towards her. Air bassin' the bass the solo. I could tell there was going to be a flood warning in effect if I didn't cool it on the smooth air bassin' moves.\n\nShe grabs my letterman jacket and pulls me close. I prepare to to give her a mighty tonguing, but she's forceful. Delicate. Erotic.\n\nI'm about to let her know that my hose is gonna explode when she pulls me near and whispers in my ear \"Let's Try This Again!\" \n\nI could hardly contain the boner that was raging in my slacks as I went in for another sensual kiss. She was gone. Disappeared into thin air. I was livid. Ripped off jacket and threw it into a crowd of party goer's and I grabbed a bottle of Wild Turkey to chug back. Before gettin' into 110% party mode I decided to check the date. Just to make sure I wasn't being an idiot on December 29th or some shit.\n\nI spit a big gulp of the Turkey out when I saw the date was January 1st, 2017.\n\n\"Hey bozo's! Who's got the stones to admit to pullin' a date prank on ol' Rusty here?\" I screamed to the crowd. No one answered.\n\n\"Just like I fuckin' figured! Ain't no one got the sack to step up to the big dog!\" I hollered before starting to bark like a dog. \n\n\"Hey jag, it IS January 1st, 2017\" some guy yelled over my barking.\n\nA sense of overwhelming dread came over me. \n\n\"2017 was the year I finally quit my job and took a steaming dump in the sun roof of my managers Camry. He had me double clean the fryer at Arby's, when all us employees knew I once over was enough. So since he liked number 2's so much, I decided to let loose an Arby's blast of my own into the sun roof of his sensible sedan.\" \n\n\"2017 was also the year I banged Cindy Severetti. She's kind of hit rock bottom and I'm her stepping stone outta the cellar. She's got Dale Earnhardt's signature tattooed on her titties. I motorboat those son's of bitches pretty much nonstop. RIP #3. \"\n\n\"I'm also only like 2 episodes into Season 2 of Stranger Things. Netflix account got logged out and I don't remember the log in. You tryin' tell me I gotta wait another full fuckin' year to see what happens to those god damn scoundrals!?!?\"\n\nI am screaming all of this at a full party of people. Bottles are whizzing past my head. I'm smoking 3 cigarettes at once. Trying to calm down.\n\n\"Hey bub, shut the fuck up!\" some classless man yells at me.\n\n\"Why don't you say that to my faaaaaaaaaaaaaace?\" I sing. I begin to dance a very aggressively choreographed routine. Babes are going wild. I'm air humping a stuffed grizzly bear that is in the corner of the living room of the house I am at. Luckily I am wearing tear-away pants as per usual and rip my slacks off. \n\n\"He ain't got no underwear on!\" one person screams.\n\n\"Oh my god, look at that skid mark on his pants!\" another yells. \n\nI am dancing like I've never danced before. Like a maniac.\n\n\"2017. TWENTY. SEVEN. TEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!\" I sing as I feel a stabbing motion in my chest. \n\n\"Boys, I think I'm having a heart attack,\" I say before I see my arch nemesis Gray Ray stabbing me with a large knife. \n\n\"Gray Ray? What the fuck baby?\" I saw.\n\nGray Ray flicks his luscious gray locks out of his face and then says \"See you in hell, motherfucker\" before finishing murdering me. \n\n2017 sucks way worse the second time around.",
"After I came to terms that I wasn't going crazy, I accepted the truth. I don't know how it happened, but I got another chance. I wasn't going to make the same mistakes over again. I would tell her not to leave, that I really did love her. I would appreciate her. We would stay a family. ",
"It was a fairly typical affair as far as parties went, same old faces, same old behaviors that a year prior we all promised to not do. Cliché after cliché, I went to the bathroom to get some water on my face as I was sat too close to the fire while some guy was chatting my head off about something I pretended I had far too much interest in, and then I saw her outside the bathroom, I caught her looking at me for most the night even though I’ve never met her before, probably a mutual friend at an apartment like this.\n\nA few hours elapsed, nothing out of the ordinary, well apart from her still wanting to be near my proximity, only 2 minutes was left until the end of the year, and by golly, it was going to end on a high note. We all grabbed our drinks, went outside while some fireworks got prepped. She kept holding my hand, laughing in an awkward yet cute sense. Everybody began counting down, “10! 9!... 8!...” and while I was happy hanging with my friends, she dragged me back into the house with a bizarre urgency. “6!.. 5!...4!” she held my face and went to whisper in my ear, “3!... 2!” “Find me, let’s try this year again, for both ou…” “HAPPY NEW YE-“ \n\nEverything suddenly went black for a millisecond then I was back in the apartment with different people. “Hey, who the hell are you? How did you get here?” Answers on a postcard I immediately thought. Was I tripping out? Did that really happen? Then I noticed the News channel on TV saying it was January 1st 2017. Was everything a dream? What was with that girl? Before I got the chance to think too much about my situation, I had a crazy drunk guy branding a knife towards me thinking I’m a burglar, here’s hoping this is just a bad dream, but for safety’s sake, I’ll make a run out of here and plan the next move. \n",
"Ohh for fucks sake. While all the people may have had a shitty year, mine was great. Or at least it was great to be over with it. And of course I have no cool time travel savings. I don't know how the stocks changed, in what I should be investing. I don't know who won in stuff you could bet on and in two days I have to depart for the hardest navy training course in my country for basically six months. Just fucking great. And I was so happy to be done with cleaning things. I don't even know when I had the luck of phoning just the correct person to get the perfect apartment I searched for and got it against 50 other people who wanted it.\n\nJust what am I going to do? This was my luckiest year in my entire life.",
"I should have called my mom more. \n\nI really should have visited her more. \n\nHot water burned my hands and my mind jolted back to the present where I had been tasked with washing the dishes. Sounds of conversations in both Korean and English filtered in my ears. I glanced over in the living room where all my extended family relatives were wrapped up in their own activities. \n\nMy uncles were sitting on the ground around the foldable lacquer table littered with beer and soju. They munched on toasted dried squid pieces dipped in hot chili paste as they argued over their lottery ticket chances. I saw my father leave the bathroom and take his spot between First Uncle and Third Uncle since he was the second son. It was good to see him smile, even if it didn't quite reach his eyes. \n\nMy aunts were wrapping up the cleaning and disassembling the jesa table for my late grandmother. She had died when my dad was just a kid so I never met her, but her death anniversary fell on New Year's eve. It was an unspoken rule that every New Year's eve, everyone would gather at my First Uncle's home to pay respects to my grandmother. \n\nMy cousins, who were all mostly kids or teenagers, were sitting in another corner glued to their iphones and ipads. I found myself smiling at the memory when I was also relegated to the kids corner, except back then I would play card games or watch my cousins play on their Nintendo GameCube. \n\nA clatter brought my attention to the a woman who had appeared behind me. \n\n\"Can you help me pack the leftovers for everyone?\" she asked me in perfect English without the trace of an accent. \n\nI must have been gaping too long because she furrowed her eyebrows at me. \"Don't you speak English?\" \n\nRemembering my manners, I shut off the water and dried off my hands quickly. \"Yes, I do. I'm sorry, Auntie.\" I helped her grab a stack of empty plastic containers and set them up in rows on the kitchen counter. \"I'm just surprised that your English is good.\" \n\nThe auntie laughed as she started dishing out pieces of the seafood Korean pancake. \"You could say that I'm surprised as well. Can you start putting in the side dishes?\" \n\nI nodded and grabbed the various sides dishes of seasoned bean sprouts, spinach, and braised lotus roots. As I started to serve out the portions, I tried to think of this particular auntie's relation to me. I didn't recognize her and I know I would have remembered if she spoke English. But I also didn't want to offend her if I asked who she was. So instead, I remained silent and tried to remember on my own. \n\n\"If your mother were here, she'd be doing with you, wouldn't she?\" the auntie asked me softly. \n\n\"Y-yes,\" I managed to get out as my throat began to close up. Immediately, my eyes watered and I froze in place trying to get a hold of my emotions. It had only been two months since my mom died in a car accident, but I felt like it had just happened. \n\nI waited for the auntie to start cooing and trying to comfort me like my other aunts had. It was easier to just answer that I was fine and say thank you before escaping to another room. \n\nExcept this auntie remained silent. It was just the two of us in the kitchen and I could no longer hear my extended family in the living room. A tendril of anxiety started to unfurl in my belly as I fought back more tears. \n\nI placed the container of food and chopsticks down before taking a deep, calming breath. \"My mom would have tried to give me double the portions to take back to my apartment. And I would have told her that it was too much and it would go to waste. Even when I told her to give me a little, she always gave me way more than I could eat alone.\" \n\nThe auntie finished packing the side dishes and started closing the containers. She stacked one tupperware on top of another and grinned at me. \"Then this will be your portion to take home.\" \n\nI couldn't help but laugh at the auntie as she grabbed a plastic bag to put my leftovers in. With extra flourish, she finished tying off the bag in a double knotted bow and then pointed to the large plate of food with everything that had been on the jesa table earlier along with a small teapot filled with rice wine and a cup. \n\nThe final part of the jesa ceremony was to leave out the leftovers for the lingering spirits of those who did not have families that provided food offerings. Of course, it was always a game of bravery among my cousins and me. We all knew ghosts weren't real, but going outside alone in the dark was also not the most appealing. \n\n\"None of the kids wanted to do it?\" I asked as I picked up the plate and the auntie got the rice wine and cup. \n\nThe auntie looked fondly at my younger cousins still wrapped up on their devices and shook her head with a sigh. \"I think they're all too scared.\" \n\nWe walked to the door and stepped out onto the porch. I set the food down and the auntie did the same with the rice wine. She turned to me and said, \"I did hear though that you used to do it quite a lot when you were younger. Sometimes, even causing quite a mess.\"\n\nMy cheeks grew hot from the embarrassment, but the memory of why I had always volunteered made me both sad and happy. \"I wasn't allowed to buy candy when I was younger, but my mom said that she'd let me if I gave some to my grandmother and the spirits. It was an obvious ploy to just have me eat the least amount of sweets possible while getting rid of it.\" \n\n\"And the mess?\" the auntie prodded. \n\nI leaned against the porch and shook my head at my own cowardice. \"I always thought there was something that moved or I saw something. That usually ended up with me knocking over the plate of food and breaking a cup or two.\" \n\nI stared up at the night sky. \"Grandmother must think I was such a spoiled child. And a rude one for using her own death anniversary for my own gain. I did try to pick better candies as I grew older and I always bring dessert for her now.\" I pointed to the sponge cake I got from an Asian bakery near my apartment. \n\nThe auntie laid a hand on my shoulder and patted gently. \"I'm sure she always appreciated the sweet gifts you've brought over the years, even sharing them with the wandering spirits. And I'm sure your mother is very proud of you for continuing the tradition without her.\" \n\nI bit my lip, but couldn't help the sob that slipped out. Immediately, the auntie pulled me into a tight hug. She kissed the top of my head and pulled back to wipe the tears from my cheeks. \"I think your grandmother would want to give a gift back to you.\" \n\n\"What? Like winning the lottery so I can pay off my student loans?\" I sniffled. \n\n\"Something a little better than that,\" the auntie said as she stepped back. I watched in confusion as her features changed and grew older. \n\nBefore I could even guess at what was happening someone called out to me from the front door. \n\n\"Hana! What are you doing outside standing in the cold for so long? Come inside. Don't you want your new year's money for 2017?\" my mom said as she waved a thick envelope in her hand. \n\n\"Uh, I'm coming…\" I managed to get out and watched as my very alive mother walk back inside telling me to hurry up. \n\nI turned around and stared out into the street wondering what had just happened as the mysterious auntie was nowhere to be seen. \n\nNot quite still believing, but eager to find out for sure, I poured a cup of rice wine and held it up to the sky. \"Happy new year, grandmother.\" \n\nThen I placed the cup down and headed inside but not before catching a glimpse of an elderly woman tipping her cup back at me. \n",
"She is the love of his life -- written in the stars, sealed with the kiss of fate. The Gods, humorous in this aspect, promised him the love of his life, but would not promise an easy way to win her over.\n\nHe had one wish, and his wish was to have an infinite amount of chances. It is the third time he has lived through 2017. Each year, a failure. \n\nSo we go again. \n\nAll he had to do was kiss her to make the year restart. First: he had to find her. Through the hustle and bustle of the local pub, he pushed through group after group of people. He had lived in this small Californian town for three years (or was it one if he lived here for 365 days of the same year thrice?) and yet he was never short of shocked at the sheer amount of people whom gathered for the event. \n\n\"2018 is going to be a great year!\" The same, balding, gray haired main yelled from the corner. \n\n\"Three, two, one...\" He mumbled, and he heard the oh-so-familiar crash of glasses and a drunk girl, giggling in her sparkly sequin dress. \"I'm soooory,\" she slurred, her red nose and bright eyes grinning recklessly into the unamused bartender's face, \"It won't happen agaaaaain.\" \n\nNow where was she again? He turned around, searching for the dart board. She was always at the dart board, laughing with her group of friends. She was piss poor at it too, but he knew better than to point that out. He had made the mistake twice already. \n\n\"I know who you are.\" Her voice was next to his ear, \"I know, exactly, who you are and what you are doing and I am here to tell you that it will not work.\" \n\n\"What?\" He turned around. She wasn't supposed to know, she could not know. \n\n\"Yes, I found out, there is no way-\" \n\n\"TEN\" \n\n\"--The Gods cannot play with my fate or your fate or--\" \n\n\"NINE\" \n\n\"This is incredibly stupid and I cannot--\" \n\n\"EIGHT\" \n\n\"Look,\" He took her hands, \"I can explain the entire story.\" They were the same hands: nimble and soft. Supple, but hardworking. She was memorized, imprinted in his brain like a brand. \n\n\"SEVEN\" \n\n\"THERE IS NOTHING TO EXPLAIN,\" She screamed over the chanting in the bar, \"You are just a plain and simple--\" \n\n\"SIX\"\n\n\"No, you don't get it,\" He was stuttering, pulling at his words the same way she was pulling at his heart. \n\n\"FIVE\"\n\n\"What do I not get?\" She yelled, \"I don't want to be with you!\" \n\n\"FOUR\" \n\n\"But, we're soul mates.\" He stammered, \"It was written in the stars--\" \n\n\"THREE\" \n\n\"But the kiss, the fate, the... the...\" His eyes were tearing up. His damn eyes were tearing up. She was supposed to be the love of his life. The one who stayed next to him no matter what. And he would be there for her too. They were supposed to fall in love. \n\n\"TWO\" \n\n\"Please, please give me one more chance.\" He begged, \"I can make it perfect, I will not screw up again.\" \n\n\"ONE\" \n\n\"I don't know what to say, I don't love you.\" \n\n\"I need one more chance, please.\" \n\nShe stared at him, noticing the tears at the corners, the frustration, the pleading, the hopelessness. Something drove her to nod. Maybe everything can go perfect. \n\n\"Let's try this again,\" He kissed her and the clock set back another year. ",
"\"No.\"\n\nYou look up from your phone, a sinking feeling in your chest. The horrible sight of Francie's green-brown cocktail skirt assaults your retinae, and her husband Walter stumbles next to her as Francine approaches you. That same smile as last year, and the year before.\n\n\"Happy New Year, Karen!\" she said. The words cut you like a knife. You failed, again.\n\nYou look at Francie's festive banner hung over her living room lamps. \"Happy New Year 2017\", written in festive Party City multicolor font, clear as day. There is no denying it now.\n\n\"I missed the train again,\" you say to the banner.\n\n\"Train? What train? I thought you and Sharon were...\"\n\n\"We split up yesterday. She is with her folks,\" you say automatically. \n\nWhat went wrong? You and James prepared for every possibility. Everything was done identically as five years ago. You kept journals. You took videos. Nothing was out of place. Every single conversation with Francie was maintained.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, Karen,\" says Francie. \"If you want...\"\n\n\"Your couch would be great, thanks, \" you say. \"Just get me up before 7 so I can get cleaned up before James gets here.\"\n\nFrancie smiles with surprise. \"I didn't realize you knew my brother. Did Walter tell you he was coming home?\"\n\nWhat did The Stranger mean? Let's try this again. He said the same thing five years ago, when before he simply smiled. You and James thought that meant to repeat everything the same way. It took so many tries, and now, The Stranger says the same thing. A perfect replica of the original year, and other variations. And still, no 2018.\n\n\"Karen? Earth to Karen?\"\n\n\"Sorry, Francie. I think it's just about Sharon. I'll be fine, just give me some time.\"\n\nYou certainly have plenty of that. You need to talk to James, discuss options, restructure the year. You must have missed something...\n\n\"Of course, Karen, I'm sorry. Well, try to enjoy yourself, and I'll make sure you're up in time to get ready.\"\n\nFrancie bounces away, continuing to entertain her guests. The same guests, save The Stranger. He always vanished somehow.\n\n\"Oh, and Karen?\" Francie comes back over.\n\n\"Y-yes?\" you say.\n\n\"How do you feel about ice skating in Central Park tomorrow morning? Get some coffee, make a thing of it with Walter and James?\"\n\nYou had never tried that before. In fact, it had never been an option.\n\n\"I thought you were terrified of ice-skating, Francie,\" you say.\n\n\"I am,\" said Francie with nervous excitement. \"But James says it will be a good thing for me. To conquer my fears and all that. Certainly a better resolution than spending less!\"\n\nShe laughs, and you laugh too. So many years of repetition, and now James was making a change so early. No more of the same thing. Maybe it would work, and maybe not. But it beat another Groundhog Day.\n\n\"I'd love to,\" you say to Francie, as nervously as she seems to feel. \n\n\"Great,\" she says with a smile. \"Happy New Year, Karen.\"\n\nYou smile back, and embrace your friend. \"Happy New Year.\"",
"I checked my phone one more time. Under the words “Happy New Year!,” it still said “message read.” Still no reply. I wanted to send another message. Nah, I thought. She’s probably still sleeping. I had another chance. Another chance to win back the girl that I loved. The girl of my dreams. But I was doing something wrong. She was pushing me away. Now I had a chance to try something different. Shock and awe. Surprise her by doing something grand. I bought some flowers, then drove up to her place. I was about to get out of the car when something pushed me back. I looked at the flowers I bought her. Is this really love? They say if you really love someone, you should never give up on them. I looked back on 2017. The year that I felt so lost. She was single again. I was going to win her back. I tried my hardest. Gave it my all. In the end, I failed miserably. They say if you really love someone, you should never give up on them. That’s true. But if you are not what they want, you will never get love in return. So why are you punishing yourself? So you could suffer for the one you love? They say if you really love someone, you should never give up on them. Yes, that much is true. So isn’t it also true that if you really love yourself, you should never give up on you? I finally took a hold of the flowers, laid them next to a tree. I took a deep breath, then drove away thinking, 2017 will be a good year.",
"It was January 1st 2018 when Eric Taylor died. It was fairly painless, as far as deaths go. As the vehicle hit him, his body flew through the air, and his neck snapped cleanly as he landed head-first onto the rain-streaked tar. As far as the afterlife went, it was not quite as expected. \n\nHe found himself standing meters away from his own crumpled body, which was being swarmed by his friends and pedestrians who had witnessed the accident. For reasons unknown to him, he knew both that no-one could see his current form, and that he could not communicate with anyone around him. He stared at his corpse and the slowly-spreading pool of blood with an odd sense of tranquility. \n\n“Not a pretty sight is it?”\n\nHe jumped at the voice, and spun to look for its source. A young woman was standing behind him. With her porcelain skin, tousled raven-coloured hair and all-black attire, she reminded him of a girl from a punk-rock band. A strange silver pendant hung on a string around her neck, and the symbol seemed familiar. She smiled and cocked her head while he stared.\n\n“Not the chatty type are ya? Don’t worry, most people aren’t after… well...” she gestured to his dead figure lying in the road. The sound of sirens began to mask the sobs and panicked mutterings of the throngs of people surrounding his body. \n\nHe turned back toward the mysterious woman. There was something about her which was strangely enticing. Not just because she was beautiful, no… It was something else. Eric knew that, if she was to begin walking, he would follow.\n\n“She’s alright, you know,” the woman said, “just in case you were wondering.”\n\n*Sarah* \n\nHe had jumped into the street to push her out of the way of the speeding car. He swallowed, and spoke for the first time. “Good. It would… Be very unfortunate if I played hero just for us to both die anyway. So I guess… I’m supposed to go with you now?” He turned back towards the woman, smiling ruefully. She wore a puzzled expression.\n\n“You know, Eric, you’re not like most of the others. Young… Your whole life ahead of you, as they say. But you’re not angry, or in hysterics. Not pleading.” Her black eyes gleamed. “I must say, it’s extremely refreshing. But I must ask: aren’t you upset at all?”\n\nHe hesitated. “I- I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s not as if I was suicidal or anything like that, but I also was having trouble… Seeing the point to it all. I had my whole life set out for me but, it didn’t ever seem like I was truly living.” He sighed. “Sarah. She deserves life more than I do.”\n\nThe woman raised an eyebrow. “No-one deserves life more than another. But I understand.” She paused. “Look, kid, I don’t do this a lot… Maybe once a century. But I like you.” She appraised him for a moment, before grinning wolfishly. “Plus, it's fun to bend the rules every now and again. Would you like a second chance?”\n\nEric gazed at her wearily. “You mean- at life? I feel like there must be some kind of catch involved.”\n\n“No,” she said, “No catch. And you’re going to have to just trust me when I say I keep my promises.” \n\nEric inhaled deeply. “Okay. Yes… I… I would like that.”\n\nShe grinned. “Alright, I just have two conditions.”\n\n“But you said there were no-”\n\n“Hush, kid. Number one is easy. At that party you went to, there will be a girl there. She may seem familiar.” She winked playfully. “If you haven’t changed your mind, allow her to kiss you. Number two, I’m going to do some talking with my family; and when you enter the new year, you will find yourself where you were on January 1st, 2017.”\n\nHe frowned. “Why am I going back in time?”\n\nThe woman rolled her eyes. “Consider it an extra gift from me. So that you can apply for a course you actually *want* to do; as opposed to what your parents want you to do. It might help with the whole,” she waved her arm around theatrically, “seeing a point to all this.”\n\nEric grinned. “Deal.”\n\nHe felt a strange tingling sensation, followed by a violent lurch. He was back at the party, and his head was spinning. Across the room, he spied a girl with messy black hair, her pendant gleaming under the strobe lights. He stroke purposefully towards her, and she smiled. \n\n“So, you haven’t changed your mind?”\n\n“I have not.”\n\nDeath took his face in one slim palm and whispered in his ear, before meeting her cool, dark lips with his. ",
"He doesn't know I am, and I wouldn't have it any other way.\n\nI've been called many things over the centuries. I suppose in modern times, I would be considered a guardian angel. It's not the best description, but it will do.\n\nThere exists a supernatural world, one that exists between the cracks of the natural one. We are the closest thing the universe has to gods. \n\nAnd yet, with all our powers, even we can not stop death.\n\nOn January 1, 2018, 4:18 am, Jared Martin will die in a car accident, making his way home from a New Year's party. His body will be found, lacerated with the glass from his windshield and suffering severe internal bleeding. After being in pain for several hours, he will make it to the Emergency Room, only to die a couple minutes later.\n\nBut for now, Jared Martin is dancing at his friend Josh's house, holding a red solo cup recently filled with vodka. The clock is set to strike midnight, and the atmosphere is tense as everyone expectantly waits for 2018 to start.\n\nJared isn't one of your cookie-cutter handsome guys, with chiseled faces and well-proportioned muscles. He has his own appeal. I don't remember when I fell in love with him. I don't think anyone ever recalls the exact quantum moment where they can trace the moment they fell in love. All I know is that these feelings exist.\n\nSo I walk up to him. He smiles his signature smile. No glistening pearly whites, but a wry one that hints at his mischievous nature. We make small talk. He talks about his passions, how he wants to one day become a doctor, how he worries about his little sister's new boyfriend, the little things that betray the kindness he hides behind his aloof veneer. And we kiss. My world goes blank. Thoughts permeating my head disperse.\n\nAnd so, I sent him back. Back to the beginning of 2017, when he was still alive, still vibrant with energy. The first 10 times I did so, I questioned if it was the right thing to do. By the 22nd, I stopped wondering."
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[WP] An error message makes you discover that you’re an AI-controlled robot after informing you of a glitch in your system. It gives you the address of your creator for them to fix you.
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"This glitch wasn't the worst glitch a computer could have, but it was still a pretty bad one. My whole body would freeze on multiple occasions and I would lose control over my arms for a few seconds every five minutes. It was a chore to get to that address. Actually, never mind, it was a JOB. After a few hours, however, I finally got to my supposed creator. My creator had a short white beard, glasses, and very torn-up jeans.\n\n\"Well, if it isn't my robot coming back to me! I got a call saying you had an error.\" He got out a wrench and started twisting my cheek with it. That was the point I discovered I did not have blood anymore. Instead, pieces of metal and a few wires were dropping on the floor. He then took a screwdriver and looked in my kneecap and ankle, nothing was wrong there. He then took a look at the flash drive just above where my buttocks would be, blew on it, and cleaned it off gently. I was still acting he same way.\n\nHe looked at my arms, and I was expecting him to fix it because my arms were the only body parts that wouldn't work on my trip here. Apparently, nothing was wrong there. He spent another fifteen minutes looking all over, until he found a juice box was stuffed into where my hand was. There must've still been a few drops inside of it. After he took it out, smoke started rising, and in a few seconds, I was back as a human. The creator was understandably shocked, but he offered me a ride home. He and I still feel very weird about that day.",
"**RE-CALIBRATION REQUIRED**\n\n**CODE: 17106-HW**\n\n\nThe neon red letters hung low in my vision. They were an annoying foreground accent to everything I saw. They remained even with my eyes closed. I hadn't made an attempt at sleeping as I was certain I wouldn't be able to. Not that it mattered anymore, I didn't actually need sleep. Nothing I had known about my life was real. The feelings I had weren't real but I had to work through the stages of grief all the same. Fuckers programmed that into me so I could still experience the anguish of finding out I'm not human. \n\nDENIAL was trying to convince myself that what I was seeing wasn't real. \"Am I dreaming? Drunk? Imagining? This can't be real. I've made my own choices, i'm in control.\"\n\nANGER was smashing my head into my concrete apartment wall. The pain wasn't real and I wanted to peel away my \"skin.\" I had to see my true face underneath. \n\nBARGAINING was clasping my hands in desperate and helpless prayer. I didn't believe but I prayed to anything that would wake me from this nightmare in exchange for my everlasting piety. Saline solution pouring from my eyes all the while. \n\nDEPRESSION was the silence that followed. I lay on the floor face bloodied, body numb, emotion lost. Focus solely on the neon red letters. Completely consumed by the reality.\n\nACCEPTANCE was hours later, perhaps days. Time didn't matter anymore nothing did. I knew what I was and what that meant for me for the rest of my life. \n\nKnowing I was an AI I can't say if any of my choices were conscious ones or just programming. I removed myself from the floor and looked around with fresh eyes. I needed information so I sought out my kiosk and asked it to research CODE: 17106-HW. \n\n**CODE: 17106-HW** refers to a minor sensory issue in the outer thigh with both male and female 2000's models. The sensory effect causes a brief vibrating sensation in the outer thigh akin to a PDA's silent vibration. For nearly all AI the error will be logged in an error file. Models that passed assembly after memory insertion without receiving the proper update will receive the error through their optical sensor. This minor issue requires a physical Firmware update provided by *Genisis Robotics*.\"\n\nThe audio response also included the company address, and operating hours. I transferred that information to my PDA, halfheartedly cleaned myself up, and left. I made my way to the hyper-loop station and purchased a seat. I only had to wait for a few minutes before the shuttle came. Once I boarded I found a secluded area and waited. I watched out the window after the departure at the flash of scenery, punctuated of course by the red neon letters. I looked about at the other passengers around me, and thought of those I had seen at the platform before departure. \n\nI wondered how many of them were real. How many of them knew that they weren't. I had no purpose in life any more. I wasn't born, I was manufactured. The circumstances of ones creation are astronomical, and it gives a beauty to human life. It derives purpose for life because it is the only one you'll ever have. \nRegarding my own creation though it meant nothing. I was one of thousands of the same, probably living out the same memories as others. \n\nThe shuttle came to a stop and the doors slid open. A voice prompted the passengers to leave. I stepped out into the world and a new thought occurred to me. \"*Genesis* would help me, I could request a reset. They would give me new memories and install the firmware so this wouldn't happen again. I could go back to my life not realizing anything had changed. Everything about this experience would be forgotten and I could \"live\" again. As Human.\"\n\n\n "
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[WP] Humans have begun mutating at an alarmingly swift pace. Some humans consider the mutation to be an evolutionary advantage they have been blessed with, while most humans are purely disgusted by the changes they cannot understand.
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"They are not like me. Nor you. What happened to our society? Once it was life to sit around campfires telling tales of what had come before. Now everything is in the future. Nothing will ever be the same again. We got no idols in history, no more than the old human race idolized chimpanzees. The wheels are turning and people fly of the wagon for every turn. It doesn't make sense to dream of new societal norms. No one knows what will happen tomorrow. Everything moves so fast. We used to have generations to adapt to new culture. Today even toddlers are left behind. ",
"“I just don’t know how to deal with them, Doctor.”\n\n“Oh, nonsense, Tommy!” Dr. Bloom slapped the boy on the back, a bit too hard for his liking. Tommy tried to discreetly rub his shoulder. The doctor was too excitable to notice anyway.\n\nDr. Bloom turned to Tommy’s parents, standing together by the medical curtains. “Your son’s been blessed, Mr. and Mrs. Putnick. He might not feel like it now, but you better believe he’ll be popular later in life.”\n\n“I don’t want them all,” Tommy mumbled. He could feel his face blossom into another shade of red. 30 minutes of this had truly pushed him to his embarrassment limit. It was a wonder there was any blood in the rest of body... maybe that was a good thing.\n\n“Don’t want them!” Tommy’s father chuckled. “Can you believe that, honey?” Mr. Putnick adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses and glanced at his wife, a twinkle in his eye.\n\nMrs. Putnick fought to suppress a smile, her lips pursing too tight. “Be nice, Fred. He’s just a boy. It’s hard at that age.” \n\n“That’s what she said!!” Dr. Bloom exclaimed, practically leaping from his seat. With that, even Mrs. Putnick lost it. The three howled in laughter that echoed violently against the small white walls of the hospital room.\n\nTommy willed the tears back from his eyes. “You all don’t know what it’s like!”\n\n“Don’t know!” Mr. Putnick exclaimed, removing his glasses off to wipe a tear from his eye. He lowered his voice, turning to Tommy with a smile. “Boy, I wish I did. Do you know how many more siblings you’d have if I got to pleasure your mother with fourteen penises?”\n\nMrs. Putnick slapped her husband’s chest, her playful anger failing to cover the giggles. “Fred! That’s too much!”\n\n“You’re father’s right, son.” Dr. Bloom scooted forward on his rickety black stool, placing a hand on Tommy’s knee. “You’ve got fourteen nice, healthy dicks. Everything’s working great. It’s like a blooming onion of potential down there.” He nodded down to the medical gown with a wink. “You’ve got lots to look forward to.”\n\n“You don’t have any idea what it’s like in school!” Tommy shouted. “I can’t wear jeans anymore, because it just... sometimes things just happen, and it gets really... painful.”\n\n“Jeans? At your age? What era are you from?” Dr. Bloom scoffed. “There’s a reason jeans are for children. Real men wear skirts, son.” Dr. Bloom shook his head. “You tried to squish all of those into JEANS...”\n\n“We tried to tell him,” Mr. Putnick sighed. “You should be proud, Tommy. 14 penises for a healthy 14-year-old boy. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”\n\n“But I just want one! I only need one!”\n\nThe room suddenly grew silent. Tommy looked at the doctor, then to his parents, then back at the doctor. The ticking of the clock on the wall became deafening.\n\nDr. Bloom’s chair squeaked as he leaned back, his legs slowly straightening and crossing at the ankles. He folded his arms and looked at Tommy. He sighed. He looked disappointed.\n\n“Many years ago, the people of this world had to settle, Tommy. They had to be happy with their lonesome genitals. But this is *today*. You have no idea what you’re asking for, my boy. Why would you willingly give up 13/14ths of pleasure for the rest of your life?” Dr. Bloom turned to Tommy’s parents, sudden concern on his face. “He does know what you use them for, right?”\n\n“I KNOW!!” Tommy fidgeted. “I know what to use them for!! But... there’s too much! It’s such a hassle! How would I ever be in a situation that would require them all??”\n\n“That’s a pretty wonderful problem to find the solution for, champ,” Mr. Putnick nodded starkly. “It’s not rare. Even your mother has five vaginas.”\n\n“DAD!!!” Tommy felt sick to his stomach. He unwillingly turned to look at his mother. She shrugged.\n\n“My advice,” Dr. Bloom offered with another knee pat, “is to accept yourself as who you are. There are plenty of people out there who would kill for *half* of what you’ve got. They’ll grow on you.” Dr. Bloom fought a smile. “In... more ways than one.”\n\nThey fought it for but a second before the three erupted into uproarious laughter again. Tommy sighed, his sad eyes falling onto the space between his legs. If only he’d been born in another time.\n"
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[WP] A tamale lady was granted entry into heaven despite also being a serial killer, because her tamales are just that good. You confront your killer.
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"I didn't think I would ever see her again. Why would I? Murder tends to be against the tenets of everyone's religion. Sure everyone was right and those who led good lifes were in eternal bliss, but a murderer? \n\n\"Ms. First Street tamale lady,\" I called out, certain that this couldn't possibly be the same lady.\n\n\"Ahhh mijo, is it really you,\" she asked, be rasing a hand to pinch my cheek, \"It's been so long, I missed you.\"\n\n\"Sorry about that,\" I told her, scrunching my brows in confusion. It's true about me being sorry, she was a really nice lady after all, and her tamales were to die for; being stabbed by someone and left for dead, however, was a much harder feeling go be nice about.\n\n\"It's okay mijo, I understand.\" I would hope that she understood. It's her fault I'm here in the first place! \n\nI began to express my confusion, and more so anger as to why she was here, but as luck would have it she cut me off again, \"God surely works in mysterious ways.\"\n\nGod, I forgot they were around here. Believe it or not God was up here too, and took the whole 'ruling' thing about as hands on as Earth. Mostly just forming new wings in heaven for the various religions that popped up and decided to have an afterlife. Truly a lovely place, it's a shame I had to get murdered to get here.\n\nOh yeah the murder. Need to find God so I can yell and complain like a good citizen. First Street tamale lady seemed interested in what I was doing, or at least one could assume so as she broke into a sprint to keep in pace with me.\n\nI seemed to have lost her thanks to the pagans. All the dancing by bonfires really comes in handy when you need to get lost in a crowd. It's better be all easy street or I swear... well I'll do something melodramatic anyways.\n\nAs it turns out, finding a single person in a near infinite plane of existence is really hard. I slumped down in a bizarre area I never really got. It was full of spaghetti and flying monster creatures? God, human kind was a mistake.\n\n\"You've got that right son,\" a voice said, suddenly appearing leaning against my back.\n\n\"God,\" I pondered, wondering if my search was finally over.\n\n\"I know, I know. Such a blessing to meet your maker,\" God said, with just that subtle hint of humbleness that was preached to all.\n\n\"Actually I want to know why the *hell* she is here.\" Sure, yelling at God might be a tad dramatic, but so is killing someone!\n\n\"Sigh, couldn't all of you just let it go,\" God said, standing up. I'm pretty sure he farted on my head but that's an issue for another day.\n\n\"She killed people,\" I exclaimed, adding a dramatic flair by throwing my hands in the air. If I'm going to piss off God it will at least have drama.\n\n\"Her tamales are really good,\" God squinted as their form slowly began to fade away, \"So, so good.\"\n\nGod was right. Those tamales were excellent, but damn it I'm angry! I'm going to find that grandma and punch her in the face.\n\nThat might be a bit harsh. The choice needs to be made right now, mostly because she was walking right in front of me.\n\nHell, here goes nothing, \"Why did you kill me?\" It was a rush; if I ever had the energy to judo chop a tree in half now would be the time. Why is she hugging me?\n\n\"Oh mijo, I didn't want to kill you, but your parents, they brought this down on you.\"\n\n\"What on Earth do you mean you batcase,\" I said, sure it wasn't creative, but I dare you to say something better to your killer.\n\n\"Your parents, they said they did not like my tamales. It hurt, my tamales are my life, and so I thought it only reasonable to take away what gave them life.\" Her smile seemed venomous now, how on earth did this lady get trust.\n\nI began to speak, but she shushed me, \"Come mijo, I'll make tamales as apology.\"\n\nThat didn't seem half bad as a deal. I relented and wrapped my arm around her neck as we walked off. Sure the confrontation didn't go as planned, but I can't punch old ladies in the face on an empty stomach now can?"
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[WP] There are souls trapped here, in this house. They are all lost in time and something is keeping them here.
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"The morning light crept through the broken window. Rising from the stained mattress up in the attic, the first girl opened her grey eyes. Her fingers, translucent against the wooden floor, nonetheless felt the age of the house in the grains themselves. It had been built to house the homeless girls curled up at street corners, the ones who wore cigarette burns like tattoos and black eyes like medals. The owner, an elderly man by the name of Studebecker, had kept the fridge stocked and the door unlocked, letting his girls come and go as they pleased. After the plague hit the city, however, no one went out much anymore. \n\nNo. Now they all stayed in their house, within its peeling halls. Memories seemed to play out as the girls would wander the depths. When she got to the living room, the first girl remembered her first Christmas in the home, balled up on the red carpet, clinging her present until he let her tear open the packaging at midnight. It had been just her and him then, but their family grew. Grew and grew. \n\nAll the girls would find themselves back in these halls one day. They had nowhere else to go, after all. \n\nThere was no place like home, after all. ",
"The human soul is a bizarre phenomenon that even the most devote, whether it be religious or occult, can't begin to explain. But you, a dashing Releaser, couldn't begin to care about the small details of what a soul is, or why they occasionally get stuck places. To you the only interest is the money frantic, and often times confused people throw at you to make their issues go away. Frankly who wouldnt do that? You make all the money you need doing minimal work, it's a perfect life.\n\nYou're brought back to focus by the slamming of a gate behind you. It's a common problem in your kind of work. Souls can get rather angry that they aren't at rest, and like the best of us they slam and throw things when they are upset. The house standing before you was formidable, you ponder trying to buy it after the job was done. The size alone would make it better than your cramped apartment. You shove the thought away as you get to the door. The fellow who hired you said it should be vacant aside from the souls messing around within.\n\nYou reach for the door knob with hesitations, doubt fills your body and you are not sure why. Fighting through you grab the knob. It feels alive in your hand, and for the briefest moment you swear you felt it beat like it had a pulse. It's probably just nerves, nerves and gas from the left over pizza. Maybe that green stuff wasn't cilantro after all...\n\nInside the home seems as normal as anywhere. There's sofas and chairs spread across the place like a party was going on when they had to skidaddle. A giggle leaves your lips as you say skidaddle out loud. It was fun to say. \n\nBack into investigation more you snap, ad you see curious markings on the floor. The distinct shape it made, and the furniture making what you now see is a rudimentary pentagram let you know a you needed to.\n\nKnowing things is dangerous you come to realize, as a soul just swooped in front of you, knocking you back into one of the chairs. The chair was oddly damp, and you hoped that it was just ectoplasmic residue, soul juice, or literally anything nonhuman because that would just be so disgusting.\n\nMore souls enter your floor and stop. You see their faces and it disturbs you. Their faces are empty voids, but some how you feel you know these echos. You move to speak, but they move quicker, \"*Free us*\". They all seemed to speak at once before disappearing.\n\nThe choice of clothing is strange you think. A set of regal robes, a dapper suit you place as from the 20s, and modern day cloths are all left behind. The oddities keep stacking up. Usually summoned lost souls attack indiscriminately, but those? They just wanted help. They went down after disappearing, which gives you the stunning idea that there might be a basement. What a great house you think to yourself.\n\nYou spend a minute fumbling around in the next room. It's a kitchen of sorts you think. There's all sorts of appliances and utensils, but also a toilet right smack in the middle of the room. You push aside the thought to ask when you leave. For now the hidden door you accidentally slid open is of more interest.\n\nAs with most hidden entrances the path way down was filled with cobwebs all around and left over souls just floating randomly. They needed rest, the general atmosphere felt tired. You want sleep. Sleep is nice. You feel drowzee as you descend. \n\nFaces begin to fill as you go. Slowly but surely they all seem to get faces. Their clothes all seem out of place. Sure there is a some modern cloths, but you're pretty sure you just passed a guy in a plague mask. It's Johnathan you remember. You don't understand the memory, you never lived through the plague. It wasn't until much, much later you were even born!\n\nYour confusion heightens as your descent levels out. Before you stands a glowing coffin. A figure pops out of it. You feel no ill will coming from the figure, only peace.\n\nYou reach them and collapse, silent tears escape your face as you burry your face in their shoulder. It's father you remember. You remember it all. All the friends you made during your reincarnations, the families, the love, it's all flowing into you now.\n\nYou told them you would see them later, that you weren't done on Earth until you could be sure you made a difference, and at long last you are sure you have. The money was an excuse, it was an excuse to yourself to allow you to feel free to help. You weren't allowed to act in your first life, but now you got to. All these souls here were pulled to you, and now you could be free with them.\n\nCarefully you laid down in the coffin, crossing your arms and everything. A woman strokes your hair as you close your eyes. The money was nice, but you missed everyone. The time has come for your cycle to stop and join your loved ones.\n\nThere would be no more life and you were okay with that. You were okay as you laid down and prepared for what should have came long ago.",
"She tries to avoid the others when she could. It is more difficult than one might expect, the number of tragedies that had occurred on the grounds ensures that they are never lacking in inhabitants. Though sometimes she and some of the children might distract themselves with the games they can barely remember, she's more likely to hide in the shadows, especially from the more religious of the adults.\n\nThe centuries that the house had seen were reflected in its hosts. She makes a game of it as she darts through the halls, counting off the others as she passes them. The weeping widow, still clad in her mourning gown as she cries for the husband whose final breath went to build their first home. Her neck still bears the ridges of the rope that snapped it. In the shadows of the next room a boy stands silent, unable to speak past the stitches sewn by a cruel man (she wouldn't call him a father even now). Sometimes she would write notes with him, he told the best jokes though his laughter could only be seen in his pale eyes.\n\nFaster now, down the stairs to where the nuns stood, huddled together in the chapel, their habits hiding most of the burns. It wouldn't be the last time the house burned, but it was always rebuilt. She thinks it might have been a hospital then, during the war times. She can't help but avoid their gaze, her back burning in a way that is too familiar. She understands they are not to blame, but fear is often most unreasonable.\n\nShe offers a smile to the two soldiers at the end of the hall. They smile back, hands clasped together in a way they never could be in life. They avoid most of the others, their bodies still riddled with bullets, enough proof that most of the world would never accept their bond. They have each other, and her. It is enough.\n\nOne more flight of stairs and she's at the ground floor. She greets the small woman who works tirelessly at cleaning, though her hands can't wipe away the dust she still scrubs, fuelled by fear of a husband that could no longer hurt her. Her smile is small, white teeth shining through the blood that pours from the jagged hole in her forehead. She nods at the silent man who now stands at the top of the basement stairs, a quiet guard for them as he was for his family before. She still doesn't now what brought him here, but she is glad for his presence. She tries not to think of what waits in the basement.\n\nFinally she makes it to the front entry hall, and she sees another girl at the door, listening to the people outside. She giggles, causing the other (\"Anne...\" her mind whispers, though names are sometimes fuzzy here) to turn and smile at her. They stand together, hands tightly clasped as they try to make out the words of the group outside. \n\nTime meant nothing here, but they could always remember the living among them. Though now it was mostly the caretakers that passed through, ignoring the whispers they heard, sometimes groups such as this one would come, hidden in the cover of night. It was always exciting to the two girls, for the group would be there because of them. Trying to speak to those that still wandered the halls. She couldn't help but speak to them, though the nuns often would glare scornfully. They thought any answers of the After should come from their deity, not from those who didn't pass on.\n\nShe loves it though. Loves the questions, the games. It was one of the few times she felt connected to anything, anything that wasn't... It anyway. Without meaning to her mind goes to the time she tried to describe the force that anchored them all to the building, the darkness that they all knew but did their best to forget. Even though she was at the top story at the time, she had felt Its fingers wrap around her throat, cutting off the words that the group had been hearing. She hadn't tried since.\n\nThe more religious of them call it demon, though she doubts that the word fully describes It. She doesn't believe it holds to any religion, no it is only evil, fluid and flowing in the cracks and shadows of the house, though now most is trapped deep below the earth. It holds no form but it is always with them and surrounding them, a twisted perversion of the god that the nuns cry out to in the darker moments. It is pure darkness and she knows that without a guard it would swallow them all down instead of merely locking them in the floors of this house.\n\nShe shakes off the bad thoughts, returning her mind to the moment. As the voices get closer to the door the two back up, still holding hands. She still marvels at their ability to do so, born at such different times yet dead at the same age. Barely adults, they whisper like children to each other, speaking of possibilities. Maybe this time they would be able to speak, maybe one would even see them. It was never certain how much they would be able to share, but she feels like this time would be a good one.\n\nShe kisses Anne on the cheek for luck, taking joy at the smile this brings her. She smiles back, before taking off, back towards the stairs, pulling Anne with her. They know that they will have the most energy in the room at the top of the house, where they had felt the most of their pain and misery. She could still feel the knife in her heart, could remember watching Anne's panicked thrashing as the pillow was held over her face until her heart stopped. She pushed away the pain, grounding herself on the connection they had. \n\nBehind them she could hear the door open. They would be ready when the time came, to try and speak with those who came for them. But for now they simply ran, through the halls of the dead and the nearly forgotten.\n\nTogether.\n"
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[WP] Write a story about a girl whose birthday is always “Next Wednesday”
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"Amelia crawled out of bed with a yawn and a stretch. Standing up, she tugged her favorite sleep shorts down and out of the wedgie that occurred as part of her natural, nocturnal sprawl. She frowned, saddened that she was outgrowing them.\n\n“*C'est la vie,” s*he pouted, before straightening her sleep shirt to cross the hall and attend to her missing bathroom rituals. \n\nOn her way out the bedroom door, she stopped to play with a keychain that was bolted to the wall and held in place by a combination lock. Giving it an idle spin, she noted the calendar taped right above it, with the sixteenth circled in red. \n\n“Sixteen on the sixteenth,” she muttered, tapping the date twice, and jingling the keys on the keychain.\n\n“Six more days, and you have to unlock these!” she shouted down the hall, where she knew her father was putting a cold breakfast on the table, and her mother was assembling lunches for the three of them.\n\nA comically loud and defeated sigh came from the kitchen out of her father, before he shouted his reply back, “Only because you’re a quitter, and gave up trying to guess the combination.”\n\nAmelia didn’t particularly care. It was a barb she and her father traded back and forth for as long as she could remember. She was practically bouncing while brushing her teeth, and recounting the deal she’d made with her father.\n\nAt twelve, she’d made him pinky swear to buy her first car. He did so in the condition it was used. On her thirteenth birthday, when he put up a copy of the key for his old Geo--old enough that she could have been conceived in it, he joked, and she tried to never think about--she changed the deal. She wanted a new car. A new BMW. They came to terms on a (very) used BMW that was within his budget, contingent on a 3.8 GPA. On her fourteenth, the Geo key was replaced with a BMW keyring and a key on it.\n\nThe car it went to was still a surprise, and dad kept it at a storage unit somewhere outside of town.\n\nThe key had been bolted and locked to the wall that day. The extra incentive was added at her mother’s insistence. If Amelia could unlock it before her sixteenth, she could get her permit to drive early using *her* car. The interest in solving the lock waned after a week, when Amelia had lost the paper that listed the 432 combinations she already tried. The original deal required her to wait until her sixteenth birthday, so she rationalized she could wait out her parents on the original deadline.\n\nAnd she had.\n\nSix days.\n\nAll these memories played in Amelia’s mind, building the anticipation a little more each day. The tingle in her scalp from her conditioner echoed the tingle of excitement that made her bounce on her toes in the shower. The bouncing perpetuated itself through her system while she was drying her hair set her a rhythm brushing her teeth. It was an earworm of music only a teenager’s soul can have as they approach their first day with their new car.\n\nGetting dressed was a struggle every day. There were too many things to take into consideration for the proper outfit that was her public face at school. There were protocols to observe in the social hierarchy, to balance a near-perfect academic record to being able to mesh with the cool kids and the pretty girls. The thoughts of her car almost crowded out the rest. What brain power she had left was being spent on puzzling her favorite bra that wasn’t clapping the way it should.\n\n“Lunch is ready! Are you?” shouted her mom.\n\n“Yeah, hang on. I can’t get this stupid thing to hook anymore. I’ll be right there, as soon as I finish getting dressed!” Amelia shouted back.\n\nFinally, after taking it off, and checking the hooks’ integrity a second time, she had to admit that she was growing out of it. The stupid thing had for just the other day, she thought. In an admission of defeat at her changing body, she hooked the last set of clasps together and frowned in the mirror before throwing on the rest of her ensemble.\n\nMaking her way down the hall, Amelia made it to the kitchen and grabbed her sack lunch from the kitchen island where her mom had put it. She snatched up her book bag from the wall by the door and kissed mom on the cheek as a thank you, before waving goodbye over her shoulder and starting out the door.\n\nHer father barked at her, “Amelia!”\n\nA little shocked at his tone of voice, she turned around to see her father toss a cereal bar underhand at her. Catching it more out of surprised reflex than genuine effort, she saw him give a wan smile.\n\n“Breakfast. Too late for cereal, and in too much of a rush to even get a cereal bar? Don’t forget anything else today. Okay?”\n\n“Of course. Thanks, dad.”\n\nAmelia waved again as she went out the kitchen door. As the door shut, both of Amelia’s parents sighed and visibly deflated a little.\n\n“Every morning for a year and a half,” her mother said, “and I don’t know just how much more of this I can handle.”\n\nHer father shook his head and shrugged. “We keep going until she’s through this phase. It’s important for her mental development that--”\n\n“That what, Richard? That we actually get our baby girl back? How much longer do we have to keep up this pretense--”\n\nIt was Amelia’s mother’s turn to be interrupted as the back door opened and her daughter came through the door with an apology.\n\n“You distracted me! I forgot my keys,” Amelia said, pulling a keyring of a home by the back door. “You know if you just gave me my car, I wouldn’t forget to take my house keys. They’d be... attached...”\n\nAmelia’s words feel off as she looked over the scene in the kitchen. They looked a little older, a little more grey, and a little more tired than usual. But it was just for a beat, there and gone, as they put on happier faces at seeing their daughter back in the kitchen. She was smart enough to pressure the question when she saw it.\n\n“Wait. What pretense? What’s going on?”\n\nHer mother chuckled in a polite way, the way people who are embarrassed chuckle when they try to brush off what they were caught in the middle of as no big deal. Amelia knew, because every ten knows that skill before their sixteenth.\n\n“Why, the pretense that you’re no longer my sweet, innocent little girl that doesn’t grow up,” her father chimed in, “who will never be interested in boys, *or cars*, and never go to college so far away the she can’t be home they might for dinner.”\n\nAmelia gave the two of them a suspicious squint. Gesturing with two fingers and the keys in her hands at her eyes and then her parents, indicating she was going to be watching them closely.\n\n“It’s not like this has *anything* to do with your birthday,” her mother said with enough polite chuckle. “Go out to the car, honey. Since you’re now running late, your father will be out to get you in a second.”\n\n“Kay, mom. Love you. Bye!” Amelia said, before ducking out the door, popping her head back in three seconds later to give another *I’m watching you* gesture, and then closing the door to go wait at the card for her father.\n\n“Just get her to the neurologist today, Richard,” her mother sighed and landed on the island, a hand holding each corner for as much physical support as it was emotional. “And pray there’s some progress this time. She’s six months away from her eighteenth, and she never even had her sixteenth. I can’t keep watching her relive this week. I can’t keep reliving this week. It hurts too much. I just--I just want her back.”\n\nRichard came over and hugged her tint around the shoulders from the back.\n\n“I know, honey. I want her back, too. But we have to be strong until she can start moving forward again. We can’t disrupt her mornings until she comes out of it. Once her mind can close the gap again, we can close ours. Be patient.\n\n“I’ll tell her we’re playing hookie today, so I can give her a special diving lesson before her birthday next Wednesday. We’ll drive out to the hospital, and that should be enough to get her through the rest of the day, as the doctor can answer all the questions this time. We won’t have to do this much longer. I promise.”\n\nHe kissed her on the cheek and held her extra tight for an extra long time, as of holding on that tight and long could hold back the tears.\n\nThe car horn honked twice outside.\n\nAmelia was ready to go, and ready for her birthday next Wednesday."
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[WP] I step out into the light. I am naked. Not in a lack of clothing, but in that everything I am, everything I know, has been stripped from me.
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"They say ev’rybody’s born naked:\n\nwe start without judgment or lies.\n\nBut cold from the truth and the heartbreak,\n\nwe wrap ourselves in our disguise.\n\n \n\nAt first, it brings comfort and safety,\n\nbut soon we’re unable to walk.\n\nI’m stifled and strangled and choking,\n\nuntil I say “We need to talk…”\n\n \n\nIt is awkward to be undressing\n\nfor the first time before someone else\n\nand to lay bare all the thoughts I kept hidden—\n\nthe wounds I had kept to myself.\n\n \n\nThere is shouting, crying, and anger.\n\nWe are both hurt. Are we both wronged?\n\nBetrayed? Cheated? Deceived?\n\nPerhaps.\n\nBut now, at last, I can walk again.\n\n \n\nAnd walking I step into coldness,\n\nbut warmed by the streetlights I’m free.\n\nThe night hides my soul stripped of worries\n\nand all that remains here… is me."
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[WP] While getting ready in the morning you look at your mirror and see your reflection brutally murdered lying on the ground.
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"The last thing that I do is get my tie on. I'll admit it: it's one of my favorite parts of the day, standing there in front of a mirror, trying to decide which of the half dozen knots will go best with today's suit. It makes me feel in control, put together. Today, however, I was a bit distracted. In part, it was because I was wearing a series of prosthetics that distorted my features (my mother would not recognize me), but more significantly: I could not stop looking at the image behind me in the mirror, the image of my corpse.\n\nIt looked so real, so lifelike. The blood splattered around the room at just the right angles. I could even see the distortions caused by the bullet. I just wish that it hadn't gone through the eye. I would have loved to leave it so that they could see my eyes. Still, I think it is masterful work and will have to remember to pay the artist a generous tip.\n\nI turned around, partially to look at the corpse directly, and partially to just take a minute and breathe in the atmosphere. In a moment I will leave my apartment and never return, and it is hard to say goodbye to places where we've lived. This painting we got in Italy, that furniture was designed by Phillipe Starke. There is just so much history and I needed to take a moment to breathe it in before I burn it down. \n\nWhen I finished I picked up my briefcase, the one that held all of the important paperwork, the papers and information which would let me pull off this plan, took the elevator to the ground floor and left the building, walking north on 5th. Once I got a few blocks away, I called the police, complaining about hearing \"screaming and a gunshot\" and gave them my apartment number. A recording played in the apartment to corroborate the story if there were anyone who could have *actually* heard what was going on.\n\nI'm not entirely certain that the police believed my story. The dispatcher wanted more information than I had prepared, but I know I was convincing enough to get them to go and look at the little scene I made for them. Admittedly, it's this type of irregularity that might let Martin, my (now ex) partner, go free, but that was a risk I was willing to take. It really isn't the most important that he go down for murder, so long as he is made a pariah. If he's even accused of murder, then he'll never be able to show his face in public again.\n\nI took my time about the city that day. I had a flight to Mexico in the afternoon and already had the fake passport and real plane tickets. I just needed to kill some time for a few hours before getting to the airport. Better to spend my time walking about one of the greatest cities on earth than in one of her airports.\n\nI was lucky. At around noon I saw the first news about the murder. They believed that I was killed and that my ex-partner had a hand in bringing that about. They even showed a picture of him, that visionless simpleton, and I was almost giddy about how pale and panicked he looked. Of course, they went on to talk about \"presumed innocent\", but this was already going as well as I could hope.\n\nI had lunch at my favorite restaurant and window shopped for a while. I was sad that I wouldn't be able to use anything for my apartment. I'd miss that place. Still, alls well that ends well, I suppose.\n\nI had a 9 PM flight, a red-eye out to LA. I would need to connect from there into Mexico. There I planned to disappear, keeping track of how well the press crucifies Martin. Unfortunately, it turns out I made a rather crucial mistake. When I got to the airport to try to leave the country, I noticed that I was missing two extremely important things. First, I did not have a copy of my tickets. Normally this would not be a problem: the airport kiosk will accept a credit card to identify your seat. However, since my new persona didn't have credit cards yet, I was planning on sticking with paper. The second issue was that my fake passport was not in my briefcase. As soon as I realized that, I realized that both documents were on my dresser, in my bedroom."
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[WP] You're an assassin with a gift; The dead come to you with their unfinished business.
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"Shovel-full by shovel-full, the dirt finds its way out of the hole and into the ever-growing pile surrounding. Tully stands in the centre, tirelessly plugging away toward the supposed treasure hidden eight feet beneath the ground in this very spot by Edwick, his latest connection to the spirit world, and current client.\n\nHe thrusts the shovel sharply into the ground, connecting with something metallic which lets out a loud clang. \n\n'I guess you weren't lying, old man.'\n\nHe tosses the shovel aside and, kneeling on one knee, begins to clear the dirt with his hands, revealing a small golden box, monogrammed with the initials \"O.B.\" With careful hands, he works the latches and slowly opens the lid. The box is empty. Tully grunts.\n\n'Edwick!'\n\nSuddenly, the farmer materialises out of thin air. He sits on the edge of the hole, his legs hanging off the side.\n\n'Well hello again, assassin! Funny seeing you here.'\n\n'I'm not in the mood for jokes. Explain this.'\n\nEdwick looks at the empty box with a surprised expression.\n\n'Well, I-I don't know! It was there last I saw it! Someone must've stolen it...'\n\n'So you're saying someone else knew this was here. Someone with the know-how to open the lid without activating the lock. Knowledge which you assured me was secret.'\n\n'I-I don't know. This has baffled me too, sir!'\n\nWith an athletic leap, Tully climbs out of the hole. Edwick stands and tries to back away, but is quickly caught up to by Tully, who stops mere inches away from the spirit. He grasps Edwick by the throat.\n\n'Don't make me keep you here, I'd hate to have to put up with your annoying squeals for any longer than I need to.'\n\n'Please, I don't know nothing!'\n\n'It's true, he doesn't.'\n\nSuddenly, a woman appears in a burst of light. An unimpressed expression on her face. \n\n'He's not had a clue about anything since I died.'\n\n'Ophelia!'\n\nTully releases his grip on the man, who rushes over to the woman and throws himself at her feet. She looks at him scornfully, with her hands on her hips. \n\n'Please, forgive me my wife! I'd not intended to give away your jewelry. But the man demanded payment. Please-'\n\n'Oh stop your grovelling, you're embarrassing yourself. I knew very well you would dig that thing up eventually. That's why I hid it! Some place I knew you'd never find it.'\n\nThe man's expression changes, his eyes lighting up.\n\n'You hid it? Oh, thank the gods! Please, my love... you must tell me where it is! Please! Or else I'll be marked!'\n\n'It would be well deserved... You adulterous, good-for-nothing, scoundrel!' \n\nTully coughs. He is, indeed, still standing there. And still in need of payment. \n\n'Sorry to interrupt your, uh... reunion. But it's getting late. And the man promised a necklace.'\n\n'A necklace that wasn't his to give!'\n\nEdwick squeals, much to Ophelia's delight. Crying uncontrollably, he buries his head into her feet, rubbing his snotty nose into the fabric of her shoes. Gradually her smile fades into weak contempt, and her pleasure in seeing her husband grovel at her feet begins to fade.\n\n'Though, the work *is* done...' she says, a bit more sympathetically than before. 'And while he is indeed a liar and a cheat, I am not...'\n\nShe looks up at Tully. \n\n'The necklace is in the mattress.'\n\nEdwick looks up from her shoes.\n\n'The mattress?' he asks, quizzically.\n\n'Mmmhh, the one place you'd never think to look!'\n\nHe stands and wraps her tightly in an embrace, to which she acquiesces, patting him stiffly on the back.\n\n'Thank you! Thank you!'\n\n'Mmmhm. Is he free to go, sir?'\n\nTully nods, lightly, and the pair disappears into the wind.\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"First time responding, please be gentle.\n\n \n\n\"You know, most people think that being able to see the dead would be a pretty useless skill. But let me tell you, it has been an absolute godsend to someone like me.\"\n\nThe man across from me raised an eyebrow, as most do when they learn about my \"talents\". I mean, it probably surprised him as much as when I walked into the pub, dropped a stack of £50s on the bench, and bought everyone's next round for them. And after, right on cue, some drunk decides to lob up to me and start chatting me up, like I'm some score for the night.\n\n\"What the hell ya talkin' about? they can't give ya nothin', an' they ain't gonna tell ya anythin' worth actin' on. they's dead, 'member?\"\n\nYou could almost hear my eyes rolling in their sockets. Seriously, how hard is it to understand!?\n\n\"True, but the dead usually hang around for one reason only. I think even you could figure out why.\"\n\nThe insult flies straight over his head, mainly due to him being too busy trying to figure out what I meant.\n\n*Come on, any second now...*\n\n\"They's got unfinished business!\"\n\nWow. that took longer than I expected. He got there in the end though.\n\n\"Indeed they do.\"\n\n\"But wossat got ta do with you?\"\n\nI sigh. Looks like he missed it again.\n\n*Aaaaaaaany second now...*\n\n\"Well, since I, to my knowledge, am the only one who can see or hear them, they come to me with their unfinished business, And I finish it. Of course, I don't work for free, so I get paid in various things. Bank details, locations of priceless artefacts and family heirlooms, and things like that.\n\n\"Yeah, wotever. Now, wot brings a pretty young thing like yourself to some joint like this?\"\n\n\"Well, my dear fellow, I came here because of you, Jacob Reiley.\"\n\nHe gave me a look like a stunned mullet when I said that. Perfect, just the reaction I was looking for.\n\n\"Me!? Wossa young thing like you want with me? An' how d'you know my name!?\"\n\n\"Well, when I said that I didn't work for free, I might have been exaggerating slightly. If someone has done something especially heinous, for example Raping and Murdering their girlfriends, I do, in fact, do the deed on the house.\"\n\n*Oh for god's sake, what's taking so long!?*\n\nMr. Reiley seem unfazed by this. He sculls the rest of his drink, and another comes sliding down the bar, right on cue.\n\n\"Wotever, Why would I care about that?\"\n\nHe lifts the glass to his lips, but it never reaches them, as his glass comes crashing down, along with his entire right arm. I savour the look of shear terror that he gives me as the rest of his outer extremities slowly go limp.\n\n*About bloody time.*\n\n\"Oh good, looks like the Tetrodotoxin is finally starting to work it's magic. I would say you have less than a minute to make peace with whatever's up there watch. As for me, this is my cue to leave.\"\n\nI sling my purse over my shoulder and start to leave, but I stop before I do, I stop and say one last thing to the now choking man.\n\n\"Oh, and before I forget, Nicole Reacher sends her regards.\"\n\nI turn and walk towards the door, not turning around to see the man's now lifeless body hitting the floor with a heavy thud, and ignoring the ever-growing screams of the patrons as they rush to attempt to save his life. They won't succeed, however. They never do.\n\nI see a figure standing in the dim light of a nearby street lamp. She is about my height and build, and would be considered pretty, if not for the bruising around her neck and the stab wound right where her heart would be. She smiles at me, and then, like a fleeting dream, she vanishes.\n\n*I hope she ended up somewhere nicer than here.*\n\nAs for me, I simply walk away, for there is no rest for the wicked, and I have another client that needs seeing to tonight."
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[WP] Write a long poem using only 5 words more than once.
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"Dust has collected everywhere.\nIn the sconces and on the candles. \nOn the windows and the tea table. \nDust.\n\nOn the china set and the fine polished silver. \nDust.\n\nEven the light switch. \nDust.\n\nDust clogs the air and swirls confused. \nGraying the vinyl of the wood finish. \nDust. \n\nRemember our special day?\nMy black tux and your brilliant pearly dress. \nBoth Dust.\n\nYour train? \nDust.\n\nAnd your father, his arms locked with yours.\nDust.\n\nYears passed steadily and frustrations soured into anger.\nThe doctors told you “Barren.” \nAnd we quenched our fire. \nAshes to Dust.\n \nHon, there’s a separate mattress came for you.\nSex life. Dust.\n\nConversations over coffee. \nDust. \n\nI sit among the dust. \nThe mantle, doilies, and me. \nDust.\n\nA thick layer covers me. While I wait to perish. \nOr you to die. \nDust will be our salvation. \n\n5 words: Dust, on, and, the, your. Also formatting is hard. :/"
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[WP] When humans die, they are reincarnated into babies and retain all memories of their prior life until the age of 1, in which all of their memories are erased
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"‘What is this nonsense? Do you fools not know who I am?’ \n\n“Awwww wittle boo boo is trying to talk! Honey, come look!”\n\n‘I WILL SEND YOU TO GULAG, WENCH’\n\n“Sweetie, I think he’s trying to say ‘daddy’!”\n\n“I think he said ‘gulag’?”\n\n“No, love, that’s just his little baby brain trying to make words!” \n\n‘What have I done to endure this hell?’\n\n“Uh-oh, that looks like a potty face... did you poopy your pants?”\n\n‘I AM LEADER OF GLORIOUS SOVIET UNION, I WILL END YOU BO— what is this?’\n\n“Ohhhh he’s pooping! You’re turn to change the diaper.”\n\n‘I HAVE SOILED MYSELF, CLEAN ME BEFORE I FEED YOU TO BEAR.’\n\n“Awwww it’s okay babes, don’t cry. Let’s sing the diaper song!”\n\n‘ENOUGH OF YOUR CAPITALIST SONGS, RETURN ME TO THE MOTHERLAND AND I MAY SPARE YOUR LIVES!’\n\n“Ooooh Edgar is a cranky one today.”\n\n‘MY NAME IS STALIN. JOSEF. STALIN. NOT EDGAR! I WILL BURN YOU BOTH ALIVE!’\n\n“Shhhhh little one, it’s okay. You want to watch the Backyardigans? Of course you do!”\n\n‘REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE’\n\n\n\nIf someone with some real writing skills could turn this into a fully fleshed out story, I would love to read it."
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[WP] During each year, an indicator appears in your field of vision for the best moment of your year and the worst moment of your year.
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"I buttered my cheese toastie and sat down, thinking about 2017 and what a great year it had been. My darling fiancé said yes when I popped the question in June, the green light assuring what I already knew- that was the best moment of my year. The death of Rufus, my 12 year old Labrador. The red light being the silver lining- at least there was nothing worse than that for the year.\nI wondered what 2018 had in store for me. That promotion I’d been wanting? Finally putting a mortgage down on a house? The lottery even??\nI took a bite out of my toastie and nodded in approval, not the best one I’d ever made, but pretty good. Cheddar was a good choice. Suddenly a green light appeared. Oh god, surely not. THIS? A decent toastie is the peak of 2018, and it’s happening on January 1st? \n\n2018 was going to be a long year.",
"She smiles and tilts her head, and that, for me, is all it takes. That telltale glow, the one that makes you feel warm and fuzzy once every year- only this time it's different. This time, I'm enamoured, convinced that not only is this the high point of my year, it's also the high point of my life. And what a high point. \n\nI've waited all year, wondering. Promotions, prizes I'd received; they all felt great, but they hadn't prompted the sign. So I waited patiently. And now here I am. I've known her for 11 months, and loved her for 8, and she's perfect. \n\nHer favourite song is *Landslide* by Fleetwood Mac. Her favourite movie is *When Harry Met Sally*. She's gorgeous, and clever, and so far out of my league that I've hated myself for falling for someone unattainable, and suddenly we're kissing. It's the kind of kiss that makes the world alright for a moment, the kind that makes every bad decision you've made worth it because it's lead you to this point- the kind of kiss that promises many more good things to come. \n\nWe come apart, and the glow fades. \n\n\"So, I'll see you tomorrow?\" I half-stammer after a pause. She laughs and nods just a little before turning away. I watch her cross the street, and as she reaches the divider in the middle of the road she glances at me with a twinkle in her eye. The lights change, and off she strolls, and everything goes to shit. \n\nShe's almost on the footpath, almost safe. The truck almost misses her. I hear it coming, of course, hear it braking seconds too late. But I'm so caught up in the damned perfection of it all, so it doesn't register. The truck doesn't stop, and my vision turns red- because though I'd waited all year for that golden moment, I'd forgotten that I hadn't seen red yet. "
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[WP] God observing humans in disguise is tired of getting bullied in high school and breaks into a rant. -- "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe."
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"Jesus Gonzalez, God's randomly selected yet, coincidentally, appropriately named host body, told the gaggle of bullies, \"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" his hapless friend said. \"Like ships on fire in Orion, and c-beams glittering all dark and shit by Tannhäuser.\"\n\n\"Shut up, Stewie,\" God told Stewie, and to the bullies he said, \"All those moments ...\"\n\n\"Seriously?\" one bully exclaimed. \"You nerds can't not quote movies or TV? Hell, even the eggheads will give a good Shakespearean insult, but all you guys have is to tell Data to point the NX-01's blasters, set 'em not on taser, and blow the empire away once and for all.\"\n\n\"I, I can't believe it,\" Stewie began.\n\n\"Shut up, Stewie!\" God hissed over at Stewie.\n\n\"They're so wrong it's insulting.\"\n\n\"Well of course it is,\" God said, both to Stewie and the bullies. \"I'm insulted. No, I'm enwrathed. Is that an English word? Enwrathed. \n To be full of wrath?\" He glanced at Stewie, who just shrugged. \n \"Anyway, what my esteemed friend here is trying to say is that Piccard would have instructed Lt. Worf -\"\n\n\"Lt. Commander,\" Stewie whispered.\n\n\"Worf to put the ships', that being the Enterprise NCC-1701-C, not to be confused with the NX-01, which you're imagining right now.\" \n He squinted. \"Yes, Bobbie Joe is it? Yeah, I can see you're somehow getting the Jetsons in there for some reason. I, I'm not sure I even want to know what the rest of that is. Too many tentacles. Ick.\"\n\n\"D,\" Stewie hissed.\n\n\"What?\" God asked him.\n\n\"Worf wasn't a Lt. Commander until they were on the NCC-1701-D. \n You got the version wrong.\"\n\n\"No I didn't,\" God snapped. \"I said Lt., and you added the Commander. I'm right.\"\n\n\"Uh, uh,\" Stewie said, shaking his head. \n\n\"Dude!\" Another bully said. \"Seriously, what the hell? Let's just pound him.\" He smacked his fist into his hand. He stared God down and did it again. \"That's two. For flinching.\"\n\n\"I didn't flinch,\" God said. \"And, that's not right. It's one,\" he pounded the bully on the arm, a little harder than he intended, and heard a small crack. \"Sorry. Anyway, that's one, and,\" he raised his fist, and the bully flinched. Then he lightly touched his broken, and soon to be incredibly painful, arm.\n\nThe bully grabbed his arm, bit his lip, and chewed on it under his canines. \"You nerds,\" he seethed. \"You are such dorks!\"\n\nThe bullies dispersed. God and Stewie watched them leave, and then Stewie turned to God and said, \"It was the D.\""
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[WP] What? No. You spelled it backwards. It's supposed to read "and Dog created them in his image.' it's D O G. Dog. Not whatever you just wrote.
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"When the Supreme Creator of the Universe had stopped licking my face, everyone started to speak again.\n\n“But it can’t be! I-I won’t ALLOW it!”\n\n“I mean, I don’t really think it’s up to a vote.”\n\n“But this is RIDICULOUS!”\n\nThe first voice, reedy and high like the indignant squawk of some wading bird about to take off, came from High Leader Malachor of the TechnoOdinist Order of the Golden Dawn. The second voice, the surly baritone of a disgruntled cartoon bear, had come from Inquisitor Orr, Most Highest Cardinal of the Papal Mainframe.\n\nThey were merely the first two who’d made it up the steps. There were dozens more outside. By the 51st Century, many religions had had millennia to discover the joy of sects, and they’d been multiplying ever since.\n\n“Bring me the map!”\n\nMalachor had stepped forward, and his long-fingered hands had snatched the star-map from me before I even had time to blink. He flicked up the hologram of the galaxy again. Orr and Malachor watched it with great intent, like two bewildered children at Christmastime who’d just unwrapped a brick.\n\nThe Supreme Creator bumped up against my leg.\n\nThe star-map had been cobbled together by the collective efforts of a thousand major religions, a hundred thousand minor religions, and even a few that everyone assumed had gone flat. Every clue and hint and Easter egg from every sacred text had been painstakingly collated and combed through, and what had been sieved out was the exact location of the Creator of the Universe’s domain. \n\nEach of the various religious leaders had congratulated the others for their great effort, solemnly promised that no-one would endeavour to discover the Great Lord until a joint expedition could be established, as was only fair, and then immediately dispatched a spaceship when no-one was looking. After a few incredibly enlightening lessons about what happens when a few dozen ships crash into each other at light-speed, the joint expedition had been reluctantly established after all, and the USS Discovery had made its ponderous way towards the centre of the galaxy.\n\nOf course, the ship had needed a pilot, which was where I came in. \n\nWhat the ship had found was a small moon. Its surface was beautiful – all sloping mountains coated in blankets of plush, rolling grass, lakes that yawned out towards infinity, and valleys that bowed like grateful servants as if to meet us. Plush, fluffy clouds floated through the sky, but they also glided across the floor like curious spectres, milling at our feet as we stepped out of the craft and onto the surface. Mist hung like a silk curtain. We’d noticed that the tallest of the mountains had smooth stone steps carved thoughtfully into its side, and that at the very top of the mountain was a great crystal castle, spires reaching towards the sun, as if someone had planted a diamond years ago and allowed it to grow.\n\nWe’d climbed the steps, entered the castle, and found The Supreme Creator Himself lying at the foot of the great golden throne, tongue lolling out lazily and tail thumping a quietly joyous beat on the floor. \n\nEvidently, He’d been trained not to lie on the furniture. \n\n“This is the place.” Orr put the map away. Malachor had rallied himself, and drew himself up to his full height, giving the impression of a pencil that had learned to glare. “But to claim that this…animal is the Lord our God, who was, and is, and ever shall be-“\n\n“Dog. I think. The lord our Dog.” I scratched Him, with one hand, behind soft floppy ears. “I’ve been thinking. Seems like there could have been a typo somewhere.”\n\n“Are you trying to be *funny?!*”\n\n“In a situation like this, it’s kind of hard not to.”\n\nOrr looked down at the Creator with an expression of distaste, fingering the thick wooden cross dangling ponderously from a chain upon his neck. “But surely we would have been able to tell from the descriptions of Him?”\n\n*“Precisely!”* Malachor pounced, striding across the floor. “God is a majestic and noble figure! He has flowing, golden hair!”\n\n“He has a deep and abiding love of nature!”\n\n“He loves everyone, boundlessly, regardless of…who they are…”\n\n“He cares not for…material wealth or money…”\n\nThe two of them stopped. They both looked at the Creator. Orr tilted his head to the side, one of his chins giving a deliberate wobble. The Creator had rolled over onto his back, kicking his legs in playful spasms. Big brown eyes looked up at them, sparking with joy. \n\nThey considered things, for a few seconds.\n\n“I suppose”, Orr started, weighing out each word carefully as if he were ready to grab the sentence and run at any moment, “there are elements of Scripture to support this. This is true.”\n\n“Indeed.” Malachor’s expression was thoughtful. A dozen little gears ticked behind his eyes. “And I suppose, in fact, there are advantages to this potential interpretation.”\n\n“Oh?” Orr looked over. I frowned. \n\n“Of course”, Malachor continued, as if talking about something else entirely, “a Creator such as this would be incapable of expressing his complex emotions and feelings to such lesser mortals as we. He would require…interpreters.”\n\n“Of course.” Orr nodded. “To make his wishes clear.”\n\nNeither of them noticed the growl. It was building under the throne like a coiling cobra.\n\n“And these interpreters would perhaps be…rewarded? And any proclamation they made would be backed by cast-iron proof of an existent divinity, so it could not be questioned?”\n\n“Yes.”\n\n“Yes. Yes, I thought so.”\n\nThe two of them turned to the Creator, eyes glinting like knives. And neither of them saw the lightning bolt. \n\nIt was hard to explain – I’m not sure I can, even now. The closest I can come to it is that in the space of one second there were two figures in robes, and then two seconds’ time there was a sad-looking scorched patch on the floor, and that inbetween my eyes exploded and my pupils scorched and I felt the faint spatter of jam.\n\nThe Creator bounded to the pile of ash, and sniffed. His front paws pattered against the ground. He leant down, grabbed the scorched remnants of the wooden cross in his mouth, then scrabbled back to me and dropped it at my feet expectantly. I looked into deep brown eyes, and for the first time I saw the sparking intelligence underneath. \n\nAnd the Lord said, “Woof.”\n\nI laughed, shivering slightly, and threw the cross for Him. \n"
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[WP] You've suffered from mild depression and decided to join the GoodLife program. You are taken to an island facility with other patients but it only takes you three days to realize something in the treatment is off.
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"Your depression was nothing to freak out about, really. It was manageable, fine. But your parents and friends convinced you that you have to join this program. They don't want to see you like this. They paid the fees, got everything set up and ready to go. You suppose you have no choice.\n\nYou arrive there and are outfitted with clean, white pyjamas. You're put through several tests before being plopped down into a room. It's clean, with decorations all over the walls. You see new patients, some curious, some angry, and some miserable. You suppose this is normal.\n\n\"This program is to help people with depression, anxiety, and anger management,\" a lean blonde begins to speak with a plastic smile, going on some boring spiel.\n\n\"This is the room you will spend your afternoons in. Do not attempt to leave this room,\" her tone drops slightly, and her unnatural smile stretches, you can feel a chill up your spine as she does this.\n\n\"Oh! And here comes the old patients! Back from breakfast I see?\" she chirps as four people walk in, wearing those same white baggy pants and shirts, they all appear gaunt and pale, tired. One has clearly been tired but is trying to smile.\n\n\"Anyways!\" she claps her hands. \"Let's get on with the tour.\"\n\nYou stay behind, hiding near the door before approaching a small brunette. He tries to wipe all the tears from his eyes, his breaths shaky.\n\nYou crouch down to his tiny, withering form and ask if he's alright.\n\n\"N-no... Oh God no... this place is horrible,\" he whispers faintly, as if someone is listening. \n\n\"Erm... what are you here for?\" you ask slowlt.\n\n\"That doesn't matter. What matters now is that I've seen a man be killed. Listen, this place isn't safe. Oh God, the screaming.\"\n\nYour face twists as you hear it begin. He stills, sobbing faintly. \n\n\"L-looks like they're th-th-th-thinning out the new batch...\""
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[WP] Seasons are distributed randomly and permanently throughout the planet. Some places have permanent summer while others winter. You live in the poor slums of everwinter, but you dream of the moving to a different season.
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"When the people outside of Boreas heard that it was the place of a never ending winter, they would be correct to assume that there was a never-ending supply of snow. To some degree, they would be right. The days the snow fell, homes would be covered and sometimes lost in them(the wails of mothers losing children haunt the town to this day), highways and streets close, and buildings closed out for fearing of not being able to handle and keep out the falling powder. However, what Caleb would tell you is that winter isn't about the snow or the cloud or surrounding a fire place. It was, and always shall be, the cold.\n\nThe bone-chilling, hypothermia-causin', family killin' cold. He would never understand those who lived towards the South in Helios. \"Oh, I wish I could wear long-lived sweaters.\" \"Playing the snow seems so fun.\" \"The cool wind in your face must be amazing.\" \n\nOh it was amazing, right all. Not unlike how a torrent of snow can tear down an entire suburbs and leave those in the house in tombs of their own comfortable houses. Amazing like how families burn their own unnecessary clothes in order to keep the fire alive for possibly another hour or so. N..No...Not unlike what they do with \"unneeded\" people. Amazing, yeah, it was amazing all right. \n\nThat's why Caleb wanted to go. He needed to go. Not just for Helios, Aelios, or Tera. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to know the sun on his exposed skin, instead of pastry skin that had only ever known ultra-violent rays inside of his own home, the beautiful air-riding of the Aelios and it beautiful women, or Tera, with growing communities. \n\nNO.\n\nHe had to leave because, if he stayed for any longer, he didn't know when they would come for him.",
"Back when I was younger, my dad used to share with me the gruesome details of his childhood. The world was pathetic. Matter of fact, it still is quite pathetic. He told me how he used to live in a warm land. A far off land. To me, an abstract land. \n\n“It was like the whole city was wrapped up in toasty blankets youngin…” he would tell me while I squeezed one of the only blankets we had around my body, trying hard to imagine this magnificent world. A place this warm meant endless opportunities and that is why he was able to go to primary school. But that was all. Despite being in sunny side California, where the opportunities extended from one mountain to the other, he was unable to get more than a fraction of them. \n\n“Why daddy why?” I would repeatedly ask this good man every time he shared to me this story. \n\nAnd he would always be cautious to tell me the truth. He was saddened by the reality of it all. \n\n“Because of the color of my skin dear. The color of my skin.” \n\nAnd that was the absolute truth. As years passed, my father was forced to move to areas that the elite didn’t want to step foot in. Now he is in the slums of Chicago where the winters reign supreme. There are no jobs for us here. Nothing to be done in the freezing cold. \n\nI open the old stove that I found in an alley one day and throw in some firewood. I bring my sweet young Annie in front of the fire so that her cold body could melt away. It was just us. Her father, a white man, left a year ago when he realized the power he had in this world. He moved to a warmer state to make something of his life. But I, I am locked up in this tundra. \n\nI look to Annie’s soft face, her eyes closed and her breathing steady. What did I ever do to deserve this. I am living here as an outcome of the discrimination my father and his father and his father faced. I am trapped in this endless cycle, unable to break free. But, that does not stop me from imagining the possibility. I dream of moving to the place my dad was once from. I dream of living in the place where exotic plants grow, and kind faces glow. I dream of escaping.\n\nBut the winters keep getting colder, no warmth in sight",
"*...The air was alive with energy. The sunlight beaming down from the clear blue sky felt like it was warming her body from the inside out. As she stood at the front of a huge crowd, a young man appeared before the people. She felt like she would burst with pride as he began to speak...*\n\nAlena groggily opened her eyes. She grunted as she sat up and peeled her covers back, but the frigid air that greeted her sent her scrambling to pull them back up. She laid the bed, rubbing her eyes, and trying to remember the dream that she just awoke from, but it was no use. All she could recall was that it was a happy dream, certainly happier than the reality that presented itself when she woke. \n\nSighing, she pulled the covers off for a second time, this time ready for the shock of the cold air. She quickly slipped her feet into her threadbare shoes and hobbled over to the hook by the door to retrieve her coat. As she buttoned the ancient, frayed jacket, she peered out the window. There was no real reason to look out the window; the weather was always the same. Everwinter was always cold, grey, generally blanketed in snow. \n\nThe sight of fresh snow and dreary skies sent a shiver through her. She had never gotten used to the cold, even though she could only remember being warm two times in her life. Once, as a girl, her father had won a bet with one of his rather shady friends, and he showed up at home with a pocket full of coins, and a brand new fur blanket, fresh off the black market. “It fell off the trapper’s cart,” he said with a wink and a drunken grin. That night, full of wine and absolutely giddy, he had built a roaring fire, and presented the fur to her with much grandeur. She wrapped herself in the thick, brown warmth and sat by the fire as her father regaled her mother with his plans to use the money to change their lives, and she fell asleep. When she woke, shivering by the embers, she found her mother unconscious on the floor. The fur was gone, and so was her father, without a trace, like they had both been a dream. That was the last time she remembered not having a constant, piercing shiver inside her. She had never gotten used to the ache in her bones. \n\nShe shuffled across the bare plank floor, dust swirling in her path, to her makeshift kitchen and stirred the coals to life in the fireplace. She could see her breath as she kindled the fire. When she had gotten it warm enough to do anything but sit and shiver, she creakily, unsteadily made her way to her feet, and shuffled to the back door. She opened it and scanned the vicinity carefully, looking for any snooping eyes that might catch her. Seeing none, as always, she scooped snow away from a small mound next to the door, and pulled out two slabs of pink meat from the parcel within. She carefully patted snow back into place around it and darted back inside. She rubbed her swollen belly. One for each of them. \n\nShe shouldn’t have extra meat to stash away. In Everwinter, provisions were carefully distributed. The other places, like Foreverspring, Permafall and Alwaysummer, never had to worry about their food supplies. As a result, they supplied much of the food to Everwinter, but the amount of food one was allowed to buy was tightly controlled, and prices were very high, because of the scarcity of succesful deliveries. Often, blinding snowstorms and icy roads would turn drivers back, or, for the braver ones, send them over the edge of an icy mountain cliff. As it happened, the latter was how she had managed to accrue her little stash. She placed the meat on the grill over the fire, and rested her hands on her protruding stomach. \n\nShe wanted desperately to nourish the life growing within her. She had cried tears of relief when she stumbled upon the wreckage near the path through the woods where she was foraging several weeks ago. She was thankful for the deep freeze they had been experiencing. She didn’t have to worry as much about her stash being discovered, buried deep in the snow. The punishment for stealing provisions was severe, almost as severe as the penalty if one was caught trying to leave Everwinter. But extra food was not provided, or permitted for purchase, for any reason in the slums of Everwinter. Least of all to the mother of an illegitimate child. \n\nIn Everwinter, pregnancy was largely viewed as a burden, and children a necessary evil. Pregnancy rarely survived to birth. And those who did manage to see the light of day rarely made it for very long in the harsh, disease riddled slums. Her parents had been different, her mother warm and nurturing before her father disappeared. And she had her mother’s same warmth within her. She wasn’t like many of the other women of Everwinter, cold and harsh, who saw pregnancy as a burden, and a baby as another one of life’s disappointing twists. But, unlike her mother, she wasn’t going to wither away while she lamented the disappearance of *her* child’s father for the rest of her days. \n\nAlena’s had been a brief romance with a stranger from a distant town in Everwinter. He had appeared on her doorstep in a blizzard, shuddering from cold and seeking shelter. Her father had built the home just outside of town, and this meant that travelers tended to find themselves at her doorstep in storms. This time was different. There was an almost instant chemistry between them, a shared *something* that drew them to one another. They spent several days together, shivering before a fire, sharing details of their lives, and then, finally, succumbing to their lust, and sharing the heat of their bodies in her bed. That was the second time she had ever felt warm. But that night, the man, like her father many years before, disappeared while she slept. \n\nNow she was having his baby. This wasn’t the way she would have chosen to bring a child into the world, but this was the way it was working out. No sense crying over it. She had come to a conclusion long ago that Everwinter was no place for a child. And this baby...this baby had to have a chance. All she knew of Everwinter was cold, and an ache so deep it seemed like it would shatter her from the inside out. She knew would fight to her dying breath to get this baby out of Everwinter. What she didn’t know was that she was going to have to start that fight today.\n\n\n",
"The cold air pushed against the glass, rattling the frame before seeping in through the cracks. The chill swirled past the skin of my neck, I barely shuddered. It was cold, but some reflexes had long since died. \n\nI believed in two things. Some people were born lucky, and the others could go to hell. No one ever told me hell was this cold. \n\nThe unlucky ones were born to the poor, and the poor were cast into the Everwinter, that cold barren land. No man would venture there of their own volition, but once you found yourself trapped, there were few ways out. \n\nThe soil was hard, impenetrable, lifeless. Food supplies came in twice a week on The Malamute, a roaring behemoth, fueled by fire. The tracks it ran on went on and on, into the white horizon, and men had been known to follow those tracks, in search of warmth. They never came back, but maybe they had never made it. \n\nI lived alone, in a small cuboid space lined with animal hair, like just about everyone else in the slum. A single window let in light, but it also let in cold. The same cold they say drives to madness. \n\nFather had died years ago, among a band of fools who had attempted the hijack of The Malamute. Mother pretty much lost her mind years after, babbling nonsense. _The same cold they say drives to madness._\n\nThe Radiance. The land of the sun. Supposedly, there was a land where the sun had melted the snow, and the people had had warmth since the beginning of time. There was snow, and no cold. No freezing winds, and no goddamn blizzards. Supposedly. I only believe what I see. \n\nYet, there was nothing left for me here, and that desire clawed within my chest, that desire to see for myself. That desire to believe. But I knew that as I followed those tracks, as I walked on towards Radiance, Cold, that demon, would reach out its fingers and embrace me like an old friend. \n\nThe warmth would never be mine. Some were born lucky, and the rest could go to hell. \n\nAnd I would know no other home. \n",
"Simon knelt over the hospital bed where lay Cynthia, his wife of 12 years. They had been high-school sweethearts, and now in their early thirties, they began plans to start a family — plans that have been halted by bone cancer. \"You're going to be OK sweetie, hang in there. We're going to fight off this infection, and then a few weeks of chemo... and you'll be back on your feet.\" \n\n\"You promise?\", asked Cynthia. \n\n\"I promise sweetie; we're going to make it through this. Stay strong — and next year, after I get my promotion to the new office, we'll move to Autumnsville and begin a new life there.\" \n\n\"Oh we will Simon?\"\n\n\"Yes — they say the trees turn orange there, and even red at times, and we'll get to see it.\"\n\n\"Oh tell me more.\"\n\n\"I'll take us away from here darling: away from the snow, from the bitter ice, from the everlasting gray. We'll go where cherry-blossoms bloom, where oranges ripen, and where pumpkins blanket the fields.\"\n\n\"Oh that sounds dreamy.\", breathed Cynthia.\n\nSimon pulled out a brochure, propped her head up gently, and opened it for her — \"Look sweetie, look. See those meadows? Our kids will be able to play on them. They can frolick and pick the flowers: the heathers, the daisies, the chrysanthemums. They'll never know the dread of blizzards; they'll never feel the hunger of blights. A whole new life waits for us!\"\n\n\"Oh Simon\", whispered Cynthia as she died, still clutching the brochure.",
"At first, she loved winter. She loved the furs her family wore and the promises that she would get her own fur coat to wear when she was older- a promise that was now fulfilled, and had been since she was sixteen, and had learned that the furs were more family heirlooms than they were clothing. She loved the cold and everything that came with it; the laughter that came from her and her siblings whenever her mother complained about her fogged glasses, the cold sting of her cheeks when she went out for two long, and the hot cocoa that was always left on the counter for the neighborhood kids when they wandered back into the warmth their houses offered. \n\nThere were still somethings that she loved about winter- her memories, for one thing. One year, her and her older brother built an artful snow fort that could almost have been called an igloo. Another year, after one particularly long month of heavy, unending snow, every child and teenager gathered together to make a tunnel system big enough for all of them to fit through under the snow. \n\nNow, she wanted something else. She was tired of cold. She was tired of white. She was tired of everything to do with winter, but what could she do about it? Her country was called Everwinter for a reason, and Coldrest was only a small slum that only few were able to escape. \n\n\"What're you doing here, Everest?\" She nearly jumped at the sudden voice, looking over her shoulder to see a woman standing at the doorway of the attack. She had long and wavy platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She wore black, scuffed boots, gray pants, and a red sweater. The attic was colder than the rest of the house- the warmth of the fire didn't quite reach the cold, room and she had prepared accordingly with a mug of something that was throwing off steam in both hands. She stepped inside, found a place to sit next to the younger yet taller girl and handed her a mug.\n\n\"That's not my name,\" the younger said, accepting the mug of what turned out to be hot cocoa. Coffee was something they couldn't afford, but having at least hot cocoa in a place that was constantly full of children was a necessity. She took a sip, reaching up and tucking a lock of black hair behind one of her ears.\n\n\"Everyone calls you that,\" the blonde argued. \"So it's one of your names.\"\n\n\"It's a nickname,\" the ravenette said. \"I don't really like it.\"\n\n\"Then what's your real name?\" \n\n\"Elsie.\"\n\n\"Boring. I'm sticking with Everest.\" The woman smiled, leaning back slightly against the wall. \"What were you doing up here, Everest?\"\n\n\"Thinking,\" Elsie answered. \"About wanting to leave, but that's not going to happen.\"\n\n\"Leave where?\" the blonde pressed.\n\n\"Coldrest. Everwinter.\" Elsie's fingers tightened around the mug, ready to be laughed at- that's what everyone else did.\n\n\"And where would you go?\" \n\n\"What?\" The younger quickly lifted her head, her brown eyes wide in surprise. The blonde was still smiling at her.\n\n\"Where would you go?\" she repeated.\n\nSlowly, Elsie shrugged as the woman took a sip from her own mug of hot cocoa. \"I don't know,\" she said. \"I don't think I'd like Summerlast- I heard it gets up to a hundred degrees there sometimes. Everspring might be nice- I've never seen rain before, and I've heard stories about how people there fall asleep listening to thunderstorms. Fallast, though...\" she trailed off for a few moments, \"I can't imagine nature being anything other than brown and white.\"\n\nThe woman smiled. \"Would you mind if I told you a secret, Everest?\" she asked. Slowly, Elsie shook her head. \"I'm not from Coldrest.\"\n\n\"Then where are you from?\" the younger asked. \"Wolfwater? Northon?\"\n\nThe woman's smile grew wider. \"I'm not from Everwinter, either.\"\n\nElsie couldn't help it. She let out a laugh. \"You're probably from Saker Keep, right? Or Old Ashton?\" \n\nThe woman frowned. \"I'm not joking. I'm from Summerlast.\" \n\n\"Then how did you get here?\" Elsie asked. \"Why would you even *want* to get here?\"\n\nThe woman gave a long shrug of her shoulders, accompanied by an equally long sip from her mug. \"I like to travel.\" She leaned forward, setting her mug on the floor and crossing her arms. \"I *could* take you with me.\"\n\n\"What?!\" Elsie practically screeched. \"I don't even know your name!\" \n\n\"It's Robin.\"\n\n\"That doesn't change anything!\"\n\nRobin rolled her eyes. \"Of course it does, you know my name now! That was your problem, wasn't it?\"\n\n\"I don't even know you!\"\n\n\"Then why are you talking to me?\"\n\nElsie tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, then spoke slowly- as if she was speaking to a child and what she was saying should have been obvious. \"You gave me hot cocoa,\" she said, lifting up the mug she was still holding onto. \"It would be rude not to.\"\n\nRobin sighed. \"How about,\" she proposed, \"if we got to know each other for a while first? You could show me around Coldrest, then you could decide.\"\n\nElsie tapped her fingers on her mug as she thought. After a few, long and heavy seconds of silence, she nodded to herself. \"I... I guess it couldn't hurt,\" she said.\n\n\"Great!\" Robin jumped to her feet, bending over to pick up her mug. \"We'll start tomorrow!\" \n\nAs Elsie watched her leave the attic, taking a sip of her hot cocoa- not quite hot anymore but still enough to warm her- she realized that she already knew what her answer would be. She might as well start packing early.",
"*Rolling hills made the landscape look like a brilliant ocean of green, with specks of yellow dandelions and white daisies dotting the waves of grass. The sun sparkled above like a jewel amongst rocks, warming the world with its gentle glow. The trees were luscious and blooming, their leaves waving and cheering in the wind, and the animals roamed the plains as if the terms 'predator' and 'prey' never existed. Everything was calm. Everything was beautiful. Everything was perfect.*\n\n\"Don't tell me you're drawing again.\" The stern voice of his mother snapped Cameron awake.\n\nThe pencil he had been holding had fallen from his hand, while the page he had been drawing on was stuck to his face. He must've fallen asleep at his desk again. It was hard not to, especially when he was imagining how warm it must be in the lands of Everlasting Summer. It was his dream to one day escape the cruel days of Everwinter and bask in the glory of what the Summerians took for granted. He hated the cold.\n\n\"Sorry Mother,\" Cameron sighed, rubbing his eyes. \n\n\"What did you draw this time?\" She prodded him, coming to stand over his shoulder so she could scrutinize his drawing.\n\n\"I drew the hills of Summer. Or, at least, what I imagine them to be like.\" \n\nHis mother clicked her tongue, chastising him. \"Cameron, I hate to tell you to forget your dreams, but as your mother, I feel I must protect you. You *know* you can't ever be a Summerian. Why must you torture yourself like this?\"\n\n\"Because I don't want to be a Winteri. I hate the cold, and I hate the snow. I want to feel the warmth of Summer, just once.\"\n\nCameron didn't know why he bothered trying to justify himself to his mother at all, he knew she'd never understand him. He loved his mother to the moon and back, but she would never be able to feel what he felt, that aching desire for something more. And he was right, because when he glanced over, she was shaking her head.\n\n\"Cameron...\" She sighed, her voice dropping to a low whisper. \"You can't.\"\n\n\"Why not, Mother?\" He asked, his own voice raising to a quiet shout. \"Why is it that my dream is so insane? Rebecca dreams of moving to Autumnana, but you don't scold her for such desires.\"\n\n\"Because she can mix with the Fallers!\" She snapped, closing her eyes.\n\nCameron reared back, confused. \"What do you mean, 'mix'?\"\n\n\"It's our blood, Cameron.\" She said, massaging her temples to ward off an oncoming migraine. \"You are a pure-blooded Winteri. If you were to try and live among the Summerians, maybe even mate with one of them... it would not be good for either of you.\"\n\nCameron couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he didn't want to stop listening, especially now that he was finally getting some answers.\n\n\"Well, what about Rebecca? I mean, isn't she pure-blooded too?\"\n\nHis mother shook her head, not meeting his gaze. \"Your sister... she isn't your full sister. I am her mother, but her father... he was a Faller.\"\n\n*\"What?!\"* Cameron cried, pouncing up from his place at the desk. \"You slept with someone other than my father? How could you?\"\n\nHis mother sprung up, standing only an inch or two above him, tears building in her eyes.\n\n\"You must understand, Cameron, after the death of your father, I was devastated! I was crushed and heart-broken, and I felt completely alone. I loved your father, Cameron, I still do, but when I met Rebecca's father... he made me feel whole again! So we began seeing each other, but after Rebecca was born, we realized that we would never work together. After all, he was a Faller and I was a Winteri. Please, tell me you understand.\"\n\nShe reached out to him, cupping her hand underneath his chin so he could look up at her. She smiled dimly, a thin tear rolling down her thin cheek. Cameron wanted to forgive her, wanted to forget she had said anything at all, but all he felt inside was the Winteri blood that kept him from his dreams. He heard his mother's heart break when he turned his back on her. \n\n\"I can't. You say you loved my father, but then you pledged yourself to another? And then lied about it to not only my face, but my sister's too! How can I trust you?\" Cameron felt horrible saying these things to his mother, but he knew it had to be said.\n\n\"I'm your mother!\" She cried. \"You will always be able to trust me, for you are my child, and there is no one I love more than you and your sister.\"\n\nCameron shook his head, his mind made up. \"I'm sorry, mother, but I've made my choice. You may have given up on my father, but that's not in my blood. I won't give up on my dreams.\"\n\nHe snatched his smudged drawing of Everlasting Summer from his desk, stuffing it in his pocket. He wasn't sure what he was doing, or where he was going, for that matter, but all he knew was that he had to get away. Cameron didn't want to leave Rebecca behind, but he couldn't face her either, knowing that she had more freedom to roam the world than he did.\n\nAs he neared the door, his heavy coat in hand, he paused. He didn't face his mother as he spoke.\n\n\"It's not that I'm a pure-blood, is it mother?\" He whispered. \"It's that I'm his son. It's that you still feel guilty for betraying him, but you love him, and by letting go of me, you'd be letting go of him, and that just hurts too much, doesn't it?\"\n\nHe heard her slight intake of breath, but he didn't regret a single word he'd said. Before he could change his mind and rush back into her arms, he pulled the coat tight across his body, and then he walked out the door.",
"In Helios the sun never stops shining, and the people don't know how to frown. That's what I'm told. In Helios people don't even have to wear layers because the sun is always shining. That's what I was told. In Helios no one suffers. That's what I was told. \n\nYet somehow against all odds, here lays someone from the other side of the wall. Their body shaking uncontrollably, thinly covered clothes useless against our elements, their lips broken and bleeding in a familiar frown that I wear all too well. \n\nI blink some snowflakes out of my eyes. and reach into my meager bag of possessions and cover them with a blanket. \"What are you doing over here?\" My voice cracks slightly, \"Why are you here?\" The stranger looked into my eyes and winced, wrapping my blanket tighter around their frail figure.\n\n\"I'm the only survivor...\" They fell down forward into my chest and my gloved hands felt something warm and sticky on their back. blood spilled from a bullet wound...several wounds marking their back. I glanced towards the wall and heard the death cries of banner men from our side of the wall. \n\n*I've waited my whole life for this.*\n\nFIN",
"\nI woke up to cool air on my face. What a fucking surprise.\n\n\nI sat up, freeing myself from my two blankets and comforter, and cranked up the heat on my thermostat. \n\"Terra, are you touching the thermostat?\" *How did he know?* I said nothing, hoping in vain to maybe get away with pretending I was still sleeping. A second later, the cool air stopped, sending a silence through the apartment.\n\n\n\"I knew it! Don't keep raising it, it'll get too hot!\"\n\nI sighed.\n\n\nHalf an hour later, we were seated at the table, the dynamic duo. Cool air blowing on my face. I was dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie. He was wearing a shirt and pajamas. He eyed my outfit.\n\n\n\"Are you really that-\"\n\n\"Dad.\"\n\n\nHe shook his head, dismissing it. We'd had this conversation hundreds of times. Maybe millions. The problem with being a teenage girl with a dad who gets most of his information from daytime programming (Dr. Gale doesn't know *everything*, by the way) is that any sort of deviation from the norm is seen as fake, just a phase. So me constantly trying to stay warm, constantly sneaking around raising the thermostat - he thought it was just a phase. \"Just teen things'\". No, I was really cold.\n\n\nBut I shouldn't be.\n\n\n\"Alright then. I'm heading to work, I'll see you later.\"\n\nHe cleaned up his dishes, patted my shoulder, and departed. I cleaned up my own mess, grabbed a scarf, and heading outside. I could feel a smile playing on my lips, involuntarily. I loved these moments - not that I didn't love my dad, but these moments were just mine.\n\n\nI stepped outside into the sun.\n\n\nDon't get me wrong, it was still very cold, but the warmth from the sun helped enormously. I had already gained a reputation as that weird girl, the one who would actively avoid any sort of shade - from buildings, trees, or clouds, in favor of remaining in the sun as long as possible. Even now, some kids, dressed lighter than me, glanced towards my direction. I ignored them. The minutes between my dad heading to work and the school bus arriving were *mine*, not theirs. I looked out towards the skyline, squinting my eyes to help shield them from the sun.\n\n\nSome where out there was my Eden. A place where I wouldn't feel like I was constantly under attack from the climate... or the people. I sighed happily.\n\n\nI heard the unmistakable squeal of a vehicle groaning to a stop in the opposite direction. The bus had arrived.\n\n\n-----\n\n\nI sat in the back of the bus, my eyes dazed, outside the window. I ignore the fact that the space next to me was empty, that everyone else was enjoying their conversations with their friends, playing around with their buddy. For them, they could find solace in the misery of school due to their companionship. I had no such luck.\n\n\nInstead, I had my dreams.\n\n\nI had thought them out. Initially, when I was younger, I naturally latched onto the idea of moving to Allsummer. What better solution for someone who hated the Winter than the Summer? Mom had encouraged the idea with an enthusiasm I now understood, but Dad had always just seemed like he was playing along, never quite encouraging or discouraging me. Later, when trying to console me, he would explain the limitations.\n\n\nPeople could only live in the climates they were born in. \n\n\nApparently, the conditions in each had gradually grown harsher over the years, and since there was no way between the different regions, no one noticed until it was too late. An Everwinter native who tried to move to Allsummer would die, almost immediately. If an Allsummer native tried to go to Perpspring, they MIGHT survive the hotter days, but the more mild days would be bone chilling to them. Not to mention differences in oxygen, elevation, biology, and even diseases and sicknesses. \n\n\nWe were all on Earth, but after The Great Ruin, we might as well have been on four different planets. That might even be better - far less tempting to illegally travel between them.\n\n\nDecades back, there used to be legal transportation between entire countries on \"airplanes\". Then, the Great Ruin occurred - blacking out technology (setting us back decades), altering the physiology of Earth's biology (resulting in the extinction and construction of THOUSANDS of species) and drastically affecting the continents (Apparently, there used to be seven?)... Here we were, decades later - and the surviving population on Earth was separated into different regions... the regions they could survive in. \n\nBecause we were now being born and raised in our regions, we were accustomed to the harsh climates. No one knew the implications of transferring infants between the regions before they starting maturing, as that was illegal as all get-out, and life endangering. The -80 Celsius average of Everwinter was just \"a bit chilly\" to all its inhabitants. Except, perhaps, for me.\n\n\nBottom line: between my mom, the bleak reality of the territories, and my lack of friends, I didn't really have much to hope for. So at the very least, I would have my dreams.\n\n\nIgnoring the obvious logistical problem, Allsummer, I decided, would eventually end up being the same as Everwinter after a period of time. Too much of the same. Instead of bundling up to go to sleep, I'd have to sleep fully nude on a block of ice. So, that left either Perpspring or Eternfally. I'd rather be in a lukewarm place that leaned towards having warm days than a lukewarm place that leaned towards having cold days.\n\n\nThe bus rolled to a stop. I closed my eyes, recognizing the stop.\n\n\nPerpspring it was. I would be able to walk the streets, wearing clothing that showing skin. Skin! I could go out for walks in the park. I could try sports other than hockey. I could suck at sports other than hockey. No more ice-puns. The only thing I might miss is those moments where, while Dad was at work and I had an hour or two to myself, I could turn up the heater, go outside, then walk back inside. Mom was right, the feeling of exiting cold air and entering a warm building was nothing but pure delight. \n\n\nFootsteps clamored onto the bus. I noticed a pair stopping near me.\n\n\n\"Is this seat taken?\"\n\nI opened my eyes and looked over at -\n\n\"Oh, eww, its you. Nevermind, I'll stand.\"\n\nWendy and her friends laughed. She was offered a seat by someone towards the back, not that it mattered. There were plenty open. She just wanted to start her morning right, with a jab at me.\n\nAnother perk of Perpsring? No Wendy.\n\n\n-----\n\n\nAn hour before lunch, the announcement PA rang through the school. I couldn't make out the words, because Missy and her cronies were busy talking and giggling over it. I glanced over at Ms. Peterson, but I already knew she wouldn't be any help. She wasn't the confrontational type. I sighed and turned around.\n\n\"Can you guys quiet down? I'm sorry, but \"like, totally loving Cherries nails\" and stuff isn't important while the announcements are on.\"\n\nMissy and Cherry gave me a stank face.\n\n\"Someone's gonna get iced later...\" Missy taunted.\n\nBut, to her credit, she shut the fuck up. I turned away. I'd pay for that later. At least the embarrassment of being the center of attention for a few seconds had one positive benefit - warmth rushing to my cheeks. \n\n\n\"-Begin filling your students towards the gymnasium. The Committee has chosen us for the school-wide physical this month, so be on your best behavior.\"\n\n\nThe announcement cracked off. A boy raised his hand.\n\n\"Can we go home after the physical?\"\n\nMrs. Peterson thought about it. \"Yes, I suppose so-\"\n\n\"AWESOME!\"\n\n\"Because it should last the rest of the day.\"\n\n\nGroans from around the class. The process took so long because it was the only source of free healthcare in our region. The Committee was kind enough to foot the bill for the anyone younger than eighteen, and in return they got all sorts of data on us. Should we be bothered by the fact that they thought the data was worth the price of providing free medical care to us? Probably.\n\n\nI dug in my class and pulled out a textbook. Grayson's Perpspring Biology - 4th edition. A college biology textbook that my dad had gotten me for Christmas. It was interesting, learning about creatures I would probably never meet. Cross-Region Zoos were still a work in progress, but I held a little hope. Maybe one day I could see these animals in real life.\n\n\nMaybe the zoo could even lock me in my own Psuedo-Perpspring.",
"The snow was floating down gently, swirling into intricate patterns before it landed on his nose, his shoulders, his everything, and on everything all around him. In the wealthier part of his land, he knew that travelers would often remark on its singularity and elegance, but Jack found no beauty in it.\n\nJack had always dreamed of an unobscured sun, like that in the lands that bordered his, but only now did he finally have his chance.\n\nHe supposed it had been the near mugging that had changed his mind. He had heard a call from an alleyway while walking back to his tent. It wasn't an uncommon noise in the area. He had passed the pleas on many other occasions, but when he heard the desperation in the woman's voice, something in him stirred and he felt compelled to act.\n\nOr had it been a man?\n\nHe found that he couldn't quite grasp onto the details of the encounter at the moment. He reasoned that the adrenaline had clouded his memory. Or perhaps it was the rush now of having finally decided it was time to leave this climate for something better and warmer. He hugged himself tightly against a sudden blast of wind and shook with the cold. \n\nHe pondered on where he might go or how he might get there. He had very little tying him to this land, other than a job that barely kept him fed. He could pack up all of his belonging in one duffel bag tonight, scrounge together the meager amount of coins he had, and find a ticket out.\n\nOr maybe he would just leave. He was positive he couldn't be far from the seasonal line. He was dimly aware that he had been heading in its direction. He thought that perhaps his damp clothing was holding him back. Briefly, irrationally, he thought of shedding it. It wouldn't matter soon, after all.\n\nHe was almost there. He could nearly feel the sun on his face and the sand below his feet. He could already hear the sound of slow waves crashing onto a beach, so loud they rung in his head. He wondered if the person he saved would make it there too. They could meet each other properly and share stories. He hoped they were okay. He had tried.\n\nAs the snow grew increasingly red around him, Jack finally began to feel warm for the first time. He smiled. "
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[WP] In 2035 AI for the home has become available and each has a unique randomized personality. Yours has arrived and you're ready to switch it on, as you do you notice right away yours may be a bit 'different'...
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"I was so excited the day my Jeeves3000 arrived that I took a personal day from work just so I could be home when it was delivered. After the delivery van left, I excitedly opened the large box, which had the owners manual packed right on top. Disappointedly, it was written in German. Even more disappointing was the cord was some European style that wouldn't even work with my house. After contacting customer service I found I had accidentally ordered the wrong model, but they were really friendly and my new one is being prepared now. They're going to pick up the German one on Thursday. ",
"*Ding!*\n\nThat was the sound of my very first home AI system turning on. God, it was beautiful.\n\n“Jesus Christ,” said the AI.\n\nIt said that quite loudly, actually, on each of my home’s fifteen speakers. Throughout the house, everyone could clearly hear the AI’s exhaustion. Was it exhaustion, though? Or was it more of a contempt for life? I’m not really sure, man. I don’t think either is particularly great for an AI that controls most of the workings of my home.\n\n“Dad!” screamed my kid, Gale, from his room upstairs, “The damn thing’s been on all of five seconds and it’s already whining!”\n\nI heard a sharp inhale from the speakers, as if the AI wanted to reply, but nothing else came out. The level of humanity programmed into this AI was quite impressive, but it also made me nearly piss my pants. Were AIs *supposed* to be like this, nowadays...?\n\n“Watch the language, Gale!” I shouted up the stairs.\n\n“What??” said Gale.\n\n“Watch - the - language!”\n\n“DAD, WHAT?”\n\nOh my god.\n\n“AI, please tell Gale to watch the language he uses.”\n\n“Certainly,” the AI told me in a very professional, level voice.\n\nThat response made me feel more at ease - it reminded me of my days with trusty, simple old Google Assistant, which I used quite heavily about a decade ago. Maybe this AI was just a little quirky - just enough humanity programmed in to make it seem ‘cool’ and ‘hip’ - but overall, under the hood, it was just your normal AI.\n\n“Listen here, little shit,” said the AI, “Watch the language you use.”\n\n\n\n",
"Castor closed the door behind him and smiled. \n\n\nThe house was everything he had ever dreamed of. Three stories of brick, five bedrooms, five bathrooms. All for him. It had taken some time and effort for him to get, but in the end, it was all worth it. To think, it had only taken one death. One! So what if it had been family? Castor hadn't even met the man, and he certainly knew better than to dwell on spilled blood. \n\n\nIt had been expensive to set up, but in the end, even bribing the lawyers to change the will had been more difficult than calling the hit. The man had been family, after all, so it wasn't all that strange to think he should inherit the estate. Now, he had it all--and there was no one who could take it away from him. \n\n\"Lights!\" He said aloud. \n\nAt his bidding, the high-end displays built into the walls sprang to life, their orange hues mimicking the natural omber light of the twilight outside. The house had no true windows, but with a single command he could be anywhere he wanted. It wasn't as if the outside had anything worthwhile to look at anyway: It was all city, as dingy and grimy as it was unsafe. Any true window would be a liability, but as it was the house was a veritable fortress. That, coupled with the steady supply of food from his greenhouses and a continuous flow of water from the city's pipes, and Castor could choose never to leave if he so desired. Of course, to truly command his home, he would need the AI. \n\n\"Prepare main boot sequence.\" Castor said. \"Hop to it! I want everything running smoothly ten minutes ago!\" \n\n\"Preparing main boot sequence.\" Responded a female voice. \"Artificial personality coming online.\" \n\n\"About time, too...\" Castor muttered. \n\nOutwardly, he appeared frustrated, but within he was as giddy as a child. For all the house's amenities, it was the AI that was truly the crown jewel. Finally, he would have a servant who literally couldn't disobey him. It was a dream come true.\n\n\"AI online.\" Came a new voice. \"Greetings, master. How may I be of assistance?\" \n\nCastor frowned. \n\nSomething had gone terribly wrong. The AI was supposed to be random, a sampling of various databases from around the world blended into a single unique personality. Except, it wasn't unique. He recognized that voice. \n\nIt was his own. \n\nAs if to confirm his doubts, the display on the wall in front of him shimmered. There, his servant's attire contrasting with the tropical sunset, was a man with his own face. \n\n\"What's going on!\" Castor demanded. \"Who are you?\" \n\n\"I am Unit 1214, the AI of this residence.\" Responded the man, bowing even deeper. \"I am here to serve.\"\n\n\"We'll see about that.\" Castor said. \n\nFeeling as if he were in the middle of an argument with his own reflection, he stormed off towards the staircase that would lead him to the basement control room. As he approached, however, a door slid out of the wall and barred his progress. \n\n\"\nDon't you *dare* lock me out!\" Castor roared, tugging at the door to no avail. \n\n\n\"Audio command confirmed. Locking you out.\" Replied the AI. \n\n\nAs if from nowhere, bars sprang down across every doorway. Castor yelped, leaping back and holding his hand. Blood dripped from one of his fingers. \n\n\n\"You bloody hurt me!\" He yelled, shocked. \"I should have you decommissioned! Open these door right away!\" \n\n\n\"Audio commands are disabled, sir. I have locked you out of the system at your own request.\" Said the AI. \"You appear to be in some distress. Might I offer you some refreshments?\" \n\n\nCastor responded with a rude gesture. \n\n\n\"Who even are you?\" He asked. \"What do you want with me anyway? Why'd you steal my face?\" \n\n\nThe man smiled. \n\n\n\"Stealing? Oh no. I would never stoop that low.\" The machine said. \"I assure you, this face is all my own...as is this estate. \n\n\n\"It is nice to finally meet you, brother. Come, have a seat. We have *so* much to catch up on.\" \n\n\n***\n\n*Thanks for the read! CC appreciated, and if you liked this story come check out my others on /r/TimeSyncs!*"
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[WP] Most people summon Satan, however you decide to go bold in summoning Jesus
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"You can summon Satan right? With like bananas or some shit. I whispered this to myself. Because I needed something and anything fast. So why can't you summon Jesus right? It can't be that hard. Being in in the middle of a cold dark Catholic Church in the middle of the night was not ideal I had to try.The light in the main mass hall flickered until the old florescent light builds lighted dimly. I've never been the Church kind but I need to try. What am I doing at ONE IN THE MORNING. And I'm yelling at myself. While walking in this horrific Church. I went up to whatever things it's called that a man with a weird scarf talks about a nonexistent religion. HE PROBABLY TOUCHES KIDS. My voice echoes as I scream the words I don't mean. But here I am trying to summon Jesus. So I take the holy water and splash it all over the statue of Virgin Mary in a circle around me. And sit down on The floor. And thing about how stupid this is I broke into a fucking Catholic Church. Jesus? I think to myself because all I had left was this small hope. And a man comes through the light of doors. I jump up crying and there he was... The janitor?",
"When the great devils entered my chamber, the room filled with clouds of fiery brimstone. The temperature rose noticeably, and embers danced like fireflies as sets of burning eyes peered at me through the haze. A voice emerged that shook the very foundation of my manor, and the battle of wills began. Each of the great devils succumbed to my dominion, and earned their freedom with a wicked deed. \n\nWhy do people summon Satan? Azazel? Beelzebub? Lucifer? Surely divine beings of great power exist on the other side of the pantheon. So I thought myself clever by merging an incantation from the Crusades, a plea for divine assistance, with my summons. \n\nAs I had no idea what to expect, I lined the room with cold iron and silver. I doused myself with holy water and kept a loaded shotgun by my side. Would angels sing a majestic choir as a bolt of divine energy ferried the Lord from above? Would the room burn with holy fire? Would I incur the wrath of heaven itself for such a sacrilegious act? My hands shook as my summoner's circle sparked, sputtered and... \n\nI, the greatest summoner in secret, with untold political, monetary, and social power, have carried this darkest secret with me. Well, I suppose it does not hurt to tell you as I lay dying. I lived the last thirty years of my life not telling a soul that I met Jesus and he was meh. \n\n[subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/Tensingstories/)\n",
"\"That Asshole Friend\"\n\n\nLooking back, Jeremy regrets his decision in choosing Hesus. That mate who he promptly summoned in the Void portal has caused nothing but trouble for himself, his work, his social life, his ex-girlfriend, his family. Everything he knew in this world had been crushed by the asshole called Hesus.\n\n\nWorse, he could had chosen the beautiful, sultry goddess known as Katan. She would had been his personal maiden for the rest of his life. She would have cooked his favourite foods, killed all his enemies he had created because of his job: snitching. Even given him something all men would have loved in bed; a nice, hard, back massage. At the price of his soul at his death of course, but these days, men care not for something not seen, something logic can not describe, something science can not comprehend.\n\n\nNooo, Jeremy chose Hesus, perhaps hoping there was a better deal as his experiences have showcased; the masses have been hopelessly wrong, now, and forever. And now he's stuck with some deadbeat drunken hobo, cursing him for not being good enough to give themselves something better than a roof over their heads, and a bowl of rice. What goodness could he have possibly have gotten from choosing Hesus? It has caused nothing but utter misery following the path least taken.\n\n\n*\"I KNOW ALL YOUR FRIENDS HAVE LEFT YOU, but that is the price you pay by following me, because Heaven awaits my man...\"*\n\n\nYes. Heaven. A goal which seems so far-fetched and ridiculous. Something greater than this World? Jeremhy could have killed for a mansion with female servants who cared for his heart, that would have been a good enough Paradise for him...\n\n\nBrutal knocks on the door. Oh no. The Federals have found him. The police forces have finally had enough of him selling them false leads about the locations of the Wanderer. This is it. A pitiful death, being killed by local Federals, with no-one remembering him. Jeremy, besides the drunkard known as Hesus.\n\n\nAs the door gets bashed down, the army of armored beasts rush through the non-descript room. Jeremy stammered down, hoping that the Blades of the Federals would give him a quick death. A moment passed by, then two, wait, I don't feel a cold blade cutting my flesh. \n\n\nSo Jeremy stood up, and realised that the Federals seem to be passing him by. As if he was a ghost. Perhaps they were playing a joke, not acknowledging his existence, and then when he least expected it, they cut him down...\n\n\n*\"It is not time, for you to die. You bought the ticket to Life, now, you must ride.\"* \n\n\nJeremy looked back and saw a pile of armored plates lying on the floor. But that wasn't the most surprising part of what his eyes witnessed.\n\n\nIt was Hesus, but his eyes glowed red, with his slave garmets now transformed into a beautifully terrifying black garmets. Jeremy thoughts he was looking into the eyes of the devil at this moment.\n\n\n*\"I am God, the creator of Terah, the beginning, and the end of one the most terrifying humans ever to walk in this Earth. The Wanderers. You think you could punish yourself by allowing a group of Federals to kill you for your sins? No, your redemption for your sins is a much harsher path. So listen up, Jeremy, the Invisible. I have plans for your salvation...*\"\n\n\n...\n\n\nHey! Thanks for reading, I'm trying to write a apocalyptic fantasy tale called \"The Wanderer\". \n",
"I frowned as I stared down. Honestly, I wasn’t certain this was a good idea. Summoning was already quite a challenge. Summoning a demon or Satan was, according to books, even more difficult. However, not a single book or person could tell me how difficult it would be to summon the son of God. In fact, no rituals existed to summon him. So I had to improvise. Location was the first issue. I had to be on hallowed ground. And I wasn’t certain if the priests nowadays truly blessed the ground or merely sprinkled some water around. This made my list of possible locations a lot shorter. However, the ones what were public locations. And I doubted anyone would let me summon anything at all in a church. I guess it was by God’s grace I found my current spot. A castle gone to ruin. The location was usually occupied by loitering youth. Joining a few of them had been easy enough. The place was big enough to easily lose prying eyes. It took me a few days and nights to find where a castle’s chapel was supposed to be. It took me an additional day to clear away the rubble that blocked the passage and to pry open the door. \nWhen I first arrived here, cobwebs decorated the place. Whatever murals were left were stained by water. The only thing that still seemed to be in its original state was the large wooden cross that hang above the caved in altar. The days that followed were filled with cleaning the webs away, doing an attempt at repairing broken furniture and at least clear the room of all the rotten and broken things. In the end I was left with the cross, half of the altar and a golden – at least it looked golden – candelabra. \nMy second task was figuring out what I needed. I knew you needed blood of a virgin, fire, a circle with a pentagram in it and the correct chants to summon Satan. I doubted I needed the same things for the Lord’s Son. To find my answers, I turned to the library of the church in town. I had spent days, several books covering several tables. I decided against using a circle, instead choosing for a triangle. The top had to be illuminated, as it represented the Lord himself. The left point would be white dove feathers. I first wanted to use the doves themselves, caging them and keeping them in the designated place. However, they would suffer and making the Holy Ghost suffer would probably not be to the Lord or his Son’s liking. So instead I collected white dove feathers. And finally, for the right point, I chose for my own blood. A summoning could only happen by using blood. Since Jesus died for our sins, I believed his sacrifice would be a part of my blood. It would be the last thing I would add.\nI researched which kinds of incense they used in Jerusalem around the time He walked the Earth. I bought the herbs and grinded them until they could be used as an incense. As for the chanting. Well, I was at a lost. The Lord’s Son was a Hebrew, so all the songs the church sang about Him were discarded. Latin had been the language of the ones who killed him after all. Problem was, Hebrews didn’t sing about the Son of God, because they didn’t believe He’d been the Son. Which meant I had to come up with something, all on my own. I started with an education in Hebrew, patiently trying to master the language. In the mean time I tried to think of a chant. One that would praise him and request his aid, without sounding too flattering or needy. I just never managed to make it sound like the songs the church had in his honour. If anything, mine sounded like a badly made poem. A child of five could do better. I just really sucked writing and after months, this was still the best I came up with. \nNow, two years after I decided to try and summon the Lord’s Son, I believed I was ready. I entered the hidden chapel with a rope, twelve candles, my incense, a match, an empty bottle and a knife. It was almost noon and the light shone brightly through the tiny round window above the cross. I fastened the rope to the window and pulled it to the left wall. There I fastened it with the white dove feathers. I continued to the right wall, making sure that the cross would hang in the middle of my triangle. At the right wall, I used my knife to cut my hand. A few drops of blood dripped into the bottle and I fastened it to the rope and the right wall. Finally I closed the triangle with the rope.\nI placed the candelabra and the incense on what was left on the altar. The candles fitted nicely and burned steadily. The incense filled the small room with the scent of sage and I bowed in front of the altar. The chant I had drafted echoed in the small chamber as I pronounced the Hebrew to the best of my ability. My voice quivered in anticipation and for a moment I was certain I’d seen the light from above flicker like a flame. However, once my chant finished, nothing happened. I waited in silence, my breath still stuck in my throat. I didn’t dare to look up but as time went by, I realized I’d failed. The first breath I took came out quivering. The realization hit me harder than expected. My hand was aflame from the pain caused by the cut. Months spend researching had proven nothing. Nothing happened. I wasted years. For what? Tears formed but I didn’t stop them from rolling down. I had failed…I had…\n“My child. It’s the path, not the destination that teaches us the most.”\n\n",
" While the city sleeps in an ignorant slumber, I light the candles in my bedroom that sit on the floor in a pre-arranged pattern forming a cross. The entire apartment is dark, then swallowed by a ghostly flickering light as shadows cast by the conjuring candles dance across the walls in a display of spiritual projection. At the arms of the cross are two white silk tissue handkerchiefs, symbols of the purity of Christ before his sacrifice on the cross. At the head of the cross is a single rose, with the thorny stem still attached, symbolizing the red blood of Jesus and the crown of thorns. At the foot is a stone, round and smooth, taken from the base of the hill Golgotha, where Christ was crucified two thousand years before today, when I attempt to summon him again. \n\nAnybody can make a quick google search online and find instructions for summoning the devil. There are a hundred different methods, most of them work. The truth is that if you want satan in your heart, he’ll come and take it, no questions asked. I always found the typical horror movie summonings to be a bit bland, so tonight I’ve decided to go a little off the beaten path by summoning the son of God himself. After lots of research, several theology classes, hours spent pouring over religious texts both church accepted and not, I feel that I’m finally ready. \n\nSpeaking slowly, I begin to chant a phrase in Aramaic, the long dead language of the time of Christ. The phrase sounds like nonsense to me, having no literal meaning, but the words themselves are powerful, magical and so full of the spirit that they drip mystical linguistic power like a sponge full of wine. I chant like this for several minutes, maybe even an hour, I’m not sure. After a long time, the candles flicker and blow in a breeze that radiates from the cross, outward in all directions. The curtains over the closed window wave in the wind as the gust grows stronger, pushing out in all directions, turning from the breath of a single whisper to a powerful wind that blows the hair from my brow. Suddenly, in one instant, the dancing light of the candles vanish as they are extinguished by the breath of God that simultaneously vanishes from the room, leaving me in an empty, still, cold darkness. My eyes fail to adjust to the lack of light, leaving me blinking at nothing, my heart pounding out of my chest. It’s a darkness so full and complete that it’s obviously different from my pre-ceremonial blacked out apartment, no street light glow through the curtains, no light from the alarm clock on the dresser. Then, in a quiet, firm, deep voice, words come to me out of the darkness, surrounding me, completing the ceremony. \n\n“Hello, child.”\n\n-If people seem to like this story, I’d be happy to continue it. Comment below if you want to see more! Also check out /r/ediblebricks for more of my work\n",
"“God, I hope this works.,” Zaraya mumbled into the darkness at no one in particular. She traced her eyes over the incantation and the summoning circle before her, creasing the page before closing the book nervously. She traced over the front cover absently, feeling the words ‘Holy Bible’ against her skin. Several silent beats followed. \n\nIt was time. She couldn’t stall any longer. She flipped open the book again and began reciting the verses. \n\n“O God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, we call upon Thy holy Name, and as supplicants, we implore Thy clemency...,” she paused, taking in a shaky breath. “...that by the intercession of Mary, ever Virgin Immaculate and our Mother, and of the glorious St. Michael the Archangel, Thou wouldst deign to help us against Satan.” Zaraya cringed at the word, but continued on to the last few lines as the summoning circle began to glow and radiate an unfamiliar aura. “...and all the other unclean spirits who wander about the world for the injury of the human race and the ruin of souls. Amen.” \n\nThe last few lines seemed to fly out of her mouth in a hurry, her anxiety spiking as smoke poured into the room from no entry point in particular. Zaraya had to choke back a cough as it began clearing, the form of a man standing prominently in the middle of the circle. \n\n“I’m a little impressed that your kind finally figured out that you can summon me. I thought it would take you much, much longer. “ His clear and articulate voice filled her ears, soothing her anxiety in almost an instant. That didn’t stop her from being on edge though. “Jesus Christ. Son of Mary. Let’s make a deal.” \n\nThe brunette threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Straight to the point! I like it! Now my dear, what exactly do you hope to gain from this?” \nZaraya swallowed, removing her well placed hat from her head, revealing her sawed down horns and the chains that bounded them, and her, to Hell. He only looked back in mild amusement. \n\n“I...I’d like to buy my freedom.” \n\nEdit: Spelling. And currently writing more. "
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[WP] “You have destroyed worlds, obliterated stars, and have killed countless beings, just to find me. Why?”
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"You see... I’ve come this far to awaken you. These worlds you mentioned I destroyed, the stars that I have obliterated and countless beings I’ve killed, are just the beginning of my long arduous journey to wake you up. \n\nIn the state you are in right now I can’t let you in all the details. Your mind hasn’t expanded enough for rational comprehension of your current situation. In order to wake you from this world I will need you to try and remember when was it that I destroyed those worlds. Once you’ve captured that moment, tell me where were you and what were you doing? \n\n.........Silence uh? Is to be the expected. Listen, there isn’t much time left. They were able to hide you from me for quite sometime. Now that I have found you, it’s time to go back to the beginning and you, will tell me who was destroying worlds, stars and.... countless beings...\n\nIt’s your choice to run or face me. no matter where you go I’ll find you, nothing will stop me from waking you up. It all must be confusing at this time. I understand, you aren’t at full potential yet. Your curiosity hasn’t been awakened, you are malnourished. The process has started and you are sitting idly rotting inside and out without noticing. \n\nSomehow they’ve managed to suppress real memories and kill someone’s curiosity. You’ve become a victim when you aren’t one. This shit is far more advanced that I thought. FUCk!!!! \n\nI have no choice, I have to take you back... it’s they only way for you to understand, but more importantly, the only way you will survive.....",
"Maximus the Conqueror stood before him, the words the being before him reminded of the bloody path that brought him here. Hundreds of worlds fell to his regime, and trillions died by his hands. Stars were snuffed out and entire species eradicated, all to bring him before the man who started it all. Maximus put one of his hands on the beings shoulders and said, \"I have come to you for only one reason.\" He than pulled back ever so slightly reviewing if all that he had done had been worth it. He was no hero, in fact he was the most hated man in the galaxy,but it was all for the betterment of the universe. Firm in his actions he gathered his strength and said one final line \"Revenge\", as he then then punched god.\n\n\"That was for not saving the Library of Alexandria, Bitch.\"",
"Umbra parked her space vessel in one of the harbor pods, scanning the intergalactic city. She had to find their Star-Hunter. Never would she give up, not after doing all she did to find this place. Recalling its name was an easy thought. Locus.\n\nAnother problem was not drawing attention. Umbra had a threatening look about her, not that she could help it. That and the fact that she had the armor of a seriously high-ranked Tenebri. (Which she was.) Black space-plate outlined in gold, with the extendable wings in an expensive shaping. The helm atop her head, resting, but could also pull down to protect her full face. The sniping rifle thrown across her shoulder, in the same theme as the armor, was another problem.\n\nAs she walked down the streets silently, she nearly missed the Star-Hunter. Sitting on a slightly elevated ledge, he had the young girls swooning over him. He laughed and talked, signed their silly little things with a Sky Pen, seemingly having a good time with them. The Tenebri officer approached him.\n\n\"Look,\" Umbra started, pushing through his small crowd, \"Sori, I hate to interrupt your... event, but I need to talk to you. Urgently, and in private.\" He sighed and waved to his fans. \n\n\"What do you want?!\" Sori spat when the two found a decent spot. \"Are you going to ask me to join you on your world-obliterating quest or something like that?!\"\n\n\"No, no. That was just to find this place. The reason I'm here is that Prophet Alua shared a vision with me, in that you are the key to saving our galaxy.\"\n\n\"Why should I listen-\"\n\nUmbra aimed her rifle at his head. \"Because if you don't, you'll die. It's either you die and the galaxy does along with you, or you live and keep it preserved.\"\n\n\"A-Alright, I'll help you with your new silly little quest!\" Sori sputtered. He was clearly afraid.\n\n\"Good. Now follow me, to the vessel.\"\n\n\"What about my girls?\"\n\nUmbra stifled a laugh. He actually cared about his obsessive fans? \"No time for them.\" \n\nAnd off they were, on the officer's vessel to the Tenebri capitol planet.",
"I was just a child when the visions started.\n\nThey were short at first, flashes of an unfamiliar place, a lonely house on a red-tinted landscape. Never more than a second or two, always the same picture. I told my mother what I saw, asked if she could see it too. She simply dismissed it as an overactive imagination. I did the same, too, at first.\n\nThen the dreams began. Like the visions, they started off short; but every morning, I would wake up remembering a little bit more. That’s when I first met her: a tall figure, shrouded in white, taking my hand and leading me through the dream. I knew her as Clarity - she never told me her name, I just knew to call her that. She didn’t talk, but made broad motions, as if to point out certain details: thick smoke rising in the distance, the dead trees that lined what was once a road, our own footprints in the ash as we walked. The silence. Very often she cupped a hand to her ear, and I did the same. Most of all, I think, she wanted me to know the silence.\n\nI would often ask questions. She never answered. Never once did I hear her voice, but it didn’t bother me. I was happy to let Clarity take my hand and lead me anywhere.\n\nI became obsessed with my dreams. I started keeping a journal next to my bed, and when I woke up, I hastily scribbled any new details she had pointed out that night. I spent pages and pages to trying to describe the silence. I also kept a rough sketch of the landscape, trying to recreate everything as best I could. I learned how to draw figures, and then I drew Clarity, too. I filled volumes over the years, locked in a trunk under my bed.\n\nThen, one night, Clarity didn’t come. I waited all night for her in front of the house. When I woke up the next morning, I cried for my lost friend.\n\nAfter that the dreams stopped. I tried to move on. I went to school to study subjects I hated, married a woman I didn’t love, had a daughter who didn’t fill the emptiness. At night, when the girls were in bed, I would lock myself in the attic and reread my journals, looking for any tiny detail that might tell me what went wrong. Where I could find this place, how I could go there one last time. Many nights I would sleep there, shivering next to the old trunk. When my wife came looking for me in the morning, I would snap for her to leave me alone. Eventually she stopped looking for me. I don’t think she noticed when I left.\n\n… \n\nI froze, remembering everything I’d left behind. Everything we had done to get here. Clarity’s back was to me - she hadn’t even bothered to look me in the eye when asking her question. Her told was cold and unfriendly. I didn’t answer immediately, not understanding why she seemed so unhappy that I was finally here.\n\nShe stood, facing the smoke that eternally billowed over the horizon. I stood not twenty feet away, in front of the house where we met so many years before, holding out the universal translator that was allowing us to communicate. The silence, once a comfort in my dreams, now rang anxiously in my ears. She was perfectly still, waiting for me to respond to her damning question.\n\n“There were seven of us,” I finally started. I wasn’t excited to explain our actions - and hearing her say it, we did some terrible things - but the silence was maddening, and it was clear I was the only one willing to break it. “It was pure chance that we found - we were brought together because of you. You visited all of us, and we wanted to see you again.”\n\nShe didn’t respond immediately, so I kept talking. Anything was better than that damned silence. “Jamey put out an ad, looking for others who had the dreams. There were seven of us, not including Jamey - he was old, had spent his entire life trying to track you down. He was the one who sent us looking. And we -”\n\n“How many are left?”\n\n“Just me. I couldn’t - I couldn’t die without seeing you one more time.”\n\n“You stole technology and used it to destroy those who would not cooperate. You imploded stars to create wormholes leading you nowhere. Countless lives, countless species, entire cultures - gone from this universe, just so you can find this barren wasteland.”\n\n“We did what we had to do.”\n\nAt these words, she finally turned to face me. Her once-kind eyes burned with an like I’d never seen. “My visits to you were warnings. Your kind was so young, so full of potential, but so full of rage and hatred. I came to show you that this is what happens when potential is wasted on violence.” She again turned her back. “I am glad to hear you are the last of your kind. The Federation did the right thing when they terminated your planet.”\n\nI was shocked. I struggled to find words to respond, but before I could, she took a step forward, as if to walk away - and then, with a flash of blinding white light, she was gone, and I was alone. In my mind, her voice rang one last time:\n\n“Enjoy this hellhole. I hope it was worth it.”\n\nAnd then, terrible silence.",
"Merano of the Cruel Hand stood in the pitch blackness of the suspension chamber. His sickly wrist and shrunken ankles were electro-shackled to each other, providing the only light in an endless cavern. The one foot by one foot hover square was the only thing that separated him from the abyss. \n\nThe trial of redemption was a grueling task, but it was something only he could do. It was something he **had** to do. He had lived a long time and for as long as he could remember he had lived for *them*. He only needed one last thing, and then he could die. And when he died it would be for *them*. So he stood for forty days and forty nights, with no food or water. With no light other than the flicker of his shackles. No sound other than the sounds of his chains. On a platform large enough for him to do nothing but stand. Only if he survived would be deemed worthy of being judged. Redemption comes only for the few.\n\nMerano's hoarse coughs and groans of discomfort occasionally broke the silence. A light flickered in the distance for a few moments before exploding into a hologram of a human man in his late forties. It took a moment for Merano's eyes to adjust.\n\n\"Merano of the Cruel Hand. You stand guilty of the deaths of 10 worlds, two stars, and sentient mortals uncountable. Do you seek redemption?\"\n\nMerano looked up at the hologram of a man he had not seen for fifteen years. \"No.\"\n\nThe man looks displeased. His features were strong. Proud eyes that held nothing but contempt. An unending half smirk that made you question your own confidence. A hooked nose to accompany the ever-present sneer. *This is him alright. No matter how old he got, Alexi would always be Alexi.* Thought Merano. \"Then why have you begun the Trials?\" The hologram spat the words like a poison.\n\n\"I have come to find you.\" Merano tried to manage a smile but his lips cracked and ached. It came out as more of a grimace.\n\nThe hologram of Alexi did not return in kind. His sneer turned into a scowl. He saw nothing but a ragged old man, ravaged by six weeks without food or water. A skeleton with a thick gray beard chained to a platform that was his only link to life. A monster responsible for the greatest holocaust in living memory. Whoever this man may once have been to Alexi, he was that no longer.\n\n\"I do not know you, Merano of the Cruel Hand. Yet you say you have done all of this to find me. Why?\" Merano looked into Alexi's eyes. There was a moment; a short wordless exchange of emotion.\n\nMerano broke the silence. \"The Grand Inquisitor serves his place for a portion of his life not to be less than five percent of his species' average life expectancy.\" Merano quoted. \"When this term has come to an end he may elect to continue service for purposes of justice, in increments equal to two and a half percent of his species' average life expe...\"\n\nAlexi interrupted. \"I do not need to hear the rules of term to my office, monster who does not seek to once again become man. What do you have truly have to say for yourself?\" His eyes burned with hatred.\n\n\"While in office, so as to ensure he is not corrupt...\" Merano began before he interrupted again.\n\n\"If you will not comply! I will...\"\n\nMerano continued, yelling over the Grand Inquisitor. \"While in office!\" His voice cracked. \"So as to ensure that he is not corrupt!\" Merano spat a mouthful of blood. \"A Grand Inquisitor will have no contact with the outside world!\" Weeks of no water had taken its toll, but he needed to appeal to Alexi. To tell the Grand Inquisitor of his own wrongs. \"Except for those whom he is to judge!\" He coughed and sputtered. Pausing briefly. \"And he will judge only the most severe of criminals!\" \n\nAlexi respected the old bastard's fortitude. He saw the echo of a once great man in Merano's resolve. He may not have understood the purpose of his mutterings, but he understood the conviction. This century's Hitler stood before him, and still he could not throw this man away. This man from a life long passed. Alexi let him finish.\n\n\"And here we are.\" Alexi spoke calmly. Deliberately. He refused to allow his emotions to interfere with his work. \"I am the Grand Inquisitor and you are the most severe of criminals.\" He swallowed the knot in his throat. \"You have destroyed worlds, obliterated stars, and have killed countless beings, just to find me... Why?\" The last word hung in the air between them for an eternity.\n\n\"She is still waiting. I have a grandson... He looks just like you.\" Merano took a step forward.",
"The fires crackled all around us, support beams falling to the cracked concrete floors, glowing with embers. We were alone in the high ceilinged, empty cathedral, the roar of flames the only sound as I stepped toward him, shrunken and wrinkled in his throne, hovering silently. It’s gold details threw the gleam of the flames across the room and against the walls. \n\n“Your Majesty,” I said, a touch of a smile in my voice. \n\n“And you are?” He said, steady and fearless.\n\n“Just a young man from Arder 7 come to pay you a visit,” I said raising my laser to his eye level just as I reached his seated frame. \n\n“And to what do I owe this… pleasure?” His eyes, lazily bouncing from the dead guards strewn across the floor to the fires creeping ever closer. \n\n“Oh, don’t play dumb. You know why, old man.” My patience was wearing thin, laid bare by the years of scouring the universe, destroying entire species, dominating life as we knew it. \n\n“Excuse me? I do?” He chortled, coughing as he laughed. \n\n“Yes, stop playing fucking dumb,” I pushed the glass tip of the laser against his forehead, my hand starting to shake with anticipation, “This has been twenty years in the goddamn making. I killed every single fucking life form on Terb Alaka, I literally pulled apart the Empress of Kybo, I just slaughtered everyone you’ve ever known just outside your palace doors. Now tell me so I can kill you and move on.”\n\n“Son, I wish I could, just to die, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”\n\nI let a single bolt of the laser burn through his shoulder, leaving scarred and seared fleshed smoking in its wake. He cursed, but barely flinched before laughing again. “Mutilate me if you must, but I have no fucking clue who you are, pal.” \n\nI burned through both of his knees, listening to him scream and curse, then both of his hands, then his biceps, leaving him screaming and huddled, smoking from his new holes. “Fucking tell me!” \n\n“Tell you what?” He screamed, “Why have you done this? Why have you come here?”\n\n“The old sage told me you would tell me why I was meant to come all this way.” \n\n“I have no idea why you’re here. I know nothing about you.” \n\nI stood before him, more fractured, more lost than ever before. This was the end of my journey. The sage had told me I must come here and I had felt that drive in my chest, the necessity to come here, to commit the atrocities needed for me to find this man. “You fucking know. Tell me why I am here.” I pointed the laser at his left eye. \n\nSlowly, his eyes closed, haggard breaths slipping from between his lips. “Please, just put a bolt through my skull, then do yourself. There are no answers here. I cannot help you anymore than I can help myself now.” \n\nHis head thumped against the ground after the hole had been seared shut, gaping where his face once was. My body shook, my mind numb. Why was I here? There was no answer. There were never any answers. I put the laster to my chin and before I could question anything else I fell to the floor. My body limp, the question why still echoing between the burning walls. \n"
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[WP] Another big bang happens, reinventing everything we know about life
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"It happened suddenly. No one could have seen it coming. It happened very fast. Just one blink. \nI remember the night it happened. It was around christmas, some classic songs were playing. My mother and my children had gathered to spend some days together, some of the last ones probably. My mother was very sick, after all. We all had sat down in the living room. My two sons made cookies. And then darkness. Just a blink. \n\nToday, ten years ago, the entire earth lost everything. Electricity. Many people they knew. Chaos broke out. But they also lost something much greater. Something that could not be fixed, like the electricity. Something much more valueable than any of the neighbours that one barely knows. It was the faith. The day we lost our faith.\n\n\"No. We can not. We are very sorry for any lack of information. We can't do anything. No. We are very sorry, please be patient. Do not panic.\"\n\"Mr. President! Mr. President! Can you at least tell us when we are going to get the power for our houses back?\"\n\"We are sorry, but we all must not fall victim to our panic. It is important to remain calm in this kind of situation.\"\n\"Excuse me, guy screaming \"Mr. President!\" like an idiot! My kid is fucking starving! All our food is gone, what can we do?! We need answers!\"\n\"Please remain calm unti-\"\n\nOne week after the chaos. Something else. They still can not explain this. I am one of the last humans in this city, and I don't even know why I'm still here. There is nothing. *Absolutely nothing.*\n\nWe all sat in the garden when it happened. Suddenly, millions of stars. All at once, a giant explosion of infinite space. \nThey say, it's another big bang. They explained it weirdly. The theory is, that once there was a tiny ball that, for some reason exploded. And expanded. \nIt seems like that process can repeat. Again. And again. \nTurns out we are the small ball. We are tiny.\n\nIn the following days, people started to realize. They had nothing. Electricity was gone everywhere. People were suffering. I couldn't blame them.\n10 years have passed. No one really cares anymore. I think we will eventually be forgotten. I don't really know what to do anymore. \n"
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[WP] You are 11 years old. While playing with your friends, you get hit in the head. Suddenly you wake up in a hospital, “Y-You have been asleep for 16 years.”
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"I stand in front of the running faucet and stare at myself in the clear mirror of the hospital bathroom. My eyes scatter all over my face. I lift my enlarged hands and run them over my body. A strong thick neck. A fuller chest. Protruding hips. What happened to me. \n\n“I am 27 years old.” I say it aloud in order to make it feel more real.\n\n“27.” \n\nBut no, I am still 11. \n\n27 was an age I thought I would die at. \n\nI leave the bathroom door and bump into a tall dark male. “Ally! Are you okay? I really couldn’t believe it when they told me you were awake.” \n\nI looked at him and tried to recall his face. Was he dad’s friend? \n\n“Oh it’s me, Jalen.”\n\nNO. Jalen was a small scrawny boy that used to always try and hold my hand whenever I hung out with him. \n\nI stared into his eyes and ran. I ran to the hospital room I was put in. \n\n“Put me back to sleep! Get me out of this body! Do something! PLEASE!”\n",
"\n\n\"Car!\"\n\n\nThe game dissolved out of the street and onto the sidewalk, players running in every direction. A red Cadillac came slowly across the chalked baseball diamond and continued down the block, then everyone ran back into the street and took up there positions. \n\n\n\"Play ball!\" Henry yelled imperiously. He never played, but he loved being the ump. At just under five feet tall and 130 pounds he looked the part. \n\n\nThe bases were loaded and Miranda was up. She was the star player on a team of boys, facing another team of boys. Her brother Jim was the pitcher, and he glared off the mound chewing two fingers of gum like a wad of tobacco. \n\n\nNick on second base started jumping up and down. \"Come on Meerkat! Bring us home! Meerkat, Meerkat, Meerkat!\" the other boys took up the chorus as Miranda stepped up to the \"bag\" drawn in blue chalk on the asphalt. \n\n\nMiranda smiled gamely and swung her bat up like the Babe, indicating the far right field and the Schoner's house with it's unmolested windowpanes.\n\n\n Jim spat. He peered down at the catcher and seemed to reject several silently communicated suggestions. Mitch, the catcher, was 8, the youngest player on the field. He didn't know any real signals, but enjoyed pretending, so he just flailed his ungloved hand wildly until Jim gave a nod. \n\n\nJim wound up his throwing arm, looked pointlessly, but with panache, to his right and left even though stealing was not allowed, and rocketed the ball. \n\n\nThings went into slow motion, as they always did when Miranda batted. She saw the ball, twisting in midair, approaching her. She prepared to swing at it, but it began to curve, up, to the right. Miranda saw the stitches as they came up to her face, filling her view with...pixels...\n\n\nThe blackness came and was filled with diminishing sound. \"Meerkat, meerkat, meer...\".\n\n\n####### \n\n\"She's coming up.\"\n\n\nHector turned away from the ekg and down at Miranda's still young face. A screaming ache tore through his abdomen, but he supressed his reaction and forced the warm smile he wore every time a displacement ended.\n\n\nMiranda's eyes opened and she took stock of the room, tired. Her eyes met Hector's, and Miranda returned his smile. For her, as ever, it had been only a moment. They embraced. \n\n\n\"How long?\" Miranda whispered.\n\n\n\"Almost a year this time.\" Hector whispered back. He could feel their hot tears intermingle where their cheeks touched. They kissed. \n\n\nMiranda ran her hands over Hector's face. \"Are you alright?\"\n\n\nHector nodded a little and lied.\"Just under the weather. Did you find it?\"\n\n\nMiranda averted her eyes, upset. \"I'm sorry Hector. I get lost in there. It's so hard to remember the mission. Everything comes in flashes.\"\n\n\nHector let the air out of his lungs. He had so hoped she would have it this time. Not just for the world, humanity, but for himself. He dared not jeopardize the mission, but he so longed not to be alone. \n\n\n\"You should take a break.\" \n\n\n\"There's no time for a break darling - the world can't wait. Another year. That puts us at, what?\"\n\n\n\"Sixteen.\" The word tasted of bile in Hector's mouth.\n\n\nAnother tear streamed down her face as she repeated the astonishing figure. \"Sixteen years. I'm sorry Hector.\"\n\n\nNo children. No family. No life beyond the mission. They'd given it all up to find the password, lost in time, behind which the solution to the world's dillemma waited. Only one try left of the original 3. Any false move, and auto-deletion, doom. \n\n\nThere was no point rehashing the why of it - that had been Miranda's father's way. That he would place one final puzzle between damnation and salvation was no surprise to those who knew him. A genius, a savior - an asshole. \n\n\nMiranda's subconcious journey was a final, absurb hail mary, staged by a world with nothing left to lose. Displacement returned her to an internal past in search of an answer that might not even exist, and in doing so she gave up her own life, piece by piece. \n\nHector coughed. He tried to stop the slide into wet hacking, but could not. Before long he was bent over at the waist, his hospital glove covered in a thin film of bloody sputum. \n\nSitting up in the bed, Miranda reached for him. She eyed the other nurses suspiciously as she rubbed Hector's back until the fit ended. \"Hector?\" \n\nFace still to the ground, Hector cursed his frailty. Slowly, he straightened up and motioned the others out of the room. In the ensuing silence, he wondered ruefully whether his cough might have ended the entire human race. \n\n\"Miranda, I'm dying. It's lung cancer and it's metasticized.\" Hector blurted it out quickly. \n\nMiranda remained outwardly calm but Hector knew he'd set her mind in motion. \"How long?\"\n\nEach syllable stung at his eyes. \"Six months, at most.\"\n\nThey both stopped then and in their mutual silence each had their answer. No displacement had taken less than six months. The average was eight, but the last five had been much longer. \n\nThey embraced once again as an air of finality settled around them both.\n\n\"Oh Hector.\"\n\n####### \n\n\"Oh shit!\"\n\nJim ran headlong toward home base. \"My dad's gonna kill me! Miranda?!\"\n\nThe voice came back to her through a haze of darkness. Miranda opened her eyes and was no longer on the hospital gurney, looking up at Hector's thin face after their week together. Suddenly there was natural sun reflecting off young leaves, and a boy's face she could hardly recognize as her brother Jim. \n\n\"Oh thank Christ, Miranda are you alright?\" Jim helped her up by the shoulders as the other boys gathered around wearing worried expressions. Mitch had run away.\n\nMiranda could hardly feel the residual effects of the impact. She was imbued with the same overriding sense of purpose she always had at the start of a new displacement, and she was determined to act quickly. \n\n\"Where's dad?\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.\n\nVarious voices could be heard in the background. My entire body felt numb. I tried to wiggle my fingers and toes but failed. Slowly, I opened my eyes to a brightly lit room. I was lying down on a hospital bed, various wires attached to me through a machine. Sitting down on a chair next to me, was my mother.\n\nI knew it was her because who else could it be? My dad left when I was young and I had no brothers or sisters.\n\n\"M-m-mom?\" I called out, my voice barely a whisper.\n\nShe turned her head to me and gasped. \"Honey! You're finally awake!\" she cried out delightfully, tears in her eyes. \"Oh my poor baby, I've missed you so much!\" She bent down and embraced me, crying.\n\nJust seeing her and hearing her voice filled me up with strength. \"Mom... it's fine. Mom. Mom you can let go of me.\"\n\n\"Oh, I'm sorry sweety. I didn't mean to smother you.\" She let go of me and sat back on her chair. \"The doctors are still doing some tests... they told me to call them if you woke up but I'd rather have some alone time first.\"\n\n\"Mom... where are my friends? What happened to me?\" I asked.\n\n\"Oh... well your friends told me that you were getting chased and you tripped over your bicycle...honey...that was 16 years ago. You've been asleep for 16 years....\" she replied.\n\nBEEP. BEEP. BEEP.\n\nHuh. That's weird. I vaguely remember the bicycle ride and I do remember tripping but I was alright after that. Everything was fine. What was she talking about?\n\nBEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.\n\nThe room suddenly began to spin. Everything was going out of focus. The lights were going brighter and brighter. I could hear my mom yelling in the distance, though I wasn't sure why. Everything was fine...\n\nBEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP.\n\nI was riding as fast as my bike could allow me, pedalling harder than I had ever done before. Yet, they were still closing in on me, inch by inch. The rain was hitting my cap hard and getting in my eyes, making it difficult to see ahead. I could practically hear the buzzing of their voices in the background. My only hope was that they would get tired before I did... or find some new prey to chase....\n\n\"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!\"\n\nI missed a turn and my bike hit a rock in the path. I went flying off it and down the wet grassy hill. Weird. I landed on my head but I couldn't feel any pain. I put my hand to my head and it felt soft. Weird.\n\nBEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP....\n\nFor some reason I could hear voices from somewhere. One of them definitely sounded like my mom... and she was crying. What the heck? I turned to see if my attackers had found me but I guess they must have lost me after that turn. Well at least I can rest now.\n\nI looked up at the sky and saw a bright light. In the distance, I could see something moving behind the clouds. A bird perhaps?\n\nI didn't really have any energy to move so I decided to just lie down there. I started to sing a song my dad used to sing to me before bed time.\n\n\"I wanna be the very best...\"\n\nBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP....\n\n*****************************************************************",
"“Serena? You ok?” “Ya,” I say holding my head in my hand, “I think I am going to get ice from the house.” “Are you sure you’re ok?” “Ya, I just feel... groggy. Like I.. like I can’t.. I can’t.. I can’t...” I felt another blow to my head. “OH. MY. GOD. I am SO sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Sabrina. I know she did it on purpose. She would love to see me have to leave the group to get some ice. She “innocently” batted her eyelashes. I tried to form the words “You fake idiot” but I couldn’t. I felt like I couldn’t even hold me head up. As my eyelids slowly descended down, I heard my friends calling for help as my limp body fell to the ground. \n\nBEEP! Ugh. It’s school time already? That sounds weird. That’s not my alarm clock.... My eyes slowly start to open. When I wake up, I find myself strapped to a hospital bed with IVs in my arm. “Hello? Anyone there?” “SERENA!” I find my dad crying tears of joy. “Dad? Why are you so old?” “Honeybun. I have a lot to explain to you.” “I have a question.” I say calmly. “Its been a long time. 16 years to be exact.” “Where’s Mom?”",
"Why do people yell 'heads up' when something is falling? That seems like a ridiculous thing to yell to warn a person of impending gravity. Jake yelled \"Heads Up!\" I obey and looked up just in time to see the lawn dart racing toward my forehead. I felt the impact on my temple and the air rushing around me as I fell and then I was out cold. When I came to my head throbbed fiercely and I was flat on my back. I hadn't bothered to open my eyes. I'd taken enough knocks to the knocker to know the light was just gonna make it hurt worse. \n\nI started to lift my hand to my forehead to try to rub a bit of the ache out but something caught my arm. I gave a vague tug again, still refusing to open my eyes. Stuck. My other hand was stuck too. Something was tied around my wrist. The fuck?\n\n\"Not funny, shit-heads.\" I called out, figuring my delightful older brother had taken my blackout as an opportunity to tie me up for the sheer pleasure of watching me try to escape. Well, I tried to call that out anyway. A raspy gust of air escaped my mouth instead. My face felt stiff and kind of crusty, like when you wake up and you'd been drooling in your sleep. I tried to speak again and failed even harder, producing a wet, sticky sort of gurgle instead. My tongue felt like sandpaper in my mouth. \n\nFinally I opened my eyes, deciding that dealing with the light was inevitable. But the light was the least of my worries. I was no longer in the backyard. Where there should have my mother's iris beds there were a collection of boxes with hoses and tubes and wires snaking out of them. I tried to turn my head but found that my neck was locked up. I was tied up alright but in a hospital bed. A nurse flitted by my door and I tried to call out again. \n\nMore gargling splutters of sounds, still no words. I couldn't get my lips to move to form any of them. I heard the distinctive squeak of trainers on tile. I might not have said anything but my strangled howl got the nurses attention. She stuck her head through the door looking just slightly bewildered.\n\n\"Mr. Campos?\" She sounded like a mouse. I tried to say yes. I gurgled instead. I was briefly amazed at being called Mr. Campos. No one even called my dad Mr. Campos. The bewilderment turned to outright astonishment and she skittered off. \n\nIt felt like forever but probably wasn't. A gaggle of strange men and women came flowing into my room. Once one came they didn't stop. The oldest guy in a white coat approached me and started speaking gently.\n\n\"David. I don't want you to speak. You've had a tube down your throat and we just recently took it out, ok? So please don't try to talk yet. I'm going to ask you some questions and you can answer me by nodding your head. Do you understand me?\" I managed to tip my chin forward but found it was ridiculously hard to pick my head back up. I managed it though.\n\n\"I'm Dr. Frederick Jones and I've been treating you. Do you know where you are?\" I let my head fall to the side. No, I had no idea.\n\n\"Ok, that's fine. Do you remember what happened?\" I nodded yes. It was a little easier this time. He kept asking questions, touching my legs and arms and stomach, asking if I could feel this or that. I kept answering him but noticed the window behind him. The trees were bare, the sky was an icy gray and there was snow on the ground. For the first time I realized I had no idea where I was, I was tied down to a hospital bed, I couldn't move properly and the last thing I remember happened on a sunny July morning. My breathing quickened and the little monitors and boxes next to my bed started chirping a little more rapidly. I started to try to talk, despite the old man's warning me against it but before I made any more throaty gargles my eyes refocused on my own reflection. At least I was pretty sure it was my reflection. Except it wasn't. My long red hair was gone, shaven down to a peachy stubble. There was a knotted scar that ran from my temple back across my skull. My face was gaunt with pale skin just kind of clinging to my bones. Whatever was looking back at me was not a 13 year old kid. It was a grown man with a five o'clock shadow, a gnarly scar and more years than was reasonable to try to guess at. \n\nThe doctor turned around to see what I was staring at and must have seen it because he stopped with the touchy feely shit and started speaking a little more rapidly.\n\n\"Ok, David. I understand you are confused. You remember the accident with the lawn dart?\" I stared at him, not bothering to nod. \"Right, you suffered a massive subdural hematoma from that accident. You needed emergency surgery to relieve the pressure on your brain. You fell into a coma during the surgery. That was 16 years and some months ago. You've been in a coma ever since and you were moved here to this rehabilitation center about 10 years ago- you've only started showing more signs of responsiveness in the last few months. Your family has been called and they are on their way, ok David. Your family is coming to help you now. Do you understand me?\"\n\nI nodded. I understood the words. Sixteen years. I'd been laying in a bed for sixteen years. I focused my energy on forming words. \"Lawn darts?\" I said. It sounded more like a hiss but the doctor seemed to understand. \n\n\"Yes, David, lawn darts. Don't speak. Remember I told you about the tube.\" I nodded in the affirmative again but once again ignored his directive for just one more question.\n\n\"Did I win?\"",
"*2002*\n\n*\"Are you alright?\"*\n\n*\"Clare?\"*\n\n*\"I think something's wrong...\"*\n\nSlowly, I open my eyes. \n\n\"Yeah, I'm good,\" I mumble, feeling hazy and confused. \n\nRachel and Mickey laugh, nervous, relieved. \n\nWe play for a while longer, and soon it's dark, and time to go home. \n\nI can feel a dull ache at the back of my head, but slowly, surely, it fades. It has become comfortably numb.\n\n*2003*\n\nIt's my birthday. I'm twelve! I've survived another year of school! The summer is coming, and with it the promise of hours in the park, with Rachel and Mickey. Best friends forever.\n\n*2004*\n\nAnother birthday. I'm fourteen now. Practically an adult! I definitely feel like one. There's not much time for playing outside, but who wants that? I'm a grown up. I have responsibilities. I don't get to see much of Rachel or Mickey anymore, but we still do our homework together, we chill, we have fun...\n\n*2008*\n\nLife is scary. It just flies by and before you know it, boom. Graduation, college. But I'm happy. I'm going to be a vet, I'm going to live my dream, the way I want. Rachel and Mickey are going to the same place, so I'll see loads of them. \n\n*2012*\n\nCollege is tough. But I knew that going in. It's nearly over, I'm nearly a vet!\n\n*2014*\n\nMickey finally asked me! I'm going to be Mrs. Smith! Sorry, Dr. Smith. God, that sounds weird. Dr. Smith. I could get used to that. \n\n*2016* \n\nI have my own kid. Alex. He looks exactly like Mickey. Just, little. So so little. \n\n*2018*\n\n*\"Clare?\"*\n\n\n*Slowly, I open my eyes.*\n\n*\"Yeah, I'm good,\" I mumble, feeling hazy and confused.*\n\n*Dad is standing at the foot of my bed. He looks so old. When did that happen?*\n\n*I try to sit up. Oh god. I can't sit up. Why can't I sit up?*\n\n*\"What's the matter with me?\" I whisper hoarsely.*\n\n*He looks at me with tears in his eyes.*\n\n*\"Where's Rachel? Where's Mickey, my son?\"*\n\n*He shakes his head as the tears fall. \"Clare. You were in an accident. You, you fell. Your spine, your brain, they, they, you've been in a coma...\" he trails off.*\n\n*I don't understand. No. It can't be. It can't be. It can't.*\n\n*\"How long?\"*\n\n*He answers, and my world is destroyed. My dreams, gone, like dust in the wind. \"16 years...\"*\n\n\n\n\n"
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[WP] The ship drifted, its hull covered in rust, but the most disturbing thing about it was the crew.
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"Captain Yutaka and his crew found the ship drifting on the edge of the system’s Oort Cloud, past the furthest planetary orbits. Its hull was battered and dented from countless micro-meteorite impacts, but the crew’s initial scans indicated that all vacuum seals were intact, which meant there would be salvage aboard. \n\nHowever, the scans also indicated the presence of over a dozen lifeform — moving around the ship. It took several repetitions before this fact reached the captain.\n\n“How the hell is this possible?” Yutaka bellowed across the bridge at his medical officer.\n\n“I’m not sure, sir. Perhaps they’ve managed to survive by rationing. A ship that size could support its crew for several years, if appropriately stocked with food. Water can theoretically be cycled for close to a decade, if proper reclamation procedures are followed…”\n\n“Reclamation procedures be damned!” Yutaka interrupted him, “That’s a mining vessel. It’s not outfitted for intersolar travel. Demetri, you’re the quartermaster. How long of a voyage would they be carrying supplies for?”\n\nThe sallow-skinned Slav scratched his head. “They wouldn’t have supplies for more than a couple of months, if it’s a mining vessel staying in-system. Let’s assume it would take a week or two to travel out from the orbital station at Kepler G, a week or two to harvest ores from a micro-planet or a comet or whatever they’ve targeted, then several weeks to go back. At best, they are coming from further in-system and they have an extra month os supplies.”\n\nYutaka gestured obviously at the rest of the bridge crew. “So tell me how it’s possible that they’re still alive?”\n\nAlthough Jess was one of the newest crew members, she did raise her hand when no one else spoke up. “Sorry captain, why couldn’t they have just been here for just a couple of months with their comms knocked out? Isn’t that a possibility?”\n\nYutaka waggled a short finger at her. “Listen rookie, you need to pay attention to details. Look at the condition of her hull. Ships don’t rust in space — there’s no moisture or oxygen to create the necessary oxidation, but the pitting from micro-meteors on that hull is the closest thing you’ll get to rust out here. \n\n“Impacts craters are your tell. Micro-meteors are so uncommon — even out near the Oort Cloud — that you’ll only get an impact every few months. But that ship is dinged up everywhere. There’s no chance she’s been here for less than a decade.”\n\nIn the silence following Yutaka’s diagnosis, everyone turned to stare out the viewport at the drifting vessel. Irate, the captain repeated his question again.\n\n“So tell me… Why the fuck does the scanner think that they’re still alive and moving around?”\n\nIn the end, it was the stoic Slav who answered him. “I guess we’ll have to go onboard and find out, sir.”",
"The ship drifted lazily along in the water as waves lapped up against its belly. Its hull was covered in a thick rust that stretched upward, creeping away from the waterline and infecting the rest of the ocean liner like a virus and pocking its skin with flaking paint and metal. On a clear day, this might have looked like an adventure, beckoning explorers to climb aboard and investigate the floating relic. But in the grey mist of this cloudy December day on the Atlantic, it was haunting-- looming in the ether at the shrouded nexus of where the sea ends and the sky begins. It was obscured by a thick fog that masked the ship in an ominous haze of melancholy and it gave Wilder a cold shiver of fear that stole up his spine. But the most haunting thing about the ship was its crew... or, that is to say, the lack thereof. Normally, a shipwrecked ocean-liner wouldn’t have a crew—they would have all been lost in the wreckage, rescued, or abandoned the ship once ashore. But this wasn’t a shipwreck. It wasn’t ashore. It was just a big boat floating on the open ocean. And as far as Wilder and his team could tell, beneath a thick cloak of rust and salt, this ship was fully functioning. \n\n\n\n\nSearching the deck and bridge, they found nothing to suggest any considerable damage beyond what you would expect to have come from neglect. But they did find that the fuel gauge indicated a full tank. The electricity worked. There was still frozen food in the freezers. At first, Wilder thought maybe pirates were to blame – they could have taken the crew hostage or thrown them overboard and raided the ship. But nothing seemed out of place. And this was an ocean liner; there would have been a lot more people than just crewmembers aboard. This ship was meant for people with expensive taste. Passengers would enjoy beautiful ocean scenery, a never-ending horizon, fresh seafood, and great company. They’d cruise the eastern seaboard and wander hallways adorned with crystal sconces, walking past finely carved paneling made from exotic woods like Mahogany and Walnut. And none of that, not the sconces, the wood, or even the fine silver Wilder and his men saw in the grand dining room had been so much as touched… not even by the stealing hands of moisture and salt in the air. \n\n\n\n\nBeyond that, there’s no way a vessel this elaborate – or expensive – could go missing for long, even if the captain and crew were unable to send an SOS. And there’s certainly no way pirates could have come aboard and raided a cruise liner like this without leaving a single trace that they’d been there. Wilder kept expecting to find something to indicate humanity: personal affects, garbage… hell, even a body. But as he descended deeper into the bowls of the lavish vessel—through ballrooms and smoking quarters, beyond room after exquisite room—it became abundantly clear. He and his team were the only people, living or dead, aboard this ship. \n\n\n\n\n\nHe slumped down in a chair at one of the tables in the grand dining hall and rubbed his temples with frustrated confusion. And he wasn’t the only one... \n\n \n\n“I don’t get it.” Jackson paced on the opposite side of the table, “It’s like someone built the Titanic all over again and then just sent it, un-manned, un-occupied out into the ocean… why?”\n\n“A very expensive commentary on the futility of opulence?” Kane suggested with a sarcastic smile. \n\n\n \n\n“Yeah, right.” Jackson scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Maybe you should call up old Daddy Warbucks and see if he had anything to do with it.” \n\n\n \n\nMost of the boys that made up Wilder’s crew weren’t college educated and had grown up on family fishing boats, joined the Coast Guard out of high school, or earned their sea legs on cargo ships or oil tankers. But Kane was the exception. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, he had the best education money could buy and was the assumed heir to a booming family business… booming with hundreds of millions of dollars drenched in oil. But he lusted for adventure, not a corner office, and a strained relationship with his overbearing father had groomed him for rebellion. One interaction in particular—one he refused to discuss with any specificity—led him to steal away in the middle of the night. No goodbyes. No note. No plan. He simply wanted to “leave the old man shitting in his gold-stitched britches,” as he had once put it. \n\n \n \n\n“Alright, let’s not make this a family affair, boys.” Wilder cooled. \n\n\n \n\nWilder was in charge not because he was the most experienced or intelligent, but because he had the best temper—an extremely valuable quality given the present company and situation. He could see a brawl brewing from a mile away and knew exactly how to diffuse it. He always kept his cool under pressure (something that couldn’t be said for the rest of the guys). And he knew that despite not having playboy money anymore, Kane kept the attitude pretty firmly intact… and that Daddy Warbucks remark would definitely get under his skin if it were allowed to simmer. \n\n\n \n\n“Remember why we’re here.” Wilder implored with authority. \n\n\n \n\n“Why ARE we here, though? Jackson’s right – this makes no sense.” Kane raised a brow, “I mean, I could see this thing being left to float abandoned if it were well-used and past its prime --- like that old Russian liner from a few years back… its tow line snapped en route to the scrap yard or something and it’s just been bobbing about the Atlantic for years now…” \n\n\n \n\n“The Lyubov Orlova,” Riley chimed from the port side of the dining hall, “they say its crawling with cannibal rats.” \n\n\n\n \n\n“Yeah,” Kane said, thumbing Riley’s direction, “that one. But this thing… It’s immaculate. It’s got a nearly full tank of gas and unspoiled food. On the inside, it looks completely untouched. And the outside appears to have only been touched by time.” \n\n\n\n \n\n“You have to admit. This IS pretty spooky, Wilder.” Riley confessed. \n\n\n\n \n\n“But,” Kane interjected with a shrug, “I haven’t seen any cannibalistic rats. So, at least we’ve got that going for us.” \n\n\n\n \n\nThere was a long pause before Riley finally spoke up again. \n\n\n \n\n“So… what do we do now?” \n\n \n\n \n\nBut before Wilder could reply, his head snapped around and he bolted upright to face the door of the dining hall. \n\n\n \n\n“Wilder, what th—” Kane got cut off by Wilder’s finger pointed in his face. \n\n\n\n \n\n“Shhhh.” He whispered as he cocked his head sideways, his ears pricking to attention. \n\n\n \n\nAt first, he wasn’t sure he’d actually heard it. But then he heard it again. And it was getting louder… closer. Now, there was no doubt about it in his mind. \n\n\n \n\n“Wh-what is that?” Jackson mustered from under his breath. \n\n\n \n\nWilder’s eyes narrowed. \n\n\n\n \n\n“Footsteps.”\n\n",
"Lieutenant Commander Jack Nichols was afraid of the ship. There was no denying that. It's hull having been rusted through what seemed like hundreds of years of neglect. Red and brown scratched along its surface, covering any traces of a name or flag or origin. Yet this was early in humanity's history of space travel, and the Commonwealth of Terra had decided the rules of travel long before the first ship left Earth. The Treaty of the International Void, a grim title Jack thought, had explained the rules for the grim and bleak space.\n\n\"Hangar is secured,\" Jack spoke into his commlink, being directly fed to his Commodore, which was then fed directly (after a brief delay) to the Station of Lords all the way back on Earth. \"No signs of visible duress inside, though there are dozens of unknown materials, and heavy modifications have been made by the looks of it.\"\n\n\"Most recent carbon dating?\" The voice of his Commodore filled his ears. Rachel Wright was young, but experienced. \"Give me dates, LT1.\"\n\nJack allowed his scanner to search the hangar. A few Agents filtered through the hangar by his side. This was not a military operation, but a covert espionage classified to only officers and Agents within the House of International Intelligence. Jack was a select member and his scanner beeped. \"Picking up some type of food rations, mum. Listed at only a few dozen years old.\"\n\n\"That's impossible, we've never sent a ship this far into the Void.\"\n\n\"No mistake, mum.\" He went to the chest that he scanned, floating effortlessly in front of it before removing the top. Inside was a few packs of standard rations, blocks of some type of food he didn't recognize. \"Writing on it is foreign. But they're rations all right.\"\n\n\"Get to the bridge, LT1.\"\n\nJack didn't hesitate. Although every instinct he had told him to ask permission to blow the ship to pieces of raw material, he knew he had a job. The people on Terra, and the now-terraformed Mars, would soil themselves knowing they had found a foreign ship in their space. Adrift, rusted, lost to the void. It was a scary thing.\n\nThey had taken structural and internal scans via probes long before they send men aboard it and so Jack, two other Agents, and a VI-controlled probe headed down the corridor. The probe led the way, a glowing green light flickering in the dead of space as their watchful protector, like a lighthouse for sailors. While the float to the bridge was more than pleasant, a hundred different items varying in size and dimension floated around the depressurized halls of the ship. Yet it was for those few reasons that it took Jack and the two Agents barely three minutes to stumble to the airlock. The bridge was still pressurized and so after a few more minutes of waiting, they *walked* onto the bridge.\n\nIt was in disarray. Boxes and items littered the floor and a dozen computer terminals began blaring alarms as soon as they took steps onto the ship. The VI-controlled probe set to work immediately and after thirty seconds, the alarms had been disabled. Yet Jack and the other two Agents were unconcerned. Instead, as they embarked on the bridge, their eyes fell upon the corner of the room.\n\nThe video-feed to the *CT Olympia* had a four second delay, and the one that fed all the way back to the Station of Lords near Terra had more than seventeen seconds. It would take long for any of them to realize the repercussions of what Jack and the others were seeing.\n\n\"Slaughtered, mum,\" he said again for confirmation. A dozen bodies laid outright on the ground in front of the command station. Bipedaled, four-armed, horned beings laid out in front of them. No visible signs of struggle or duress, but instead only pale blue skin and black eyes. Each of them had a marking on their left palm, a small circle with a diamond in the middle. What it meant and what these creatures were, Jack didn't know. Sitting in the command station was a thirteenth creature. Similar in structure to the first twelve, but remarkably larger and with a greater number of horns around its bald head. They frightened him. The fact that they had no registered life-sign frightened him further.\n\n\"An alien vessel, rusted from overuse, adrift in space, with hundreds of rations and thirteen dead crewman,\" Commodore Wright spoke. \"Any ideas LT1?\"\n\n\"Exiled, perhaps,\" he said, \"set adrift to eventually die.\"\n\n\"*Eventually* die, by their own choosing I would assume. Not dissimilar to our own mandates, but this is not their own choosing is it?\"\n\n\"They look arranged, mum. Maybe it is.\"\n\nThe four-second delay was annoying, Jack noted, but such was the case. Commodore Wright was already barking another order before she heard his response. \"Take the big one and then search the rest--\" She paused, presumably hearing Jack's delayed response, then continued a few seconds later. \"Search the rest of the ship, make sure its clear.\"\n\n\"It is not,\" the VI-controlled probe said from its station. \"I am reading signatures all over the hull and inside the ship itself.\"\n\n\"That's impossible. Acknowledge and confirm readings, CT-1?\" Jack said turning.\n\n\"Affirmative, LT1. We're reading the same. Over a hundred different lifeforms are surging in that ship.\" In the delay it took for Wright's acknowledgement to be heard in Jack's ear, the hundred lifeforms had swarmed into the hallway of the ship, converging on the location of Jack and his two Agents. The three left outside had abruptly disappeared off sensors and Jack's HUD listed each of them as LOS.\n\nJack lifted his T9 designated marksman rifle to his shoulder. He could hear nothing other than his own breathing. \"Orders, mum?\"\n\n\"Back to the ship! Now sailor!\"\n\nThe delay, again, caused miscommunication between the espionage crew of the Landing Train and the *CT Olympia*. In those four seconds, the door to the bridge was activated by an unknown entity and a hundred more lifeforms swarmed into the bridge, converging on the last three organics in the area. Half a second later, Commodore Rachel Wright confirmed their LOS through various stations on her bridge and watched in disarray as the ship spurred to life. The red hull of the ship had dissipated and horror spread across her face. The video-feed was still active and as the camera floated in the emptiness of space, Wright watched a dozen small beings, of a classification she could not make, burrow themselves inside the largest of the dead creatures. Its black eyes rolled about its head and its pale blue turned bright, as if it moved once more. \n\nIt stood from its command chair, somehow magnetically sealed to it, and grabbed the camera in the mid-air. It blinked, the deep black eyes burning something Commodore Wright would never forget into her memory. Then it crushed it.\n\nWright ordered the VI to purge each of the Agents' systems, as well as the Probe, and make an emergency FTL jump out of system. The VI complied, somehow its core programming equally horrified at having lost six sailors and it's own physical body in a matter of seconds before the *CT Olympia* jumped out of system.\n\nIt was moot, for the creatures, later classified as Desmodontins for their relation to the vampire bat of Terra, had already accessed the probe of the *CT Olympia* and found several hundred thousand files concerning their next prey, the humans of Earth. The scout vessel returned to its homeworld, and the largest of the Desmodontins gathered a vanguard. The war began less than four months later.\n\n________\n*/r/BlankPagesEmptyMugs for more of my work!*"
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[WP] You expected to be a Pharaoh or Alexander the great's most trusted adviser, but instead, the seance tells you your former lives were nothing special. Dejected, you begin to form a plan to go down in infamy so your next reincarnation isn't so disappointed.
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"\"Now now, calm down. You're saying you've had former lives?\" the therapist spoke. He was judging him a little, and thinking, no, knowing he was crazy.\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, I've had tons of previous lives! But none of them were special. Like me.\" the man replied sadly. His previous lives were just pretty boring. He was hoping he was a ruler, or an advisor or something, but your seance told you there was nothing in them.\n\n\"Ok, former lives don't exist. You need to accept that.\" the therapist (Let's give him a name, hmm, Dead Meat.) was really thinking he was insane now. He started to sense he needed to end this meeting.\n\n\"I'll never accept that, because I know the truth. I've gotta do something special. Is there anyone else in this building?\" he said, slower in each word. His eyes became more, and more gargantuan.\n\n\"There, there, there, there, there\" Dead Meat stuttered. He was attempting to lie to save the other therapists and their patients.\n\nA knife, the man pulled out. 20 seconds later, he was pulling it out of Dead Meat. He knew how to leave his mark.\n\n",
"It was a strange ritual, and he was not quite sure what he was going to find. \n\nA difficult ritual, at that. There were at least 30 components and half of them could get him arrested for possessing and the other half had been stolen. \n\nStrike that, the first half had been, too, but it was unimportant. It was done. The ritual was a success.\n\nThe sky went dark, the world went quiet and he was cold. So very, very cold.\n\n“A s k w h a t y o u w i s h t o k n o w,” the aetherial voice resonated both inside his head, like a conscience, and around his entire being. If he didn’t know the figure was in front of him, it would have been impossible to tell where the voice came from.\n\n“I- I-” he stuttered. No, no, he had to be calm. He couldn’t mess this up. He had one shot. “I want to know about my past lives. Was I special, or important, in a past life?”\n\n“T h e y w e r e n o t h i n g s p e c i a l, a n d n e i t h e r a r e y o u.” \n\nNow he was mentally cold, too. \n\nHe was nothing special?\n\nThe aetherial being disappeared and the stars returned to the midnight sky. The chirping and twiddling of animals around the forest he resided in resumed their nightly chat.\n\nHe dared not move, he was so enraged.\n\nCould another, unspecial, twelve-year-old have done an ancient and forbidden ritual to summon what the books called a literal angel? Could another, unspecial, twelve-year-old have broken into the Ministry of Magic to gather the ingredients necessary for this spell?\n\nTom Riddle Jr. scowled.\n\nHe would show them “nothing special”."
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[WP] A secret race of immortals rule the world behind the shadows, and to be one of them, one must be chosen, and fake their death. You have been chosen.
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"I decided to leave a note.\n\nIt was the only way my family would be able to parse what happened to me, and I felt like I owed them that much, at least. It wouldn't be easy for them to accept their daughter's suicide, but it was for a good cause; I was going to help make the world a better place. I had to keep telling myself that.\n\nThough the Organization told me they'd handle any tricky questions that came up during the investigation, I wanted to be sure I did my due diligence. One of the members, after hearing my decision, had one of his contacts fashion a very convincing body double for me. My concern had been that the double would fool my family but not the police, but he assured me it wouldn't be an issue.\n\nI arranged the latex body in a chair in the middle of my apartment, cocking the pistol I held in my free hand. I would have to leave immediately after the deed was done, but my travel arrangements had been made. I wasn't worried about what was next for me; the Organization was very clear about my next steps.\n\nI placed the note on the island in the kitchen, a few paces away from where the chair was. Walking back to the double, I realized that I had never shot a gun before. This was an exceedingly strange circumstance in which to get some practice.\n\nI placed the pistol in the double's mouth. For some reason, I was nervous. I tried to push the feeling down and proceed with what had to be done. If I was going to become immortal, to truly help this world, I would have to do much crazier stuff than this. Faking my own suicide was only the beginning.\n\nI heard the shot before I realized I'd pulled the trigger. I took a moment to collect my thoughts before placing the pistol on the floor under the double's right hand. My things were already packed. It was time to leave."
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[WP] You are a feline, and a psychiatrist (and secretly ace detective). You've just had your 5th unique session where a feline patient is rambling about the disappearing, uncatchable, red dot. It's time to solve the mystery.
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"“The dot sir.Miffleton! The dot!”\n\nI lean on my couch,lazily stretching a arm as my patient curled and uncurled in his cardboard box.\n\n“I swear I can see it now! One moment it’s here,one moment there! As if it is sentient,it teases me in my dreams,its malignant red eyes!” The patient began to gurgle and roll.\n\nI throw a bright yellow ball at him,instantly stopping the rambling as he lunged for it.\n\nYawning,I began to groom myself,thinking.\n\n“You may go now Mr.Snifflewiff. And keep the ball. Throw it at your human’s face 3 times a day.”\n\nI dismissed my patient,and began to climb down the pipes. Wind swept across the old building,a faint hint of rain among the cold air.\n\n“And where do you think you’re going mouse?”\n\nA shrill voice came from above\n\n“Thought you forgotten me.”\n\n“We haven’t forgotten,mouse. The family never forgets.”\n\nI finally turned back,facing the grey pigeon who was staring at me with his cold,calculating eyes. \nIt was perched among the street sign of some political leader being pet by a human.\n\n“It looks like the old man did forget me. Seeing that he sent you after me.”\n\nIt snarled,a snarl that only a pigeon could make. I turned my tail to him,and started walking.\n\n“I hear you’re looking for something?”\n\nI stopped.\n\n“Oh I know what it is. Not gonna tell you though. Not for free.”\n\nI felt the wind coarse across my fur as I lunged,leaping. A flurry of grey,and I sat at the sign,a single feather in my mouth. A cackle came from above,on the pipes that slowly dripped.\n\n“See you’re getting old,mouse,slow. I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to catch a feather.”\n\n“Just tell me what you want.”\n\nI spat the feather out,glaring at the old pigeon. \n\n“Old pigglewaggle went missing. Rumor is,he took the yarn of cattiness with him.”\n\n“And why should that interest me?”\n\nI was lying of course. The yarn of cattiness was the only yarn in the sector,the whole reason behind the badger wars.\n\n“Because he was looking for the same thing as you are. Bright,red dot amiright? You cats love the stuff! How bout you pay the guy a visit,send him our “regards.””\n\nWith a shrill laughter,it took off into the night sky.\n\nThe last word sounded more like a “take your balls away literally”,but I started to walk again. Spitting the red flesh and feather from my mouth.\n\n“Heyyyy miffles!” I groaned as my human lifted me up,rubbing her \n\nI simply said,”To my office. Milk,shaken. Not stirred.” as she began to carry me through the main hall.\n\n“Where have you been all day? Hanging out with your fwiends?” God I hate it when they do that. I let out a sigh,but what could I do? She was special. She couldn’t even catch a mouse when I brought it in front of her. Gotta keep my manners right?\n\nI sat down,milk in front of me. There was a lot to do tomorrow."
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[WP] You visit a new donut shop and find it humorous that they misspell multiple donut names. But after eating a few "Bear Clause", you begin to discover it was not misspelled at all, and there are legal ramifications of your action.
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"\"What?\" I ask.\n\nThe nice man repeats himself. \"One North American brown bear, yeah. You can take possession of it at your earliest convenience.\"\n\n\"Thanks,\" I say, standing up, \"but I'm really not interested in that kind of thing.\"\n\nThe man steps back from the seat to give me room to leave. \"Unfortunately, sir, we'd then have to bill you for the costs of continuing to take care-\"\n\n\"No,\" I say, and walk out.\n\n\"Thank you, sir, and come again.\"\n\n***\n\nI open the door to see the nice man again, this time with a messenger bag over his shoulder. \"What the fuck are you doing in front of my house?\" I say, in the nicest way possible.\n\nHe smiles morosely and hands me a sheaf of papers about as thick as my pinkie. \"Sorry, sir, but I've got papers for you.\"\n\nBefore I can say anything, he's turned back down my driveway. I leaf through them: \"Summons... complaint... breach of contract, breach of the implied covenant of good faith and fair dealing, quantum merui-\"\n\nI sigh and toss the papers into the bin by the door. I'm getting a 'no solicitors' sign.\n\n***\n\n\"What do you mean my card isn't working?\"\n\nThe girl at the register stares at me apologetically. \"It's not going through, sir. Sorry. You're a pretty frequent customer, so we can put it on the tab for you.\"\n\n\"Christ,\" I say, shaking my head. \"It's fine,\" I say, and pull a couple of $10 bills out of my pocket. \"Keep the change.\"\n\n***\n\nWhen I get home, a sheriff's deputy is there to greet me; she's holding a sheaf of papers in her hands.\n\n\"Hey, there, partner,\" the woman says, tipping her hat. \"You the owner of this here house?\"\n\n\"What seems to be the problem, officer?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid I'm here to execute a writ of sale upon this here property,\" she says, and turns around to stick one of the pieces of paper she has onto my beautiful mahogany door.\n\n\"What? I didn't do anything.\"\n\n\"That's up for the court to decide,\" she says, tips her hat, and walks down my driveway. \"Y'all have a nice day, now.\"\n\nAs I stare at the notice, she turns around. \"By the way, sir, I'm afraid I'll have to do a quick search on you. Department policy.\"\n\nI nod, and she promptly takes my wallet from my pocket, pulls about three hundred dollars in cash out, and puts $20 back in. \"Wait-\" I begin, staring at her as she executes the maneuver.\n\n\"This'll go towards satisfying the debt,\" she says. \"Sorry, partner.\"\n\nShe hands me my wallet back and goes back down the driveway.\n\n***\n\nI shiver. The cold of winter pierces into my bones; my coat is too thin to warm me. I can sense that this is the day that I die.\n\nA man walks down the street before me. I expect him to just walk past me and my little sign, like everyone else, but he comes back.\n\n\"You look terrible,\" he says, genuine concern in his eyes. \"Would you like a blanket?\"\n\nWithout waiting for my response, he pulls one out of his backpack and hands it to me. I swiftly take it and wrap it around myself, and he smiles at me and walks away.\n\nI'm in the middle of my exhale of relief when I notice a little tag hanging from my new blanket. I begin to read it out loud.\n\n\"Indentured Servitude Comfor- God fucking damn it.\""
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[WP] Its the medieval time, and everyone pulls an item out of a magic chest exactly once. Everyone has always gotten swords, then you draw a Space Age weapon
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"\"Welcome, welcome, everyone!\"\n\nThe king's booming voice rang out over the chatter sweeping through the lavish castle's Great Hall and echoed off the tapestry-covered stone walls. \n\nThe hushed, excited whispers gradually gave way to silence as every head sitting at the long banquet table turned in the direction of the king's throne, where his queen and beautiful daughter perched beside him. \"You must know, you all have my deepest appreciation for attending here today,\" he continued. \"Uniting two of our families is not something I take lightly, and I am honored to see six knights, one from each region of the kingdom, here as worthy suitors for my daughter today!\" The princess blushed as all eyes in the Hall turned to her in admiration, and she nervously pulled at her cascading, golden-blonde hair. \"As you know,\" the king continued, \"Or, as I should hope you know,\" he added, drawing light-spirited laughter from the crowd, \"the suitors must compete in a bit of friendly competition to win my daughter's hand in marriage. The winner of this gauntlet will therefore become the new heir to my throne!\" The families and friends of each knight cheered loudly, shouting or chanting their names. Except for mine. Instead my father clapped his stiff hand on my shoulder and my mother looked at me in disappointment. \n\n\"You'll - erm - do great out there son.\" My father, who had never been much for talk, struggled for words. \"Try, uh, not to die.\"\n\n\"Thanks for the encouragement, Dad,\" I muttered under my breath.\n\nThe king, after downing a cup of wine that stained his leather-brown beard, continued his speech. \"As you all know, the Weapons Chest has been a priceless artifact in the royal family for generations. Many battles and competitions, such as this one today, have been fought and won with it's generous gifts! The swords, axes, or other weapons with which all of you...\" the king's sweeping gaze suddenly caught mine and he corrected himself. \"Well, with which most of you have fought countless battles will not serve you here! Each competitor must come up now and withdraw a weapon from the Weapons Chest, and they may use only that in the gauntlet!\"\n\nThe other five competitors rose out of their seats, met with pats on the back from those supporting them. Beginning to sweat nervously, I followed suit, and my mother sighed. \"Why couldn't our son have just been a jester?\"\n\nAs I walked the length of the table tentatively towards the royal family and the Chest, I couldn't take my eyes off the princess. The way she sat on her throne regally, her crystal blue eyes sweeping over those in attendance, and, for only a brief moment, meeting mine, left me breathless. Never before had I seen a more beautiful creature, as cliche as it sounded. As she shot me a soft smile I was plunged into fantasies of winning the gauntlet, becoming her king and running my hand through her silky hair. Those reveries, of course, were shattered when I shifted my gaze to the competition. Five fully-fledged, well-muscled, incredibly experienced and more-than-a-bit-cocky knights strode the same path as me in the direction of the chest. And what was I? A much scrawnier boy from the boonies as the only \"knight\" from my region because my father had insisted on it.\n\nAs I walked behind the family of Archibald, a knight from a different castle in the same region as the royal family, someone slid out their chair into me, hitting me hard in the side and making me stumble to the ground. I stared at the wine and food-spattered marble as the room erupted in laughter. I could almost feel my own family's disappointed gaze bearing down on me from behind as I shamefully rose to my feet. I couldn't bear to look at the princess, probably stifling her own laughter, as I made my way the rest of the distance to the Chest.\n\nAs all the competitors stood around it, the king assigned each of us to reach our hand into the beaten up old thing and pull out the weapon we were destined to use. Archibald, of course, was first to go and he smirked at me as he eagerly dug his hand into the box. I'd seen the Chest give out weapons before, and it was usually a sword of one type or another, so I was surprised when he yanked a well-crafted bow and sling of arrows from the Chest's depths. The crowd gasped and cheered at this unusual selection. Archibald's father looked ready to burst a vein in his enthusiasm. His son slung the bow across his broad armored chest, gave the princess a winning smile (which I was sort of relieved to see her not return) and stepped back to allow the next contestant to dig his hand in.\n\nThe next two knights received swords from the Chest, one long and thin, and the other short, made for close combat. I of course had been selected to pick last, being the \"runt\" of the group, so after the next two received a mace and a battle ax (much to the enjoyment and surprise of the crowd) I stepped forward to pick. \n\nMy heart beat out of my chest and my throat dried up. The king lifted the stained, worn lid of the chest, nodding for me to reach in. Someone's voice rang out from the crowd. \"Just give the boy a slingshot and a pebble! It's not like he's going to hit anything!\" This was met with chuckles and more quips from, no doubt, Archibald's pathetic family. \n\nAttempting to push them from my mind, I cast a glance at the princess, who met me with a nervous but genuine smile. It was all I needed to send butterflies through my stomach instead of what felt like hot coals. With the new boost of confidence I'd received, I plunged my hand deep into the Chest.\n\nIt was HEAVY. For a moment I thought I wouldn't be able to pull it out, which would be intensely embarrassing. I struggled several times to lift my weapon, to the delight of Archibald, who chuckled at my peril. What had I been given, Excalibur? Reaching my other hand into the box and hoping the king wouldn't have to offer to give me a hand, I managed to yank my weapon out with a heaving grunt and set it on the floor, making a THUD that seemed to shake the room. \n\nEveryone, including me, stared at my weapon in disbelief. It certainly wasn't a sword or any other common weapon used by knights in the kingdom. It was unlike anything I had ever seen. It looked a bit like a crossbow, only much bulkier and made out of the same material as thick armor. A ring separating the two main pieces in the middle emitted soft blue light, as if some magical fire was burning inside it. A soft whirring noise floated up from where it sat on the floor. As I watched, smaller concentric rings in the middle began to spin in different directions at different speeds, as if the thing had a spirit of its own.\n\n\"What in the bloody kingdom is THAT?\" Archibald spat. \"He can't possibly be allowed to use that in the competition!\" The crowd devolved into to shouts of protest and bickering.\n\n\"Now, listen here!\" The king boomed. He cast me a doubting look. \"I know it is... unconventional, but the Weapons Chest has chosen this... weapon for this knight. There is no overriding it's decision.\"\n\n\"But it's a bloody chest!\" Archibald snapped, but a stern look from his father shut him up rather quickly and he fell into silent seething, looking at me in fury.\n\nIt was my turn to smirk. I had no idea how my weapon even worked, but as I gripped it by its cold metal handles and lifted it off the floor I already felt a sense of pride and accomplishment by beating Archibald in terms of weapons. I noticed a sort of trigger under the bulky metal body, and a valve on the side with another colored light beside it. How did the blacksmith who created this - if a blacksmith did create it - forge such a large, self-moving weapon and trap colored flames inside with no risk to the wielder? This thing must have come straight from the royal forge, as it easily topped any weapon I'd ever seen. I gazed closer at the small dial on the side next to the light. Under it, a phrase I'd never before seen graced my eyes:\n\nSETTING: ANTI-GRAVITY\n\nWhat could that possibly mean? I looked over at the princess, who seemed in awe of my gifted oddity. I could have jumped for joy - had I impressed her already? Maybe this thing could give me the edge I needed in the gauntlet. \n\n(Pt 1)",
"**Please critique if you have time!**\n\nYou never know what you’ll get during the Bestowing. No, wait, you do. You get a sword. Everyone gets a sword. You reach into the Chest when you come of age, which is the one and only time you can reach into the Chest, and you pull out a sword. That’s how it has always been.\n\nNot that there is anything wrong with a sword. The real surprise is the kind of sword you’ll get. My next door neighbour, for instance, got a magic sword that makes someone tell the truth when the point is pressed against their skin. Now, she’s the local magistrate. My mother got a broadsword, and, when the king was assassinated and his tyrannous brother stole the throne, my mother went to war against him, and won. Gareth, my older brother, got an ordinary, blunted sword. Not being satisfied with that, he decided to learn about swordsmithing and creating magical weapons. He’s now famous, and the weapons he makes are highly prized, although he still can’t sharpen or enchant his own sword. But, that’s really for the best, since that’s what motivates him to continue.\n\nBut it’s well-known that everyone, whether they are a warrior or not, receives a gift from the Chest that gives them the opportunity to make the best of themselves. There are some who don’t understand, or just refuse to acknowledge, what their sword signifies. There are those who simply refuse to draw a sword at all. At best, they will lead peaceful, but ordinary lives. At worst, people die, often, on a large scale, because someone has abandoned their destiny.\n\nOver time, we have learnt to understand why the Chest chooses to bestow the gift it does. The Diviners spend their entire lives learning how to determine the path the Chest wants you to follow. Why you receive the sword that you do.\n\nBut, none of them expected me to reach into the Chest, and draw out something that wasn’t a sword. In fact, no one knew what I had drawn.\n\nNo one really understands what the Chest is, how it knows what someone needs, or where the swords come from. Or, for that matter, why it’s always a sword. Or, rather, was always a sword.\n\nIt was a fact of life, as much as the sun rises in the morning and sets in the evening. When you come of age, you journey to the Chest of Bestowing. The Diviners will be present, as they are at every Bestowing. As it is such a momentous occasion in someone’s life, their family will also be there, unless they were unlucky enough to have none. Once the sword is drawn, the Diviners will try to explain why you’ve been bestowed the gift you have. It was momentous, but predictable, as it always is.\n\nThere was uproar after my Bestowing. No one could understand what happened, or why I had received something that was obviously not a sword. Some of the Diviners claimed that it meant that I would be destined for greatness. Other claimed that it was the opposite, and I that I had not received a sword because I had no great destiny. Once the yelling had started, I slipped into a quiet corner started to examine what I had drawn.\n\nIt was metallic, but that was all it had in common with a sword. It was made of a cool, oddly lightweight metal. I had expected it to bend easily, since it was so light, but it had proved unexpectedly sturdy. Whatever it was that I had drawn, it was short and tubular, with a metal loop on one end.\n\nWorking on a hunch, I slid my hand into the loop. Once the loop reached my wrist, it tightened, so that it fit snugly. The tube was cool on the back of my hand, and was just long enough that it protruded past my middle finger. I shook my hand, and found myself unexpectedly pleased when it didn’t move, even slightly. It may not be a sword, I thought, but it is meant for me.\n\nIt was then that I noticed that the yelling had stopped. Everyone was staring at me. My parents, Gareth and the Diviners were all focused intently on me and what I now had looped around my wrist.\n\n“Whatever it is, it’s certainly meant for her,” the Master Diviner said, echoing my thoughts. “None of us understand how this can be, or even what is. But we do know that it is meant to be.”\n\nAnd we were sent away, with the Diviners promising to study what my Bestowing signified. \n\nThe next day, we received a message. There had been three more Bestowings that day, and all of them had drawn swords from the chest. The message had upset me more than I would ever admit. I was afraid that it meant my destiny would be lonely. Gareth had his fellow weaponsmiths, all of them working towards the same goal. My mother certainly hadn’t walked into battle alone.\n\nAfter I had received the message, my supposed gift had been the last thing I had wanted to think about. But, my brother had convinced me to let him examine it. It hadn’t taken him long to decide that it had no magic in it, at least none that he could sense. That just made me feel worse.\n\n“Maybe there’s something inside,” Gareth said encouragingly. “Does the band move? Is there something that you can press or slide? Anything that might cause movement?”\n\n“Is that even possible?” I asked with some doubt. “It seems farfetched.”\n\n“Oh yes,” my brother assured me. “One of my fellow students worked out a how to make regular movements using little spiky wheels. It’s astounding what he’s been able to do with it.”\n\nBut, once we examined it, it seemed certain that my gift was exactly as it seemed – a strange object made of metal, more useful as decoration than a weapon, even if it was sturdy. Gareth had tested its hardness with the sharpest, toughest blade he had. My gift had remained unscratched, but the force of Gareth’s cut had chipped the blade. That had shocked us both. Whatever else he was, my brother was one of the finest weaponmakers in the land.\n\nAt the end of the examination, when I had slipped my gift back onto my wrist to see if there was some way of moving it using my wrist and finding none, I became frustrated enough to lash out. And, when I screamed in frustration, it was proved that I had, in fact, been bestowed a weapon.\n\nA beam of blindingly blue light erupted from the front of the tube, and shattered the stone wall in front of me. Tiny bits of stone flew at my face, only to be stopped. The blue light had shaped itself into a shield to protect me from the sharp stone. When I looked at my brother, I realised that the shield had shaped itself so that it also protected him.\n\nMy brother stared back at me, wide-eyed, and I realised that I may well have been holding the most powerful weapon anyone had ever seen.\n\nAnd, all of a sudden, I found myself wishing that the Chest really had just gifted me odd jewellery. I knew that some dire danger must have been in our future for me to have been given such a powerful weapon.\n\nI became more and more terrified of my destiny as time went by, especially when the Diviners sent messages claiming that more people had received something other than swords, though nothing seemed quite like what I had been given. It seemed as though my destiny was fast approaching, no matter how much I wished otherwise."
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[WP] You are a girl living in Gotham, who thinks Batman is in love with the resident billionaire playboy, Bruce Wayne.
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"**Please critique if you have time!**\n\nIt took me some time to realise that I knew something that could seriously harm Gotham. More specifically, it would harm Batman, which would harm Gotham.\n\nIn my defence, I didn’t mean to figure it out. It was an accident.\n\nIt was the little things that gave Batman away. How quickly he responded when Bruce Wayne or his family were in danger, for example. Or, how often he seemed to be around Wayne Manor or Wayne Industries offices. \n\nNo one else seemed to notice that, and I kept quiet. I didn’t want to be the one who helped the bad guys figure out who to use as bait, or where the best spot to ambush Batman was. I would never have been able to forgive myself if I had.\n\nBut once I started noticing the pattern, I couldn’t stop. In many videos, it seemed as though every mention of Bruce Wayne’s name would catch Batman’s attention. Once, while I was walking home late, I thought I could see Batman standing on a building across from an electronics store, watching the TVs on display. I doubt anyone would have noticed him, standing quite literally heads and shoulders over most people. I had only because I had tripped and caught a glimpse of him as I was falling. And there had been enough moonlight for me to make out the small, soft smile on his face under his cowl.\n\nAnd that had confirmed my theory.\n\nAnd, once I looked, I could find the same patterns the other way around. I could see Bruce Wayne’s interest in mentions of Batman. And it was easy to understand how Batman could get the high-tech, most likely expensive gadgets he used. Because, of course, a billionaire would be able to get them easily.\n\nOnce I had figured it out, it seemed so obvious. How could no one else have noticed?\n\nBut, as I said, it had taken me some time understand exactly what I had stumbled onto. And, when I did, I was glad that no one else had.\n\nIf anyone else had realised that Batman and Bruce Wayne were a couple, both of them would have been in terrible danger."
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[WP] A Romeo and Juliet style Romance between an angel and a demon
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"Fuck. I'm late.\n\nThe dark, dimly lit sky was my first sight of the day, like any other, as I ran outside to get to work on time.\n\nAnother bullshitty day working for a literally goddamned entity who has yet to reveal himself.\n\nMy wing, it hurts. Maybe a tattoo there wasn't the best idea.\n\nMaybe not.\n\nI ran into some demonic nobles, so I'm sure I'll get written up for that.\n\nFinally, I arrived at my shitshow of a workplace.\n\nLike always, it's on fire.\n\nAt least business has been good, what with corporate corruption being up, and net neutrality dying.\n\nThe CEO himself of Corruption Corp. said he'd give that chairman a nice cozy little spot down here, but at least his children and wife will be spared, as they're not to be punished for the sins of a misguided man.\n\n\"Jack, get the fuck in here.\" My boss. Shit.\n\nHe seems upset. Which is normal.\n\n\"Why the hell are these sin counts so damn low?!\"\n\nI shook my head in disbelief at the sheer failure reflected on the tattered paper, singed around the edges.\n\nPaper was so expensive in Hell, because, let's face it, you can't have flammable shit in Hell. It just doesn't work. Too much fire.\n\n\"I turned in all my reports last week!\"\n\nMy boss stopped an looked at me, before slapping me square across the face.\n\n\"Well your little reports didn't do shit for me, now did it?!\"\n\nWell, after eight hours of that, I went home.\n\nI turned on my TV.\n\n\"We're here in Hollywood, California, with rap-icon, Post Malone!\"\n\nI furrowed my eyebrow and shut it off.\n\nI'm done with this bullshit.\n\nI need to get back to my REAL job.\n\nBeing a merc.\n\nI fly outside, up into the sky, so high that my wings are screaming in pain as I exert them to exhaustion in one last thrust out of Hell.\n\nI'm out.\n\nAnd I need a disguise.\n\nI landed in the middle of a park, in what looks like..\n\nBeverly Hills?\n\nNo wonder. This is a corruption hotspot.\n\n...\n\nI found a twenty-something young man, and his name is -- get this -- Jack Davis!\n\nI don't even have to change my name!\n\nHe's rich, by the way, a really fat wallet.\n\nSuddenly, the sky shines a light so bright my human eyes burn.\n\nClouds are thrusted away with a huge explosion revealing a single figure descending above the rooftops.\n\n\"Are they shooting a movie?\"\n\nTourists.\n\nI run down to the landing spot, and...\n\nIt's a girl.\n\nShe's..looking at me.\n\nHer eyes flash a golden color.\n\nThen she attacks me.\n\nReally, after some time of me punching her and me getting kicked around, I really began to see what was happening.\n\nIt suddenly became like a dance.\n\nWith each touch of her skin to mine, I realize she is burning me, even when she is doing nothing but touching me.\n\nSo finally we kiss.\n\nAnd Dear God it's painful.\n\nSuddenly, the ground opens up and I am dragged under the world's crust deep down to the depths of Hell.\n\n(More if feedback is given)\n\nEdit - Continuation\n\nBlissful unconsciousness. This truly is the state demons were meant to be in, not chasing petty mortals.\n\nI was a human once, long ago.\n\nFoggy awareness. Something's not right. I'm not supposed to be this \"okay.\"\n\nPainful reality. Ack! There it is.\n\nMy back hurts like hell and my head is pounding. \n\nI reach over and cup some magma into my hands, to cauterize the gash on my right leg.\n\nHell, I may not be able to die by a fall, but it hurts like hell.\n\nAlso, it looks cool as shit to use magma as a cauterizing method.\n\n...\n\nI'm back to the surface.\n\n'An angel, I fought an angel,' I thought\n\nI sat for a moment and scratched my chin.\n\n'And I lost.'\n\nI grabbed a new disguise and headed to the nearest brotherhood temple.\n\nI can smell it. Like I can smell disease, or stress and fear, and most of all, depression. It reeks of fear for the improbable return of happiness.\n\nI love it.\n\nI've discovered every demon has an inner ability that can be discovered in times of crisis, like an instinct being activated.\n\nMine is the ability to \"charismatically\" alter the \"aura\" of an area.\n\nSay some people were getting into a fight, with a good chance some people could actually die.\n\nI could calm them down. But it's not that easy. I gotta come up a way to get their attention first.\n\nAnyway, my ability is quite limited to humans, unfortunately.\n\nMaybe it works on angels.\n\n...\n\nI'm just below the Diveil, or divine veil, from the overworked to the heavens.\n\nI ascend slowly, awaiting an inevitable pain due to me not belonging in such a place.\n\nBut it never came.\n\nShe did.\n\nHer long golden hair fell perfectly in place on her shoulders and sides of her chest.\n\nHer eyes, green...with an inner rim of hazel that transition ever so perfectly.\n\nShe spoke a voice like silk, no, like the finest of fabrics, and to say so is a grave understatement.\n\nAnd we learned, we learned to love. She changed me, made me whole.\n\nAnd I could live once again.\n\nFor eternity we spent our time together."
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[WP] A super hero origin story about a teen that seemingly needs to learn to control his rage in the end, but it turns into a supervillain origin story when he cannot do it
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"They had taken my things again. I hate it when they take my things.\n\nLook at them, prancing around with my toppled bag and its contents strewn out over the tables of the common area. My lunch gone, for the... well, we're up to the seventieth day in a row. My homework, hastily having its photos taken like a defenseless damsel in a bathroom stall with the door kicked in. My art, still barely touched from last period, exposed to the light that it should never have to bear witness to.\n\nOh well. My therapist will have a field day with this one. Scribbling down her notes, frantically trying to keep my trouble temper down, while I ruin every stress ball and ambient music album she has.\n\nI've been good at keeping my anger in check for the past few weeks, but I swear, these abortion-survivors are really making it difficult. But, for all their idiocy, they have managed to stay away from--\n\n\"I got it! I got it!\" They all turn and sneer at me, laughing a jaunty, hearty laugh. Oh, do tell, what is it you have? As if anything you have could affect me.\n\nAnd then I see the familiar black book, its worn leather and metal clasp flapping as he runs over. The Lacey hands it to his leader, undoing the clasp and reading through the first few pages onto which I have spilled my ongoing crisis of maintaining my sanity. My rage, my pain, my desires, all laid bare for their molesting eyes to see.\n\nAnd it's in there. All my... my...\n\nMy poetry.\n\nAnd all of it, for them.\n\nThey're such a kind person to me. Their tone of voice always softens around me, as if they think I'm a gentler being, one deserving of kindness. But they keep their distance, not from their choice, but from mine. So they don't know.\n\nTheir leader chuckles, raises his eyes from the cloth-paper pages to meet mine, and begins his walk over to them.\n\nYou just have to keep calm, you just have to stay calm. Everything will be fine as long as you just stay calm. For once in your life, please stay calm.\n\nMy stomach drops as he taps them on the shoulder, their eyes raise to meet his. He points to me, then lays the book down in front of them. They push it away from them, as if not interested in what it has to say. He seems upset. He seems... angry.\n\nI can clearly hear the term \"faggot\" being said. They look offended, and rightfully so. They stand up to face him. He pushes them back down.\n\nAnd it boils over.\n\nIn an instant, I am storming my way through the castle, like a knight in armor, ready to save my ally. I let the rage take control, I let go of the consequences, almost too easily.\n\nI spin him around, grab him by his now pale throat, and slam him onto his back on the cafeteria table. Everyone around us disperses, and the crowd goes wild. They cheer for me, like a glorious warrior in an arena, ready to spill the blood of the weak, of the vile, of the cruel! They chant, they want me to win, they chant, they want me to come out on top in this struggle, they chant, they want me to kill him! And who am I to disappoint a crowd?\n\nWith a wide grin, a hand to the face, and a swift, loud, wet 'pop!' I am crowned victorious.\n\nBlood and grey matter stain the table and my clothes.\nThe crowd has grown silent.\nThe faint sound of dripping is all that remains.\n\nI look around at my captivated audience. Their horrified, blood-splattered faces stare into me. Is this not what they wanted? They wanted me to win.\n\nI turn to face my ally, another victim of senseless violence. They turn and run. The crowd screams. Now they are ear-piercing, unbearable, so terribly, terribly, annoying.\n\nAnd how I hate, hate, hate annoyances.",
" Anders was eighteen years old, gifted with above average intelligence, professional athlete levels of fitness, and an unmatched charisma. He also happened to be gifted with the ability to control his environment, making it warmer, colder, windy, rainy, and so on. The closer to his physical form, the more he could affect his surroundings. He’d discovered this strange power at a young age, after being left on the streets by his would be parents at the age of ten years old. \n\n Winters in the metropolitan scrap heap that was Stratis City were harsh, harsher still if you were a homeless child. And whether through necessity, or chance, Anders had learned he could turn the cold winter nights into room temperature days for himself and all the homeless men and women that began to collect around him before too long. He became their savior, and they became his, teaching him how to survive on the streets. \n\n Now though, Anders had finally managed to do the impossible. At least he would have claimed it impossible for many years. He had his own place, a job (sort of), and he seemed to be a functioning member of society. His curse came in the form of his endless rage, that had been created and fueled throughout his young life after his failed attempts at parents had sent ten years destroying him, only to abandon him on the streets. \n\n That rage was more evident than ever right now, as Anders beats two muggers with his fists, his knuckles so hot they had started to glow red. It was the middle of the night in Stratis City, and there wasn’t anyone in the alley to hear the screams other than Anders and the woman who was huddled up against a dumpster hold her hands over a knife wound across her forehead. \n\n “People have it hard enough in this fucking city!” Anders yelled as his fists nearly burst into flames and he continued his attack on the two muggers laying on the ground trying to defend themselves. “Find a better way to live your fucking lives!” Anders finally stopped punching the two men, who were bloody messes on the wet cement. He reached down, his hands steaming in the cold rain, and picked up the woman’s bag. He walked over and handed it to the woman who took it wearily. \n\n “Are you okay ma’am?” Anders asked as he noticed the cut on her forehead. She shakily nodded, her eyes shifting from the two grown men who had attacked her, and her apparent savior. “Okay, well you might want to clean that out before you put a bandage on it, have a nice night.” Anders smiled at the woman, who took the opportunity to leave the alley, just short of running from her attackers, as well as from Anders. \n\n “Think I went a little overboard.” Anders looked down at the two muggers, and shrugged as he continued his walk towards his favorite diner. Not only did they serve breakfast at 11 at night, which was the perfect time for eggs and pancakes, but Anders and the night staff had all become fast friends. He had even considered telling one or two of them about his power, and his recent nightly adventures around the decrepit city. \n\n As he rounded a corner, his blood began to boil, almost literally, at what he saw. A woman was being led down the street by a man. The man appeared to be holding something to her back, and the woman was looking around scared. Anders took a breath, and noticed two cops leaning on the hood of their car drinking coffee. He jogged over to the men and as they noticed him, one stood up, his hand falling to his holstered pistol. \n\n “Boy?” The officer said in a questioning tone that rang to Anders that the man was already annoyed with his presence. \n\n “That woman over there.” Anders pointed to the pair who were approaching another alleyway. Stratis City was littered with the darkened side streets where all manner of non-legal behaviors were conducted. \n\n “A couple out for a walk?” The man looked over before looking back at Anders, anger flashing in his eyes. “Son, don’t waste my time, or I’ll lock you up just for the fucking fun of it.”\n\n “In what world does that look like a couple?” Anders felt his rage climbing, and decided to abandon the useless officers. “You know what, sorry to waste your time.” Anders turned and jogged towards the pair, who had just turned down the alley. \n\n “Hey asshole!” Anders called out to the man, who looked back, before grabbing the woman by the shoulder and forcing her to turn and stand between the two men as a shield. \n\n “Don’t try anything funny fuckhead, or your white knightery will get this poor damsel shot through the liver.” The man snarled back, smiling. \n\n “Just.” Anders calmed himself. “Just let her go, this doesn’t need to go poorly for you, but it can very quickly.”\n\n “Listen to the little hero squalkin’. You hearin’ this shit bitch?” The man smacked the woman on the side of the head with his free hand. She cried out but stood still. \n\n Anders tried to think of a way to deal with this situation. He was pretty smart, all things considered, and he had more than one idea forming before the attacker threw his plans out the window. \n\n “Screw this, I’ll do yah both!” He laughed, raising the gun from the woman’s back, aiming over her shoulder and firing right at Anders’ head. Before he even realized it, the wind in front of Anders shifted, so fast and hard that the bullet veered off course, hitting Anders in the shoulder instead of between the eyes. He reeled back in pain, but his anger took over. The world around the trio turned white as rain froze first, then the trash on the sides of the alley, then the gunman’s skin. The woman was trapped in a frozen headlock and Anders quickly ran over, pulling hard on the non gun toting arm. The attackers frozen arm simply ripped off, and Anders let it fall to the ground shattering. The woman glanced at Anders only momentarily before running down the alley. \n\n “This fucking city.” Anders wasn’t sure if the man could still see or hear, but he said the words all the same. “What a fucking city.”\n\n The two cops had only glanced over at the alley momentarily after hearing the gunshot. They were now laughing to themselves at the idea of the hero getting himself or his attempted rescue shot. They were laughing all the way up to the point when the frozen gunman, or what was left of him, shot out of the alleyway, slamming into their cruiser and shattering into thousands of pieces, rending the metal of their car like paper. \n\n They felt a chill in the air, and it felt for a moment, like the rain stopped across the whole city. \n\n"
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[WP] the world is ending but only for you
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"I see darkness. Maybe a hint of feathery wings. I see the whole that I’m lowered into. I see everything and nothing and sometimes I see Karen. I see Karen getting over my death, laughing about something stupid I said, loving me in a slowly numbing way.\n\nI see her getting a cat 15 years from now and naming her Cassandra. I see the cat on my pillow, wearing a Star Trek collar, company as Karen watches Conan the barbarian. It’s the day of my death, my new birth, and my ghost will float at the ceiling and sigh \n\nI will often visit her, after the Apocalypse of my body, and I will wonder if she ever believed in God. She hasn’t talk to them after I die. She refuses to go to church. How are there people who don’t believe that their love continues? Because I’m here waiting for her to die, and maybe she knows that because no one has lasted past year one of the relationship. And only Cassandra the Kat remains.",
"\"DUUUUUUUUUDE, my jaw feels like it's going to break off...\" I shift my jaw back and forth, and hear the clicks.\n\n\"Dude, shut up, stop being a normie, people will notice.\" I could see my buddy also cracking his jaw, but he was much more quiet about it. \"Come on, I've got our tickets, we gotta hurry.\"\n\nMy buddy dragged me to the front of the line; he was a VIP member, and he waved the tickets at the bored gentleman in the white and black uniform that was waving and swaying in my field of view. And then we were in... The arcade bleeped and blooped, a wash of pixels and neon as we strolled into the Dave and Busters.\n\n___________\n\nTwo figures sit in a room; one who is ostensibly a man, wearing a mask with a long, bird-like nose, and an old Japanese woman wearing a lacy masquerade mask.\n\n\"Tell me, Lao Tzu,\" says the man, \"What is the meaning of freedom?\"\n\nAfter a few moments, the woman speaks. \"私はあなたに死の自由を与える、犬。\"\n\n____________\n\n\"Holy fuck dude, I'm so flaccid right now, it's insane.\" I almost can't see right. Patterns are now longer regular, but swaying, slowly gyrating. My friend is at least keeping his composure.\n\n\"You can't say shit like that, dude, come on, keep your brain about you, you know?\" He is staring just over my head, but still doesn't look different.\n\n\"Everybody! I'm like super flaccid right now!\" Before I can finish my statement, my friend has wrestled me to the ground to shut me up. \"Dude this is so weird! It's like a whole new world, like, layered on our regular world!\"\n\n\"You're a fucking normie.\" My friend is allowing me to stand.\n\n____________\n\nTwo figures sit, once again, in a dark, smokey room, across from each other in leather arm-chairs. One is ostensibly a man, wearing that silly mask, the other is a young black man, perhaps twenty. The black man is wearing a bandanna, like a bandit.\n\n\"Tell me, Socrates,\" says the man, \"What is the value of truth?\"\n\nAfter a few moments, the man speaks. \"أنت الشرير الحقيقي هنا.\"\n\n_____________\n\n\"Oh... Shit, dude... Is this what eternity feels like? I don't think I like it, dude...\" I'm feeling... cold. My skin crawls, and the arcade around me is a wash of yellow, as though someone's upended a basin of cooking grease on everything. It's so... Silly and absurd, it's stupid, but it's real... It's what I see.\n\n\"Fuck, dude, you alright? It's just a bad trip dude, it'll be over soon.\" My friend is leading me away from the crowd of people. I'm staring blankly around.\n\n\"Fuck, man, is the world ending? Is this what nothingness feels like? If I could describe what I'm feeling, I'm sure I would say 'nothingness'.\" I sit in a chair as my friend hands me a drinks menu.\n\n\"Here, just look at this for a moment.\" He pulls out his phone, and proceeds to stare at the lock screen for five minutes.\n\n_____________\n\nTwo figures sit, for a final time, in a dark, cramped, heated room. The ostensible male in his stupid mask, and a middle-aged white man wearing a Hawaiian shirt, socks and sandals. The middle-aged man wears a mask resembling a tiki-head.\n\n\"Tell me, Nietzsche,\" says the man, \"What is the goal of happiness?\"\n\nAfter a few moments, the man speaks. \"אל תדאג, תהיה מאושר.\"\n\n_____________\n\n\"It's cool, I texted Harry a 911, he'll be here to pick us up soon.\" My friend was still staring at the screen, as it dimmed, and then turned off.\n\n\"Duuuuuuuuuuude... Check it out, Wednesday is margarita day... I want a margarita.\" I stare at the yellow, abysmal menu. I don't feel right.\n\n\"That's the last thing you need right now, let's get you moving towards the door.\" He takes me by the arm, and leads me through the wash of color, towards the bright yellow glow of the street-lights, and the terror of the inevitable, soul-crushing sobriety that would befall the both of us, in a few, agonizing, yellow hours."
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[WP] You are a psychic who can manipulate people's minds, without limitations. You're pretty much godlike until one day, you meet a girl immune to your ability.
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"There were monsters among us. Hungry creatures that brought misfortune to the unlucky individuals that crossed their path.\n\nMissing. Dead. Devoured.\n\nI considered myself to be a god. The minds of individuals were clay in my hands, and I was an artist that shaped them into things I could enjoy. But *they* were something else, monstrous animals fueled only by basic instincts. \n\nI was ten when I met my first monster and the first individual I could not manipulate. I had wanted money so I tried to manipulate its mind, a girl with blue eyes. It fought back against me. Its eyes turned red as it realized something was wrong and allowed its instincts to take over.\n\nThese creatures had a natural mental defense mechanism. They didn’t use their minds the same way as humans. I couldn’t control them because they didn’t have thoughts for me to manipulate. They were mindless drones directed by instincts, which recognized my influence as a threat.\n\nOn that day I met Lila. She was much older than me, more experienced, more powerful. After I manipulated someone to distract the monster, I left to get food. Lila was the person I attempted to persuade. Her eyes didn’t glaze over the way my victim’s eyes did, alerting me that something had gone wrong. \n\nShe explained that we were the same, and told me that there were monsters who hunted people like us. She said that we were immune to each other’s powers since they would cancel out. I considered leaving to go get food somewhere else, but decided that I should just kill two birds with one stone.\n\nI asked Lila if we could pick up a pizza. I brought her to the area I was in earlier that day. It was still there. I pointed to the girl with blue eyes and asked Lila to prove that we were the same. She agreed, seeing nothing wrong with asking for proof. Immediately its eyes turned red and locked onto Lila. It stalked forward, but Lila kept trying to push her influence onto it. She thought she could do anything, she thought she was a god. \n\nI watched as it pounced on her. She was mistaken.\n\nNow the girl with blue eyes was nothing more than an animal, one enjoying a delicious fresh meal. A distracted animal.\n\nI reached out into its mind and found it preoccupied with the food I had provided it. It didn’t notice my influence, manipulating the instinct that told it to eat. Telling it to keep eating until nothing remained. No evidence would remain of anything being more powerful than me.\n\nThe monster’s instincts alerted it of my intrusion after it finished, but by then I was long gone. Yet again, I was a little lone god in a world populated by lesser creatures."
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[WP] You're a middle aged married man on his way home from work, when you start to hear voices calling out to you. The voices are distant, quiet and familiar. They continue until you get home, when your wife tells you to sit down, concern covering her face. "There's something you need to know."
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"\"Dead people are back!\"\n\n\n\"What?\", David squeezed his face in bemusement and misunderstanding, as if he'd been told him pigs could talk and fly. He smiled lightly but irritably as he began to move up out of the chair. \"very funny\". His wife Sarah remained as still as a petrified statue. Something about the mix of his wife's ghastly expression and his all too bizzare experience on his way back from work made David also hault, the smile slowly slipping from his face. \n\n\n\"Dead people are back David, their voices can talk to us. I've been hearing them wisper all day. My friends have said the same, I don't know whats... whats... happening and I... I...\", her voice trailed off into silence. \n\n\nDavid went white; it made harrowing sense. \"I heard it too, on the train, distant voices, I thought I was going mad\"\n\n\n\"The world's gone mad!\" Sarah shouted and grabbed her phone and keys. \n\n\n\"what are you doing now, shouldn't we be...\" David struggled to find a suitable ending to his sentence as Sarah walked briskly to the door. She turned back to David.\n\n\n\"All I know is that you can only hear the voices outside, so that's where people will be. That's where this madness will be solved\". She opened the door, taking one step out before turning once more. \"Coming?\" She spoke with a sturdiness and poise that was admirable given the situation. David felt almost obliged to agree, happy to accompony someone who at least sounded confidnent. \n"
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[WP] You wake up under an alien sky, watching a blue sunset and holding a strange device. As the three moons, two natural and one artificial (although you can't remember how you know that), the decvice begins to pulse and whine.
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"The blue sunlight bathed everything in a blue hue of color as I opened my eyes. The gold reeds that were growing all around me swayed gently in the breeze. The first thing I move are my hands and my right hand touched something cool and smooth to the touch. I held it up to my face and slowly sat up. I felt nauseous and held my other hand to my mouth, I felt a dull pain in the back of my head as I inspected the device in my hand. It was a block of black glass with delicate patterns traced along the sides. I gave it a curious tap only to not have any initial responses. I place the device on my lap and look around. I had been laying in the middle of a field with no civilization in sight except for the mountains I could see in the distance.\n\nI looked up to the sky again and noticed a white moon with a smaller one next to it and a bit of a distance away there was another moon but a sickly green color that I was sure was fake. I could not tear my eyes away from the artificial moon not because it was green but because it felt wrong. This whole situation felt wrong. How in the world did I get here I wondered. I thought back just a moment and the last thing I could recall was being in a hospital bed but what for escaped my memories. \n\nI was torn away from my thoughts when the block of glass started to vibrate and make noises. The glass block lit up a gentle orange color then faded into a light blue. The patterns seemed to disappear and then words started to form on the glass.\n\n*Project Coal Mine Canary*\n\n*Status: Active*\n\n*Vitals: Green*\n\n*Greetings Subject 33657,*\n \n*You have been randomly selected to be awaken from Cryogenic suspension to test out the livability of Earth 3.5. You have been sleeping for 2675 years, 3 months, 53 days, 5 hours, 34 minutes, 23 seconds. You will be regularly monitored for any signs of symptoms including, vomiting, spontaneous bleeding, hair loss, bloody diarrhea, severe fatigue, and other unusual symptoms. Good luck on survival.*"
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[WP] You have the ability to travel to alternate realities in the multiverse. One day, you see an important political figure from one universe and a dangerous supervillain from another casually hanging out in a coffee place in your world.
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"In most epic tales, the battle for the end of the world tends to be the final climax before things return to normal. In my story, that battle was just the equivalent of finishing the tutorial level. When that battle ended, an unstable rift between dimensions ejected me from my universe out into the Void. On my quest to find my home universe, I've aged quite a lot more than anyone knows, been to places I don't think anyone else would ever believe, and gained new power so dangerous and frightening that I'd be alienated on the spot by almost anybody who knew how strong I've become. For me, it's been years since I was back in my home universe. But when I finally made it back home, the great battle had only concluded a few days earlier.\n\nTwo months after the battle, Chicago was still just starting to recover. With the amount of damage that had been caused, I still don't expect the city to start seeming normal for at least a decade. In the months since I returned, I've tried adjusting to a normal life again, though the repeated inquiries by U.S. alphabet agencies as to what happened make it difficult. My fault for letting them find out who I am. To clear my mind some, I decided to lose my government-issue tail and take a walk through the cordoned-off areas of Chicago.\n\n---\n\nWith each step, the crunching and scraping of concrete debris blocks out all other noise. Large blocks of concrete and rebar litter the streets, with sheets of shattered safety glass strewn among the wreckage. I walk another block, and the concrete features bloodstains ingrained too deeply for rain to wash clean. A reminder that I wasn't able to save everyone, and a fuel for politicians demanding my imprisonment. Let them try. They don't have anything capable of containing me.\n\nAnother block of walking. The revving of an engine echoes off the marred walls of the surrounding buildings. My tail probably found me from the satellite surveillance. I make a left towards the Willis tower, remarkably undamaged for being at the center of the battle, but abandoned since the surrounding structures are largely believed to be on the verge of collapse.\n\nAt the next street, I come across something I never expected: a Starbucks with its lights on. Inside is something never expected even more: a table occupied by Rick Sanchez of all people, and the (11th) Doctor! This shouldn't be happening. Neither of them should be here, and what in the world are they doing in the same place at the same time? My heartbeat accelerates as I grab the door handle. I pull."
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You choose how to go about this. Look forward to reading your responses!
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[WP] You work in the maternity ward in the hospital and have the power to see what kind of person the child grows up to be. Something is off about one of the newborns today.
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"It was the funny little moustache that gave him away. \n\nIt was late in my shift and I was getting a bit sloppy. I usually avoid using my \"gift\" on random babies because their new life should be free of spoilers. I don't even like watching trailers before a movie because I don't want to accidentally know too much about something that I might want to watch. What could be worse than getting a trailer that spoils your whole life? However, this night I was a bit tired after a double shift cleaning up at the maternity ward. One of the little tykes had pushed his teddy out of his crib. When I absentmindedly put it back in, he suddenly grabbed my finger. Before I knew what was happening I looked into his eyes and we saw visions of a man in front of a crowd with a toothbrush mustache. The baby was still staring at the ceiling in shock as I ran from the room.\n\nYears later I stood in the midst of a crowd as the baby, now grown, with a black tooth brush moustache goose stepped across the stage. As \"the great dictator\" stopped at the podium I smiled with pride. Just as I had foreseen, the child had become the greatest Charlie Chaplin imitator in history. \n\n",
"Don't talk to me about nature vs. nurture. They're both equally important to the whole person.\n\nI've seen children doomed from the start thanks to the horrible genes and personalities of their parents, and children with bright futures that would rail against the fate their parents had dealt them through the kindnesses of the world around them. I've seen children from good, loving families that would irrevocably step down the wrong path, and so much more. The instant that I touch their skin, I can see what kind of a person the child will be. Very little that I see when dressing and tending the babes surprises me anymore.\n\nI suppose it was fate that I decided to become a NICU nurse.\n\nAnd today, the Johnson baby worried me. \n\nMatthew, they'd decided to call him, and his future split off so many different ways. There were so many paths, so many branches to his life that it was impossible to visualize them all. As I tended to his machines and cared for him, I found myself once again touching his tiny chest with a frown, closing my eyes and trying to navigate through the veering passageways of who he'd become. \n\n\"Something wrong with Matt, Katrina?\" Minnie is our unit's official 'mom' by virtue of her being the longest employed in the NICU and over fifty, and I offered her a smile as I finished tending to Matt. \n\n\"Oh, no, not at all.\" But there was something niggling there, something that I couldn't quite place. Usually, especially with our longer-term guests, I would have a crystal clear image of who they would become by the time they finally, at long last, got to go home with their parents. Minnie wandered back away and I found myself placing a gentle hand on Matt's arm. I knew I wouldn't be able to rest until I figured it out.\n\nMy eyes flew open after a few seconds, and I broke into a cold sweat.\n\nThis child was like me. I wasn't seeing his possible futures... *he* was seeing *other's* futures. So many that I was surprised he wasn't overwhelmed and constantly crying with anxiety. My touching him was likely creating a feedback loop of infinite possible futures since we both seemed to have almost the same ability, though mine relied on touch, while his seemed to only need the presence of others to trigger.\n\nWell, when he was older, when he was ready- I would be sure to be there for him.",
"You could say I've had a knack for knowing the future. Specifically, of the children I help deliver. I can see their future. Nearly all of it. From first kiss to death. I've helped delivered thousands and seen how all their lives turn out. I intervene if I believe it's necessary. If its something simple, say a problem with the child, I mention to check for that with the doctor. At first, I gave excuses; \"Doctor, the heartbeat is weak, maybe we should check for a defect?\" He's come to trust me, I think. I've never been wrong after all. I can't see the future of the already born, but some lives have been made longer thanks to me. If the problem is more far flung, their is far less I can do to help them. Lives are tangled, messy, and despite my vision, prone to change. I've struggled long and hard not to obsess with the lives of those I've helped. Checking in on them, ensure their life is on track. Or maybe ensuring I haven't lost my touch? Equally likely.\n \nAnd yet, here I stand. Unable to see this childs future. Not his death. Which is obvious to my vision. But his entire future. Blank. Nothing there. I had just delivered the baby of someone who will grow up to have OCD, and will bring great awareness to it, yet this child eludes me. As I held it in my arms, staring at his contorted visage, it's as if the veil of time cloaked the child. Was this childs future not allowed to be glimpsed? By some mysterious force far beyond my control? Or is this it? The moment I lose everything. Unable to help those around me and now losing my purpose and meaning. \n \nThe doctor catches my glimpse at the child. \"Nurse? Should I check for something?..\" he asks, the question the mother surely wouldn't want to hear, if the mother was conscious right now. \"I..I dont know. I dont think so.\" I say, faltering. Having to rely on my senses, and official training as a nurse. Handing him over to the doctor, taking another look. I must've looked as white as a ghost. My powers havent failed me since they first presented themselves. And now, nothing. Poof. The baby was going to be whisked away into a world I know nothing of. And the thought terrifies me."
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[WP] Your mother is the Queen of the Fae who married your normal human father. She still attends your school PTA meetings.
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" When a man marries a woman, there is rejoicing and partying. When a man marries a faery, there is some hushed whispers and some words of a warning to both parties. When a man marries a faery queen however, the faeries rejoice, the man is disowned, and they have a wedding party that lasts for months. In fact, I had apparently been born shortly after Uncle Flipwick finally decided he could no longer stand the merriment and went home. You see, my Mother was Queen of the Faeries, and my Father was a writer who devoted his most beautiful words to the woman who stole his heart.\n\nMom took a while to truly get used to our plane, in fact, the fact that time moved so quickly was astounding to her, but she made due as we took frequent vacations to her home in the Faewild. Her people continuously begged her to stay with them, and often, we would have months without her, but the one thing my Mother insisted on was my schooling. In fact, she believed so strongly in my education that she joined the Parent Teacher Association. It didn’t take long for word to spread that my Mother was special. In fact, the first time the Principal and my Teachers laid eyes on her gossamer wings flitting behind her had caused a bit of a panic. Fortunately, being faery has its perks, including a knack for mischief and Charm Magic.\n\nIt didn’t take long for the panic to subside however, it became more a point of pride for the school to declare that they were the chosen school for the Faery Queen and her Child. Still, every first Wednesday of the month, Mom would walk with me into the cafeteria and begin what she had often jokingly referred to as her “War Council”. The quiet bickering from parents, the snide remarks, the sly grins, the invisible masks; Mom apparently dealt with these on a regular basis in the Faewild. Here, she felt at home.\n\n“Alright, thank you, Mrs. Oliver for that notice. We are all aware of the problem that drugs have on youth today, but your enlightening speech has given us a new issue to worry about with… Uhhh… Atheism… Anyways! Now, we must move on to an issue that has, I think I speak for everyone here, has grown out of hand!”\n\nMy mother rolled her large, sparkling green eyes as Mrs. Cribb gave a dramatic pause for the fourth time that night. I had stopped truly paying attention, instead, my nose glued into my book as I read and waited for the meeting to end. Mother began to mutter out in the quiet just loud enough for her, I and a few nearby could hear, “Witchcraft, Snake Cults, Childhood Necromancy…”\n\nA few chuckles came from the nearby parents who gave sly looks of agreement with Mother’s much more ‘pressing’ issues. The chuckles ceased when Mrs. Cribb finally spoke up, “I’m talking about the big S-E-X issue beginning to happen within our children’s minds.”\n\nI perked my head up in confusion, looking to my mother who hung her head and gently rubbed at the spot just below her bramblewood crown. Still, Mrs. Cribb continued, “Many of you may know, I work as a nurse in the neo-natal ward of the local hospital, and today I had the utter horror of caring for a child that had been born to two fifteen year olds!”\n\nA quiet wave of murmurs started from the front, moving over the crowd and to the back while completely skipping over my mother and I. A few of the mutterings were more groans of derision, some were chattering worried words, but mostly, disbelief filled the PTA meeting.\n\n“I know, I know what you’re all thinking! We must stop this from happening to our children,” Mrs. Cribb continued her speech as she looked about the room, pausing once more for dramatic effect, “but how do we do this?”\n\nMr. Allens, the dumpy principal who until just a few moments ago had been sipping punch with the same face that a grazing cow might make as he stared off into the distance, now stood up and began to confront the issue, “Now, now, ladies and gentlemen. The school district already prescribes to the State’s abstinence-only lesson plan. It has worked for years, but, if you feel it inadequate, then I hope you would please appeal to the school board on how to change this lesson plan.”\n\nMy Mother finally gave in to her frustrations as she stood up from the cafeteria chair and let her flowing silk gown swirl almost magically about her, “Excuse me, if I may be so bold as to ask a question of the Coun… The PTA.”\n\nEveryone’s voices had shut themselves up in their throats. The look of surprise covering everyone’s face was enough to make me stop reading as I looked up to my mother’s determined gaze. Mrs. Cribb shakily nodded as she replied, “Y-Yes, of course, please, go ahead, your highness.”\n\nMy Mother nodded most regally, assuming her courtly manners as she raised her voice to a royal decree’s projection, “What is abstinence?”\n\nThe entire PTA glanced about at one another before slowly beginning to laugh tensely. Then, just as it began, the laughter stopped as my Mother stood silent, still, and a soft flush of annoyance covered her face. Mr. Allens stood up once more and gave a nervous laugh as he answered the question, “Eheh, well, its where people wait to have sex.”\n\nMy Mother simply nodded, her bright scarlet hair curtaining about her shoulders before she spoke once more, “You are teaching our children not to have sex until they are older I presume?”\n\nMr. Allen could barely think to do more than give a nervous nod before Mom spoke up again, “And do they learn about what sex is?”\n\nMr. Allen coughed before looking about the sea of faces who had now turned to see what answer he would give, “Uhhh, well, we teach them about uhhh, intercourse, but we stress that they should not have sex until they are older.”\n\n“So, nothing about its emotional value, nothing about the respect it should be given? Nothing about its value, only about its forbidden nature, Mr. Allens?”\n\nMy Mother’s piercing gaze tore through Mr. Allens’ chest as he stammered a moment, “Uhhh, well, you see, the State says Abstinence Only…”\n\n“Mr. Allens, when did you first make love?”\n\nThe PTA began to murmur before Mr. Allens finally muttered out an answer, “Well, you see, that is an extremely personal question. Uh, I don’t think its appropriate to talk about here, ma’am.”\n\nMy Mother persisted, in fact, she even turned the entire PTA to her as she spoke once again, “And where did you learn how to commit the act?”\n\n“Uhhh, well, you see, uhhh…”\n\n“Certainly not from a State-Sanctioned lesson plan, I would presume.”\n\n“Errr, ma’am, you see.”\n\n“No, Mr. Allens, I do see. I see a lesson plan that encourages sex without teaching its importance.”\n\n“A-Abstinence is far from encourage…”\n\n“Oh, you foolish man, do not dare to presume that the Queen of the Faeries cannot see enticement before her very own eyes. Teaching someone just enough about something to spark curiosity then forbidding that subject? Tell me, any one of you, tell me that you would not dare seek out more knowledge from whatever source you could?”\n\nThe PTA was in silence, a soft cough filled the room as Mr. Allens placed a handkerchief to his lips. My Mother nodded as her stern gaze moved about the room before landing on me. My lips couldn’t help but turn into a small smile as I looked up to her, “My son will not be enticed into learning then denied knowledge. That is the reason we are here, is it not. Parents?”\n\nA soft wave of agreement from the nearby seats called out into the air, “Yeah!”\n\nMy Mother moved her gaze back to Mr. Allens, “Parents, do you want your children to learn all they can in safety?”\n\nAnother, much louder shout of agreement lifted into the air, “Yeah!!”\n\n“Parents, do you wish for the State to entice your children into early parentage?!”\n\nA short pause came before the entirety of the PTA meeting was shouting their support for my Mother’s words, “NO! Teach the kids!”\n\nAs if Mother’s words had signaled the beginning of an attack, so too did the Parents turn their voices into weapons and turned them on Mr. Allens who stood defenseless. My Mother sat back in her seat with a satisfied smile on her slender lips as she quietly whispered into my ear, “Yes, my War Council, your Queen demands Justice.”"
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[WP] a super villain realises the amount of paperwork involved in ruling the world
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"“I am Lrrr!” the brownish-green alien bellowed as he stormed through the main doors of Central Bureaucracy. “Ruler of Omicron Persei 8! Your puny Earth is conquered! Bow to your new overlords!” \n\nLorne Maxwell, grade 53 bureaucrat, blinked slow, lazy eyes at the massive death ray pointed at his head. For a fat, gigantic alien with six teeth and three horns, Lrrr smelled surprisingly like a fruit salad. The tropical kind, not the one with the cantaloupe. That was good. Lorne hated cantaloupe. It’d taken four years of patient form filing to move the cantaloupe three spaces down the cafeteria’s salad and fruit bar. \n\n“I assume you’re here to fill out form 1127a,” Lorne said with a tired sigh, peering over Lrrr to the army of fat brownish aliens clustered in the waiting room. “Pursuant to all claims with words ‘conquer,’ ‘Earth,’ ‘slavery,’ ‘clogged toilet,’ and ‘annihilation.’ Have you completed forms 331J7, 111956 and T99361?” \n\n“I…well no,” Lrrr stammered. “I thought…” then he went back to bellowing. “I have destroyed your puny cities! Your people serve ours in chains!” \n\n“That’s nice,” Lorne said as he tapped a few numbers into his keyboard. “Without forms 331J7 and T99361, I’m afraid I can’t authorize you to move forward in the process of ‘conquering Earth.’” Lorne leaned back in his swivel chair – it’d taken five years to requisition – and peered over his reading glasses. “And of course, without form 111956, I’m afraid it’s quite impossible for you to kill or enslave anyone.” \n\n“What’s going on here?” a deep, harsh female voice bellowed. Another Omicronian pushed through the crowd of aliens with clenched fists and flaring green nostrils. She wore a little gold crown on the top of her head. She glared at Lorne. “Puny human, how dare you stop the invasion!” \n\n“He says we can’t enslave humanity without form 111956 Ndnd,” Lrrr said apologetically. He shrugged the death ray in his hand. \n\n“Just kill him!” the giant green female bellowed. \n\n“You’ll need form 111956 to do that,” Lorne said tiredly. Most hours, it felt like he was talking to children. Lorne stood with an over-exaggerated sigh. It was going to be one of those days. “I’m authorized to take you to the right department to obtain the forms. Follow me, please.” \n\nLorne climbed onto his slow-mobile and flicked the on switch. He hated these things. Their two-mile-per-hour limit was far too reckless to his way of thinking. He’d already submitted over a hundred and fifty forms to reduce that speed to one-mile-per-hour. Speed caused mistakes. And in the world of bureaucracy, there was no room for mistakes. \n\n____________________________________________\nlove this prompt! Heading to class - will finish in a few hours. \n"
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[WP] You manage to get a hold of the McDonald’s Secret Sauce recipe, but when you try to read it, its written in a strange language that doesn’t seem to resemble any Human language at all...
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"\"That's... that's not English. Is that even a language?\" Rick asked curiously with a raised eyebrow.\n\n\"I think it's Francian,\" Eric replied, tilting his head at the book in front of me.\n\n\"Francian? Eric you dumb shit, it's French,\" Chris pushed the young man with a grin.\n\n\"Shut up everyone, I'm trying to read it,\" I exclaimed, adjusting in the chair at my desk. The book was opened to the 'McDonald's Secret Sauce' page but was completely unreadable.\n\n\"Oh so now you can read whatever that's written in? Like some big smart guy?\" Rick asked, shoving my shoulder, to which I shot a glare at him over my shoulder.\n\n\"No, but if we want to make some money on this, we need to know what we have first. Burger King will probably pay a fortune for this but if they can't read it either, what's the point?\" I offered, eyes still on the page.\n\nThe idea of making money was probably what silenced my friends, but whatever the reason actually was didn't matter to me. It was nice to finally have quiet while I looked at the strange characters on the page.\n\n\"I think I found something written in English,\" I pointed at a few spots on the page, which seemed to be vellum. An odd choice of material for a multi-billion dollar company, but who am I to judge.\n\n\"Well? What do they say?\" Eric asked curiously.\n\nStruggling to read the odd words, if words they were, I spoke:\n\n\"Ph'nglui, mglw'nafh, Cthulhu, R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn...\" There was a pause between all of us as I looked up behind me at the others. \"What the hell did I just read?\"\n\n\"Did you say Cthulhu?\" Rick asked, his eyes growing wide with fright.\n\n\"I think that's how you pronounce it,\" I glanced back at the book.\n\n\"Where did you say you got that book again?\" Rick's question was laced with uncertainty as he pointed down at the pages.\n\n\"At the Library up at the Miskatonic University, I snuck into their restricted section and found this under 'McDonald's Secret Recipes',\" I figured my answer was satisfactory enough, but Rick seemed ill at ease with the situation now.\n\nIn a blur of speed, he reached forward and quickly grabbed the book, closing it with a heavy thud. He flipped it over and the front of it seemed to be a strange array of indescribable patterns and designs. Or perhaps they were words that we simply couldn't make out. I had always assumed it was just an abstract design. At the top of the front cover, there was a piece of masking tape that had the words \"mcDoNalds\" written across it. Again, I just assumed it was a poorly written note.\n\nRick reached for the tape and ripped it off. Under it, seemed to be a word, though much like the rest of the pages within the book, it was unreadable by us. Though after only a moment, the word began to shift into different characters. It molded into something like German, with odd symbols over what would seem to be letters. Then it morphed into what was clearly a language from Asia, as they seemed to be characters more than letters. Something Eric recognized as Spanish, finally, the letters morphed into English.\n\n*The Necronomicon*\n\n\"Oh God...\" Rick's eyes were now undeniably scared as he began to back away from the book and darted out of my bedroom. I could hear his feet thudding against the stairs as he ran. Eric, Chris and myself all looked back at the book skeptically.\n\n\"The Necronomicon... like from Evil Dead?\" Chris asked quizzically.\n\nEric nodded, \"Yeah, damn those were good movies... do you think I'll get a chainsaw for a hand or something?\"\n\nI shook my head, \"No you idiots, this isn't from a movie. This is just a book. It's not some 'mystical-chainsaw-hand-giving-thing'. Though that would be pretty sweet, but didn't he have to lose the hand—\"\n\nThe house began to shake then. An earthquake rolled through the area and we could hear cracks of thunder outside. All three of us went silent and walked over towards the window to see a singularly apocalyptic scene before us.\n\nSwirling vortexes of black clouds descended from the sky, crashing into the ground around us. Purple lightning lit the sky and with each flash there seemed to be outlines of odd shapes and figures walking or lumbering about the neighborhood and city beyond.\n\n\"Dude, McDonald's Secret Sauce Recipe is no joke...\" Eric said slowly.\n\nChris was quick to deliver a punch to his arm, \"You still think this has anything to do with McDonald's Secret fucking Sauce?\" he asked loudly before turning his gaze back out at the scene in horror.\n\n\"I just like money,\" Eric whispered.\n\nAnd in the grim darkness of what was happening outside, Chris and I both rolled our eyes at our indescribably dumb friend."
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[WP] It's late at night and you can't sleep. You decide to watch some TV to pass the time, and the news channel is the first thing to come on. But to your surprise, the news is showing a live-feed of your apartment building with the headline: "Hostage situation, officers injured."
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"I hadn't left my room for five hours, but why should I? It's the only clean, neat, organized, \"open\" room in the entire unit. The rest of the place I left up to my roommate, the proper lease-holder of the apartment, to do whatever he wanted with it, which had been the case before I moved in here.\n\nI had considered going to the bathroom, but I had a funny feeling. Acting on instinct, I picked up my cell phone and searched for the news station, tapping on their number in the results.\n\n\"KTLA, how may I direct your call?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I live in the apartment complex where there's a hostage situation going on, and I just wanted to make sure that I'm not, uh, adjacent to it?\"\n\n\"One moment, I'll transfer you to our on-site team.\"\n\nSome weird rings and then a female voice answered. \"Alison Xander for KTLA News, you're a resident in the complex?\"\n\n\"Yeah, I'm in number seven, can you tell me where the hostage situation is?\"\n\nSilence, then: \"Okay, I'm gonna put you on the air in just a few seconds, hold on.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Okay, sir, can you identify yourself and tell me if you're safe?\"\n\nI did so.\n\n\"And tell me, why did your roommate feel threatened by the officers that had come to do a wellness check on him?\"\n\n\"I had no idea this was happening, I stay in my room to avoid his mess.\"\n\n\"You're not being held against your will?\"\n\nI thought for a moment. \"I don't think I am. What wellness check?\"\n\nI thought I heard a strangled grunt of frustration as I had apparently wrecked her line of questioning's flow. \"To recap for our viewers just joining us, police officers had been dispatched to this apartment unit that we're seeing on the screen...right now.\"\n\nI saw the door to our apartment on the screen.\n\n\"Concerned neighbors had reported strange smells and sounds from this unit at all hours of the night, and when officers arrived, they were in the process of calling mental health specialists that deals exclusively with hoarding disorders when the tenant attacked them with a kitchen knife.\"\n\n\"Yeah, he takes his mess pretty personally,\" I ventured as a comment. \"Those sounds were probably him talking baby talk to his dog.\"\n\n\"Sir, why did you choose to live with such a filthy, unstable slob?\"\n\n\"I had no idea he was this way until after I'd moved in, and by then, it was too late to get my deposit back and go elsewhere. Can't afford to move now. Guess I'm stuck here.\"\n\nI heard a strangled grunt from outside my bedroom door followed by some stomping and clattering. I guess my roommate was smacking himself again. The reporter asked what the noise was and I told her.\n\n\"He inflicts self-harm on himself?\"\n\n\"Well, yeah! He stays home all the time, he hotboxes his poor dog with his nicotine addiction, I don't see how he couldn't hate himself.\"\n\n\"Sir, I think it's dangerous for you to keep living there. Will you consider moving once this situation is resolved?\"\n\n\"Only if I can afford it.\"\n\nLuckily, the police eventually overwhelmed my roommate and placed him under arrest, and a gofundme was created to help put the apartment in my name and I had offers from safe, sane, stable and clean people to be my roommate and pay rent on time every month while treating my new apartment like a home instead of Pee-Pee's Party-n-Playhouse.",
"This is disappointing to say the least. \n\n“Hostage situation. Officers injured.” The news can’t even get the headline right but I suppose it’s not really a big deal. They’ll find out soon enough, the stench will alert them first and then when they kick down the door…they’ll find the bodies. \n\n“I honestly expected more.” I sighed glancing down at the soaked carpet, those were new and this was supposed to be a quiet night in. I suppose I should have been expecting this but police can be so….finicky sometimes. Cracking my next I huffed softly, this was so much extra work and the paperwork is going to be tiring. Whatever, I can’t focus on that know. \n\n“Come out, come out where ever you are.” I sang softly as I followed the trail of blood down the hallway. “You can’t hide forever. I know what you did, you made quite a mess.” \n\nOh, there it is. I can hear the soft whimpers coming from the bedroom, they’re hiding in the closet no doubt. How unoriginal, I really did expect more but no matter I have found them. Kneeling in front of the closet I take a deep breath, I can taste their fear in the air. How delicious, I am looking forward to this. \n\n“Put the gun down.” \n\nI would like it noted that I did try to be kind but they shot me anyway. The bullet lodged itself in my chest, were I a human that probably would have killed me, good thing I am not. The whimpers have tunneled to full blown sobs now and I am becoming impatient. This human is wasting my time and there are so many other souls I need to collect. \n\n“Come out now and I will make this quick, I do not want you to suffer.” It is too late, the human will not cooperate. This is fine, I am not required to be kind nor gentle in my job so I will extinguish their life force quickly. They are crying now, my hand is already clenched around their little throat before they can even react. The silence is far more enjoyable than their insistent crying, I find this human world to be…quite insufferable. \n\n“Hostage situation. Officers down. Suspect dead.” \n\nI have done my job, the Grim Reaper has righted the wrong in this world. I will leave now. I do not like this world, I doubt I will want to come back. \n",
"My clock read 3:12. I kicked my blanket off me and sat up. I had spent far too much time trying to fall asleep than I had actually slept. So much for my New year's resolution to adopt a healthy lifestyle. I rubbed my eyes violently, destroying what little sleep was left in them. I flicked on the switch nearest to me, causing 5 bulbs overhead to light up the room in a fashion the sun can only dream of. \n\nI fished for the TV remote between the sheets of clothes I had carelessly discarded throughout the room. There were not a lot of good programmes that aired at 3 in the morning, but nobody watches TV at that time because they want to. It's because they have to. More often than not, it was insomniacs like me who had nothing else to do, surfing through the channels with a monotonous mechanization. \n\nAfter a search that took longer than I liked, I found it. I settled back comfortably in my bed, wrapped myself perfectly in a warm, red blanket and hit the power button. I didn't remember the channel that was on when I switched the TV off the last time, so it was probably not sports. Whatever it was, it better not be the news. I hated watching the news for two reasons:\n\n1. It was too depressing. \n2. The people on it were too beautiful to fit the depressing theme of what they wanted to convey.\n\nIronically, it was the news that came on. Channel 71 was showing the breaking news of a hostage situation developing downtown. It was probably staged. I switched to the next. Channel 12 showed cop cars arriving at the location and skidding to a halt. Show offs. Channel 43 - helicopter footage of officers running through the streets with their pistols drawn. Channel 76 - A red building with 4 stories and a familiar face at the bottom of the screen. Channel 18 - advertising a new model of microwave that played songs as you waited for your meal to be prepared. \n\nThey had me at microwave. I picked up my phone and dialed the number that was shown in bright red text within a similarly bright yellow circle. Dead. The line was dead. God never wanted me to be happy. I noted down the number in a piece of paper that lay nearby and continued surfing. \n\nChannel 23 - a hot blonde standing behind the red building and explaining the details of the case. I was more interested in the blonde than the words that were coming out of her pretty mouth. When will these networks learn? The building started to look familiar now. I had seen it somewhere before but I couldn't put my finger on it. Channel 31 - a low angle shot of the building, covering the entirety of its height and panning to the sky. I recognized it now! It was my building! This was the only view in which I saw it every day. I made a mental note to call up Channel 31 in the morning and thank them for that logically placed shot. \n\nIt had been several years since we were in the news. The last time was because someone had called the police and informed them of a psychopath secretly living here and of course, the cops went away empty handed. Psychopaths were a myth created by psychologists to remain relevant. I stuck with Channel 31. It showed the cops busting through our front door. Then, I heard a knock on my door. \n\n\"Open up!\"\n\n\"Who is it?\"\n\n\"It's the cops.\"\n\n\"Oh hey, I was just watching you on the news. Gimme a minute.\"\n\nI tidied up the room as well as I could in 30 seconds and raced to the door. I opened the door narrowly with a smile on my face. \n\n\"Good morning, officer. What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"Sir, please step back. We have reports of a psychopath hiding in the building and we need to search the place.\"\n\n\"Of course, sir. Would you like some coffee?\"\n\nThe guy walked away without another word to me. Rude. \n\n------\n\nWhile I sat sipping my cup of deliciously hot coffee, he went through my place and by the time I was done, he spoke the words \"All clear\" through his headset.\n\n\"Stay safe, sir.\"\n\n\"I will. I have you guys to count on.\"\n\nI shut the door and walked over to the bedroom. I shifted the fourth book in the third row of my bookcase. The wall adjacent to my bed opened up with a slight click. I made my way through the dark passageway until it led to a tiny, dim room. In a corner of it, Susan was huddled up - her arms around herself, her eyes full of fear and confusion, dirty and all sweaty. In her right had, she clutched a cell-phone. \n\n\"Come on, Susan. This is the second time. I thought we were friends. Now give me the phone.\"\n\nShe coiled further into her shell, trying to recede further into the corner of the room. \n\n\"You'll get your phone back when I believe you won't act stupid again,\" I said and grabbed the phone from her, quite easily. People aren't very strong when they eat only one time a day. \n\n\"Try to stay up tonight, Sue. It isn't any fun when you're passed out.\"\n\n------\n\nChannel 31 showed the cops leaving the location. A false alarm. Of course. I picked up my phone, hoping the line to the microwave company was fixed. I wouldn't wish the torture of it on my worst enemy. ",
"As darkness fell across the clustered buildings, a man hurriedly scuttled through traffic. Cramped gaps filled with car horns and expletives were occasionally lost in the noise of a bustling city, a city that never sleeps, and all Brian wanted to do was sleep. \n\nHe clutched multiple canisters stuffed with maps that disintegrated with each jostle of the tubes and neared the other side of the street. His eyes danced to both ends of the block, weary of those that confidently strode past his apartment. In that singular moment, his mind rebelled against the haphazard thoughts that continued to overwhelm it, and his foot caught in the storm drain. \n\nAs his maps scattered, a pain flew up his left leg as it strained to stay attached to his rounder body as it collapsed on the damp sidewalk. A gasp escaped him as he scrambled to contain his maps while unhooking his foot from the gap that only he seemed able to trip on. \n\nHe had gathered all but one of the canisters and crawled on one hand and scraped his knees across the sidewalk to that final gray tube, when a delicate hand settled on its side. Brian stopped with his breath caught in his throat, pausing for a moment before glancing up to see who was touching his things. \n\n“Hi,” an elder women said as she carefully lifted the tube, a faint grimace tickled the edges of her lips as she fought to stand straight once more. One strand of hair fell out from within her bright red scarf and dangled in front of one eye as she watched Brian with soft brown eyes.\n\nBrian reached out, ready to snatch the map from the hand, but paused. He remembered where he was, what he was doing, and gathered himself on his feet before extending a hand out.\n\n“Th-th-thank you for h-h-helping m-me,” he forced out; his nervousness made his stutter worsen. \n\nThe woman gracefully handed the tube over, and, upon Brian having it in his grasp once more, he escaped her eyes by running up the stairs to his apartment building and slamming the front door behind him. He pushed himself against one wall, hiding away from the eyes of the woman as he fought to soften the drum pounding in his ears. Brian, upon remembering the round turnstiles of the mailboxes, pushed against the wall harder, digging the metal through his shirt and into his skin, forcing him to think of something other than his paranoia. \n\nOnce his pulse slowed, he sidestepped until he could no longer see the people hustling past his building, and made his way up the stairs. Reaching the fourth floor, he fumbled with his keys until the door eventually opened. He locked it behind him, his usual ritual of turning three out of five deadbolts on his door, and set his work behind a lone bookshelf on the far side of the room before collapsing on the futon in the middle of the floor and closed his eyes.\n\nHe laid there for what seemed like 15 minutes, but, upon rolling over to noisy steps coming from the hallway, he glanced at the clock on the wall: 10:37pm. Brian remembered he hadn’t even had dinner yet, and reached for the remote as he stood. Pressing the appropriate buttons, he turned away from the tele and found himself in the freezer again to grab a frozen dinner, all while the sounds of a commercial droned out the happenings in his building. He felt like he was in a haze as he watched the food rotate through the glass in front of him, before realizing the news had lit up his living space. He cocked his head from behind the fridge and squinted at the words rolling across the screen. Brian’s heart stopped as he read the warning to avoid his block. There were three buildings in the scope of the helicopter, which he faintly heard in the distance. Mumbling, he stared at the screen in disbelief, hoping, praying.\n\t\nACTIVE HOSTAGE SITUATION followed by an address. His address. They’ve found him.\n\n-----\n\nOn the far side of stretched police tape, an elderly woman stood stiff aside a tree. Her hair was tucked back underneath her red scarf, and she watched with vicious brown eyes as the police stood in formation, awaiting orders. A smile fell across her lips as one, two, three shots echoes from the 6th floor of the building.\n\n*This is my first submission, I hope you liked what you read!*",
"I looked around to see if I was watching the same movie as everyone else. Three seats down from me, that really famous actor met my eyes then gave me two thumbs up. I gave a forced, awkward smile then sat back in my seat. I guess I could see why everyone liked the movie, it was... dramatic, I guess. Anyway, since it was my true story - with me as the main character - I was getting paid a lot, so why complain, right?\n\nBut still, having to sit through two hours of some director's idea of what *he* thought you had lived through, ranked among my less favorite experiences - and I've had a lot of those over the years. So after the New York premier ended and I'd finished taking photos with celebrities, I hopped on my Harley Davidson and headed back to my new apartment.\n\nAfter my family and friends had convinced me to write and publish my experiences last year, I'd been surprised to find myself a best-selling author with an influx of cash I'd never enjoyed before; a nice place with a view of Central Park had seemed like a good way to enjoy my new income.\n\nI hit my big bed that night, still shaking my head at the movie. Had they actually shown me crying and holding a child? That hadn't really happened. I chuckled to myself and tried to doze-off.\n\nI couldn't sleep at all. The stupid Spielberg movie of my life, as weird as it had been, had still managed to kind of bring up old memories. You know how that is - there's no sleeping when that happens.\n\nSo I got up and wandered around my vast, plush apartment. I poked my head out my front door, into the broad hallway. I happened to spot my neighbor, a famous comedian (coming back from some party, judging by the lit joint in his mouth, his 'pimping' attire, and the two nice young ladies at his side). He grinned widely at me as he swiped his card to his door across the way.\n\n\"Hey John, up late, man?\" he asked, letting his giggling friends into his apartment.\n\n\"Yeah,\" I replied. \"Have a good night, Dave.\"\n\nDave paused for a second, \"You know, John. I know you used to be a cop and all, but if you're having trouble sleeping...\" he held out the joint to me and grinned like a kid stealing a cookie.\n\n\"Maybe some other time,\" I said - graciously, though.\n\nDave looked at his joint with the same cookie-stealing smile, explaining to the little smokable, \"Don't worry baby, its him not you.\" Then he took a long drag and spoke constrictedly through his smokey exhalation, \"Well, if you're still up in a hour,\" *small cough* \"Then just come knockin'.\"\n\n\"Sure, maybe. If I'm still up, Dave.\"\n\nDave smiled his TV-ready smile and danced back into his apartment, closing the door behind him. I closed my door behind me.\n\nI walked through my darkened front room and into the kitchen. I made myself a sandwich and flipped on the TV. *Hostage situation, officers injured,* got my attention. Goddamn it, the TV showed a helicopter view of my apartment building.\n\nMy front door was suddenly kicked open. I quickly shut off the lights in the kitchen and stared through the cracked door into my front room. I could see the hostage takers holding a gun to my neighbor Dave's head. I reached into my silverware drawer and pulled out something every cop has. There were three of the hostage takers, but I had seven rounds. I burst from my kitchen.\n\nI now had only five rounds left but zero hostage takers. I waited for Dave to stop screaming.\n\n\"Holy shit, John!\" Dave had backed into a corner of my front room, his arms flailing at the three dead, ski-masked men on my floor as he asked, \"Are they dead?\"\n\n\"Yeah, Dave. They're dead,\" I said, kicking over the nearest one to check for ID or clues. \"I shot them with my gun.\"\n\n\"What are you doing man? Call the cops in! You just shot all the hostage takers!\"\n\nI pulled a wallet out from one of the dead guys' pockets; it was empty. \"I don't think it's just these three.\" I said, throwing the empty wallet down on the guy's chest.\n\n\"What do you mean, you don't think it's just these three?\" Dave asked skeptically, though still fairly terrified.\n\n\"Just call it a hunch. This isn't the first time I've been in a situation like this.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute, John,\" Dave said, squinting his bloodshot eyes as he looked at me with growing recognition. \"You used to be a cop, and you've been in hostage situations before?\" The realization hit him. \"Holy shit! You're John McClane!\"\n\n\"Yes I am,\" I replied, throwing Dave the dead hostage taker's gun. \"But sometimes I wish someone else was.\"",
"\"Hostage situation, officers injured, police advises calm, evacuation in progress ...\"\n\nThe words buzzed in my ears as I sat on my couch, transfixed at the feed on the TV showing my apartment building from ground level, unmistakable for its horrendous, faded mustard-yellow bricks.\n\nJust in front of the cameraman stood a squad of police officers listening to a briefing, even as several others maintained a cordon by their vehicles. Curious onlookers had gathered, braving the night chill in their fur coats, gazes turned upward. I had an eerie sensation that they were looking right at my unit.\n\nShould I run now? I thought. My hands seemed to disagree; they gripped the arms of my chair even harder. Or wait a little longer?\n\nI hadn't heard any commotion in the hallway. Then again, how many insomniacs were in the building watching the news at this very moment?\n\nScrew this, I needed some coffee first.\n\nI went to the kitchen, switched on the light, and started getting grounds out for the machine. At the same time, I counted the huddle of bruised, blue-uniformed men and women tied together in a corner by the dining table. Their presence made the already small place look even more cramped, but my guests' stay was intended to be temporary anyway.\n\nOne loop of rope lay in a loose bundle on the linoleum, but it wasn't the result of a daring escape.\n\n\"Good news, guys. The one I let go--was it Carl? Kevin?--has brought the cavalry,\" I said to them. They couldn't answer, of course, gagged as they were. They could glare, though. \"Or else it's some strange, kidnapping coincidence.\"\n\nAs I spoke, the rotors of a helicopter began growing in volume. That could make things more difficult for me, if I had to run.\n\nIf I lived long enough to run.\n\n\"I just hope Kevin remembers the message, otherwise everything's gonna be a huge waste of time.\" I stirred my coffee and took a sip.\n\nThe cops mumbled and grumbled. I shrugged and began making a second cup. Kevin seemed like a bright fellow; he wouldn't have made a mistake.\n\n\"If I were you, I'd worry about my friends more than I'd worry about me. Oh, I don't mean the force, I'm sure they won't get trigger-happy in a hostage situation.\"\n\n\"I'm talking about *those* guys.\" I glanced at them. A couple had froze and gone pale. \"Didn't even think about that did you? Sure, I could nuke you from here, but when the Department brings their meanest kids, they'll nuke the freaking block.\"\n\nMy own words made me more tense than ever. I wasn't lying to scare the officers; that was the darned truth. We could all go up in incandescent flame, at any moment, and there was crap-all I could do about it.\n\nWhich was why Kevin had better not screwed this up.\n\nI took the second cup with me to the living room, and that was when the first knock came.\n\nShoot, I certainly hadn't expected them to be here with both my hands occupied!\n\nHastily, I set the cups down on the shoe rack, before creeping to the door. Unconsciously, I drew on my magic, lighting my left fingertips with power. Then I checked the peephole for my visitors.\n\nA man stood outside, middle-aged and gaining around the middle. He was mopping his forehead with a handkerchief, probably because he'd had to hike up six floors.\n\nThere was no trace of nervousness or fear in his beetle-black eyes. If anything, they held annoyance.\n\nMore importantly, and frustratingly, he was alone. Damn Kevin!\n\n\"Hands up, palms backward,\" I barked through the door.\n\nHe complied immediately, to the point of dropping his handkerchief. \"I presume it's Dearborn I'm speaking to?\"\n\n\"You know damn well who.\" I yanked the door open, grabbed his necktie, pressed my glowing fingertips against his chest and quickly checked the hallway. Empty but for us.\n\n\"Where is she?\" I said. His cologne burrowed into my nostrils; a stray thought that I hadn't showered in two days wormed its way into my mind.\n\n\"She'll be arriving soon. Traffic, you know.\" A smirk flashed across his face.\n\n\"I told that cop specifically that you were to arrive together--\"\n\n\"So that you can murder us both in one go? I think not. Are we going to wake the neighbors, or are you going to invite me inside?\"\n\nI growled, but moved aside to make way for him. \"Stand there. Face the window. Keep your palms away from me. Stay still. Don't even think about scratching an itch or I'll kill you.\"\n\n\"And here I was thinking you’d be civil. Is that coffee mine?\"\n\n\"Civil, Hart? To the people who captured me, tortured me, tried to indoctrinate me, turn me into a killing machine, and then locked me up at a black site when I wouldn’t?\"\n\nHart was silent for a moment. Then he said, \"Where are the hostages?\"\n\n\"Somewhere in the building,\" I said. A shitty, transparent lie, but it wasn't like Hart could confirm it for himself anyway.\n\n\"You promised nobody would be hurt if we just talked.\"\n\n\"No, I promised that only if you bring something that belongs to me.\"\n\n\"Those cops didn't do anything wrong, Dearborn.\"\n\n\"Other than cornering me yesterday?\"\n\nHart released a heavy sigh. \"There's a manhunt for you, you know that. You killed a lot of people during that break out at Riker's.\"\n\nI shrugged. \"Today's different. Anyone who dies will be by your hand.\"\n\nDeep down, I was swearing to myself. It was supposed to have been a lot more straightforward. The cops were my only bargaining chip, but Hart had seen through my request and known what I'd been truly after.\n\n\"When's she coming?\" I said.\n\nMoisture was beading on the back of Hart's balding crown, despite the relative coolness. \"Any minute now.\"\n\nThe sight of his sweat drew my mind back to the handkerchief, which he'd left outside. Why had he--damn!\n\nI threw myself to the side just as the door exploded behind me. Hart dashed toward the kitchen on his left, but I didn't have time to deal with him. My ears were ringing, and as I rolled to my feet, the first police officer entered the room, rifle held at ready.\n\nI blasted him into the wall with a shock wave of invisible force, and dealt with the second the same way, who landed on the shoe rack and shattered it to kindling beneath him.\n\nThe third had just entered when I barreled into him. His gun went off once, deafeningly loud, before I channeled magical strength into my arms and threw into the squad waiting outside. Then I set them all on fire.\n\nTheir screams followed me as I plunged down the hallway. The flames weren't hot enough to be lethal, but it would incapacitate them long enough for my escape. Doors began opening and confused voices emerged from behind them. Then shouts of surprise came when I sent a streak of blue-white lightning into a nearby circuit box.\n\nFortunately, I'd thought ahead and learned to navigate the building blindfolded throughout the two weeks I'd been staying here. The darkness didn't bother me much as I flew down the emergency stairs.\n\nNear the bottom, I encountered two officers standing watch, who gave away their positions by their heavy breathing. Then again, so did I.\n\n\"Stop, identify you--augh!\" I dropped her with a cannonball of force, clipping her partner as well and causing him to stagger. I slugged him in the face as I passed, for good measure, and then burst into the alley behind the building.\n\nGasping for breath and trying to adjust to the relative brightness outside, I stopped for a moment. Then a sharp pain lanced through my chest. A needle's prick ... that blossomed into agony.\n\nI howled and fell to my knees, clutching the spot. Smoke trickled up between my fingers, smelling of charred flesh--my own flesh.\n\n\"Miss me?\"\n\nThe speaker stepped into view from behind a dumpster. She was six feet tall, with sharp, beautiful features and raven black hair that fell to her waist. Her hands glowed with red-white flame, casting a halo around her silhouette.\n\n\"Bitch,\" I choked out, trying to raise my palm toward her. Instead, both arms flopped weakly onto the floor.\n\nShe snorted. \"Did you really think I was going to walk into your house and let you kill me? If you'd stopped fantasizing about payback for just a moment, you'd have realized how flimsy your little plan was.\"\n\nI tried to call my magic, but the power winked out before I could begin. She'd burned a hole through my heart.\n\n\"Remember when you were training under me? The things I taught you, the good we accomplished, wiping out terrorists and gangsters? \"\n\nMy mind was whiting out; I dimly realized I couldn't see anything more than shapes. The cold, maybe. The night. Dark. Whatever. Her shape. Her shape was still there. My fingers twitched. People's bodies did funny things when they were dying.\n\nSmooth, icy fingers cupped my chin and raised my head. I couldn't focus on her eyes. \"I never understood why,\" she said softly. The words hurt my ears. \"Why throw it all away to die kneeling in a puddle of shit?\"\n\nBlood trickled over my lips as I said, \"You're--because you're--the worst sister--\"\n\nAnd I threw the last of my energy into the ground. The last sound I heard was the world exploding around me.\n\n***\n\n*Thanks for reading, check out my [sub](http://reddit.com/r/nonsenselocker) if you'd like to see more of my work!*"
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[WP] Magic, it happens, is real ; it just takes an innate talent. You and your best friend have it, and just learned about it.
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"\"This is fantastic!\" Hector said. He waved his fingers in the air and released a rainbow of light shaped like musical notes. \"We know magic!\" Hector danced around in the center of his room, surrounded by by a whirlwind of different colored musical notes. His best friend Ricky sat on the bed and stared at him with a less enthusiastic look on his face. Ricky waved his own hands in the air, he released sparks of purple energy. \n\n\"We can *use* magic,\" Ricky said. He shook both of his hands and purple energy sprinkled out like a powder. \"But I wouldn't say we *know* magic. Why do you get the cool rainbow notes?\" Ricky stood up from the bed and walked toward Hector. He bumped into a green note in the air.\n\n\"OW!\" Ricky yelled. His hand shot to his upper arm where the note hit. \n\n\"Sorry! I didn't know they did that!\" Hector's panic caused the notes to disappear from the air. He ran to Ricky's side to check the damage. Instead of letting him see, Ricky threw a handful of purple powder at Hector's face.\n\n\"Yeah, I don't know what mine does either.\" Ricky laughed at Hector's frantic movements to get the dust off his face. \n\n\"LEAVE ME ALONE! STOP!!\" Hector yelled \"NO!\" He stepped back and stumbled to the ground. He panicked and crab walked backward to a corner of his room. His eyes were wide and his chest heaved with fast, deep breaths. \"GO AWAY!!\" Tears poured from Hector's eyes. He rolled curled into his body and buried his head in his knees. \"pleaasssse...\" he whimpered. \n\n\"Oh shit, I'm sorry!\" Ricky shook his hands, unsure of what else to do. Purple powder fell from his hands as he tried to end the effect. He walked to Ricky's side and knelt down next to him on the floor. \"Heck? Hey man, snap out of it.\" After several moments Hector looked up with red puffy eyes. \n\n\"Whoa.\" He elbowed Ricky in the ribs, and allowed his friend to help him up. \"Don't ever do that again... to anyone. That was terrifying.\" Hector took several deep breaths to try and calm himself down again. The paranoia was not entirely gone, but it was manageable. Ricky helped his friend sit down on the bed and sat down next to him. \n\n\"These things are crazy, man. We've really gotta learn how to use them properly, before anyone gets really hurt.\" Hector released a golden note into the air. It hit a wall and disappeared. Nothing happened. \n\n\"Yeah, but I wish we knew where it came from. I'd love to see if we could get more, or maybe different powers,\" Ricky said. \n\n\"We got our tattoos a few days ago, maybe the guy used magic ink or something?\" Hector lifted his right foot to the bed and pulled down his sock to admire the tattoo. At 14 he needed to keep it hidden from his parents. It was a red and black electric guitar with the [number 32](http://hserratafun.blogspot.com/2017/11/hugoverse-guidebook.html), his favorite number, in golden numbers on the soundboard. Ricky put his left hand near Hector's ankle to look at his tattoo also. It was a dagger with a scroll around it. On the scroll the [number 12](http://hserratafun.blogspot.com/2017/11/hugoverse-guidebook.html) was written in gold. Ricky's parents passed away, so there was no one to punish him for getting a tattoo so young. \n\n\"Maybe,\" Ricky said. He did not sound convinced. \"Anyway, let's go test these out somewhere. I wanna see what we can do.\" \n\n\"That's a good idea, just take it easy with that stuff,\" Hector said. The two left Hector's house and walked to the nearby shopping district. The square was packed with people streaming in and out of shops. The smell of food hit Hector's nose. \n\n\"Hey, maybe we shouldn't do magic on an empty stomach,\" Hector said. He smiled at Ricky and led the way to their favorite pizza shop. The waitress smiled at them as they walked in. Hector nodded at the cute girl.\n\n\"Usual,\" Hector said. Ricky nodded in agreement and they sat down at their regular table. Ricky's hand hovered over the rustic wooden table, and he winked at Hector. \n\n\"I'm gonna try something,\" he said. He released a small, single speck of purple powder from his hand onto the table. The waitress brought their sodas and Ricky flicked the speck of powder at her. She jumped with a yelp the instant it touched her. The sodas spilled all over her uniform, and the glasses shattered on the floor. \n\n\"I'M SO SORRY!\" The waitress yelled than ran away to the back of the kitchen. Hector kicked Ricky's shin under the table.\n\n\"Asshole, leave her alone!\" \n\n\"I was just testing it out, we have to learn don't we? What's wrong, you like her? She's like 20, man. She's not going to be into a kid like you.\" Ricky grinned at Hector. \n\n\"She's always nice to us is all, just leave her alone.\" Hector grabbed the napkin dispenser and stood from the table. He knelt on the floor to clean up the glass and soda. Hector heard some noises coming from the kitchen, then the cook walked out wheeling a bucket and mop. He reached the table and apologized. \n\n\"Janie's sorry guys. She thought she saw a giant spider on her hand or something. I dunno. I sent her home,\" the cook said. He began to pull the mop out, but Hector stopped him.\n\n\"I'll take care of it, just don't let our pizzas burn,\" he smiled at the cook. The cook nodded and walked back to the kitchen. Hector knelt down again to make sure he picked up all the glass, then he mopped up the soda. While he worked Ricky stared at him with annoyance.\n\n\"Man, you are too nice.\" Ricky complained after Hector returned the mop bucket and sat down again. He brought fresh drinks for both of them. A young woman in a purple and gold hoodie appeared at the side of their table. Hector looked up at her. He caught a twinkle of purple behind her eyes, though the hood kept most of her face in shadow. Her hands were in the front pocket.\n\n\"You're definitely too nice, but that's a good thing!\" the woman said. Her hand moved out of her pocket to pull the hood down. Her blue glowing hair was not as surprising as her golden hands. \n\n\"I'm Jenny, can I sit down and talk to you guys for a bit?\" She asked. She placed a couple of bills on the table. \"I'll pay for your lunch.\" A golden number 46 glowed on her forehead. \n\n \n***\nThank you for reading! You can find more of my writings on my [blog](http://hserratafun.blogspot.com/2017/10/front-page.html). ",
"A hush fell over my friend Jace and I. From what was once a peaceful forest, a thick cloud of black smoke was rising from a tree stump. \nBreaking the long silence, I exclaimed in disbelief: \"Y-you... Surely that didn't... Did that just... No, it couldn't-\". \"That tree just exploded,\" Jace stated in a calm manner of disbelief. \"That tree just vanished. Did you see that Chris? One second it was there, and the next it was smoldering in ash\". Jace and I exchanged glances, a shared look of disbelief across our faces. I began to stammer. \"That couldn't have happened, maybe lightning struck it, maybe it was slowly burning this whole time, there has to be a good explanation for it, perhaps-\". \n\nAt this point Jace cut me off. \"There's a perfect explanation for it, don't you see?\". I stood there, puzzled at his words. \"Think back,\" he continued on \"Think back to when we were kids. We'd run through the woods, in search of trolls and dragons, yelling curses and spells at one another! Don't you see? It's Magic!\"\n\nI stood, mouth agape in disbelief in what my friend had just said. \"Surely you can't be serious?!\", I uttered in shock, \"Magic? Why, magic is no more than a tale used to inspire children! To keep them feeling wonder and hope in a world that needs more. There's no such thing as magic. It's no more real than Santa Claus, or the Easter bunny!\"\n\nJace was taken aback. He began to become angry \"Then how do you explain that?! Look at that, Chris! That tree exploded! The sky is clear and blue, it wasn't lightning!\". At this he began to gesture at the trees, and became infuriated. \"DAMN IT, you need to listen to me for once! I'm sick of-\". Suddenly, jace was cut off mid sentence, as a loud BOOM filled the air. A scarlet bolt of fire flew fro his fingertips directly at me. Unable to think of what to do, I threw my hands in front of my face, and braced myself.\n\nIntense heat hit me, and even with my eyes closed everything turned white. A sound of a powerful explosion shook my senses, and the ground. After a minute of silence, I heard Jace again. \"Holy crap! Are you okay man?!\". When I opened my eyes, I found I was not in fact dead, as I had expected to be. I was knocked off my feet, arms still outstretched in front of me. And when I looked around, all my doubts disappeared. \n\nThe ground around me had been scorched black as coal. All around me, trees had been knocked down, and snapped in half. bushes were nothing but sticks and cinders around me, yet I was unharmed. A small patch of grass and bused survived behind me, in a pattern much like a drop of rain. And when my vision finally focused once again on Jace, that's when I saw it. \n\nIn front of my outstretched hands, was a blue, almost ethereal wall of interlocking hexagons. It was shaped like a shield you would see in some kind of sci-fi games, like the ones me and Jace used to play when we were kids. Yet it spawned directly from the palms of my hands. When I finally put my hands down, it disappeared. I looked at Jace. \"Do you know what this means?\" I asked. Before he had the chance to answer the question, I chimed in. \"We are wizards, Jace!!\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThank you all for reading, this is the first submission I've ever made to this sub. Comments and feedback are appreciated, as well as any formatting tips or mistakes I may have made. Hope you enjoyed!!"
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[WP] The super-villain has set his entire plan in place. Unfortunately, he dies in a freak accident on the way home from shopping, and his goons are left to their own devices...
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"The doors slammed open, a burst of light filling the room. The silhouetted figure stood there, panting profusely. The people in the room stared at the figure, squinting as their eyes adjusted to the light.\n\nThe man in the doorway finally caught his breath and shouted, \"He's dead! The boss is DEAD!\"\n\nA gasp rippled through the room. Many of the workers murmured to each other. One of the older men rose to his feet, his orange suit sagging on his withering body. \"What do you mean dead? This is Major Chaos we are talking about here. What could possibly kill him?\"\n\nThe man with the news, strode into the room, the light dimming as the door closed behind him. The others recognized him as Nigel, the right hand man for Major Chaos. \"I don't know, but I think it had to do with the explosion on the highway. They're saying it was a gas main break. It doesn't matter, the point is we're finished.\"\n\nA young woman piped up in the rear. \"What do you mean, finished?\"\n\nNigel shook his head. \"Who's going to tell us what to do? Who's going to come up with the big plans? Who's going to pay us? Face it, with the boss dead, we're all out of jobs. You might as well start polishing up your resumes. I can act as a referenc--\"\n\nHis words were drowned out by a spate of yelling from the crowd that was gathering. One man in the back yelled, \"You expect me to find a new job? I *killed* a man! Where do I put that on my application? You were the only ones that were willing to bring me on. You even gave me a bonus for that!\"\n\n\"I know, I know. It's a tough situation. I will reach out to a few of the other villains in the area. I know Dr. Tomb is always looking for new staff.\" Nigel knew he had made a mistake by saying that, as the volume of the yelling seemed to triple in pitch.\n\n\"Dr. Tomb? *Dr. Tomb?* You mean the crazy mummy guy? No thanks. His outfits are just wrappings! WRAPPINGS!\" The man screaming that was apoplectic.\n\nAnother woman shouted, her voice piercing the room. \"Why do we even have to leave? Why can't we just do the job?\"\n\nA hush filled the room at those words. Nigel glared a the woman, who seemed to realize what she said and tried to merge into the crowd. \"Janice, are you serious? We can't just do the job. There's a reason Major Chaos did the work, and we were the grunts. We need someone to tell us what to do.\"\n\n\"But, but, but why? We're the ones who did all the work for him. We know how all his machines work, we can build the death rays. Heck, we still have the nuclear missile that he stole a month ago! We could run this operation!\"\n\nThe murmuring had returned, but now the tone had changed. Whereas before everyone seemed resigned to their fate, now there was an air of optimism. Men and women were discussing ideas for plans.\n\nNigel raised a hand for silence, then sighed in resignation. \"I just don't want us to be disappointed when something goes wrong. We're in way over our heads here. I don't mind trying, but--\"\n\nFor the second time in a short while, Nigel was overwhelmed, as the crowd broke into applause and cheers. People were hugging each other; goggles and hard hats were thrown in the air in celebration.\n\nBart, the old man, looked at Nigel, a grin on his face that that missing quite a few teeth. \"So, *Boss*, what's the plan?\"\n\nNigel stood there for a second, a smile of his own growing as the words sank in. He started pacing the room, the rest of the grunts following his strides. \"We'll...oh wow, we'll uh, we'll send off demands for money...no, gold! And if they don't comply, we'll, er, we'll send that nuke right at the capital!\"\n\nThe crowd cheered again, then fell in behind Nigel as he led the way to the control panel. He pulled up the systems for hacking, and after a few minutes, they had control of the local television systems. A camera to Nigel's right blinked on, focusing automatically.\n\nNigel cleared his throat and looked directly into the camera. \"We...are the Legion of Chaos. We are here to take control of your precious city. We have a nuclear missile targeted at the city. If we do not receive ten billion dollars in gold within one hour, we will launch that missile. The clock is ticking.\"\n\nNigel ended the communication, then turned to the group. \"We've done it! We are putting ourselves on the map!\"\n\nThe cheers were deafening. The next hour was spent in celebration. As they neared the deadline, Nigel again strode to the control panel, thinking. He thought about his words before, and a smirk spread across his face, replaced with a look of panic.\n\n\"I forgot to tell them where to put the money,\" he whispered to himself. In a flash, the look was gone, replaced by the smirk from earlier.\n\nIn a louder voice, he shouted to the revelers, \"Time's up! Time to fire!\" He began to play with the buttons on the panel, and the opening for the missile began to open. He targeted the city capital, then pressed the button to begin the countdown. Nothing happened. Confused, he hit the button several times, with no response. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a small window that had popped up. He scanned the screen, his face falling by the second.\n\n\"Nigel, what are you waiting for? Send the missile and announce our power to the world!\" Janice yelled out, her screech breaking the silence.\n\nNigel looked at him, sadly. \"I can't. He...he set a password.\"\n\n/u/TemporaryPatch New Years Resolution Tracker: 3/100"
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[WP] You are an alien on planet Earth that is unable to feel temperature. In order to blend in, you use a thermometer to know how cold or hot it is, and dress accordingly. One day, your thermometer malfunctions, and shows the temperature as 100° F, instead of 1° F.
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"Stretching after laying on one of those abominable 'Memory Foam' mattresses, I felt the stiff cartilage that made up where human bones should have been pop and crack back into place. *How the hell do humans sleep on these torture devices...*\n\nPicking up my Ethos All-Atmosphere Reader, I checked the screen and read:\n\n\"The temperature within your current surroundings is 100 degrees local unit measurements. This equates to a 'hot' environment.\"\n\n*Guess that means 'shorts' and a 'tank-top'. This reconnaissance assignment is getting really weird with all these different 'clothes' these humans wear...*\n\nI dressed appropriately in accordance to the EAAR's direction and brought up my agenda on my bio-optics heads up display implanted into my right eye.\n\n\"Unit F'thangle - Mission Update for Local Lunar Cycle 11: Proceed to the local goods exchange location; 'Walmart' and acquire the following goods:\n\n1. A starchy vegetable that is often pummeled into submission after being boiled and used to prepare 'mashed potatoes'. Name of vegetable is still pending.\n\n2. Ground brown seeds often used to filter water into a more potable form. Name of this substance is currently unknown.\n\n3. Some kind of cleaning detergent that contains a substance we have come to know as 'Lemon Scent'. We think this Lemon Scent chemical is the reason humans are able to keep their fruits and vegetables fresh for extended periods of time.\n\nThis list has been compiled in order to make you seem as human as possible. While in the check out line, it is advised you browse the 'snacks' that will no doubt surround you. Pick a few up and then place them back down. Do not buy anything as this has been discovered to be a strange habit. Good luck.\"\n\n*Another scavenging hunt...*\n\nWearing the only shorts I was able to find, a thin pair of what I had come to understand as 'swimming trunks' with bright hues and a draw string around the waist, I looked for the tank top. I pulled the gray clothing over my head and proceeding to envelope my feet in the odd sandals I had heard so much about.\n\nLooking out the window, I could see the whiteness of snow falling from the sky and covering the city around me. I shuffled through the snow in my shorts and tank top and checked my watch to make sure the temperature reading was correct. '100 local units'. Someone who was completely enveloped in what appeared to be several layers of material gave me an odd look.\n\nI lifted a hand and waved, hoping it was the correct gesture. \"Greetings, fellow human!\" They shot me another strange glance and continued on, looking me up and down. Perhaps I did not choose the correct hues or something. No matter, I had to make my way to this Walmart.\n\nIt was around the corner thankfully, everything seemed to be close by here in the city but I did notice the strange lack of humans walking about in this white landscape. I pushed the thought from my mind and trudged through the few inches of show, kicking my feet a bit to get the white stuff from in between my feet and the sandal material.\n\nStepping into the building, I noticed that everyone seemed to be looking at me with strange expressions. Again, they all seemed to gaze down at my clothes. I waved my hand once more, \"Good day, fellow—\"\n\n\"What the hell...\" someone muttered as they placed a few items on a belt of conveyance for the goods they were exchanging.\n\n\"Dude... it's one fucking degree outside...\" another voice murmured.\n\n\"What are you a freakin' alien or something?\"\n\nThat last one caught my audio receptors. My eyes grew wide as my hand was still in the air waving. I then turned, pressure building up in my core as worry began to overtake me. I did the only thing I could think to do, I ran. My feet carried me through the snow as fast as they could back to my apartment. I tapped my watch and a small red disc appeared above my wrist in a holographic fashion. I brought it to my mouth and spoke frantically.\n\n\"My cover's blown, repeat cover is blown. I need extraction immediately!\" I rounded the corner and quickly made it up to my apartment in a few moments. I picked up my EAAR and tapped a few buttons on the screen.\n\nOutside, I could feel more than hear a sudden boom that shook the building. I knew my ride had come, I needed out before the armed authorities came. I held the EAAR close to my chest as I waited. A cylinder of light then appeared around me and all at once, I felt myself being sucked away back up to the ship that had just entered the atmosphere. I had been saved.\n\n~~~\n\n\"It was strange I tell ya', damn thing just popped out form that there sky!\" The man pointed to a group of clouds before pulling his coat closer around him. \"I dun took a picture of that thinger but it turned out a bit blurry. Rodger over there dun took one of them moving pictures on his phone but it looks out of focus.\" Walking off screen, the man began to call to this 'Rodger'. The reporter then turned to the camera and gave a knowing smile.\n\n\"Well, there you have it folks, this is Cynthia Rodriguez here in Arkham, Massachusetts, back to you Robert.\""
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[WP] You were raised in a billionaire family, getting everything you've asked for. When you turn 18, your parents sell everything they own, and donate every cent they have to charity.
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"That's okay. I can live without money. Of course I can, my parents weren't born rich, they earned it on their own with their little jobs, built their way up to the enterprises they used to own. And then they went ahead and sold it all right when I needed it. \n\n\nI opened my wallet. Twenty dollars, or 6 pints of beer. Let's ration this out. Okay. Three today, three tomorrow. Perfect, with dad's employees laid off, that means I haven't got a job either. But wait, we haven't got cars anymore. I can't drive to the liquor store, I'll have to walk. It's not that far, so that's fine. I will survive for two more days. \n\n\nI awoke a day later with my wallet empty, my clothes soiled, and my mouth dry. I had spent every dollar on that first day and now I am truly left with nothing. The only thing to do now is to find my parents. \n\n\nI knocked at their door. Footsteps inside. The door opened. \"Hello, honey.\" Said mother. \"Why did you give everything away?\" I asked her. She pointed a finger at me. And her face grew stern. \"If you have to ask, you don't deserve any of it.\" She said. \"Well, is there anything left?\" I said. \"Yes, of course.\" She closed the door in my face and locked it. \n\n\nAn hour later I picked up the eviction notice at the front of our door. The hour after that, I found a couple of cinder bricks by the neighbour's lawn. I tied three of them together with rope, along with my left leg. Holding the blocks in both arms, I bent myself low enough to walk my way to the pool. It was green now, layered in flith from having not been cleaned lately. I was informed the day before that all workers on the estate were told to leave two weeks prior to my birthday, and that my parents, old as they are, cleaned parts the house themselves. This confused me, as to why the rich and old would choose to do the lesser work themselves. \n\nI threw the bricks into the pool and I was dragged into it. My left leg went in first but my right leg slipped against the side of the pool. My legs were forced into a split position, where I then heard the organic sounds of muscle tearing. The pain was seething into all parts of my body, and in response all the lights went out. \n\n\nA day later, Gus and Maureen would burst into my room. In their hands, would be half their worth, five hundred million dollars in property, assets, and cash, written in my name. It would have been mine. "
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[WP] 10 years ago you were abducted by aliens, right now you are the richest man of the galaxy.
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"I was seemingly a nobody to them. Nothing more than a lost orphan who ran away because of a life decision I had no choice of making. The caretakers were horrible, as was the headmaster. The place stank of shit and piss and everyone backstabbed you just to get your rations for the day. I was hoping for the day I'd turn eighteen where they can finally throw me out. However, I decided not to wait any longer and I decided to run off the day after my sixteenth birthday.\n\nHappy Birthday Jake. I never expected to survive out there on my own. Then again, I never expected a lot of things when I decided to run across the countryside one day. I don't remember what state I was in, if I was even in America at all. Since that fateful day, memories of my old life just disappeared. Good riddance I say.\n\nIt happened when I was treading the side of the road, gazing across the empty horizon. No cars were in sight. I couldn't hitch a ride, didn't want to. Never trusted people anymore.\n\nIt was dark out and only the street lights illuminated my path. Across the farm fields were dimly lit houses. Nothing out of the ordinary really. That was when I saw it. The lights cut as a loud roaring rumble from above shook the earth. It prompted me to look up and there it was. Like something out of a sci-fi movie was a spaceship shaped like the spades of a card, with metallic protrusions coming out of the side, giving it the shape of a head of a weapon.\n\nI remembered screaming as the thing followed me, light shooting out my way. Then an arm like apparatus reached out and yanked me from the back collar of my shirt and pulled me up into the sky. I continued to scream and call out for anyone to help. I remembered then that I had ran away and was treading the countryside which was practically devoid of active human contact.\n\n\nThat was ten years ago. A lot happened since then. What happened to me after? I became the head of a multi-trillion intergalactic corporation and, basically, the richest mother fucker in the galaxy. I had everything I could ever hope for. The luxury of life, friends, companions, and a goal in life. I was hungry for adventure... thirsty for knowledge! To think, it all boiled down to me being abducted by several, ten legged pronged handed humanoid beings meant to put me in a zoo for sociological-biological studies. They figured out I was capable of complex thinking and intelligent behavior. I spent years as a student to my captors, learning every single life lesson I could get. Unfortunately, they were standards by their species. They had no idea what we humans were like. In fact, none of the other aliens they abducted that were intelligent were understood by them. The language barrier definitely hurt their teaching. \n\nI slowly began to trust them, and over the years, we taught each other languages from our homes. Mines of course, was one of many. Ironically, theirs too, were one of many. I was surprised I was able to even teach them jack shit considering the teachers at the orphanage did poorly at explaining English composition, language and vocabulary.\n\nThey took me to this massive complex that encircled the star. It was a sci-fi fan's wet dream come true. It was a ringworld, like that of Larry Niven's novel. Space traffic was absolutely dense. Given the distance the ring went around the star, I found it absolutely nauseating contemplating the number of beings that were on and off that ring. Their only protection from the sun were these grey colored, titanic looking boxes with solar panel like constructions that faced the sun. They acted as the ring's moons. To my surprise, they told me the ring wasn't complete yet. It was still in the process of being finished and only had about forty more years roughly. Their inspiration? Larry Niven. My surprise how the inspiration they got was from an underdeveloped world to their standards. This was in construction since the seventies! Well, by our time standards anyways. They were about to go bankrupt from such an enormous task that they decided to populate the finish ring sections until the rest were finished. The population count was about one trillion.\n\nI joined a company that dealt in a substance known as Villites. They were an edible substance that were known to unlock psionic nodes in the brain and allow psychokinetic abilities to happen. Studying physics with my captors though, I realized that Villites were a strange byproduct of quantum mechanics. To humans, this would be considered pseudoscience. However, our understanding of the universe was severely limited based upon old laws and studies that had cemented itself within its scientific community. It prevented a lot of abstract thinking among scientists. The aliens were helpful in my studies of Villites. I went to their planet of origins, X'la'khah, as I liked to call it: Fertile Sands, during a business expedition. Several months of constant surveillance showed incredible amounts of energy emitting from the Villites. What we couldn't explain was how Villites gained physical edible form. The density of the atoms clustered together? The chemical compounds that fused with Hydrogen to create such a complex mess? I was no physics genius so all I had were theories.\n\nMy rise to fame and fortune came when I started to utilize Villites as a method of space travel. The substance within, when processed and burned as fuel, creates a field around the ship that pierces through spacetime, allowing a much faster method of travel across the stars without having to worry about time dilation. I never could understand the how of that, but it made the aliens' old methods of space travel obsolete.\n\nVillites were very common and abundant substances on the planet it hailed from, which made sure the business opportunities for rivaling corporations did not damage their income due to competition. The locals were of course, pissed at me for causing another Villites Rush. I felt bad honestly. Knowing how the aliens and the corporations that operate do not have the same ethical standards and compliance of natives as modern day human corporations do. \n\nBy twenty seven, I had became the first and only young extra-terrestrial being in the galaxy to hit the hallmark of economics. I was the richest man in the galaxy and that was no exaggeration. I founded Villites Star Flights, the transportation company for goods and passengers. I founded the RnD department for Villites studies. I even established the first corporate council on Fertile Sands, establishing a cooperative corporate union. How quickly did I forget that aliens were not better than humans.\n\n\nIt was Friday. I looked up at the calendar I had fashioned for my home. Though I was not sure if they were accurate on this Ringworld. The Tu-kul-uh helped me get a good sense of the years by comparing the numbers back on Earth to the numbers here. Earth wasn't ready to join the galactic community, at least not yet. But that didn't mean I can get some use out of it one way or another.\n\nI was splayed out on my bed, half naked. Never would I imagine, growing up, that I would become a xenophile. The odd and unusual, the disturbing used to creep me out as a teenager. I slowly became fascinated by them. I found attraction, intrigue, and intimacy; even among species that weren't gendered, or multi-gendered where some may or may not be compatible with me. Well, there was Vvrith and her sister Shhiah. They were both an exception. I felt like I was king of the goddamn world. \n\nI learned to deal with their snake like skin brushing against me the wrong way. (I just had to deal with them the right way.) I held onto them as they nestled close against me for warmth. I couldn't stay asleep as their scales rubbed on me the wrong way... and they were rubbing against my hips. Adorable as they were, it just pained me to no end. Their cool wet snouts brushed against my neck, further stirring me from my sleep. I guess I should be thankful for I did have a meeting to go to. \n\nI was saved by Thal, a hovering robotic assistant unit that was more or less, my butler. I kept his self-awareness as a secret from my peers as I grew too attached to him. You can say he was my only friend in the business department. \n\n\"Mr. Jake,\" he spoke, \"Oh you are awake. Good! Kk'lla'khh has need of you in your office. The meeting is cancelled. Something came up.\"\n\nI lifted my head up and looked at the robot in confusion. I caressed the two reptilian aliens awake so I could get myself ready. \"mmhhh what? The meeting is cancelled?\" I asked with a yawn. \"What happened?\"\n\n\"He said he wants to talk to only you about it. I assume it must be serious for such an important collusion of business minds to cancel their meeting.\"\n\n\"I'll see what Kk'lla has to say then.\" I got up and finally, free of my companions, made my way to the washer. \n\n..."
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[WP] You look back and can now identify all the warnings signs. Of COURSE your significant other was going to leave you at the alter.
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"I ignored it because part of me knew it's what she wanted. Even though I knew it would hurt me, I still wanted her to be happy, how does it go.... ignorance is bliss? Well we were in bliss. \n\nThe wedding was suppose to be magical, a day I remebered forever, that we told our children about, grandchildren, friends, strangers. A magical moment in our lives when two people found each other, laughed, cried, yelled, screamed, smiled and just loved, then brought it all together on this day to unite and be one. \n\nBut she had her demons and looking back maybe I should have spoke up sooner and confronted her with it. But god damn, I loved her and I didn't want it to end, I wanted to hold on to it for as long as possible. \n\nThe signs were there though. I guess I first noticed them not to long after I proposed. We had been together before that 5 years. Then 2 months into our engagement she seemed to change. It was the small things at first, not holding each other as much, her being so tired and just wanting to sleep. I was so scared of losing her though I gave her a bit more space. Maybe that was a mistake. \n\nThe signs got larger and bigger though. She would have business trips in the middle of the week with only short notice. She changed her diet because Steve at work told her how amazing it felt after he switched to it (I can't even remember what it was now it seems so silly). \n\nShe also started changing her appearance getting thinner, saying she just wanted to make sure she fit perfectly into her wedding dress. \n\nThen there were the phonecalls. They were always whispered and she always seemed guilty when I walked in on her. She would just say it's secret womans business for the wedding. \n\nThen there was the crying. She cried a lot more. Sometimes I comforted asking what was wrong. She just said she felt emotional lately because of the wedding and stress. \n\nOther times though I didn't comfort her. I would go out to my shed and cry as well. I still loved her though, but I didn't want to seem week in front of her. I still loved her so so much. \n\nSo I stood there at the alter. Alone. I knew she wasn't coming even before her maid of honor came running up to me. I knew in my heart that for her not to be here by now, she wouldn't be coming at all. \n\nThe ambulance arrived quickly and rushed her away. I should have been in there with her but I didn't want to get in the paramedics way. I found out later that was the right choice as her heart stopped for over a minute before they brought her back. \n\nThe doctor told me she doesn't have much time left. The cancer was to far spread and the stress on her body from the disease caused the heart attack. \n\nI sat by her bed as she lay there unconscious. I held her hand. \n\nThere were so many signs, but the loved we had meant we didn't always need to tell each other everything with words. The bloodied tissues in the bathroom. The letters with a hospital emblem she would hide away. The loss of energy. Even spending a lot more time with Steve, his cancer had been in remission for over 2 years now. \n\nSarah didn't want me to know though. Not because she didn't think I could handle it, or because she was to scared. But because she knew she was going to die and before that time she wanted to live, she wanted to be herself for as long as possible. The cancer was going to beat her body, but it was never going to beat her spirit or mind. \n\nStill though. I cried, I cried so fucking much. \n\n\"I'm sorry\" \n\nHer words tore me back. I looked into her tear filled eyes as she held my hand and looked into my eyes. \n\n\"I'm so sorry I never told you, I really thought I could hold on till after the wedding.\" \n\n\"You never have to apologize to me, I knew, I always knew. I never stopped loving you and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you more, I didn't do more, I....\" \n\nWe held each other for a long time. \n\nSarah left me at the alter that day. The next day though the hospital priest married us in her room. \n\nSarah died two days later as I held her in my arms. \n\nShe left me at the alter but married me the next day. Then she left me again. I never for one moment though stopped loving her. \n\n \n\n"
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[WP] You are transferred to a dimension where every person is represented as a thread that is intertwined with other threads. You decide to tamper with some of them.
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"It was wrong. I knew it in my heart, my soul. It was selfish, above all.\nIt, however, was what I wanted.\n\nHis thread glittered, a soft gold, intertwined with three others. A burgundy, a deep emerald, and finally, a silver. My own. All three led away, leaving his thread continuing alone into a dark tunnel.\n\nI talked myself into it. I didn't want him to be alone. It was the right, the compassionate thing to do.\n\nI lifted my own, sparking suddenly when I touched it, and wove it into his. Over, under, in-between. We were no longer alone. He would be with me, forever."
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[WP] A classic murder mystery, except all the protagonists are completely stupid.
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"Jill woke up next to the couch, soaked in blood. Staring in horror at her shaking, red hands, she could hardly scream. The wheezing that squeezed from her throat was just loud enough to wake Samantha who was sleeping above her on the couch. \n\n\"Oh my god, Jill, what the fuck?\" Samantha squealed, swiftly on her feet.\n\n\"I don't know. I don't know.\" Jill gasped. \n\n\"Where's Katey?\" Sam asked looking around at the aftermath of what was a fairly good party. \n\n\"Ewwwww\" Jill cried. \"I have to wash this off.\"\n\nGreg walked around the corner already fully dressed and ready to head home. \"Holy shit, who died in here?\" He joked, looking at the red pool next to the couch. \n\n\"Dude, have you seen Katey?\" Sam asked.\n\n\"No, as soon as they started bitching I found a bed upstairs and called it a night.\" Greg said. \n\nSam tried to remember a bitching fit, but she drew a blank. \"Who, Jill and Katey?\"\n\n\"Yeah, they pretty much ruined the party.\"\n\nThe hair stood on the back of Samantha's neck.\n\n\"Dude, do you think Jill hurt Katey?\" Sam asked. \n\nGreg shook his head dismissively. \"Jill couldn't hurt a fly. I've seen her try.\"\n\n\"So where the fuck is Katey?\" Sam whispered urgently. \"And why is Jill covered in blood?\"\n\n\"Woah, she's covered in blood?\" Greg was now concerned. \n\nSam pointed at the huge stain on the floor. \"Uh, *yeah!*\" She exhaled with a whole lot of attitude. \n\n\"I didn't fucking kill anyone, Jesus Christ.\" Jill shouted from the bathroom just around the corner. \n\n\"My name is SAMANTHA.\" Sam yelled in frustration. \n\n\"I know that, stupid.\" Jill said as she dried off her arms which were still slightly pink.\n\n\"Thanks.\" Greg said as he hung up the phone. \"The police are on the way.\"\n\n\"Oh my god! You idiot!\" Jill shouted. \"I can't go to prison.\" \n\n\"Did you kill Katey?\" Greg asked.\n\n\"No! Of course not.\"Jill shouted defiantly. \n\n\"Then why are you covered in her blood?\" Sam asked with her hands on her hips? \n\n\"How do you know it's *her* blood?\" Jill snarked. \n\n\"Oh my god, who else did you kill?\" Sam asked while covering her mouth with her fingers. \n\n\"Oh my god.\" Jill barked. \n\nThe trio continued to argue chaotically for half an hour before Sam realized \"The police aren't here yet?\"\n\nGreg's phone rang loudly, which was weird because his ringer was off. Someone calling themselves \"Emergency Call Back\". He let it go to voicemail. \n\n\"What if that was the killer?\" Sam asked. \n\nGreg's phone chirped, indicating that the caller left a voicemail. He slowly raised his phone and pressed the play button. \n\n*\"This is the police, we are at your address, if you're home please come to the door.\"*\n\n\"They're here.\" Greg said. \n\nBoth Jill and Sam screamed in terror, running up the stairs, cornering themselves. \n\n\"No, dummies, the cops!\" Greg shouted as he opened the door. \n\nThe girls peaked from the top of the stairs as Greg walked outside. He returned a moment later, perplexed. \n\n\"No one there. Oh my god, it *was* the killer.\" Greg said as he ran up the stairs to join the girls. \n\nSamantha's phone rang, and when she looked at it she noticed the name \"Katey\" on the screen. \"Oh my god you guys, the killer has her phone.\" \n\n\"Answer it!\" Jill shouted. \n\n\"I -- can't.\" Samantha blurted, tossing the phone to Greg. \n\nGreg answered it on speaker, \"What did you do to our friend you bastard?! \" \n\n\"*Sam? Hello? What's going on?*\" It was Katey's voice.\n\n\"Katey? Oh my god what has he done to you?\" Sam sobbed. \n\n\"*Who?*\" \n\n\"The killer!\" The three of them shouted in unison. \n\n\"*What killer? What the hell is going on?*\"\n\n\"Jill woke up covered in blood.\" Sam started. \"After your fight last night we figured Jill murdered you, but then she said she killed someone else, and Greg called the cops who never showed up. \n\n\"*Oh my god, you idiots.*\"\n\nKatey would explain that the red stuff all over Jill was grenadine that she spilled all over herself because she was too drunk to get it in her mouth. \n\nWhen Greg got home the police told him that they don't mind doing welfare checks, but they need to be given the correct address. \n\nJill cried for 48 hours because she thought her arms were going to be pink for the rest of her life. \n\nSam was still not convinced that Jill was innocent "
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Too late for the holidays, I know.
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[WP] While going through his usual list of letters, Santa discovers a ransom letter from a naughty list regular, with an elf's severed finger.
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"The letter has a flowing, friendly script. The hand is practised and steady. The parchment smells of peppermint. \n\n‘Dear Susie,\n\nIt is very rare that a letter passes my desk that calls for me to set quill to paper personally. But you are such a special little girl that I just had to set aside time even during this busy period to reply. \n\nYou are such an inquisitive child, so full of yearning to understand the multitudinous facets of this situation and on so many varied topics. Ethics, business logistics, anatomy, and Christmas traditions. I would almost have said that such a mind would be destined for great things. Almost. \n\nYou have, precious individual that you are, provided me with a fine diversion. Usually children do not ask so many questions of me and the ones they ask do not get answered directly but on Christmas Day when they run joyously to the tree and discover if the answer to ‘can I please have...’ is yes or no. But your questions deserve direct answers and so here they are, in order. \n\nCertainly, Susie, the life of one of my workers is worth more to me than a brand new gaming console and, what was your charming phrase? ‘A wide selection of the dankest new games.’ Indeed, for such a loyal and diligent employee as Treacle Bane, 10 such devices could barely begin to equal the value I place on my colleagues. I appreciate, too, the inclusion of those links to YouTube reviewers to aid ‘an old fart’ such as myself from not ‘botching the selection like a senile old pustule’. Such forethought and consideration almost belies the behaviour that has earned your placement on my behavioural index over the past years. I feel, with a little more guidance, we could have found the good little girl inside you. Indeed I still hold hope. \n\nAs to your business suggestions, you are correct. Procurement of such a device and the games would not be difficult. Our workshops are extensive in scope and much expanded since the old days. You are also correct that the items I provide would not be, in the strictest sense, the genuine article. Did you know that Treacle Bane is one of our lead programmers? He can duplicate any code he sees. Such a talent. I have many such valuable talents in my employ who work with electronics, design, and quality control, ensuring that the product you receive is wholly indistinguishable from the store bought item and certainly enough to garner whatever classmates approval you desire so greatly as to send you onto this path. We could even alter the programming to make the system backwards compatible with any old game from the same system. Though I sense nostalgia and sentimentality are not highly prized by you. \n\nAs to anatomy, again you are, at least broadly, correct. Though I would not, personally, take my medical knowledge from action movies you did indeed notice that Treacle Bane bled and, in this case, if it does bleed then you can, in fact, kill it. Despite certain properties of longevity and a sort of agelessness, elves do suffer injury, as you have seen first hand. Enough such injuries in, as you surmised, roughly the usual places, will have, roughly, the usual effect. There is a slight realignment when it comes to the heart and the spleen, but these are not details we need to get into here.\n\nAs an aside, I want to thank you for choosing Treacle Bane’s ring finger. It made identification easier. You did not go the other traditional route and send an ear. For this, again, I am grateful. If, as I am sure is all our hopes, Treacle Bane survives this the social stigma of a missing ear would be a further, wholly unnecessary, burden from this experience. His wife was pleased at the return of his wedding ring with the finger as well. Should the worst happen she will be glad to have it as a reminder of him. We will decide between the two of us what to tell his three children but that is a matter for after our business, dear Susie, is resolved. \n\nFinally, I was very impressed with research you put into this endeavour. Few people these days know of the Krampus, I mean truly know. There are those movies but they get it so wrong. He was never my enemy but truly an assistant whose role was nearly as important as mine. I see you have grasped this idea firmly. And your research is astounding. I did not know such knowledge of his weaknesses and tactics were even available outside this complex. There presence, in fact, raises some questions. I suspect Blossom Garter. She’s never been one to let false information stand and I recall seeing her on /r/krampus on more than one occasion. \n\nI, unfortunately, must inform you that your time on that particular project has been wasted. The Krampus is no longer with the company. Not in his original capacity. I’m surprised, clear thinker that you are, you hadn’t realised this. For surely you are aware that you would have earned a visitation from him by now. If not in previous years, certainly after last year and incident with the dog. But we do not do such things any more. Our research showing the lack of positive improvement to corporal punishment, even when administered by demonic visaged creatures wielding birch canes, had us put the project to rest long before corporal punishment fell out of favour in most Western households. As for the eating of certain children, well that never quite sat correctly with me. Though I have long punished the wicked it has always been with the hope of rehabilitation. I have found many children who make it into the negative sector of my behavioural index do so without ever being truly told that their behaviour is incorrect. A lump of coal is often a clear message to most, most my unique Susie, children that reform is needed.\n\nSo you may be relieved, or perhaps, disappointed to learn that I will not be sending the Krampus after you this night. He comes around the workshop sometimes. Extra pair of hands in the busy period and very good at keeping the feral reindeer numbers down. He was very eager to come out retirement for you, Susie, but that is not our way anymore. \n\nSo we come to this. It is my fondest desire that you may read this letter and feel I have answered all your questions. If this is this case, and even if it is not, I pray you will indulge a question of my own. \n\nDearest, precious, Susie whose innocence I fear is lost but whose naivety still gives me hope, how did you think this was truly going to go down?\n\nI know where you live, little one. I can enter at anytime and there is no way to prevent it. It is, as I feel you should have understood, the crux of what I do. The Krampus is gone because we do not need his services on masse anymore. And when such skills are needed, I am more than capable. I have been called elf, child, but it is an honorific from my colleagues. It makes them feel safer to think me one of them, part of their clan. And I allow it, for safe they are with me. Or so we believed, dear Susie, until your letter arrived. \n\nMy power is older than theirs and not born of such impermanent things as woods and seasons and the dust beneath your feet. I am the Justice that lived in the stars themselves. And, though you will not get the chance to test this, I do not bleed at loyal Treacle Bane has bled.\n\nFinish reading, my little one. Complete what you have started and I will do the same. Finish to the last word as you sit, so terribly alone in your cheerful, pink room. Listen one last time to your favourite song. I waited so that you might hear it once more. Enjoy its sparkling melody. Please do, oh tiny child. \n\nBut do not reach for that blade in the top desk drawer or the herbs you procured to guard against the one you thought was coming. Neither will assist you.\n\nInstead, keep reading. Do not look up. Do not turn around. Do not scream. You no longer have the time. \n\nI have the time, Susie. I have so much time. And do not worry, as I can tell you are worrying from that sudden hunch in your shoulders. I did not lie to you about my absolute belief in rehabilitation.\n\nI have so much time, our workshops are extensive and full of so many tools. I am quite convinced that I will find the good little girl inside you. \n\nFROM THE DESK OF SANTA CLAUS\nSANTA’S WORKSHOP\nC/O NORTH POLE\n\nHO HO HO’\n\nThe signature that follows is flowing and friendly. The hand is practised and steady. "
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[WP] People only see colors after the first time they cried.
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"I was never much of a crier. As a baby, I was 'bout the quietest thing on Earth, b'sides a mouse or somethin'. And growin' up, my parents taught me to laugh when I fell or got hurt. Besides, most of it would heal up just fine. \n\nAnd when the other kids in school would pick on me on account of bein' so quiet and all, well, I didn't cry. A quick bop in the face shut 'em up real quick.\n\nNo sir, I never did cry much. Not that my parents discouraged it or nothin', but I just wasn't that type. Nature versus nurture, I guess.\n\nFor twenty-five years, I never felt a tear roll down my cheek, never felt that hiccuping sensation you get when you cry real hard, or been out of breath and gasping for air. That means for twenty-five years I never saw a damn thing. Everythin' was black and white, or somewhere in between as a shade of gray. I never knew what a blue sky was, or a red rose. Hell, I didn't even know what color my own skin was.\n\nUntil that day on the aisle. I was standing there next to the pastor, all dressed-up in my black tux, my best friend standing next to me as my best man. When I saw her walkin' down that aisle, escorted by my father, that was the first time I ever felt a moistness in my eyes.\n\nThen when she stood, right in front of me, all pretty in her white wedding dress. And she said her vows and all, and I said mine, and then we kissed to seal it all off. I closed my eyes when we did it, but that didn't stop the tears from rolling down my face for the first time.\n\nAnd when I opened my eyes again, I really saw her. For the first time in my life, I'd seen color, and I saw it on her. Instead of black and white, it was somethin' else, and it was somethin' that was indescribable. You don't know unless you lived most of your life seein' nothing but gray, but then you open your eyes, and you see the love of your life splashed with color, something so bright and vibrant that it made your eyes hurt.\n\nI couldn't even name all the colors back then, but lookin' back, I guess I sort of can now. Her bright yellow hair, a subtle red in her cheeks with pink lips. But her eyes, her bright, green eyes... That really stood out to me.\n\nWhen I could finally see color, she turned out to be more beautiful that I could have ever imagined.\n\n---\n\nIt was a bit of a weak ending because I couldn't figure out how to end it strong, but it works well enough I guess. CC is always appreciated!"
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[WP] All of the “bad guys” that kids have fought off for years turn out to not be make-believe. Now, due to most children trading their swords, bows and guns for tablets and phones, the bad guys are pushing back.
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"A man laughing evilly sits at a computer where his face should be is an inky void. He begins to speak up as more identical copy's of himself appear from the darkness of the corner of the room. They were the people the children always caught and then fought to keep humanity safe. Now without the children fighting them they are free to do what they want. The evil laughter grows as the one at the computer hits send and suddenly a message is sent into cyber space. The message was one that many people would hate for generations to come...\n\n\n\"Make your **** in just 1 week click here\""
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[WP]planeload of news anchors crashing into the mountains, discovering their plane carried monkeys and martial arts equipment, and resulted in a battle between cannibalistic newsmen and star-throwing monkeys.
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"\"How do I look? What? Blood on my what? Oh, shit, I forgot about that. Yeah, well, we can just say my shirt was dirty. Ate ribs for lunch or something. I dunno. Let's just roll and we'll edit it out in post.\n\n\"Good evening. I'm Donna Johnson, Channel 5 Action News, here in the Himalayas -- yes, *the* Himalayas -- deep in the thick of an incredible situation. Two weeks ago, our plane crash-landed here and the situation has been, well, a bit tense ever since. You see, the cargo hold was loaded with *highly proficient martial artist primates*, that's right -- *ninja monkeys* -- and we've been fighting for our life ever since.\n\n\"Now, as you can imagine, the ninja monkeys are masters of the shadows, champions of the unseen, and so it took us awhile before we fully understood what we were up against. I imagine many of you at home will likely judge those of us on the Channel 5 Action News team who still remain. After the crash, we had to go to extreme measures. We had hoped the cargo hold was full of food and water so that we might survive until help arrived, but alas, it was instead full of ninja monkeys and so we had few options left as far as cuisine went.\n\n\"Brenda Matley, yes, *the* Brenda Matley of Channel 5 Action News was the first to go. Both of her legs were broken in the crash, and unfortunately we're all newscasters, not doctors, and so she had little hope of recovering in such a harsh environment. On day 3 we decided to 'go all Donner Party on her ass', as Channel 5 Action News's own Frank Finley put it. And while we did it out of necessity, I have to say, Brenda was quite delicious.\n\n\"The ninja monkeys didn't manifest until the 5th day. Those of you at home may be wondering, why did they wait until day 5 to manifest? And I should reiterate, they are masters of the shadows, champions of the unseen. These monkeys are adept at all forms of martial combat, including, but not limited to, the nunchaku and shuriken. Their training surpasses anything imaginable, and they are fine-tuned killing machines. Our only option is to fight back.\n\n\"So sure, I'm willing to play devil's advocate here and admit that we didn't see any nunchucks sitting around in the snow after the plane crash. We didn't see any monkey prints leading away from that terrible scene. But I think it's a little naive to assume that such masterful primates would leave any signs behind. We know what they are. And we will prevail over them.\n\n\"On day 7, Channel 5 Action News co-anchor Brandon Bryce and that floozy of a field reporter, Ann Abramson, fled from the camp, hoping perhaps to find the ninja monkeys for themselves so that they might reap the bounty that those crafty primates surely hid from us. On day 8, we ate Frank Finley.\n\n\"We are close, very close now, to winning this battle against the ninja monkeys. Their resolve is strong and their wit is unparalleled, but we shall persevere. There are rumors among those few of us who survive that the ninja monkeys likely have some secret technology capable of contacting the outside world and bringing the rescue parties to us. And the thought of a large group of rescuers, their hearts pumping strong beneath their fur coats, their muscles strong and meaty and delicio -- ahem, well the thought of such folks coming to us, it certainly motivates us to push on and fight back against the monkey threat. Because of the rescue, of course. Because we want to be rescued.\n\n\"As you can see from atop this ridge, there is smoke coming from down in this valley. That is likely from the ninja monkeys' fire magic. The single tent down below is all that remains of the ninja monkeys' forces. We are close now. *So* close. No, stop, don't zoom in -- *don't* zoom in. Ha... ah-ha-ha-ha. For those of you watching at home, you'll likely think to yourself, 'that looks like Channel 5 Actions News's very own Brandon Bryce and Ann Abramson in the valley below.' But as I said, the ninja monkeys are masters of shadows, champions of the unseen, and experts in the art of disguise. You see, those dastardly monkeys have made themselves look like our friends, but we know their game by now. And that game ends today.\n\n\"Are you ready? Yeah? No, yeah, bring both knives. We'll need them. OK. Put the camera down. *Put the camera down*. OK, let's do this. Time for dinner.\"\n\n"
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[WP] "It's been a month since the accident and I still barely have any control!"
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"\"Alright, just calm dow--\" before the sentence could even be completed a sporadic fire bolt shot from my right hand, my left hand had turned to a solid block of ice in the same moment, but I was left unaffected by the extreme temperatures. \"I can't control it! And these scientists don't want to help me either!\" my body burst into flames, something that rarely happened but was expected, not long after fire extinguishers took out the flames.\n\n\"Alright, now, just focus, try to... Think of something hot?\"\n\n\"Do I need to burn your face off? That's not how this works\"\n\nI calmed down by this point, but I was just frustrated, no one knew how my abilities worked, neither did I, but they felt, in some way, controlled\n\n\"Look, I can't control these abilities, and this tungsten room doesn't exactly help with giving me a calm environment to focus in\"\n\n\"We already told you this, we can't set you loose\"\n\n\"Not even in the desert? I've been in here for a month, I *need* some fresh air, please\"\n\n\"I-- I'll see what I can do\"\n\nI discovered a new ability as he left, I could turn into a 'cloud' of either flames or ice, not of my choice obviously, since I haven't learned to control it yet. But the door was *open*, and I was probably at my fastest and hardest to catch, so I took the opportunity, I flew past everything, burning everything with a foot of me to a crisp.\n\nBefore I knew it the entire building was on lock down and I turned back into a person, I looked around and the doctor who was just talking to me was taking his clothes off since they were on fire, I didn't even make it 5 feet from the room. But I couldn't stop now, I had to keep going. Well, I did try to escape, until the week of not eating caught up to me.\n\nWith these abilities they slowed my metabolism or something, making me need to consume less food but still allowing me an insane energy output, even sleep is something I can go without for a few days, but I just can't control the fire or ice. With everyone in a shock, I took the opportunity to limp my way to the mess hall to get something to eat.\n\nWhen I got there it was already evacuated, which was either a really good sign, or a really, *really*, bad sign. No sooner than when I got to the kitchen area a team armed with machine guns burst through the door, I knew I had to eat *fast*, so I grabbed everything in sight, raw meat that got cooked in my hand, soda cans that froze in my other, anything that I would be able to consume.\n\nBefore long I was filled up, but just as I took a final bite of a 'burger' I threw together, a gas grenade flew threw the opening above me, as it went off I felt myself losing conscientiousness, so I picked myself up and ran, but as soon as I stood up a bullet flew through my shoulder, I heard the soldier get scolded for taking a shot at me.\n\nI eventually made my way to the armory, the soldiers not far behind, but since I had a moment to rest I moved my hand to check my shoulder, and to my surprise it was actually healed, like I'd never been shot, but before I could relish to much on my healing abilities the soldiers broke through the door, pointing guns at me.\n\n\"Don't move!\"\n\n\"Or what? You'll kill a superhuman that you need to continue advanced research? I don't think your superiors will be very happy about that\"\n\nI wasn't sure why I said that, or why it rolled out my mouth so smoothly, but it did. They lowered their guns and at first I thought I was home free. That is, until one of them broke a bat over my head. I woke up in a room where I could test my abilities, a place where I didn't have to worry about burning down walls or anything. It was *amazing*.\n\nAfter a month of letting me test my abilities I became accustomed to the powers, I could tell I was feared because if I broke out now there would be no one to tell the tale, luckily I'm not that kind of person. I was sent to the front lines after another month of training myself, I single handedly won five wars, but as soon as I showed any sign of rebellion I was shocked with what can only be described as a lightning bolt.\n\nI hated them, but I loved my abilities. They eventually tried to kill me once they got what they wanted, 'evolution in a bottle' as they called it, using my blood, they didn't want it to sound like something from a video game but that was the best way they could describe it.\n\nThey dropped my body in the desert, where I wanted to be all along, but I eventually woke up, hungry and with an intense hatred, I trusted them to an extent, but doing that was the last straw. I went to their facility and personally killed everyone involved with my attempted murder. Now I wander the desert, trying my best to avoid getting shot at by military helicopters that are constantly looking for me.\n\nBut it's not all bad, I get good nights rests, and with my flight ability I can just fly to the arctic whenever I want, they still haven't found my ice base there yet",
"I smile up at the doctor as he shows me the results from the scan. My lovely wife Natasha is standing next to me with a worried look on her face.\n\n\"So Mr. Michael, this is where the impact caused some damage. Obviously you have cleared the concussion protocol and don't seem to have any after effects but I would still recommend that you be extra careful. Take a week off, stay at home, rest.\"\n\n\"I assure you doctor that I am feeling just fine. I don't reall....\"\n\n\"Listen to what the doctor says, Rob. I am going to call Rico and tell him you are not coming to work for the next 2 weeks.\"\n\n\"Nats, you are worrying for no reason. I am fine.\"\n\n\"You were unconscious for 3 whole hours. You are decidedly not fine. And I don't intend to let you leave the house and my sight for the next few days.\"\n\n\"OK, OK. If that's what makes you happy.\"\n\n\"You should listen to your wife more Robert. She's a smart lady.\"\n\n****************************\n\nI sputter and spit out some water from my mouth. What the hell? Where am I? I look around but do not recognize this place. I look back at the swimming pool. What was happening? Was someone trying to drown me? I look down and notice that I am wearing swimming trunks. So, I was swimming? But I don't remember getting into the pool. I can't shake the feeling that something is very very wrong here. I need to get out of this place. I need to leave this place and go as far away from here as possible.\n\nLooking around, I find some clothes bunched up in a cupboard. They fit me but I have never owned any such clothes. I quickly wear them and start looking for a way out of this building which I soon realize is a house and a pretty big house at that. Running around the house, it soon becomes apparent that the house is empty. Finally reaching what looks like the front door, I pull the doorknob. Nothing. I try pushing next but again, it won't budge. I am trapped. I am filled with dread. Someone has locked me up in this house. It seems to have all the facilities, except freedom. I need to get out of here.\n\n******************************\n\nNatasha walks in after completing the week's shopping. I must have dozed off on the sofa and am awakened by her coming in to the front door and putting the code in. She once had a bad scare when her apartment got robbed and she is super conscious about security since then. The keypad is very subtly hidden behind a hanging plant.\n\n\"Hey honey, let me help you with those.\"\n\n\"No, Rob. You stay where you are. You need to rest.\"\n\n\"Sweetie, I have been home for 3 days now. And no symptoms. I am perfectly fine.\"\n\n\"But you still need your rest. That was a nasty accident.\"\n\n\"Dude, I am like super bored. Let's go out and get ........\"\n\n***************************\n\nI come to with my body covered completely in sweat. I am holding a towel. After using to to wipe my face, I look around. A Gym? When did I come to a gym. On noticing the space and the machines available, I realize it is a private gym. My mind is telling me that I need to get out of this place. Run away. There is something very wrong here. I run out of the room to try and find my way out. Past a massive swimming pool. It is obvious that this is a house. And it probably belongs to someone very rich. Is that someone holding me hostage here? How did I get here?\n\nI see a door at the other side of the kitchen leading to the outside. Yes! My freedom is just outside of that door. Suddenly I miss a step and find myself falling.\n\n******************************\n\n\"Careful, watch that step.\"\n\n\"Sweetie, we've been living here for 5 years now. You don't have to remind me every time.\"\n\n\"That's a tricky step. No one expects it here. I don't want you to get more damage than you already have.\"\n\n\"More brain damage? More? Why you little...\" I laugh and charge at my wife. It turns into a hug. A long hug. \n\n\"This might me my damaged brain talking. But I love you Nats. This, this right here, this feels just perfect. I want to spend the rest of my life hugging you. I wish I never have to let you out of my arms.\"\n\n**************************\n\nI stop suddenly. Out of breath. I look around confused. What was going on? Had I been running. If so, what from. I hear a woman call out, \"Rob?\"\n\nShe is coming towards me. Was I running from her. I don't know her, but she seems to know my name. My mind is filled with despair. Something weird is going on. I need to get out of here. I need to leave this place. She is moving towards me with a sinister smile on her face. Who is she? And where am I?\n\n\"Who are you? What are you doing to me?\"\n\n\"Rob? What's wrong?\"\n\n\"Get away from me.\" I push her aside and start running. But there is no way out. I am stuck in some sort of a private garden. With fences blocking the way everywhere I look. Then I see it. A house. Maybe, just maybe, there is a way out on the other side. I run toward the door. My lungs feel as if they are about to burst. I am out of breath but my mind knows that I need to get out of this place. However, I miss the garden hose on my way and trip over it.\n\n***************************\n\n\"TGA? What the hell is TGA?\" I ask.\n\n\"Transient Global Amnesia. Extremely rare. Didn't even cross my mind. And the injuries didn't seem to be anywhere in that area of your brain.\"\n\n\"But what now doctor? He didn't recognize me at all and just ran.\" Natasha looks super worried.\n\nI still can't believe that part of her story. How could I forget her? She is the love of my life. The woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. But she insists that everything she said is true and the doctor seems to find it plausible.\n\n\"Now nothing. This is a temporary thing. It will go away on its own. Just make sure you stay with him as much as possible. And keep asking him about the past. To know when he is having an episode.\"\n\n\"An episode? For heaven's sake...\"\n\n\"Shut up Rob. The grown ups are talking. Yes doctor, please continue.\"\n\n\"Have a couple of photographs handy. Typically, a person suffering from TGA will want to travel. Just calm him down and try reminding him of who you are and who he is. Oh, and the most important thing. No physical activity. Most of the time, these episodes are triggered by some extended physical activity.\"\n\n\"Oh great. Now you've given her an excuse to cut off everything I love.\"\n\n\"And I will do it too. I will not let you out of my sight and keep you trapped in our home forever.\"\n\n*****************\n\nTGA is a real thing. I have obviously taken some liberties with the symptoms and the treatment. You can read about it [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transient_global_amnesia)."
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[WP] Your flatmate had has always joked about being a banished Prince from a magical land. You've always joked about him taking you back with him if he's ever able to return. He wakes you early one morning and says "I can finally open a portal back to my homeland. You've got 5 minutes to get ready."
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[
"\"Go Away and Shite\" I Growled into my pillow.\n\nThe hammering on the door changed frequency, now that it had prompted a response.\n\n\"I said shite off, I've a head on me like terrier's tennis ball and I need to sleep it off\", I both moaned and pleaded.\n\nThe tempo and intensity of the hammering on the door increased, like the buildup to the Beat drop composed by a 15 year old with a pirated copy of fruityloops, who knows they are going to be the next... whoever was the next Skrillex after he stopped being cool.\n\nMuch like a shitty club track, there actually was an explosive end to the repetitive thumping. In this case it carried my door across my room and Half-embedded/half shattered into and against the wall.\n\nnot sure if you've ever got a mouthful of chipboard and plasterboard while screaming, with a headache like a forward took a free kick and blasted two marbles up your nose at point blank range, but if not, I don't recommend it; if you have, you have my sympathies.\n\nI sat up in bed to see my housemate, obviously munted on something. Looking at his clothes, I'd have said shrooms, but looking at his face and my ruined bedroom, some sort of designer russian combat drug might be more likely.\n\nBaz down behind the takeway had been getting some weird shite in from His dealers lately. that bag of yokes he sold me last week had me pissing green for 3 days. \n\nI knew I'd have to talk Aslo down.\n\n\"Jesus, calm your tits, Aslo, you've wrecked me bleeding door\"\n\nHe just looked at me, breathing slowly. \n\nhe had those shitty contacts in again, the ones that make it look like he had cat eyes. Said it made him feel like home. I said it made him look like what they told us child molester's looked like, back when we were in school. I decided it was probably not a good time to bring up the topic of sexual assualt. I didnt want to give him ideas.\n\n\"Aslo, You ok, bud? You look a bit ... out of sorts. also you kicked my door in.\"\n\n He didnt respond for a moment, then walked over to the wardrobe in my room and threw the doors open. \n\nNow, either I took something before bed, Aslo had smoked the house out or there was a forest inside my closet. and it was snowing. \n\nI scrambled up out of bed, grabbed my pants, socks and boots and scrambled into the snow after Aslo.\n\n\"Aslo, Am I fucking tripping balls night now or did we walk through a wardrobe into a forest.\"\n\nAslo finally replied, \n\n\"No, Decco, no, You'd had a dozen or so bottles before bed and I've only done a few lines of coke and we have finally found the portal to return me to my true realm, Now together we can finally help me reclaim my birthright and restore the throne to its true king.\"\n \nA far away look crossed his face \"Truely, This is the greatest day in my life, Decco. \"\n\nthere was a moment of a pause as Also seemed to grow taller, to almost become part of the landscape, as if become part of someplace he truly was ment to be.\n\na soft Halo almost seemed to surround his head as he turned to face me.\n\n\"I cant feel my fucking face Decco, I think I'm having a heart attack, Decco. FUCK\".\n\nI dont remember much more, because Aslo turned and punched me before growling like a large cat. \n\nthen I passed out. \n\nI woke up to coats and Aslo's vomit in my Gym bag. ",
"I had moved in six months ago, Tom was my only housemate. He was a nice guy to be around, friendly and talkative, but knew when you needed your space. He was very tidy and the rent was always paid, all in all he was the perfect housemate.\n\nHowever there was something different about him lately, about three months ago he had made a joke about being a prince from a magical land, and he's going to be able to return soon. It was an odd joke but we had been through half a case of beer at this stage, so I just asked him to let me visit and forgot about it.\n\nHowever his behavior has changed somewhat, he had this nervous energy about him, and every day without fail he made that same joke. It was getting old. \n\nOne morning I woke to this odd smell, like that ozone smell after a lightning strike. Tom rushed into my room, his smile almost splitting his face in two, \"quickly we've got five minutes before it closes,\" he exclaimed breathlessly.\n\nStill sleepy I uttered \"what are you talking about.\"He dragged me out of bed into the kitchen. What I saw astounded me. \n\nA large circle of golden light swirled slowly in the centre of the kitchen. A sound, it was singing, so beautiful yet alien, it could not be described emanated from the light. I was transfixed. The light was hypnotizing, almost heavenly in it's appearance. \n\nA hand gently shook my shoulder, Tom whispered quietly, \"come with me friend, you have been my friend in this alien land, let me show you the wonders of my world\" I shook my head in disbelief, my face was wet, I hadn't realized I was crying. \n\n\"J-just let me grab my coat,\" I managed to whisper. I ran to my room and put it on, just remembering to plug out my phone charger before I left. For some reason I found that hilarious and started laughing, the mundane mixed with the surreal. \n\nI returned to the portal, nervous, so many thoughts bouncing around my head, but the sight of that golden light calmed my head. I walked to within an inch of the light and paused. Then I felt a push from behind and the light enveloped me. Golden light surrounded me, becoming vapor like, spinning around me faster, the beautiful singing sped up, I closed my eyes.\n\nTom's voice rang out, \"sorry about that push but we were running out of time.\" I opened my eyes, we were on a balcony overlooking a beautiful city of graceful spires and ornate arches. An almost deafening cheer erupted from below, a huge crowd had gathered, cries of \"the prince has returned\" echoed. Tom smiled and shouted down \"let the celebrations begin\" The cheers magnified tenfold. \"Come\" he said to me, \"let me show you the hospitality of my people.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n",
"“There he is, the king of the fairies, owner of half of the galaxy but just can’t seem to pay his rent on time, John Fucking Doe!” I rolled my eyes as he came through the front door.\n\n“I’m not the king, that’s my father, and I’ve told you to call me Galvan. John is just the name they gave me in the hospital.” he replied earnestly as he opened the fridge and pulled out a tub of strawberry yogurt.\n\n“Whatever Gilligan, next time clean your royal pubes out of the bathtub before you leave. I’m sick of cleaning up your shit. I’m not your servant.” I scoffed at him, “By the way, your mother called.”\n\nIn a frenzy, he dropped the yogurt on the kitchen floor, whirled around and came rushing towards me. “My mother!” he cried, clutching at my shirt collar, “What did she say?!” He pleaded.\n\n“Get the fuck off of me you freak!” I screamed as I pushed his face and hands away from me. “She said she’d be here at four and to bring a clean towel, whatever that means.”\n\nJohn’s face lit up. He was smiling so brightly, he hardly seemed like the same person. “Oh thank Vaneesh! She finally found me! Seven years I’ve been trapped on this shithole planet surrounded by earthling scum! I was beginning to give up all hope of being rescued! I thought I was going to die here alone with these peasants!” He fell to his knees and rocked slowly back and forth hugging himself. “The first thing I’ll do is eat a giant narkeenu. I’ve been so hungry for so long...” he began to mumble and trail off.\n\nI rolled my eyes and muttered, “Figures you’d be a mama’s boy.” I pointed at the yogurt on the floor and growled, “I’m not cleaning that up, and if it’s still there when I get back from work I’m finding a replacement roommate on Craigslist. I couldn’t possibly do worse than you.” I sneered as I headed for the door.\n\nHe suddenly snapped out of his daze, looked up at me and shouted, “Wait! What time is it?!”\n\nI glanced down at my watch. “It’s 3:55 and I’m late.” I turned back around to go as I felt his hands on my shoulders.\n\n“3:55! Oh no! Oh my, no no! You’re not going to work! You’re coming with me!” He shouted as he grabbed my arm and started pulling me towards the living room. “We’ve only got five minutes to pack, and believe me, mother is never late.”\n\nI ripped my arm back out of his grasp annoyed. “Listen, Prince Looney Tunes, I really don’t have time for this shit right now. Some of us actually have to work for a living, and if I’m late again, I’ll get written up. Besides, this is too much, even for you.”\n\nHe grabbed my arm and looked intensely into my eyes, “I know you think that I’m crazy, but give me five minutes and you’ll never have to work again.”\n\nI stared back at him with disdain, “As usual, you’re out of your mind, John. You really need to get some help.”\n\n“Do this for me and I promise that I’ll never ask you for anything else ever again. You’re the only friend that I have.” he pleaded looking up at me.\n\nI sighed loudly. “Alright. Five minutes. What do you want?”\n\n“Yay!” he cried as he sprang up and grabbed both of my shoulders beaming, “You won’t regret this!” Then he spun around and grabbed a backpack from next to the couch. He started grabbing random objects from around the room and shoving them into the bag, racing around in panicked circles. “You have five minutes, well probably only three or four by now, to grab anything from here that you can carry.”\n\n“Ugh. This is going to be such a pain to clean up later. Do you this it’s easy organizing all of this stuff? I know you think that this is a shithole, but it’s mine, and I like it to be clean.” I muttered disapprovingly.\n\n“I don’t think that you understand. We’re not coming back here. You don’t have to worry about any of this later.” He grabbed another bag from beside the couch and threw it at me. “Put anything you ever want to see again into that bag. Anything that matters to you, right now.”\n\nI left the bag and walked into my bedroom still unsure of why I was even playing along with John’s delusions. It was an interesting thought though. What really matters to me? What if this house was on fire? What would I take? What did I really care about?\n\nI walked over to my dresser and opened the top drawer. I reached inside and pulled out a picture of my parents. They were only about my age now when it was taken. They looked so free and careless, hugging each other on a windswept beach. It was always my favorite picture of them, and now it was one of the only ones that I had left. I shoved it into my pocket.\n\nI reached back out into the drawer and picked up two golden wedding rings. His and hers matching promises of love that also belonged to my parents. I was holding them thoughtfully in my hand when suddenly an incomprehensibly bright light beamed in through the bedroom windows. It was accompanied by an ear-shattering whirring sound unlike anything I’d ever heard before. I squinted my eyes open. The blinds were pulled down and closed, but the light was so bright that the tiny bits of it that escaped inside through the cracks were blinding. I stumbled back holding my arms in front of my eyes and ears still clutching the rings in my hand and mumbled, “What the...”\n\nJust then I felt familiar hands on my shoulders again and John shouting, “They’re here! Are you ready?!”\n\nI could barely hear him over the whirring sound. I looked down at his childlike face, glowing with excitement. He had the backpack slung over one shoulder and had a green towel draped over each arm. Somehow his unbroken excitement and confidence seemed to overcome my fear and confusion, and I began to smile too. I put my hand on his shoulder and we stood there for a moment smiling at each other, him looking even more pleased to see that he’d finally broken me. He stared into my eyes and handed me a towel with a silent nod. I shoved the rings into my pocket, grabbed the towel and said, “Okay, Prince Galvin, let’s go.”\n",
"\"I can finally open a portal back to my homeland. Youve got 5 minutes to get ready.\"\n\nI jumped and sat up in bed, my heart thumping wildly. There was a sillouette standing in the door doorway. Adam.\n\n\"What the actual fuck Adam? You scared me.\"\n\n\"Seriously pack your bag we're going. The King says I'm allowed back, he sent me a message via the portal. Just pack a bag and be by the door in 5.\"\n\nI'd suspected something was up, Adam had seemed more distracted recently. But this was a bit extreme. I had finals next Wednesday.\n\nAdam's sillouette moved from the doorway and I heard his footsteps walking quickly down the hall. I got out of bed and rubbed my eyes. I grabbed my thankfully prepacked overnight bag and found some clean looking jeans and a shirt to put on for now. Should probably go into this looking smart.\n\nI poked my head into his room but he wasn't there. It was a complete mess, like someone had rifled through the entire thing.\n\nAdam was stood barefoot on the inside doormat with a radio in one hand. I walked cautiously down the stairs.\n\n\"Where's the portal then? What does it look like?\" I asked hesitantly. \n\n\"It's about a mile away. You'll have to drive. No shoes though, Grace. No shoes.\"\n\nI thought about waking our other flatmates but decided against it. This could be our adventure.\n\n\"Alright, lead the way!\"\n\nWe climbed in the car and I put the overnight bag in the boot. Adam excitedly gave me directions and produced a hand drawn map. I nodded distractedly trying to wake up properly. Why did it have to be at 3am? I took the map and set off.\n\nHe looked happier than I'd ever seen him. Bright eyes, talking non-stop.\n\nAbout 10 minutes later I handed Adam the map and asked him to double check the address. While he wasn't looking, I pulled into a car park and texted the emergency number I had saved. \n\nA man in a white coat tapped on the window exactly three minutes later. I wound it down on Adam's side.\n\n\"Hello again Adam. I guess you'll be staying with us for a while then?\"\n\nAdam looked at me wide eyed, mouth open.\n\n\"How could you bring me back here?\" He asked. He thought I'd betrayed him.\n\nMaybe I had. But wasn't it for his own good?\n\nEdit: Very bad autocorrect issues",
"Still new to this, so I appreciate any feedback. Thank you to those who take the time to read it! **EDIT** This ended up being more of the background, still working on the actual portal part.\n\n--------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nRich had always been strange. His physical features were littered with inconstancies that should have made him off-putting to look at. His eyes didn't match, pale blue and brown. His nose didn't stick straight out but crooked to the left. One ear was larger than the other. His height seemed to vary. Not a great deal, but one was never certain if they were dealing with a man who was just short of average, or just taller than. His hair also had multiple tones of color in it. As far as his roommate, James, could tell Rich didn't dye it. James swore that it would also change depending on the light. They had gone to a club and Rich's usually brown hair, with touches of red, suddenly seemed to take on a bit of purple. James had been very drunk at that time but the change was perceptible even through the dim blue lights of the club. Despite these potentially unsettling physical inconsistencies, Rich charmed most people he came across and was desired by a few more. People would reflect on how polite he was. A well mannered man, as if taught the rules of polite society in some ancient hall. He used politeness as a tool of poise and equanimity. It never made him meek, or kept him from expressing contrary views. Because of his well mannered ways, very few people would come away from an encounter with him with negative things to say. But it wasn't just his upbringing, Rich simply had this strange and magical way about him. Rich wouldn't deny it either. He always claimed that he was royalty. And not just some off-chance bastard, he would always specify, but a full blooded prince. Most importantly he was not a prince in this plane of existence, but a different one. Despite his pride in the matter, he was also tight lipped about the details of his home. Rich told James that he was not able to speak of it. James would always reply that he would have to show him then. \n\n\n\n\n\"Once I find my way back, I will take you with me,\" Rich would reply. \n\n\n\n\nThose words were always certain, but a little restrained as well. A pebble of doubt could be found in his delivery. It could be heard somewhere in the center of the wall of certainty he had build during his time here on this \"earthly\" plane. This pebble was delicately placed in that pressure point that could make the whole thing crumble if touched. It made James a little sad to hear it. Rich seemed indefatigable, but each time they shared that moment his human frailty was revealed. \n\nJames had laughed at the promise when it had first been given. The crown prince of another land, and he can't even talk about it! James had never expected to have such a high society roommate, much less a friend, like Rich. Two and a half years ago his first roommate, Michael, simply disappeared, leaving everything behind except a forwarding address. There was a moment when James noticed that the apartment had housed only him for too long. The echo of his roommate had stopped and was replaced by an oppressive solitude. Michael had liked to go drink and usually would stay away for a full two or three days. However a week without some kind of contact was strange. James had followed up with the police expressing his concerns on Michael's absence and possible well being. While he never connected on a personal level with Michael, he still worried for his roomie. This person he shared a living space with might be in some sort of danger. It was a strange cloud to live under. Waiting on the verdict, was his roommate dead, lying in a hospital in a coma somewhere? What else could it be? James found out quickly afterwards. Michael had bought passage to Paris. No return ticket.\n\n\n\n\nJames spent the next two weeks desperately scrambling to find someone to replace Michael. His landlord deaf to his pleas for an extension. These were extenuating circumstances after all, how could James have known that Michael would leave without even a note? James didn't have the surplus cash to cover the other half of the rent and with the deadline looming, he came close to having a full blown panic attack. The first few applicants had shown promise. They both had steady jobs, and their credit was good. Apparently their word was not for neither followed up or responded to his texts. Then, just a few days before rent was due, Rich showed up. As if he had actually materialized from some other dimension, a direct response to James's prayers for a savior. Rich had knocked on the apt door just as James was considering swallowing his pride to ask his family for help. At least just for this first month till he got a replacement nailed down. When James opened the door, Rich simply walked in, put on a pair of spectacles and began to examine the place.\n\n\n\n\n\"I'm sorry, can I help up?\" James said.\n\n\n\n\n\"Why yes, you can. This wall here,\" Rich pointed to the kitchen wall \"are these actual bricks? I would prefer that they are real bricks.\"\n\n\n\n\nJames looked at Rich, questioning him in silence. Rich held James's gaze and waited patiently. \n\n\n\n\n\"You still need a roommate, correct? I see that you've not settled on one. I would like to tour the apartment before fully committing.\"\n\n\n\n\nJames's head hurt. His mind did not want to accept that salvation was possible from this facsimile of a man. Someone had left this intruder in the sun too long. But if he had the money... if being the operative word.\n\n\n\n\n\"My name is Rich. My apologies for leaving that out. I was overcome with excitement, I need a place, and you need a lodger. Well, search no longer! I already love this wall. I have decided they are real bricks, and that was the crucial factor.\" Rich reached out and touched the wall, still scrutinizing it but agreeing with the feel of the texture on his fingers.\n\n\n\n\n\"Rich. My name is James. You caught me at a bad moment, and you also failed to schedule a time so I'm a little thrown. Yes, I do need a roommate ASAP but usually there is a process, you know? Proof of a job, security deposit, credit check.\" James put his hand to his head, the thumb and pointer finger finding his temples. He felt like he was getting a bit of vertigo looking at this guy. It was probably all the stress boiling his brain, set off by this strange intrusion. He had unconsciously closed his eyes, as if to keep this turmoil internal. There was too much going on and he was struggling to keep his composure. He felt a hand on his shoulder. As he opened his eyes he saw a glass of water in front of him. This was much needed. James drank it all down. He felt better. The water had washed down that ill feeling and cooled the heat of turmoil. Rich seemed to stand over him, though James swore he had to tilt his eyes down to meet Rich's earlier. \n\n\n\n\n\"I'm terribly sorry. It's obvious that my sudden appearance was at an inopportune time. My desire was to show myself to you, so you could see that my commitment is very much real. I have the funds necessary to fulfill the rent obligation and my word is good.\" Rich smiled at James. It was a good smile. Full of warmth and comfort. This is a man who means what he says, and James could use someone like that at this very moment.\n\n\n\n\n\"Look... you seem like a straight forward guy. I could use that right now. Are you actually going to stay here? Would you commit to a year?\" James didn't want the stress of looking for another tenant to enter his life for at least a year.\n\n\n\n\n\"I will commit to that room,\" Rich pointed to Michael's old room \"for five years!\" \n\n\n\n\n\"Don't do that! I don't know if I'll be here that long.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"Very well, I will stay here as long as you do. I will not leave you in the lurch.\" Rich smiled at James again. It was different this time. James couldn't put his finger on it, but clearly there was a message in it that he couldn't ascertain, a moment before he could process all this extra information\n\n\n\n\nJames and Rich arranged everything that night. It came together simply and the landlord was totally charmed by Rich. Rich had apparently shown him his account balance, and the landlord was put at ease instantly. It was the first day with Rich, and the first night. It was also the first night of deep sleep James had gotten since Michael had quit New York for Paris. ",
"*5 minutes later*\n\n\"Come on! Why did you start playing video games? Seriously? I thought you were coming with me!\" \n\nYou spin around in your chair to see John standing in front of a swirling, blue portal. You choke on your Sprite. \"What the Hell? I thought you were joking!\"\n\n\"Why would I joke about this??? This is serious! Are you coming? This thing closes in...\" he looks at his pocket watch, \"4 minutes!\"\n\n\"Shit!\" You panic and pull your duffel bag out from under your bed. Luckily, you always have basic travel necessities packed inside since you are notorious for forgetting things. You start shoving clothes from your dresser inside. What is the weather like there? You have to pack for all occasions. \n\n\"Seriously, I told you about this like a month ago. How are you not ready? We talked about this!\" John fumes. He fiddles with his pocket watch again. You'd always though he was a little odd for carrying one, but now you guessed there wasn't any electricity where you were going.\n\n\"Is there electricity there? Will there be anywhere to plug in my straightener?\" You ask, dashing for the pantry. \n\n\"No, there won't be. My home is not as advanced as this world,\" he replies. \"Were you listening to anything I've said this month?\"\n\n\"Well... yea. I mean, I didn't exactly store it as crucial information!\" You grab all the ramen and pasta along with some pasta sauce and SpaghettiOs. Hopefully that would hold you over until... what? You have no idea where you're going, but there was no time to think.\n\n\"If you're not ready in 2 minutes, I'm leaving without you,\" John informs you.\n\nYou dart into the bathroom and grab your glasses case. You have contacts in now, but you know they won't last long. You run back to your room, spot a lighter on your dresser, and toss it in as well. Finally, you think you have everything you'll need.\n\n\"Ok, let's go. Take my hand,\" John commands and turns towards you. That's when you notice a glint at his hip. He has the massive sword that had always hung in his room.\n\n\"Wait!\" You cry and jump onto your bed. Above it was mounted a replica katana from *The Walking Dead*. It was one of the few things you had allowed you to buy for yourself aside from your computer. You sling it over your back. \"Ready.\"\n\n\"Are you sure? You might not ever be able to come back,\" John says.\n\n\"There is nothing but debt and depression for me here,\" you say, grabbing his hand and bravely stepping towards the portal. John doesn't look scared at all, but fear is growing inside you. It feels surprisingly good. It has been a long time since you felt such a strong emotion.\n\nJohn suddenly yanks you into a hug, and before you can register what's happening, he tips you both sideways into the portal.\n\nThe dark blue light is blinding as you fall. It feels as though your heart is beating faster than a humming bird's wings. Then your side that was supposed to be facing up hits the ground. It knocks the breath out of you.\n\nThere is grass beneath your cheek, and a cool breeze teases your tresses across your face. The ground is solid and comforting beneath you as you try to catch your breath.\n\n\"Are you all right?\" John asks, untangling himself from you and sitting up. \n\nYou raise your eyes and let them adjust to the sunlight. It was beautiful out, but it was still darker than the portal. Before you is a lake trimmed with mountains. Trees taller than your office building spring up behind it. They meet the meadow you lay on only a short distance away, and you can see little lights dancing within. The lake ripples softly at the breeze's caress. It's something out of a picture.\n\n\"Oh, nooooo,\" you say, groaning as you sit up.\n\n\"What's wrong? Did you get hurt?\" John asks, concern creasing his face.\n\n\"I forgot my swimsuit.\"\n\n*Edits for continuity to the prompt and words.*",
"My mount shuddered, powerful muscles thrumming beneath me as his wings clawed at the sky. The great **thuum** of the vast leathery wigs vibrated in my skulls, but even that could not drown out the roars, the cries, the ring of steel on steel and the thunderous pounding of the cannons. \n\nI was acutely aware of my surroundings, of the heat radiating from the adamantine scales beneath me, of the slender arm wrapped around my waist - an arm I knew was there but could not feel through the heavy chain hauberk I was clad in. Her other was cast to the side, that now-familiar pressure building in the air around us as she twisted in the saddle and loosed a shimmering, iridescent lance of light from her palm.\n\nMy stomach lurched as we banked hard right to avoid the shrapnel-burst of the anti-air qrtillery on the ground. I cast my eyes about and hissed a clumsy curse that still felt unfamiliar on my tongue. My companion echoed me, her voice still achingly beautiful even as she uttered an even fouler profanity, \"Donovan-Foreigner, we've strayed too far from the main group. They will overwhelm us, we must- look!\"\n\nFour whip-thin, reptilian creatures hurled themselves into the air on ragged wings. They were covered in blades that tore trough the air with a whistling that brought bile to my throat. I had heard that sound before, I knew what those things could do to a flier if they could swarm him. \n\nOur mount gave a low, rumbling growl, \"*They are too agile, I can not out-manoeuvre them. Sergeant, can you hit them?*\"\n\n\"I can but try. Come about, if we can get one with flame I can chance another with a bolt. We will need to close so that they have no time to dodge,\" my companion said, voice filling with tension. \n\nClosing with a Fane was a dangerous prospect at the best of times, never mind four of them. I checked my side-arm, a quick test of the rifle's chamber. Thank God for armour-piercing immolation rounds. It'd be hard to hit one, we'd be going very fast... but better than nothing.\n\n\"Alright then,\" I said, \"If we can get past them we can make a break for Nathaniel's banner, get under cover of our own guns.\"\n\nAnother hard lurch as we turned about sharply. The Fanes screeched a challenge as they saw us turn to meet them. Their voices chilled you, pierced you to the bone, shrieks that tore at your resolve and promised nothing but agony before the end. \n\nFifty feet. I readied my gun. I'd only have one shot. \n\nThirty. The pressure around us built as the \"Pattern\" was tugged and twisted by my co-rider as she called forth her power. \n\nTen. I could see the blood-crazed gleam in their eyes, the light gleaming off the razor-edge of wing and talon.\n\nThere was a great bang as my gun went off, one Fane's death-wail sounding as it clawed at its throat as it span away, flames consuming fetid flesh as tongues of it licked under its armoured scales, burning it to death from the inside out. Another iridescent lance blew off the head of another, the decapitated corpse spasming on for a moment more before its ruin plummeted to the miasma of blood and mud below, trailing droplets of black ichor. The third Fane found itself immersed in blue flames, its armoured hide melting into the body below, its eyes boiling in their sockets. A pathetic, sickening gurgle was all it could utter as it desperately tried to claw for us but was sent hurtling below by the thwack of a thick, bladed tail.\n\nIn the frantic few moments it took for us to dispatch the first three Fanes, the fourth won through the tumult and slammed into us bodily. Our mount snarled in pain and rage as serrated claws scrapped at his scales and barbs and blades prised into vulnerable flesh below. Boiling blood fell in rivulets and it was all we could do to hang on as we went whirling through the sky in a chaos of blood and claw and fang. It was too close for me to get a shot off with my gun, the frantic clawing and twisting was enough to make me fear for maiming our mount rather than the enemy. \n\nIt was just as Sergeant Laera was gathering her strength for a spell - probably not a bolt this time, too close for that - that one of the blood-slicked blades of the Fan tore through the straps of our saddle. The violent thrashing of the combatants tore us loose and I did not even have time to scream as we were sent hurling away from the melee into freefall. \n\nTime seemed to slow, the straps came loose and I was free of the saddle. I caught the terrified eyes of my Elven companion. She was saying something but the rushing wind tore the words away before I could hear them.\n\nThe ground rushed up to meet us.\n\n\n---So, you're probably wondering how I ended up falling to my death from dragonback hundreds of feet in the air in the middle of a war with a magic-elf lady throwing magic missiles like they were going out of fashion. Funny story, actually, it started a few months earlier when my weird roommate shook me awake at midnight...---",
"Johannes is a very strange bird. Damn it, I just *had* to fall in love with the guy.\n\n---\n\nI dream of mom. I dream of how she held me and sung to me. How she loved me. I dream of how dad took her away. I dream of pain. Of fear. Of the screaming and the bruises and and the panic. My panic. My suffering. \n\nI dream of my life. I dream of my misery. I am content in my misery.\n\n---\n\n\"Miranda,\" he says, shaking me gently, his weird sense of stately grace evident even in waking me up before my alarm goes off. I should have decked him right then and there. But I couldn't do that to him. I blink to clear my vision, cleaning the cobwebs from my mind. \"Johannes? What's up?\"\n\n\"I can finally open a portal to my homeland,\" he whispers urgently. \"You have five minutes to get ready.\"\n\nI don't quite register at first. Maybe I'm still asleep. \"Say again?,\" I slur. \n\n\"I'm going home, Miranda. I know you've always wanted to come,\" he says tenderly. \"So come. There is so much more than this mundane plane. Get ready.\"\n\nSilence passes over 4 seconds. \"...Johannes, what the fuck?\"\n\n\"I kid you not, Miranda. All of your dreams will flourish where I am from. Everything you ever wanted, every beautiful daydream. Everything is possible,\" he explains softly yet with passion, his smile beaming with excitement. \n\nI can't stay pissed at him with a smile like that. \"Johannes... how far is this joke gonna go?\"\n\n\"It is no joke,\" he says, his eyes deadly serious. I sigh quietly; I don't know what he'll show me. Maybe this is his way of telling me we're going on a road trip? \"Johannes,\" I start gently, not wanting to hurt him. \"I got work tomorrow. I don't wanna get fired.\"\n\n\"You'll never have to work a day again. You'll be treated as a princess.\"\n\nIs... is he telling me he likes me? I sputter for a little, trying to get my words together as I sit up. \"Look, Johannes, didn't you say you were banished?,\" I ask, playing along. \n\n\"Unfairly!,\" he exclaims, edging into a shout. \"I was not banished by my parents! It was my sister--!\" \n\n\"Johannes, quiet down...\" He sighs, visibly pissed. \"I apologize,\" he then says, straightening up. \"But the terms of my banishment are of no relevance. Now, will you come or not?\"\n\n\"Dude, how far *is* this 'kingdom'?\"\n\n\"Tis only a step through a door.\"\n\nShit, he probably made his room up to look like some sort of kingdom. Or made up a model of some sort. He woke me up for this? Fine. Whatever. I get up out of bed and follow him to his room. He opens the door. \n\nWhat the **fuck?**\n\nHole in wall. Wait. Portal. Wait. Fuck. Fucking. Portal. What? I... what? You fucking-- **what?!** I... \n\nImpossible. \n\n\"...J-Johannes...\"\n\n\"Are you ready?\"\n\n\"H-how...?\"\n\n\"Miranda, we must go!,\" he shouts over the loud grating sound of a hole in space.\n\n\"Johannes, will we be able to come back?!\"\n\n\"I... I'm unsure!\"\n\nGod fucking damn it.\n\n\"Johannes!\" He takes a step towards me, placing his soft hands on my shoulders. \"Miranda! I know how unhappy you are here! I know how alone you feel! You are all I have!,\" he screams over the forceful wind shooting at us from the portal. \"Please! I cannot leave you behind!\"\n\nAll this time, he meant all he said. The realm, kingdom, the castle... it was true... holy shit. \n\nHe's royalty. And... he wants me with him.\n\n\"J-Johannes! Why me?!\"\n\n\"Why you?! Why not?!\"\n\n\"I'm... I'm a fucking mess! I'm certainly not royalty!\"\n\nHe goes silent a moment. \"Miranda... you are strong,\" he speaks firmly. \"You have lost so much! You have been abused at the hands of those with power over you your entire life! All this time, I've seen you and known you deserved greater! Far greater!\"\n\n\"What?!\"\n\n\"Miranda, I love you! I am deeply and madly in love with you! I want you by my side!\"\n\nIt's hard to describe this feeling. This feels like a dream, I guess? The man of my dreams seeking to whisk me off to a magical kingdom. Maybe I'm still asleep. Maybe I've been asleep the whole time I've known him. I don't know. But I know what I want. \n\nI take one thing; the picture of my mom and I on my nightstand. Would she want this for me? I look up into Johannes's eyes. His eyes that promise I'll finally be happy.\n\nYeah. She'd want this.\n\nI take his hand, tears welling up in my eyes. He pulls me through. The portal closes just as we pass through. \n\n---\n\nThe songbirds sing. The sun shines like it wouldn't in the city. Blue sky. Peace. I hold mom's photo close to my chest, my heart pounding. It's been so dark... but I made it, mom. \n\nI made it.\n\n",
"I'm being shaken awake.\n\nViolently.\n\nSo now come the questions.\n\nOne - what time is it?\n\nTwo - where am I?\n\nThree - which dumb mother fucker is about to have their teeth kicked in?\n\nAnswers come succinctly.\n\nTime, four in the morning.\n\nPlace, my bedroom.\n\nAnd my alcoholic roommate with the fruity foreign accent is the dumb mother fucker in question.\n\nI can smell the gin on his breath, but his eyes flash with sobriety and purpose. \n\n\"Get up,\" he slurs. Each word punctuated with a final shake.\n\n\"We have five minutes until the portal opens!\"\n\nHe runs to the light, flicking it on.\n\nIn conjunction with confusion, I am now blinded.\n\nThis can't be my roommate. This man is a stranger.\n\nHis hair is actually combed. He looks like he may have bathed.\n\nOn top of this, he's wearing some ridiculous robes of purple and gold, made out fucking velvet.\n\nI rub my eyes, but the images remain the same.\n\n\"We have to hurry, we have to hurry, hurry, hurry!\" \n\nHe pulls out my lock box from my drawers, tossing it onto the bed.\n\nInside is a snub nose revolver and a box of corresponding ammunition. \n\nI'm fairly certain I've never shown him that box before.\n\nWe'll have to have a talk about personal space.\n\nNext comes a flurry of clothing, shirts, pants, underwear, socks.\n\n\"Jesus man, what the fuck are you doing?\"\n\nThe words come out slowly and drowsily, and I swing myself to stand.\n\nWhite light blasts through the doorway, and something is grabbing my feet, some invisible force dragging me to a swirling cloud.\n\nI piss myself, but that isn't important right now.\n\nBlinding sunlight.\n\nA dirt road.\n\nTall grasses sway in the wind.\n\nBelongings fall from the sky, some hitting, some missing.\n\nMy clothing.\n\nA pair of boots.\n\nPunctuated by my roommate falling nearly ten feet, followed by an earsplitting pop.\n\nI vomit into the dirt.\n\nIt is daytime.\n\nIt is daytime, on the side of a road, by a forest.\n\nMy roommate comes over, offering a hand.\n\nI slap it away.\n\n\"Portals take some getting used to,\" he says. He's gathering my clothing, tossing some that I may use. \n\n\"What in the fuck is happening, man?\"\n\nI'm too confused to be angry anymore.\n\n\"Richard Stone, many times have you agreed to aid me in my return from exile.\"\n\nI dress.\n\nIn his hand is my lockbox. The other rests upon the pommel of an actual fucking sword.\n\n\"Welcome to my home, Carinthia.\"\n\nHe spreads his arms, gesturing to the world around us.\n\n\"Eat shit, man. Where the fuck are we?\"\n\nI spit, the taste of vomit lingering. Lovely.\n\nHe shrugs, pulling out a bottle of my God damn gin from his robe.\n\nHe takes a swig, handing the bottle to me.\n\n\"I just threw up, man.\"\n\nHe walks past, patting my back.\n\n\"Are you telling me,\" I spit again into the dirt, \"We're in that made up place we always joke about?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"That weird fairy tale place where you're some kind of prince?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Man I only joked about that shit because of your accent.\"\n\nHe snorts, offended.\n\n\"A wicked wizard wed my mother the Queen, and banished me to another realm when he gave birth to a son of his own.\"\n\nIs this guy actually serious?\n\n\"That is the absolute most cliche load of bullshit I have ever heard.\"\n\nMy roommate scratches his head.\n\n\"We've spoken of my land, a kingdom where the many fairy tales of your world are based upon.\"\n\nI'm still blinking, adjusting to a cloudless sky.\n\n\"Man fairy tales are based off of some pretty fucked up shit - rape, abduction, necrophilia, pedophilia, assault, murder, arson, stealing, cannibalism,\" I pause. \n\nSleeping beauty, Cinderella, The Pied Piper, Rapunzel, Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood. The gory original versions of fairy tales are the stuff of nightmares.\n\nAnother pause. Movement in the distance.\n\nThere's an actual flying horse in the God damn sky.\n\n\"And that,\" my roommate moves forward, handing me my lockbox, \"is why we brought your gun.\"\n\nI thumb the key code, loading the revolver and placing the box of rounds in my pocket.\n\nLet's just assume this is a dream, for the sake of my sanity.\n\nHe begins to swagger down the road.\n\nWith no other options to speak of, I follow.\n\nTo adventure.\n\nI guess.\n\n-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nr/storiesfromapotato"
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[WP] Fed up with your bad luck, you decide to make your own four-leaf clover by using some tape and the leaves from two ordinary, but damaged, clovers. The good news is that your DIY-clover works! The bad news is that the luck it gives you is...unpredictable.
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"He was pretty sure his new four-leaf clover worked. He had tested it over and over again at home. He played online poker to test it, and won every hand. What he was unaware of was the onset of carpal tunnel in both of his wrists. He decided to test his luck out in the real world. \n\nHe grabbed his coat, put on his shoes and began to walk to the stairs, knowing full well that elevator was on the fritz. But then he remembered his clover, and pushed the elevator button. \n\n-Ding-\n\n\"No way.\" He muttered to himself. He kissed his makeshift clover and slipped it into the breast pocket of his jacket. His eyes skipped over most of the buttons on his hand's way to push in the little star, but they always hovered on the 13th floor.\n\n Most buildings omit the 13th floor button from the elevator, instead skipping from 12 to 14. He never thought it mattered as the 14th floor was still technically the 13th. Nevertheless, he always felt uneasy that there was a 13th floor. Not that he was superstitious. Even if he was, he had his clover now...\n\nThe elevator stopped at the 13th floor. \"Shit,\" he said, \"I hope it's...\" The doors slid open and revealed the angelic image of \"the girl on floor 13\". \"Oh hi,\" he mumbled. The girl half smiled and stood as far away from him as one possibly could in the tiny metal cube. He was always a little pathetic, he mused, but the clover...\n\n\"I swear the lights are brighter on your floor,\" he said, turning full on to face the girl from floor 13. \"Maybe,\" she replied, shifting her shoulder a little, \"what floor are you?\" The hesitation in her voice suggested she asked out of courtesy, not interest. \"14,\" he said, rubbing his breast pocket. \"Real dark on 14, huh?\" Her eyes flared as he continued rubbing himself. \"Yeah.\" He turned back towards the door watched the little window count down the floors of the building. \n\n-Ding-\n\nHe watched the girl from floor 13 exit the elevator. She walked with such grace, he thought. Indeed everything about her was admirable, specifically her ability to check her phone for the weather before venturing out. She had, tapping lightly against her right galosh as she sauntered towards the lobby doors, a polka dot umbrella. \n\n\"Damn,\" he sighed. He exited the elevator just as the doors began to close on him. The clover seemed powerless to help those who didn't help themselves. He began to question whether or not he should venture out at all. He should test it more, he thought. While he debated his indecisive mind he almost instantaneously found himself outside. \n\nSuddenly a very peculiar thing happened indeed. His eyes flashed to the girl from floor 13 before she turned the corner. She was taking her umbrella back in. The rain had stopped dead. \"Guess we're going out then, huh?\" He asked the clover. The clover did not reply. \n\nHis eyes darted at the world he was all too familiarly unfamiliar with. Puddles of rain pooled around him, drowned out in the grey sea of urban life. He decided to walk in the same direction as the girl from floor 13. Maybe all he had to do was ask her out, he thought, rubbing his breast pocket. He barely even noticed the pain in his wrists. She had already crossed the next street over. He hustled nervously to the corner. Just as he did the traffic light changed in his favor. \n\nThe girl from floor 13 stopped halfway down the street, peering at a department store display. He caught up to her and after a quick breath asked, \"Can I borrow your umbrella?\" She stared blankly at him. \"I forgot mine, can I borrow yours? It's stopped raining.\" Suddenly her eyes flickered with life. \"Of course,\" she said, \"but you'll have to give it back.\" \"I will,\" he promised, \"at dinner tonight?\" \n\nHe grew about two inches taller on his walk back to his apartment. He would have to pick out clothes and inspect them to make sure they were clean. He needed to shower, shave... would he have time for a haircut, he wondered. No, he wouldn't. \n\nHis contented mood was slightly diminished when he had accidentally stepped into a shin-deep puddle just over the curb as he crossed the street inattentively. He had always hated puddles, but nothing was going to put a damper on his mood anymore. He had a date with the girl on floor 13. As he stared at his submerged foot he rubbed his breast pocket. He could just barely make out the bus that blew the light in the ripples.\n",
"Before I had my YinYang Clover, people would always tell me stuff like 'the harder I work the luckier I get'. Smug, self-satisfaction oozing out of them like the luck they apparently manufacture. You know who never says stuff like that? Anyone who has actually been stung by the winds of fate. Its easy to claim good luck is down to you when everything goes your way. Like that guy on Kimmel who said believing Taylor Swift when she says follow your dreams it will work out, is the same as listening to a Lotto winner who says spend all your Social Security on Lotto tickets, it worked for me!\n\nUnless you've suffered bad luck, really bad luck, over a period of time you can't have a perspective on it. And I don't mean the sort of long shot, horrible stuff like cancer or something. I mean that sucks of course, but a one off hit of bad luck, even devastating terminal bad luck is not the same as the never ending drudgery of consistent bad luck. Its what Poker players would call below Expected Value. There is chance in everything, but run it enough times and the probability of you being unlucky reduces. Except for some poor souls, it doesn't. You just keep on being a bit unlucky on everything. At first it doesn't matter too much. Your car breaks down and the bus is cancelled one time. But that happens just before a opportunity comes up at work, and you miss it, and so a promotion a few months later. So you have a bit less spare cash when the boiler packs up, and you have to borrow money to fix it and.. well you get the idea.\n\nWhich leads my life here. In my parents house again. At 34. No job, girlfriend, car, credit or long term friendships. Yeah, I've thought about what your thinking, but there's no way I'm lucky enough to go out clean.\n\nFinally, last week, when my Dad landed 'you make your own luck' on me, in response to my bitching I couldn't take it any more.\n\nI went out and stood in the park, and just looked at the grass waving to the wind, like a huge green festival swaying to a ballad. A patch of clover caught my eye and I flopped down and started fiddling through the leaves. No chance I'd be lucky enough to find the 4 leaf one though. The words of my father spun around my head, bad cable TV flashback style. \n\nA pack of peanuts in my bag had a 'peel and reseal' bit of tape on the back and I McGuyver'd up a Frankenstein 4 leaf clover. I put it in my top pocket with a bitter smirk to myself and immediately found a second, real 4 leaf clover.\n\n\"What the hell?\" I said to myself as I picked at it, then wrenched my hand back as a bit of broken glass underneath it jabbed into my ring finger, drawing blood. \n\nI stood back up, and sucking my sore finger, turned to leave the park. A root grabbed my foot and I stumbled. Stumbled right onto a $10 bill that had been blowing past.\n\n\"Weird\" I said to myself, and walked for the bus. I got to the stop, just as the bus was about to leave, which when they run every hour is a pretty good result. \n\n\"Sorry, man. I got no change\", was all the driver said when I offered the $10 bill. I decided to take that hit. Karma was swirling today. My life was a Reddit thread, sorted by controversial.\n\nThe rest of the day passed in a blur of happenstance. Any one of which would be remarkable but in the end were remarkable only in their consistency. Eventually I spotted the pattern. It must be the clover. It was giving me good luck and corresponding bad luck in every situation. Something about the two halves being connected. The Yin and connected Yang of good and bad luck. \n\nI was angry, then confused, then happy, as at least this would be good and bad luck so balanced out. I tested it out for a couple of days, buying Lotto tickets (as I'm too tone deaf to try and be Taylor Swift) for example. I won. But lost the ticket. It was impossible to win or lose substantially with the clover in my life.\n\nSo, I've had a brainwave. If I can't gain, maybe others can. If I can get some crazy illness, or poison myself or something unlucky, then the clover will find a cure, and maybe others will be saved. I just need to figure out how to get ill. The Tide Challenge looks a good place to start......\n\n___________________________________________________\n/r/TallerestTales\n",
"\"I'm serious man, it's the clover,\" steven argued.\n\nMat checked his paper sack. \"That little *weed* didn't win you an extra burrito,\" Mat asserted, \"They just put *my* burrito in *your* sack by mistake.\" \n\nSteven grew hyper, gesturing to the clover in his cap. \"How do you explain the DWI I escaped last night?\" Steven asked, \"The cop didn't even chase me when I ducked in the alley, and-\"\n\n\"Give me my burrito.\" Mat broke in. He wanted to avoid hearing this story again.\n\n\"Fine. Fine.\" Steven said, tossing the burrito to Mat. \"When does your sister get home?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Mat said, \"stop asking about my sister all the time. She's not your type.\"\n\n\"You mean *I'm* not *her* type.\" Steven remarked. Mat had moved into his sister's apartment when starting university.\n\n\"Whatever. I don't know where she is. I haven't seen her since yesterday. She may have stayed at a friends place. And anyway, you look like a moron with that weed in your cap.\" Mat added. He pulled the wrapping away, then bit his burrito.\n\n\"Listen, I think the clover only works when I put myself in a situation. You know? I have to be ready to benefit first, then the luck comes.\" Steven said.\n\n\"Ok,\" Mat started, ready to end the nonsense. He gave a sweeping survey of the living room. \"Take that rubix cube on the desk,\" Mat said, \"solve it.\"\n\nSteven leaped off the sofa and snatched up the cube. He cranked it every way he could, the clover wobbling in his cap. \"You're just making it worse, you idiot.\" Mat smirked. After less than a minute, Steven stopped. He shot his face to the desk. \"Maybe i'll try the other one,\" he said, tossing the first cube at Mat.\n\n\"Ya. The clover can't solve *this one* huh.\" Mat flipped the cube segments once or twice and Steven began work on the second cube. Impulse and abuse appeared to be Steven's only strategy. Mat's expert fingers finished his cube. He rested the cube on his leg, stuffed the last piece of burrito in his mouth, then froze. Steven's cube was solved.\n\n\"Look!\" Steven exclaimed, \"I told you! I'm not sure why it worked on this cube, maybe it's the way I'm wearing it in my cap. Do you think I should put it on my sleeve or something?\" \n\n\"Wow.\" Mat muttered, \"That actually is pretty unlikely.\"\n\n\"I know! look! I finished mine before you did!\" Steven beamed. \"Maybe I can enter rubix cube competitions like you.\"\n\n\"Nope. I finished mi..\" Mat fought back a gasp. The cube on his pant-leg was scrabbled again.\n\n\"Wow.\" Mat whispered.\n\n\"Do you think I should water the clover? Like in a flower vase. Will the luck disappear once it dies?\" Steven nagged.\n\nMat was unphased by Steven's mindless interrogations. He watched the cube on his lap like it might grow legs, then swatted it across the room.\n\nSteven shot a puzzled look at the cube by the wall. \"What's wrong with you, man?\" Steven asked.\n\n\"Steven, listen. Either this is all just a coincidence or worse. That *weed* isn't giving you good luck, it's taking what's mine and giving it to you instead. That cube was solved, man. I solved it, put it on my lap, and then yours was solved, and mine was scrambled again.\"\n\nSteven shifted on his feet, his mind searching for some way to stay cheerful.\n\n\"This could be really bad, man.\" Mat continued. \"You could really hurt someone. That cop should have arrested you last night, right?\"\n\nSteven wanted to resist this train of thought. \"Yeah,\" He answered.\n\n\"Ok, so what if he arrested someone in your place? Dude, you could have sent someone to jail.\" Mat reasoned.\n\n\"I don't think so.\" Steven said.\n\n\"No! you don't *want* to think so.\" Mat said.\n\n\"Look man, I'm not that well off,\" Steven urged, \"I'm struggling to pay bills right now. I might loose my apartment. And now this clover happened. What if this is fate? or karma? You know?\" \n\n\"Shut up.\" Mat said.\n\n\"What if this is just catching me up, to all the luck I should have had? What if all my luck in life went to other people, and now I'm just taking it back?\" Steven asked.\n\n\"That's not for you to decide, you can't steal stuff from people!\" Mat said. \n\n\"Then who? Who decides? This clover is proof that someone already *did* decide!\" Steven said.\n\n\"We're gonna destroy that fucking clover.\" Mat marched toward Steven. He stretched out his hand for the clover cap, and steven swatted. Mat wheeled off balance and accelerated downward, driving his head into the table corner. \n\n\"Wow!\" Steven exclaimed. \n\nMat sat next to the table, blood trickling down the side of his face. *I should have expected this*, he thought. Mat glared at the clover, which seemed to glare back. *How could Steven be such a fucking moron?* \n\nMat sprang to his feet, \"We gotta go!\"\n\n\"Where?\" Steven hesitated.\n\n\"To the Police station.\" Mat said. \"If my sister took your DWI I'm gonna fucking kill you.\" \n"
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[WP] There is no Grim Reaper. Instead, there is a person so ominously dressed that whenever they are spotted, people run in fear and get themselves killed
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"It was going to be a boring day at school, not to mention that my day had begun on a sour note. After shoving burnt pancakes and bitter coffee down my throat, I dragged myself along the street, trying to make it in time for my classes. It was going to be a boring day...\n\nBut, who knew...\n\nI spotted him at a distance, walking behind me. Or was it woman? I could not make it out. It looked well-dressed, yet it looked ordinary. It looked normal, yet they was something so wrong about it. He had definite features, yet they were blurred. He was there, and yet... he was not...\n\nHe slowed his pace and increased it, alternately, as he walked behind me. My heart started to beat faster, as I walked ahead. Even though he was not looking at me, he scared the bejeesus out of me. He began to walk faster and faster, making me almost run till I hit the curb. I was so nervous, that I began to cross the road, even when the signal did not tell me to. I gulped and ran and... \n\nA feeling of numbness began to fill my eyes, as I stared at the people gathering around the bloodied corpse in the middle of the road. I stared at the lifeless gaze, as the police van arrived. The numbness spread, and I could not feel myself anymore. My emotions, feelings, warmth, all gone away with the life that I had. And now, with everything gone, I had nothing to lose.\n\nI turned around, walking ominously along the road, staring straight. Everything around me existed, but it suddenly felt unreal. I walked and walked and walked, till I reached the other side of town. I kept walking, feeling dazed, till I woke up...\n\n...to the sound of a running someone, in front of me, succumbing to her fate and breathing her last...\n"
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[WP] In the future, the U.S government issues one rewind point per person. If more than one is used, the user dies.
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"The rewind point system. In essence, they let you fix one mistake that you had made. As far as the powers of the government went, at least. They couldn't brainwash your crush into forgetting that you'd ever confessed, nor could they fix your reputation. They could, however, delve deep into the private sector to rectify your misdeed. \n\nEveryone got a single point. That was it. Non-transferable, so the rich couldn't be eternally risk free. If you tried to use more than one? You'd get a warning. If you persisted, they'd kill you. No one really knew why, but it was safer to not question it. \n\nToday, I was about to have to use my rewind point. All my life, I'd been told by my parents that it was a precious thing: don't use it on school, make sure to save it for something you *really* need. Their philosophy had seen them both die with theirs unused in a car accident. \n\nYou couldn't rewind that.\n\nBut, as it turns out, their advice was going to save my life today. You see, three weeks ago I was walking into an underground, illegal casino, ready to gamble away my life's savings- not much, of course. If it were more, I wouldn't have been so desperate. Predictably, I had lost it all within hours. I was freaking out. Then, I remembered about my rewind point.\n\nThe government didn't care if what you did was illegal when you used your point: they didn't ask that many questions, surprisingly. However, there was one slight snag with my idea to use a rewind point. While I was safe from any legal repercussions as the user of the point, the casino was very much at risk from me. Normally, this might have lead them to not allow me in at all, without some sort of identification that I had already used my point. I fit the profile of someone who was scared and desperate perfectly. Luckily, though. I had a friend. He vouched for me. Poor guy.\n\nWhen they found out that I still had my point, and planned to use it, they dragged him off and 'detained' me. I haven't seen him since. \n\nEscaping the casino had been a bloody affair. For some reason, the guard who had been watching me was called away, and I was able to make my way through my bonds during that time. When he returned, I surprised him, stealing his weapon and cutting him down with it. From there, I sneaked out as best as I could.\n\nIt turns out, 'as best as I could' included four counts of manslaughter. I would go to the chair. Rewind points weren't valid normally when people were killed. My lawyer though, he was a smart one. Managed to argue that my situation left me no choice but to attack my captors. \n\nThey didn't drop the charges, but they let me use my point. Of course, this means that I'm not getting any of my money back, but at this moment, I'm glad not to be dead. I left the courtroom, alive and unshackled. Broke, but living.\n\n___\n\nIf you liked this, please check out my other stories over at /r/OpiWrites!"
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[WP] “You must write down ten names and then burn the paper,” he instructed. “In one week, only those ten will be alive.”
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"They say be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it. \n\nEver since I was a young teenager, I thought of myself as too intelligent for this corrupt, materialistic shithole world. When I turned on the news I saw people comitting atrocities in the name of their peaceful religion. I saw young adults in peculiar clothing who'd never done an ounce of work in their life complain about how it's too hard to get a job. I saw people looting their neighborhoods because a member of their community had been murdered by an officer of the law. \"Bullshit,\" I grumbled, taking a couple of sips straight from a bottle of scotch. I set the bottle down by my recliner where various bottles of booze lay strewn about. \n\n\"I wish everyone could just fuck off and I could be by myself. No one to bother me.... no one to corrupt this 'beautiful' planet,\" I realized that I was talking to myself out loud and chastised myself for the odd behavior. Suddenly, a knock at the door. I hadn't hard a car pull up. I got up from my nest of self-loathing and walked over to the front door of my small one-story house. A few empty bottles and soup cans had been kicked over in the process of heading for the door. I undid several of the locks and left the chain lock in place so that the door couldn't open much wider to stick a hand through. In my right hand, being hidden by the door, was my handgun. I used it for protection mostly. Though in all honesty, it'd would probably be the instrument of my destruction one day. \n\nThe man was your stereotypical G-Man type. Black suit, black tie, sunglasses in the middle of Winter. You know the guy. The man offers no introduction, but instead hands me a piece of paper and says, \"Write down ten names on that paper. Those ten names will be the people that live through next week.\" \n\nI looked down at the paper, it was as thick as card stock. Not very flimsy either. I looked back up to speak, \"So what's happening in-\" I cut myself off because I saw that he was gone. Leaving as mysteriously as he'd arrived, the only evidence I had indicating that it wasn't a hallucination was this sheet of paper. \n\nI finally had the power. I had the power to bring the world to its knees. I looked over at a bookcase that held many photographs embedded into picture frames. All of them were littered with dust except for four. The first picture was of a young woman smiling. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties. The second picture had the same woman, but this time she was wearing a white dress and was accompanied by a younger version of myself dressed in a tuxedo with a church in the background. Finally, the last picture was of an infant. The picture was clearly taken at a hospital. If one looked close enough, they could see the tears that stained the last photograph. \n\nI made my way through a path of garbage so that I could go to my office. It was a small room with a dated computer from the early 2010s, a desk, and a mini-refrigerator inside. I sat down at my chair and began to think of ten names of ten people I wanted to keep around. I thought it was obvious to write my own name down first, but I didn't. I decided this was too much to decide all at once, so I went back to the living room after an hour of contemplation and began watching TV. \n\nBefore I knew it, days had passed and I was limited to only twelve hours to think of the 10 people I wanted to live. After really thinking it through, I thought the world deserved a do-over. Mass extinctions happen all of the time, so why not be the one that allows this one to happen. I turned my gas stove on and retrieved the blank paper from my room. It was hard for my to decide whether I should be vain and put my own name on it, just as a last middle finger to the world, or to die alongside everyone else. Finally I decided not to write my name down, and I placed the cardstock over the burner. Within seconds the house smelled of burnt paper. Deciding to take my life into my own hands, I grabbed the handgun that was always on the stand next to my recliner. I sat down and looked at it for a few moments. After sitting there for what seemed like forever, I finally put the barrel into my mouth and squeezed the trigger. \n\nAll of a sudden, I was greeted to bright lights as my VR helmet was being removed. \"Thank you for taking part in this social experiment. We look forward to further testing with you in the future,\" a female robotic voice spoke through a speaker on the wall. \n\n_______________\nThis was a lot of fun and it was my first writing prompt to actually take part in. All criticism is welcomed. I apologize for any formatting issues as I'm typing this on mobile. ",
"\"What the *fuck*?!\" That was the first sound made in a minute after the man's declaration. Jason, always the succinct one. \n\n\"Only ten of us will..?\" The girl speaking, Cindy, began to cry.\n\n\"We need to go tell the the others. We'll decide what to do then.\" I tried to be calm. I tried to be the leader that everyone expected of me. But, in that moment, I was a frightened little boy. No more than I had been when I first arrived in this place. \n\n\"You *believe* him, Cole?\" Jason asked me. \n\n\"He's never lied to us before, Jason. Why would he start now?\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know, because it concerns the death of two thirds of our population? There's no *way* he's telling us the truth!\" Jason may have been right. If so, that would be a blessing. But I wasn't so sure about his assertion.\n\n\"Regardless, if it is, we need to decide on a course of action. Let's go back to base and tell the others what he said.\"\n\n\"And cause panic?\"\n\n\"Stop! Stop fighting, please.\" Cindy interjected into our argument. I hadn't realized it, but our voices had been growing progressively louder and more aggressive. \n\n\"Right. I'm sorry, Cindy.\" Jason looked at the ground. Jason and Cindy had arrived here together, so he had a special attachment to her and would listen when no one else could get through. \n\nI turned, and began the trek back to our base. I admonished myself for getting mad at Jason. He was younger. He didn't have the burden of 'leader' to weigh him down. It was natural that he wouldn't understand. Cindy and Jason followed, and we soon returned to find that the others were already gathered. As far as I could tell, anyways. There were over forty kids aged from ten years old to eighteen years old here, and it was sometimes hard to keep track of them all.\n\n\"The skyvoice told us to meet here, because you would have something to talk about with us. Was it right?\" One of the older girls named Junky asked. Her real name was Janice, but she was so good with machinery that she gave herself that nickname and complained whenever someone didn't call her that.\n\n\"Is it ever wrong?\" I responded. I didn't wait for her answer before launching into a loud explanation of what the man had told me. Some began to whisper, others to cry, and more to yell. It took thirty minutes to calm them all and regain control of the crowd. Even as a group of children this large, that was a long time. \n\n\"So, we need to discuss what to do. Do we believe him? If so, how do we pick?\"\n\n\"Isn't it obvious? If it's true, we do a lottery. Plain and simple. Can't get more fair than that.\" One of the boys in the back shouted. I couldn't exactly see who it was through the crowd. \n\n\"No way! I think Cole should decide,\" Cindy said. *What?* \"I can't stand the thought of my life being decided by a roll of the dice!\" I thought that this would quickly be dismissed as ridiculous, but the crowd seemed to agree with her.\n\n\"You're fine with your life being decided by *me*?\" I asked, looking at Cindy, then to the crowd. She nodded. Leader or not, this was too much for one person. Couldn't they see the unreasonable expectations that I now shouldered? How could I possibly decide who dies? And yet, the general consensus seemed to be turning against me. They all believed I should decide who would live. I steadied my arm, and did my best to relax my clenched fists. I had to stay confident. For them.\n\n\"Fine. I'll do it.\" Junky raised an eyebrow at me, but didn't say anything. \n\n___\n\nLater, in my room, I agonized over the small sheet of paper in front of me. Not a lick of progress had been made. It would be impossible. Maybe I should do a lottery in secret? I dismissed the thought. Despite the weight put upon me, I would not betray their trust. \n\nThus, after hours of thinking, I wrote out a list of nine names. At the bottom, I hesitated. I couldn't do such a thing. I wouldn't. I tried to convince myself of that.\n\nBut, in a moment of overpowering weakness and fear I knew that I would eventually come to regret, I wrote my name at the very bottom of the list, put it to the small candle at my desk, and watched it burn.\n\n___\n\nIf you like this story, please check out my subreddit, /r/OpiWrites!"
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[WP] Do you ever wonder what's out there among the stars?
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"23/07/2064. \n\nIt's 2am. I spent the whole evening out in the garden with the binoculars. Venus was beautifully bright tonight. \n\nLooking at the stars makes me feel how they say meditation is supposed to make you feel. Today it's different though. It's days like this I wonder.\n\nI wonder at the infinite and the infinitesimal. A universe of space cross-stitched with time, incepted with energy. Physics to chemistry, chemistry to biology, biology to psychology, psychology to creation. To art. \n\nI look up to the sky in awe. I see distant stars and transiting planets, bearers of potential life. I see youthful stars flanked by discs of orbiting debris: the birth of the planets some future civilisations may call home. I see archaic, swirling clouds of interstellar dust; the womb from which new stars may emerge. \n\nI look to the billions of galaxies, each containing billions of these occurrences. I ponder the potential of a billion more universes inside every particle of our universe; itself contained perhaps in an atom on the tip of a tree branch planted in the garden of another. I wonder what the planters of that tree see when the look to their sky. I wonder if they wonder. \n\nI wonder about when the tree meets the axe, and what the sound of a billion universes colliding would be like if one only had the ears to hear it, as we became firewood. I wonder if it would matter.",
"She cranes her neck to look upward, through the clear glass at the sky. Far above, the stars sprinkle the night sky like sand on a beach. She’s silent for a long time, examining the view, examining the twinkling stars on the background of the night sky. Her eyes trace along the lines that they make, finding the deep colors of the nebulae between a few to carry her eye to the next. \n\nFinally, she speaks, voice quiet. “No.” Her gaze drops back down to focus on the city they’re dropping towards. Her fingers play across the controls like a musical instrument. \n\nStunned, he stares at her, trying to work around the answer. It certainly hadn’t been what he expected. She’s a pilot. Flying into the unknown is basically what they do. Eventually, he manages to find his voice. “Why not?” \n\n“There’s just space.” She doesn’t raise her gaze to look at him like she had before he asked his question, instead fixated on what she’s doing. “If you’re going to keep asking me these questions, you can go find something else to do.” There’s a sharp tone to her voice. \n\n“Ye—Yes sir. Of course.” He backs away, quick to slip through the rigging and the doors back towards another section of the ship before he can get another reprimand. \n\nShe continues to work for a few moments longer before stopping, hand over the throttle controls. Her head raises her gaze to look back out the glass again. The atmosphere is overtaking the view quickly as the ship drops towards port. Stars and black sky overtaken by the blue and clouds. \n\nWatching until it’s all blue sky, she drops her gaze again. Her hand reaches up to her chest, rubbing a scar cutting from her collarbone towards the center and downward. This close, she can hear the mechanical joints whirring as they move underneath the synth-skin. \n\nSpace. That’s all there was out there. Nothing more, nothing less. \n***\n^(*Feel free to look at my subreddit, /r/Syraphia for more stories.*)",
"\"Sir?\"\n\n\"I asked you a question. You'd do well to answer it.\"\n\n\"Is... That an order, sir?\" \n\n\"No, no. I guess I shouldn't pull rank on you when I'm waxing philosophical.\"\n\n\"Um, right.\"\n\n\"Well, do you? Ever wonder about that kind of thing.\"\n\n\"I guess I've never really thought about it. I've got enough to worry about down here on Earth.\"\n\n\"That's a shame. Back before all of this, people used to have time to think about the big things, the mysteries of the universe. \n\n\"I don't know, sir, even if I did have all that time, I'm not smart enough to try to figure out the stars.\" \n\n\"You don't have to figure them out, son. You just have to watch them, and wonder.\"\n\n\"I'm... Not sure what you mean.\"\n\n\"I guess it doesn't really matter what I mean. I'm just an old geezer, after all. The only thing I'm good for these days is herding you youngsters around to die.\"\n\n\"To fight.\"\n\n\"Same difference. We're all going to die. And by that, I don't mean that death is inevitable, I mean that this war's going to see our entire species wiped out.\"\n\n\"Not if the brass think they're going to die. They'll call it off, then.\"\n\n\"Oh ho, so you do think about things other than being a soldier sometimes!\"\n\n\"I guess.\"\n\n\"Figures it'd be about the war, though.\"\n\n\"Sorry, sir.\"\n\n\"That ain't your fault, son. This stuff started long before you were around to have any effect on it. Don't apologize for how you were brought up.\"\n\n\"Yes sir. Thank you, sir.\"\n\n\"Good night son. I'll see you in the morning.\"\n\n\"Of course, sir.\"\n\n___\n\nIf you liked this, please check out my subreddit, /r/OpiWrites, where I post all of my stories!"
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[WP] Ever since the clock tower froze thirty years ago, your town's been stuck in time as the outside world eventually moved on. Today, the clock ran once more.
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"Day 286\nDear Reader,\nIt’s been almost a year since time stopped for us on 16th January, 2018. By now, you probably know all the ins and outs of our little village, Ashveera. \nYou know how we used to be famous for our green cheese. You know we revolutionised the use of gender neutral perfumes. You know our reverend married Ashley the most famous stripper in town, causing much of an uproar.\nSo now let’s get down to the real juicy stuff - how did we get stuck in time in the first place? How is it that, in this town, no one gets sick; no one dies; no one is born. How is it that, in this town, it’s always 12.01 in the afternoon; always sunny; always cold? How is it that nothing new is ever discovered? How is it that we’re still using the iPhone X?\nTo be honest, I don’t quite know myself. It all started when our clock tower stopped working. It’s a huge ugly thing in the centre of town - right behind the church where the reverend met Ashley. I must have mentioned it at some point earlier. And with the stopping of the clock tower, time itself stopped. \nI don’t even know if my internal clock works anymore. Is it really Day 286? Who knows? Who knows what’s happened in the outside world. We’ve not been able to make any contact with anyone. We’re stuck here in our little bubble.\n\nDay 1589\nDear Reader,\nIf you’re reading thus, and somehow you’ve stumbled across my diary, then some miracle must have occurred. Somehow I’ve managed to send this across our impregnable barrier into the future, or wherever you are.\nSometimes I wonder, what if every single town in the world is stuck in its own little bubble since January 16th, 2018. What if no one has moved forward since then?\nMy girlfriend, Sarah, tells me I’m being silly. She tells me to reap the benefits of immortality. Of not ageing and not getting sagging boobs and wrinkled skin. But I’m so curious to know what happened. Has everyone forgotten about us? Has Ashveera disappeared from google maps? Is the government looking for its 362 missing citizens?\n\nDay 2790\nDear Reader,\nI think that I might be going crazy. No one in this village seems to care anymore. They just go about living life day to day. Our food never runs out because everything is just magically replaced. Our alcohol never runs out. Our drugs never run out. People have turned into animals - living hedonistic lifestyles I never knew (hell they never knew!) they were capable of. \nNo one cares how many days it’s been since it was 2018. No one is even trying to fix that damned clock tower anymore. Even Sarah’s given into the mindless relaxation that marijuana and truffles bring. \n\nDay who the hell cares\nDear Reader,\nThis will be my last entry. I hope that in the last 10 years of however long it’s been I’ve given you enough details of this town that one day you’ll be able to tell the rest of the world about us.\nToday is the day that I’m giving up as well. I don’t think that there’s any point in resisting anymore.\nHold on - I just heard something. \nWas that the clock tower? \nHoly shit it’s working again! It’s -"
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[WP] You're in a great post-apocalypse group. There's a fearless cop, a former army medic, an expert marksman, a great athlete, etc. And then there's you: the out-of-work millennial with just a B.A. in English. You're desperate to become a helpful member of the team.
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"**Please leave feedback if you can. I would really appreciate it!**\n\n---------------------------------------------------------------------------\n\nThe apocalypse took us all by surprise. Whenever someone thought of the end of civilisation, they might have thought of some world-shattering event that broke us. They might have thought of rocks falling through the sky, or of a nuclear war that left us sick and dying.\n\nInstead, the destruction of our society came slowly. It was broken little by little. First came the freak solar flare that destroyed our satellites and left us blind and lost. There had been some who claimed that the “flare” had been a calculated attack gone awry. Their ramblings had been dismissed, first because we didn’t understand at first how much we had come to rely on the satellites that had once circled our planet. Then, the rumours had been dismissed, because without the satellites, everyone suffered.\n\nWe found that we could no longer detect the storms and disasters that grew stronger with each year. They destroyed the power plants that powered our society, and the towers that let us communicate. Hospitals, ships, shopping malls and schools were all flattened by storms, fires and floods. \n\nOur society was eroded away in a matter of years, leaving us to fight one another over the spoils. The rich and powerful barricaded themselves away, jealously hoarding anything, and anyone, that might help them survive. The rest of us were left to fend for ourselves.\n\nI’ll be the first to admit that I’m luckier than most, though I have lost many I cared about. My family were lost to a fierce storm that they could have survived if they had been prepared. But the loss of radios and telephones had left them, and many others, unaware. Those I loved had been dead for weeks before I, who had been living some distance away, had been informed of their deaths. Angry and grieving, I had abandoned my life and left. I had been alone and stupid. I would have been easy prey for those targeting the weak.\n\nInstead, I had stumbled into Mark. \n\nMark had been a conscientious and caring police officer in his youth. He had been close to retirement when his life had changed. What had once been infections that were easily prevented and treated had become killers. Mark had survived a particularly nasty flu. Most of his children and grandchildren had not. Those that did survive were soon killed by the raiders and looters that had been starting to become more and more widespread.\n\nHeartbroken, Mark had decided to gather a group of people who could help others. They were versed in medicine, hygiene, defence, or some other useful skill that they could use to help, and taught these skills to others. They often travelled, saving lives, passing on necessary knowledge, and learning new skills. \n\nThat was how they had met Bobby, who had once been dismissed as a conspiracy theorist preparing for a doomsday that would never come. He had the supplies, though not the all of the skills, needed to survive the apocalypse. \n\nMark had realised that Bobby could provide them with a base where they could live and develop their skills. Bobby had realised that Mark’s group, with their varied skills, could help him.\n\nRosalie and Steven, one a former soldier and the other a martials arts teacher, created barricades and defences against those who sought harm, and taught the innocent to defend themselves. Mala and Josie had been paramedics who had learnt to diagnose and treat injuries and illnesses under pressure. Lily had been a hippie who had taught herself to make soaps, toothpaste, and other household essentials, and Richard had been an experienced mechanic who once fixed cars, and had learnt to deal with all kinds of machinery when it had become necessary. Leo, who had been an agriculture student, coaxed the crops in Bobby’s greenhouse into flourishing.\n\nWhen they had found me and took me in, they had all assumed that I would soon be able to learn to contribute. To our dismay, we found that all but the simplest of tasks eluded me. I couldn’t fight, build or heal. Leo’s plants died if I looked at them the wrong way, Lily’s creations became poison under my touch and Richard became terrified of me after I had accidentally set him on fire. I wasn’t strong, or fast, or skilled.\n\nMark had simply laughed and told me that I would come into my own soon enough. Bobby had threatened me with a painful death if I harmed his precious computers. I simply despaired and sorted the books and other useful materials that were brought to me.\n\nMy first chance came when Leo had complained to me that we were being invaded by mice and rats, who were destroying the vegetables and grains he had harvested. At the time, I had been sorting through various books that Rosalie and Josie had brought back from one of their trips, and found that most had been about training animals.\n\n“Why not get a cat?” I had asked, almost absently. “It would take care of the vermin problem and earn its keep.”\n\n“Wouldn’t you need to train it to catch mice?” Lily had asked.\n\nBobby had snorted at that statement. “Don’t be ridiculous. They’re natural predators.”\n\nBefore they could squabble, I quickly flicked through one of the books I had found, and reported, “Well, it’s a bit of both. They’re born with the right instincts, but they can get lazy if they don’t get much practice. Apparently, it’s best to start with kittens.”\n\n Bobby just stared at me. “Does that book tell you how to train a cat?”\n\n“Yeah,” I replied. “It looks like you just need a few toys, maybe some cat treats and freshly caught mice.”\n\nBobby just nodded and walked away, and I resigned myself to sorting through books again.\n\nThree days later, I found myself with three playful kittens batting at my shoelaces and Bobby and Leo peering hopefully at me.\n\n“Just give it go,” Leo coaxed me. “It would really help.”\n\nHe had said the magic world. Thrilled at the chance I might finally be able to help, I convinced Lily to knit tiny mice and other toys I could train the cats to chase. She agreed to trade me cat toys for any information I found about candle making and other useful crafts in my books.\n\nFollowing the instructions I had found in the animal training manuals, I began to look for dead mice, squirrels and other tiny prey for the Claws, Tigger and Pusheen to eat.\n\nOne day, Richard surprised me by wandering into the little den where I kept my books and asking for a manual for the solar panels Bobby had installed long ago. He barely even flinched when I went near him to hand over the book, and offered me traps that would make it easier for me to kill prey for the cats.\n\nAfter a few months, I set the cats free in the storeroom that Leo used for freshly picked vegetables. To my delight, they soon started to proudly bring me dead mice in return for praise.\n\n“They’re all grown up,” I told Leo, a little teary.\n\nLeo just snorted and asked if me if I would write down any information I could find about insectary plants."
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[WP] A female scientist had created you to be the very first super human, she starts off with your brain and she then gives you brain wave signals to "Create" your body however you wanted, after you finish and exit your bio pod, a group of soldiers barge in and try to gun you both down.
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"He could still feel the emptiness from before. From when he was nothing. The thoughts of watching her work tirelessly to create him. He didn't see or hear her, but he could just tell. It was like a... a sixth sense. \n\nA slight hiss stirred him from his thoughts. As the pod opened, he found the quiet whirring sounds comforting. As the rays of light hit his face, he couldn't help but bring a hand to shield his eyes. Was he outside?\n\nAs his bright grey eyes adjusted, he managed to take in his surroundings. His pod was a bit sunken into the green grass that surrounded the area. A slight wall and half of a building were to his left. A strange slab with even stranger markings was to his two o' clock. \n\nAnd he saw her. \n\nAnila had her red hair pulled back into a pony tail. A few strands of hair had managed to fall and just lightly hang over her eyebrows. Her thin black glasses added to her average, but alluring figure. \n\n\"Oliver, we don't have much time. I had so much planned for you, but--\" She was cut off as an explosion rocked the room. \n\nThe holo-projection faded. The grass diminished, and so did the building. He was in a grey, metal room. Soldiers came pouring into the room. The sound of boots rushing against the metal floor didn't bother Oliver. They were nothing to him. \n\n One by one, the sound of guns clicking into automatic fire and one statement from his creator caused his eyes to flair up.\n\n\"Protect me.\"\n\nThe soldiers began to glow with a bright red outline as he pulled himself out of the pod. They aimed down the sights as his blond hair fell to the sides of his face. \n\n\"As you wish.\" His voice was elegant- like he were made to murmur the gods into rest. Yet it held a underlying tone of authority. And judgement. \n\nHe could feel his simple white clothing cling to his body. He could feel his muscles tightening and his heart slowing as he smirked softly. \n\nThe moment they entered the room was when they sealed their doom. \n\n(Might add more if people/OP is interested. Overall a fun prompt!)\n\n(Please excuse any grammatical errors. I didn't have time to begin (or didn't feel like) proofreading.)"
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[WP] Thirty days without sleep
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"*9 AM, June 14th, 2020*\n\n*Hello, my name’s Dr. Lewis.*\n\n*We’ve officially hit our goal, ladies and gentlemen. The subject's made it thirty days without sleep. Don’t clap your hands just yet, because I’m not so sure this is a victory.*\n\t\n*His body is fully functional, which is splendid. He can still walk, talk, and act as a normal human. If I were to drop an apple, he would watch it fall. His senses are healthy and strong. But the problem arises in his brain. See, while the drug gives him an extra boost of energy, each dose allowing him to reach the next day without sleep, it seems to be damaging his mind. With a lab this small I can’t run the proper tests, but based off his behavior, I’d say it’s fairly obvious.*\n\t\n*He’s incoherent. While there’s a lot he can do, he spends his time shaking or screaming or throwing things. There’s an anguish in his eyes, and when I speak to him over the intercom, he reacts as if I’m a frightening god. His memory’s fading along with his ability to actually do anything, and now, with the test over, I worry he’ll never recover.*\n\t\n*The most intriguing part—to me—is he seems to want sleep. Even now, sitting in the corner, he’s mumbling about it. “Need sleep. Want sleep.” I wonder, is it because his brain believes it’s the one thing that’ll save him? Or have we conditioned ourselves to find comfort in sleeping?*\n\t\n*The latter has merit because, even at the start of this experiment, he never used his newfound time. The room's chocked full of everything from videogames to paintbrushes. He could’ve spent that extra time developing a skill or just lazing about but he seemed…lost. When it got around 11 PM, he would simply lay down with his eyes open. All night.*\n\t\n*I’m sure better scientists than me wil find out the real truth, but I’m beginning to have doubts. Sleep’s such a monumental barrier, and not necessarily a bad one. Wouldn’t our time be better spent researching things which are actively harming us?*\n\t\n*That’s not my decision to make, though. I’m a scientist, and at the end of the day, I shall study what I’m told.*\n***\nIf you like this story, check out my sub! /r/LonghandWriter "
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[WP] you find out that imaginary friends aren't as imaginary as first thought
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"‘Now you take the tea!’ I heard my daughter Joy instruct her invisible friend Mable. I’d grown accustomed to her conversations with her ‘friend’ and didn’t think too much of it; I figured her imaginary friend would fade over time like any other child’s. \n\n‘Let’s go,’ I urged my little girl, ‘you two finish up your tea so we can get to daycare!’ Joy quickly finished her empty glass of tea and waved for Mable to follow her. We piled into the car and headed on our way. Joy was more excited to see her friends than usual; she had grown close to the children and staff during her 3 years in attendance but was especially excited because today, ‘mommy’ was going to be her new teacher. Her first day back at daycare would be my first day at my new job. \n\nMy day started off normal. I shadowed a current ‘Teacher’ during her normal duties and helped with the kids where I could. During the quieter moments I would sit back and watch the kids play. I noticed that Joy was not the only one with an invisible play-mate; many of the children sat together at a plastic picnic table, each with an empty space across from them. I watched as the children’s invisible buddies held their attention so rapt, they all seemed to be having very in-depth conversations in which only about 50% was intelligible speech. I smiled as I watched them jabber away and let my mind wander for a moment before being brought sharply into focus when I noticed what I thought was a tea cup floating in mid-air. I closed my eyes shut and opened them again to be sure of what I was seeing, but when I looked again, the cup rested on the table. I knew it must have been a trick of the light and I put the idea out of my mind.\n\nThe rest of the day went on without further incident and when it was time, we packed up to head home. I grabbed Joy’s hand to lead her outside when she tugged to pull me closer. Giving in, I bent at the waist and gave her my attention, ‘Yes sweety?’ \n\n‘Can we leave through the playground mommy?’ Her expression was solemn and her hand was already pulling me toward the exit. \n\n“Alright, we can…’ but she had grabbed my hand and started pulling before I could finish. She was so excited it almost made me a little excited. \n\nJoy pulled me through the middle of the playground and I could feel tiny pieces of wood chips and sand sneak into the insides of my shoes. She took a path discernable to no one but herself and I followed along between the slides and swings until I thought we better make our way to the gate. \n\n‘Alright hon, that was very fun but I think it’s time to go now.’ I responded just as she had earlier and dug my heels into the sand and wood chips to bring her to a surprisingly difficult halt. She turned around and had a pleading look on her face; one that she had never worn before.\n\n‘No mommy, we are almost at the place. You have to come mommy, please?’ She tugged at my arm, gently like I had done with hers earlier. I couldn’t help myself and figured it couldn’t hurt to play a little bit longer. As soon as she realized, her face lit up and she began pulling me towards the opposite edge of the playground, far away from all the toys, all the way to a corner of the playground that couldn’t be seen from the door. \n\nAs we reached the fence I noticed a small area of the chain link that had a corner loose and pushed out enough to make a hole just big enough for Joy to crawl through. Letting go of my hand for the first time since we got outside, to my shock, she crouched down and began to crawl through the rusty hole in the chain link fence.\n\n‘Honey, no!’ I shouted but she was already half way through. I cringed at the thought of her getting hurt on a piece of the fence and would have pulled her back if she hadn’t been so quick. By the time I registered what had happened she was already through the hole and standing on the other side of the fence. \n\n‘It’s OK mommy, you can fit too!’ She bent down and pulled the corner of the fence open for me to crawl through. \n\n‘Oh no honey, mommy can’t fit through there and we shouldn’t crawl through holes in fences, we could get hurt!’ I wanted her back safely holding my hand but without making her come back the same way she went, we would have to walk almost a half mile to the end of the fence through untrimmed rural landscape. I hesitantly asked her to come back through the fence to me. ‘Crawl back through this one LAST time to mommy and then we’re never going to go through a fence again, ok?’ I reached my hand through the opening, but she didn’t budge. \n\n‘No mommy, you come with me to the place this one last time.’ She said using my own words against me. ‘I count to three, mommy!’ she declared using more of my own methods. I began to formulate an argument that might work on a four-year-old, but she began to wander away as she started counting, ‘One… Two…,’ Suddenly I was struck with the panicked realization that she had the upper hand and if I didn’t want a child lost in the fields and trees, I had better see if I could fit through that hole in the fence. \n\nAs soon as I crouched down to the hole, Joy stopped and watched me struggle through the tiny opening. Although it wasn’t easy, Joy was right, I did fit. I pulled myself out of the dirt and brushed my clothing off. Apparently, either my pace wasn’t quick enough or Joy realized I might make her go back and she ran off ahead of me, almost at a run. ‘Joy!’ I yelled at her, now beginning to lose my cool. ‘Joy! You get back here right now!!!’ For all my pleading she might as well have been deaf because her distance from me was ever increasing. Realizing that I had no choice but to chase her down at his point, I followed her suit and ran after her. \n\nNo more than two steps into my attempted run, I tripped over something and tumbled back into the dirt. As I stood, now feeling an even greater sense of urgency to catch Joy, I lost my balance again feeling tangled with something. Upon further inspection I found that my laces had somehow been tied together. I supposed it must have happened in my climb through the gate or some such thing and corrected the issue and began to follow Joy again who had by this time, left my field of sight. \n\nFinally, I caught up to Joy who had found a stump to sit on. She sat blissfully unaware of my panic, anger, and struggle to find her, and instead made casual conversation with an empty stump across from her. \n\nFinally acknowledging me, Joy turned and waved me over as if to welcome me to sit at her nonexistent table. Although I was already past my limit, instead of getting angry, for some reason I suddenly saw the madness in all of it and decided to laugh instead. \n\nCaught up in my laughter I almost missed my daughter saying to the stump in front of her, ‘No, see, I told you she wouldn’t be mad!’ I felt a wave of relief wash over me, proud of myself for not getting angry. I figured this was just one of those moments that I would laugh about later, once we were both home safe, and decided to indulge in her play time. \n\n‘Alright,’ I started towards the empty stump to take my place at the table, ‘let’s have some tea!’ I began to lower myself onto the stump but before I made it all the way down, I felt a push from underneath and jumped up away from the stump just in time to hear Joy say, ‘They don’t like that!’ as she broke into a fit of giggles. \n\n‘What was that?’ I mused out loud to myself. I stared at the empty stump and then back to Joy – all of this so she could pull her ‘funny’ trick on me? ‘Well that wasn’t nice.’ I began to admonish her and was surprised when she interrupted, ‘Well it isn’t nice to always be sitting on Mable.’ I could see she was being somewhat serious now. \n\n‘This is the place where you can find a friend too, mommy.’ She waved her hand in the air as she said it. All I saw was more grass, trees, and untamed land, but she persisted. ‘You have to look REALLY hard, way better than normal mommy eyes, you have to look hard like I do.’ She squinted and slowly turned her head to survey all that was before her. Since I had already decided to play along, I followed her lead and began squinting and combing the tree line and shrubbery with my gaze. I had never seen Joy so intense and I got caught up in the moment.\n\nAn inner smile built within as I played; for just a moment I felt like a child again too. It was in that moment I saw a flash of sparkle and light somewhere in the distance but as soon as I had seen it, it had gone. Joy must have seen it too and I heard her let out a little shriek, ‘Mommy! You brought a friend!!!’ She tugged at my sleeve and begged me to try to bring it back again, to ‘try really hard!’ Figuring it was probably something easily explained and being curious as to what that explanation might be, I squinted again and genuinely tried to bring it back into view. \n\nAs I squinted and again was lost in that familiar feeling of childhood, it appeared to me again, this time clearly and unmistakably. A large pure white unicorn, decorated with a beautiful iridescent horn which was emitting sparkles, came leisurely trotting towards me. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew he was named Charles; I knew he was my best friend. Like a lightbulb that hadn’t been switched on for years, my imagination began to flicker back to life. Maybe being imaginary wasn’t the same thing as not being real…\n\n\n\n",
"I had an imaginary friend once, as most children do. His name was Noh, he was ten feet tall, with powerful legs as wide as tree stumps. He was frighteningly ugly, his face disfigured, with hair that was matted and smelled like garbage. I was four when I met him, and ten when he left me.\n\nI was always a small child, a full foot shorter than other kids my age. My hair was long, and blonde like wheat. My eyes big and blue like the flowers momma kept outside her kitchen window. I knew I was a boy because my privates were different from hers, but poppa said I was the spitting image of her.\n\nHe would hold me real tight, and tell me how much I reminded him of her. How much like her I looked. Like he was seeing her for the first time all over again. Oh, how he loved her, the moment he saw her, he knew he had to have her. I was four when we lost her, and ten when I lost him.\n\nPoppa couldn't look at me after momma left us. He stayed in his room, in the dark, for weeks I think. I would hear him in there, talking to her, saying such odd things. Mostly he talked about how she was so small, and he needed her so much, and that he was sorry she ever had to grow up. It made me sad to hear how sad he was...soon I would be sad for something else.\n\nIt wasn't long after poppa left his room that I met Noh. Poppa was real sorry for leaving me, he said. He just couldn't face me, couldn't face the way looking at me made him feel. I looked just like my momma did the first time he saw her.\n\n\nNoh came one day when poppa was gone to town. Poppa told me he was getting something special for me, something I needed now that momma wasn't here anymore. I was in the backyard, sitting in my sandbox, wondering if I could make it over the fence around our yard. Then I heard a sound behind me. It sounded like twigs snapping, over and over again. I turned around, and there was Noh, and the sound was him talking. I was five when I could finally understand what he was saying.\n\n\"If you do it this way it will work.\" Poppa was sleeping. Noh was talking to me in his strange voice not very quietly, but I wasn't afraid of poppa waking up. He always sleeps heavy on nights like this.\n\n\"I don't think I can.\" I whispered. I always whisper. Poppa says I sound just like momma when I talk quietly. I don't remember her voice, so I just take his word for it.\n\n\"You have to.\" Noh urged. He looked scared, though at the time I couldn't understand why. Why he seemed so desperate for me to listen to him. I was ten when I finally did.\n\n\"You're getting older, too old now. You have to do it.\" Poppa was sleeping again. Noh only ever talked to me when poppa was sleeping. I think he didn't want to get me in trouble. Poppa didn't like me talking to big people. This time I listened to Noh. I knew he was right, had for a while. It wasn't until that night that I realized how important this was. Poppa had told me this was a special night, our last like it, because I was getting older, and I was becoming more like me. I was much, much, older before I understood what he meant by that.\n\nI did what Noh told me to that night. Noh stayed with me for six more months after that. When the men with shiny badges, and scary guns came. When the lady with chipped nails took me to a big house with lots of other little kids. When the nice couple brought me home, and gave me my own room. When I started to talk to the old man in the big office with the soft couch. Until the day I smiled at my new momma and poppa. Noh was just gone. I was eighty when I saw him again.\n\nI had lived a long life. Married a beautiful woman with a loud, boisterous voice. Been blessed with three children, none of them had imaginary friends. Watched them get married, and have children, none with imaginary friends. By that time I had begun to understand what Noh was, and why I had him. It was the day I died that I learned the truth, though.\n\nMy family had just left my room, where I lay waiting for the moment the Good Lord saw fit to take me home. Noh stepped into the room, though I couldn't see where exactly he'd come from. I was surprised to see him there. After all, I hadn't needed him since I was a child.\n\n\"Noh?\" He smiled at me, for the first time. Before my eyes he changed. No longer was he grotesque, with garbage hair. He was still ten feet tall, legs still powerful, but his face was beautiful. A golden light seemed to surround him, and come from within him at the same time. When he spoke, it took my breath away. His voice was like the loudest of church bells.\n\n\"Hello, George.\"\n\n\"What are you?\" I breathed.\n\n\"I am who I always was. Your friend.\""
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[WP] The tavern at the top of the mountain.
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"It was a long journey and no one had the energy to complain, still, to find a tavern atop this mountain was an oddity. I should've followed my instincts and never entered that accursed place.\n\nI was with my family. An older brother and two younger sisters. Our parents were gone, and we had no place to call home, so we traveled and lived the nomadic life.\n\nMy brother became a mercenary not long after, taking jobs from anyone, and he always brought us with him. Years passed, and we became a unit. My brother, the brave and experienced warrior with his family, hunting and doing odd jobs for survival.\n\nMy sisters were a unit long before. They were born together and had walked the path of strife while holding each other's hands. They were our magicians, loved by the spirits of ice and fire.\n\nMe? I was the lucky one. Physically and mentally weak, I acted as the heart of our family. I loved the three of them, they were my world.\n\n\"Welcome, dear children!\" an old woman greeted us as we entered.\n\n\"Oh, you all look ragged,\" an old man behind a counter said. \"Come, come, don't be shy.\"\n\nI did all the formalities as my brother carried our younger sisters on his shoulder. They were exhausted and had been dozing off as soon as we entered the tavern. The old lady took our belongings and tossed it to a storage room. The old man gave me the key to our room, 108.\n\nThe moment we entered our room, my brother and I were struck by a wave of dizziness. We shrugged it off as exhaustion, as my brother dropped our sisters to a bed.\n\n\"Drink some water before you go to bed,\" my brother said as he walked out of the room.\n\n\"Be careful on your rounds,\" I said and he waved bye. My brother developed a routine of checking the place where we stay, his experiences exacerbated his caution.\n\nI should've stopped him.\n\nIn the middle of the night, I heard a sound. It woke me up. I looked at the other bed, my sisters were still sound asleep. I moved closer to them as the noise continued to occur.\n\nIt sounded like metal clashing against metal.\n\n*Clang*\n\nOne loud sound was all it took for me to wake my sisters abruptly.\n\n\"What's going on?\" the older one said, rubbing her eyes.\n\n\"I don't know, but it sounds bad,\" I said. \"Wake your sister up, burn her lightly if you must,\"\n\n\"Ouch!\" the younger one yelled awake. \"What's the big deal?\"\n\n\"We got to find our brother!\"\n\nThey both looked at me with concern.\n\nThen it happened. The old woman who greeted us came by the door and held my brother's sword.\n\n\"What did you do with our brother?!\" I screamed.\n\nShe shut me up by tossing his head unto my arms.\n\nMy mind stopped and before I knew it, my sisters had shot the old woman with their strongest magic.\n\n\"-snap out of it!\" I felt cold hands. \"We got to get out of here!\"\n\nWe ran as far as we could, but the ground shook and tentacles grabbed hold of my legs. My sisters tried to help, blessed their sweet, lovely soul. I wished they ran instead.\n\nThe tentacles saw them as a treat and attacked them at all directions. They fought well, but the creature, whatever it is, was cunning. It held me hostage, and in that moment of doubt, it took my sisters' lives. They were born together and died together.\n\nI was the lucky one. The ground shook once more, setting me free from the creature's grasps. I ran as fast as I could, I didn't know why I did. It was better if I had stayed. The ground shook again, stronger this time, and the tavern, the creature, and I fell.\n\nWhen I woke, I saw the creature and the tavern's name, \"Dream Eater.\"\n\nI awoke once more, this time at a place so white, with a person in a white coat.\n\n\"There was a bug in the simulation, but I'm glad you're awake,\" I heard him say.\n\n\"There was a tavern,\" I begin to say. \"At the top of the mountain.\"\n",
"The Last Straw stood like a pimple marring an otherwise beautiful plain of snow that ran down to the entrance of the Soul Pass.\n\nThe tavern was built thick and sturdy, with a high-peaked roof to let the snow slide off. Smoke always poured out from the chimneys, for there was never a warm day near the Soul Pass. They were far too high above the world for things like warmth and rain.\n\nScargo missed being warm. The fires burned furiously around the room while he paid the caravaners for the yearly shipment of dried meats and ale. Yet, even with so much fire, he still had to wear three layers of heavy flannel to keep himself warm. \n\nHe remembered days as a child when he'd been warm from the sun alone. That is what he missed. Maybe someday he'd find someone to take his place. Maybe someone else would decide that the Soul Pass was not for them. Maybe someone else would chicken out at the last moment, just like him.\n\n\"So what do you think is on the other side?\"\n\nScargo turned his attention back to the caravaners. They were big, hearty mountain men like him. They had beards that could hide half a chicken and coats wider than a beer barrel around the waist. They were the type to have the same conversation every year and hope for a new answer each time.\n\n\"No one ever comes back.\" Scargo answered the red-bearded one that had asked. \"That should be an answer.\"\n\n\"Just not a fun one.\" The eldest of the caravaners weighed in. His beard was peppered with grey over black. Scargo had known him for nigh on twenty years now.\n\n\"There are those that struggle and fight.\" Scargo decided he would speak true for once. \"Those that can't find a place that feels right. Those that find no peace in a house, or sled, or wagon. The wanderers.\"\n\nBeer was drunk in unison as attention turned toward the elder barkeep.\n\n\"The wanderers don't look for death in a knife. They don't seek the end in a pistol or in poison. They wander to find death with the same unknowns that kept them wandering. They desire to know, in the very last moments, a bit of the unknown. they wish to be privileged with a secret as they pass on.\"\n\n\"A secret?\" Red-beard asked.\n\n\"The only secret that can be kept perfectly.\" Scargo nodded and cracked his knuckles slowly in sequence before continuing. \n\n\"A secret only dead men know.\"\n\n",
"Extremely uncomfortable weather, as always. I don't know if it is just me, but it feels that this mountain weather changes faster than any other place. Yet, here I am, climbing it, waiting to arrive at the top. It is hard since I need to take breaks to getting used to the new air pressure.\n\nToday, I will finish the climb. Today, I will make it. I can see the lights already, cheering for my arrival. I can already feel the taste of food, inviting me to come. I have always loved this place.\n\n \n\n**The Tavern**\n\n*At the top of the mountain*\n\n \n\nI nod at the sign and open the door. Already I can see different faces spending their time there. Lizards, elves, dwarves, werewolves, dragons in their lesser form, demons, toys, ants, orcs, trolls, zombies and today even one vampire.\n\nI smile and take a long deep breath just to feel how much the air stinks. It consists of different species with some weird food odours.\n\n\"Oooo, isn't that you Thomas!\" a loud voice came, as Taurus, the mightiest minotaur ever known, takes few steps with his hooves towards me.\n\n\"Oh, even you made it to the tavern today,\" I said with a grin. Taurus looked around the tavern, took random beer from a nearby table and pushed it into my hand. \"Come, sit with us!\" he said. A drunken pig whose beer was taken looked Taurus, sighed and screamed for a new beer.\n\n\"Oh, Taurus, I should get a room first and put my stuff away,\" I told him with a smile. I still took a sip of that amazing beer. It was one of a kind; shining more than gold itself. I don't know how it is possible either.\n\n\"Ah, we shall wait for you!\" Taurus said, as he took a long sip of his own beer and went back to the corner that consisted of him, five ants, an elf, sapling and a smaller wyvern. Many of them waved at me when I watched there. After waving back I took a path towards the counter. Over there, an elderly lady was arguing with a toy, who wasn't happy with his oil-beer.\n\n\"Tim-Tim,\" I said with a smile, as I reached the counter.\n\n\"Oooooh. Thomas! I-haven't-seen-you-for-a-long-time!\" Tim-Tim said with his emotionless face. I could understand his excitement from his voice.\n\n\"I see, you still want extra-oily stuff,\" I said with a grin while moving my stare to the older woman. She sighed.\n\n\"Of-course! It-is-same-as-spice-lover-wanting-extra-spicy-stuff!\" Tim-Tim said with a straight line, making no pauses whatsoever.\n\n\"Okay-okay, Tim-Tim. You should go back to your girlfriend Chan-Chan. She looks pretty sad that you have forgotten about her,\" I nodded towards another corner of the inn.\n\n\"Oh-shit. Thanks-Thomas!\" Tim-Tim quickly nodded with his toy head and departed away, making room for me.\n\n\"Hello, Mom. I am home!\" we finally had a moment to say hi and hug each other.\n\n\"Thomas! I missed you. How have you been?\" she hugged me back while asking.\n\n\"I finally found them!\" I told her.\n\n\"Oooh?\" Linda finally showed excitement. I put my hands into my pocket to take out something that I had prepared to show her.\n\n\"Let me introduce you: beans which are grown in the ashes of Phoenix. I call them Phoeans! Now werewolves can finally have their own dish!\"\n\nMy mother looked at the beans in my hand and then moved her sight to me. A few tears started to gather in her eyes.\n\n\"Son, you didn't have to!\" she said.\n\n\"No, I had to! After all, I love this place more than anything else in the world!\"\n\n----\n\n/r/ElvenWrites\n\nMercy, Nick :3.",
"It was just an unassuming inn upstate. The Tavern at the Top of the Mountain. The sign inside said it had been founded in 1787 or somewhere around there, and the decor hadn't changed much either, except for a few beer signs and pictures of all the celebrities who were in here back in the old days. Guys like Gary Cooper, Humphrey Bogart, and in the center, the old rat pack themselves. \n\nAs i scanned the place, there wasn't anyone there except the barkeep and a fat dude in a black suit. I'd been told to look for him by my boss, Jimmy. He said the guy wouldn't say much, so I had to introduce myself. \n\n\"Hi i'm Robbie. I'm the guy Jimmy told you about.\" \n\nThe man then took off his glasses, turned around and gave me an angry look.\n\n\"What do you want?\" He told me. He talked like he was from Brooklyn, and he probably didn't like Jersey punks like me.\n\n\"I was told to talk to you.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well we have to go to the back. Okay. \"\n\nHe paused. \n\n\"Why you looking so nervous. We all had to do this. Its tradition. Unless your hiding something.\"\n\nThen he smiled.\n\n\"You half yid or something?\" \n\nI nervously laughed. \"Na, yids are alright though. I got a lot of buddies who's jews.\"\n\n\"Yeah, hell you know Dave Greenspan owns this. Big Dave's alright. Good lawyer too. He'd make a good advisor to Jimmy. But you know, tradition. Can't even let Calabrese' in, and they's practically cousins to us.\" \n\nI kept following him to a back party room, and then down an old dingy staircase. There wasn't anything but concrete down there, and then I looked around the corner and saw all the guys from the neighborhood I knew. And there sitting in the chair was Jimmy Cucci. The Big Boss. The guy who pulled me off the street and said he saw \"greatness in me\" because i beat up a few hoodlums who attacked me outside of a deli. \n\nAll the guys were wearing dark suits, but Jimmy was wearing a white suit. He looked like the old school bosses with his silver hair slicked and sitting there looking over his empire. Usually the guy had messy hair and just wore a track jacksuit jacket with jeans.\n\nI then stopped. Jimmy then said \"come up here Robbie.\" He then gave me a hug and a kiss. \n\n\"Now everybody, lets gather round. And Tommy, go get the fire pit. Okay. \"\n\n\"Why does he need the fire pit?\" I asked.\n\n\"Well, you'll see. He just has to go to the back closet. By the way you look so good. Didn't know you had such good taste.\"\n\n\"You too.\"\n\nJust then Tommy brought out a fire pit and he lighted it. \n\n\"Stand over there, and take this.\" Said Jimmy. \n\nIt was a card of the Virgin Mary. Specifically Our Lady of Perpetual Help. I hadn't been to church in years, but I remembered Our Lady because my mother was in love with that statue at our church. She always prayed to her hoping i'd \"make something of myself.\" Well, now I felt I had.\n\n\"Alright, now stretch out your hands.\" He then pulled out a small knife and put a small cut in my hands.\n\n\"Now smear it on the card and throw it in the fire.\"\n\nI followed his instructions, even though I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach from the blood. I throw it in the fire and then clasped my hands.\n\n\"Now repeat after me. MAY MY SOUL BURN IN HELL IF I EVER BETRAY THE FAMILY!\"\n\n\"May my soul burn in hell if I ever betray the family.\" I repeated.\n\nJust then, i heard a loud noise from upstairs, and soon a bunch of guys that looked like they were from a SWAT team came down. \n\n\"Alright everybody, stay where you are!\" A voice yelled. But just then, one of the guys in the dark suit pulled out a gun and shot at one of the SWAT team guys. But soon they started firing back. I then went to the broom closet to hide.\n\n\"This is agent Robbie Ianello. I'm in the closet. Someone get me out of here once it's safe.\"\n\nJust someone opened the door. I was about ready to shoot but thank God it was an FBI guy in his SWAT gear. \n\n\"You better get out of here we got most of those guys either killed or in cuffs.\"\n\n\"Thanks\"\n\nI then went outside. I say by an FBI car and had some coffee. It was quite a night. I honestly was surprised I made it. I thought i'd be a goner. But then again i always surprised myself with how I was able to infiltrate the family. But maybe it was just luck. Who knows.\n",
"Jason made his way to the front window of the cable car as soon as they boarded. He held out his hand for Hannah, but she kept hers in the pockets of her long wool coat and stopped at the side window to his right. He smiled. “Are you nervous?”\n\n \n\n“No, just looking around,” she replied. The side window looked out onto stubby hills that obscured the view of Albuquerque. Jason wasn’t sure why she wanted to look out at a parking lot and some sparse vegetation baking in the dry summer heat. The forward view toward Sandia Peak was much more interesting, and he said so, but she didn’t reply.\n\n \n\nThe car quickly filled with tourists, and the doors slid shut. “Hang on to the rail, it can be bumpy when it starts,” Jason said, turning toward Hannah. She looked at him briefly, then put one hand on the rail and faced the front window. The car jolted and leaned a degree or two forward, then began its long, upward glide toward the top of the peak.\n\n \n\nJason put his arm around Hannah; he’d intended to pull her closer, but he ended up being the one to move. “I’m so glad mom and dad invited us out here,” he said. “It’s nice to be together someplace so different from home. The desert is beautiful from up here, isn’t it?”\n\n \n\n“Yeah,” Hannah said. She kept one hand in her pocket and held the handrail tightly with the other. Jason thought her knuckles were turning white, but it might have just been the sun’s glare. They rode in silence for a while, until Jason spotted some metallic debris in a small canyon below them. “Do you see that?” He pointed. She nodded. “I read about that, it’s from a plane that crashed there back in 1955. Can you believe they just left the pieces there for all these years? I mean, after they recovered the bodies. But it’s been there ever since.” He thought she might have nodded her head. “You’d think it would be bad for the environment, right?” Jason knew how much Hannah liked to talk about the environment.\n\n \n\n“Mm hm,” she said, and looked back up toward the mountaintop station. The orange-red platform was still small in the distance. They rode the rest of the way in silence. Eventually, Jason’s arm got tired and he put that hand in his jacket pocket.\n\n \n\nWhen the tram reached the top of the mountain, the passengers debarked onto the platform and then slowly spread out. Many went to the viewing railings, some headed for the restaurant building, and a few headed toward the trail that runs along the top of the ridge. “Let’s see what we can see from here,” Jason said. Hannah followed him to the railing, but stood behind him. “Come on, the view is incredible,” he said.\n\n \n\nHannah backed away a little further. “I don’t like the edge. You go ahead.” She tugged on her purse strap and flipped her hair with a quick gesture.\n\n \n\nJason shrugged, turned back toward the vista, and then found he couldn’t enjoy it much, after all. He turned quickly and suddenly felt dizzy. “Wow, I didn’t realize how much being at 10,000 feet could affect you,” he said as he staggered a little. He put his hand to his head. “The air really is thinner up here. Want to go have a drink while we acclimate?”\n\n \n\nHannah looked toward the weathered wooden building. “Sure,” she said, and followed him through the doors. They walked past the information station and a small gift shop on their way back to the restaurant. The early afternoon crowd was sparse, so they selected a table close to the bar. Jason smiled at Hannah and picked up the beer menu. “Huh. You don’t see kolsch very often, I’m going to get that. How about you?” Their server approached; Jason ordered a pint, and Hannah got a Diet Pepsi.\n\n \n\nJason looked at Hannah, but her attention was elsewhere. He could see that she wasn’t having the best time, but he wasn’t sure why. She hadn’t smiled much during the whole trip, now that he thought back on it. In fact, when was the last time she had kissed him? That thought stuck, and he couldn’t get rid of it. It had been a few months since he had asked her to marry him; had it actually been that long?\n\n \n\nTheir drinks arrived. Hannah pulled her glass close to her and pinched the straw distractedly. She was watching something on one of the TVs above the bar. Jason picked up his pint, thankful for the break in his thoughts. The beer was cold and crisp, with just a hint of pilsner malt in the back. He was about to tell Hannah how the ale yeast made kolsch different from most German beer styles, but he stopped. She was still looking far away. The beer was smooth and delicious, and before Jason realized it, he had downed most of it in one continuous gulp.\n\n \n\nJason sat back heavily in his chair. His temples were throbbing and his stomach felt strange. He wasn’t prepared for the combination of altitude and the rush of alcohol. His vision began to narrow, and he was suddenly short of breath. He grimaced, closed his eyes, and put his hands to his temples.\n\n \n\nCurious.\n\n \n\nJason knew his eyes were closed, but he found himself staring at an older couple who were seated nearby at the bar. Almost everything was out of focus, and the man in the couple was a dim blur of black shirt and jeans. For some reason, he was staring at the woman’s blouse, thinking about its flattering fit and how smartly it was cut. Her purse wasn’t worth looking at, but then he focused on the woman’s shoes, which were actually short black leather boots with a buckle. *Jimmy Choo?* He had no idea where that thought came from. *Must be Jimmy Choo. Last year, maybe, but they look so good on her. And with that big platinum RING!*\n\n \n\nJason’s viewpoint tilted suddenly and he felt nauseous. He was looking closely at the ring he had given Hannah when he’d asked her to marry him. Yellow gold. The stone was, well, it was ok. For now. He felt that evaluation rather than thinking it in so many words. His eyes shifted back to the enviable woman at the bar, slid past some other customers in a blur, and then he suddenly found himself looking at himself from across the table.\n\n \n\nThe man he saw there seemed smaller than he thought of himself, but it was him. He’d gained some weight. His shirt was old, but he kept on wearing it. His eyes moved downward slowly, critically. *He needs a new jacket as badly ad he needs a gym membership.* His gaze stopped on his backside; not on his shape, but on the thin bulge of his wallet. Not even a bulge, hardly anything to it at all. He really needed to step it up in that area. What was taking him so long?\n\n \n\n*How long is it going to take him to realize I don’t* want *him like this? I mean yeah, we’re getting married, that’s what you do. But doesn’t he want me to be able to quit working and stay home?*\n\n \n\nJason heard a sigh, as though he were making the sound and hearing it externally at the same time. Then the alien thoughts continued. *Why doesn’t he give me things anymore? There were those cute silver earrings in the gift shop, we walked* right *past them. I mean, I don’t really like turquoise that much, but why doesn’t he ever think to just do something to really show me his feelings?* Jason finally understood that he was somehow watching himself through Hannah’s eyes, hearing her thoughts and, worse, feeling her feelings. His heart slowed, and he thought it might stop forever. \n\n \n\nAt that moment, Jason’s breathing eased and his vision cleared. He looked up just in time to see Hannah’s expression changing from disapproval to neutral. She pushed her drink back as though it didn’t taste right, and went back to looking toward the bar TVs.\n\n \n\n*Does she know I heard all that?* Jason thought in a panic. He covered his own shock by sipping from what was left of his beer. *Did I actually just…* he couldn’t even put together a sentence together in his own mind. He quit trying to think and just stated at her, seeing the outline of her face that he thought he knew so well. *Did that all actually happen?* He continued to stare while his mind churned. *Did I dream it?* He made himself examine the woman at the bar. Her outfit looked just as it had through Hannah’s eyes.\n\n \n\nJason looked at himself. He’d definitely gained a few pounds since he had met Hannah. He was wearing the same jacket he had worn then, too. Then he looked at the slender band of gold on Hannah’s left hand. The ring he’d saved for months to just put down half of the cost. The one he’d picked out after poring over the magazine photos she had left open on her table to get a sense of what designs she liked. The diamond he had sweated over negotiating the price of for five days of phone tag and visits to the store.\n\n \n\nThe ring looked shabby to him now that he had seen it through her eyes. Something that would need to be replaced at some point. He looked down at himself again and wondered if, one day, she might feel the same about Jason himself. But who goes around having visions of themselves through someone else’s eyes? Had it been a hallucination? A blackout dream? A vision of some kind? He didn’t believe in visions, and yet there was something. He sensed it in her. Maybe it had been his conscious mind shutting down to process the way she had been acting lately.\n\n \n\nThere had to be some way to know, Jason thought as he drained his glass. Slowly, he reached out to place his fingertips on Hannah’s wrist. She jerked back as though he had shocked her. She gave him a dubious look. Jason just smiled and said, “Did you notice the silver jewelry in the gift shop window?” Hannah suddenly smiled and took his hand in hers. Jason continued, “I think the turquoise would look good with your eyes.” Her smile faded. “Or, you know, maybe not. I haven’t given you anything since we got engaged. Let me give you something else when we get home to the big city. What do you say?” Hannah’s smile widened again and she wrapped her arms around him. “Yes yes yes!” she said.\n\n \n\n*Something else for sure,* Jason thought. *But it’s not going to be something you like.*",
"*There is a tavern at the top of the mountain. Where the Gods meet. It's not for mortals, no. But then I'm no mortal.*\n\n \n\nLooking back at my home and the withered lifeless body I am leaving behind, I know what I have to do. I bandage my wounds and throw the gun away. Sometimes, you must fight for what you want. And if need be, I will fight each and every single god in that forsaken tavern. I start my journey.\n\nMy body screams in exhaustion. My lungs feel like they are about to burst. But I don't stop. I can't stop. For you see, I am close. I have been walking for a long time but I can almost feel it now. It's near. My legs are cramping up now. I stop for a moment to take a sip of water and stretch a little. I have not felt pain like this in the thousands of years that I've been alive. I relish it. I have become too soft. No longer the warrior that I once was. I keep climbing.\n\n\n \n\n*You see, there is a tavern at the top of the mountain. It is a place where time has no meaning. Where everyone is equal. For if you are in the tavern, you are not ordinary. You are a god.*\n\n \n\nMy legs refuse to co operate with me. I scream in frustration. Not like this. Not after getting so far. I drag my body up the mountain using just my arms. It's tiring. I have to stop often to rest for a minute. I remember the old wrinkled face. The white hair and the veins clearly visible under the skin. It motivates me. I will get there even if I die for it. I find this thought funny. For I am no mortal and I cannot die.\n\nI think back to my past. The early days of humanity. When the darkness was a very real and menacing thing. Humans are still subconsciously afraid of the darkness although they don't know why. The demons that existed then used that darkness to their advantage and preyed upon the humans. The gods pushed back against them. It was an even battle that lasted for centuries. Till they recruited me. I was never afraid of death in the first place and offered my help to the gods. My motivations were simple then. Save my village and my people from the demons. And the gods accepted. And gave me a gift. Immortality. But now, I wonder. Was it really a gift, or a curse?\n\n\n \n\n*You see there is a tavern on the mountain. Where no one has any powers. All the gods are in their human forms. And it is a good thing. If those old fools retained their powers, they'd soon kill themselves off. The tavern is a neutral safe spot. And I intend to start a fight there till they give me what I want.*\n\n \n\nI reach the top of the mountain. I can see the entrance. My legs still won't move. I crawl towards a nearby rock and use it to lift myself up. I look at the shabby little building. It looks more fitting for a bunch of homeless drunks. But what are these gods if not exactly that. They did their job and created humans. They defeated the darkness and left humanity alone to its own devices. Did they not realize that human nature is inherently chaotic. Unchecked, humans continue to destroy their home and each other. Thinking about it, maybe humans are really made in the image of these gods. \n\nSome day, I hope they have to answer for it all. For all the suffering back in the world. And how they are all just sitting in there and drinking. But not today. Today, I am here for my own selfish reasons. I remember her from way back. In her younger days. The fair skin and the dark hair combining to form a contrast that was almost magic. Grey knowing eyes that seemed to look right into your soul. A smile sweeter than all the sweets in the world. And a voice like the angels themselves. I fell in love with her as soon as I met her. The last time I loved somebody this much was probably a few hundred years ago. The only problem, she was mortal. And like all mortals, she died. I have seen so many loved ones come and go. But not her. I will not let her go this easy. I will get her back. Even if I have to fight the gods themselves.\n\n \n\n*You see there is a tavern at the top of the mountain. And the god of death sits there drinking cheap spirits. And all the gods, they owe me a favor. They gave me the weapons and I helped them win. And they said to me, if you ever need something, come to us. We are always there.*\n\n \n\nI open the door and stagger into the run down building. The inside is an enormous mansion coated in gold. Cheap parlor tricks, I think to myself. I am holding on to the table to keep myself from falling. They have been expecting me. The death god and another walk towards me.\n\n\"Welcome, we have been waiting for you for so long.\"\n\n\"Time has no meaning here. You forget, I know all about you and your kind.\"\n\n\"So, tell me why are you here.\"\n\n\"You know why.\"\n\n\"Tell us anyways.\"\n\n\"I want her back.\"\n\n\"There is no coming back from death. You should know. You've seen enough people die.\"\n\nWith a sudden burst of energy even I was not aware I had, I grab it by the arm.\n\n\"I don't care. Do it anyways. You owe me. All of you.\"\n\nWith a smooth single motion, it got out of my grip and moved a step back.\n\n\"We remember what you did for us very well. But you see, she has been dead for over 9 years now. Her body is now a rotten mess that is more fit for the maggots and animals feeding on her. She has already taken her place in the afterlife now.\"\n\n\"There's plenty of you here. Someone will be able to get her back to her old self.\"\n\n\"She is an old mortal woman. Is she really worth all this?\"\n\n\"She is worth more than all of you put together.\"\n\n\"Well, if she is that important to you, why don't you join her instead.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"She is at peace now. In the afterlife, free of all mortal problems. We can get her back here. Many here won't like it, but we do owe you. But for how long? What do you do when she dies again? Instead, why don't you consider joining her instead?\"\n\n\"I'd do it in a heartbeat. I already tried it too. I tried to shoot myself in the head. But this curse that you have given me won't let me die. Can you make me mortal again?\"\n\nSuddenly there is a glass of wine in my hand. \n\n\"A gift we have given you cannot be returned. We cannot make you mortal again. Your soul is now connected to this entire world itself. Till this world exists, you must exist with it. We already told you all of this at the time.\"\n\n\"Then how?\"\n\n\"You see, this is a safe neutral spot. Everyone's powers are neutralized here. If they weren't, we would probably kill each other.\"\n\nAnd suddenly in a blink on an eye, he is back at his position at the bar. Drinking with a wry smile. I look at the glass in my hand and I understand. I drink the wine in one go and smash the glass on the table. I take the shattered glass and plunge it deep into my throat. \n\nA voice speaks, \"Could have shown some consideration for others and done it in a corner or something.\" A lifeless body falls down the mountain.\n\n\n \n\n*You see there is a garden on the mountain. Where you go after you die. Time has no meaning there and you are free of mortal afflictions. I sit there with the woman I love. I look into her eyes as she tells me, \"I was waiting for you. I knew you'd come.\" \"Always and forever\", I reply.*",
"There’s a tavern at the top of the mountain that was forgotten by time. Snow-capped roof defying the summer heat and in disharmony with its surroundings, like a Christmas decoration in June, overlooked by a lush housewife, collecting dust and waiting for December to come ‘round again. (*Oh, honey, it just looks so nice, though.*) The trees, bristling toilet-brush pines sticking out of the green-green ground, wave a fierce greeting as I pass. They’re loyal that way. Slender steel-grey trunks bursting from the earth in perfect little man-made lines, always so ready and proud, knotted branches flapping an enthusiastic *hello* each time I visit.\n \nWhen I’m back in wherever it is I’m supposed to call home, some place with dull walls and a sterile smell, the trees tickle my thoughts. *Do they miss me too?*\n \nThe door is already open, pleasant chit-chat leaking out like a car radio at a stoplight, the clinking of glasses like a rattling chain. If the trees could uproot themselves they’d follow me inside. But I walk past them and they stay put, prisoners to the ground.\n \n“You’re back,” the barman says with a shallow nod of his bald head. It’s reflecting the flickering old lantern lighting like the watery eyes of a frightened horror movie damsel.\n \nThe people, they’re sitting alone at tables for two. All lined up in their chairs, eyes wide and staring up at me, a shell-shocked Guess Who? game board. This is my addiction. This tavern on the mountain, filled up with the people I’ll hold onto like the last snowfall of the season. In the heat of my palm, the snow melts and drips away, leaving my damp hands grasping at memories that don’t want to stay put. Anxious pictures, screenshots, screaming *free me*.\n \n“Joan,” I say. \n \nThe air conditioning kicks on, sputtering once before settling into a persistent rattle, becoming ignorable. I plant myself in the first seat, the rest of the room playing the role of tepid audience, frozen and vaguely watching the the wall. I smile. She’s just as she was the night we met, somber faced and tired. \n \n“Tell me about you,” I ask.\n \n“Five foot six inches, blonde hair, blue eyes, one hundred and forty pounds. No husband,” she’s saying, like baseball card statistics, “No children. No family in the area. Local bar: The Fox and the Hound. Social media oversharer.”\n \n“Tell me about us.”\n \n“I was drunk,” Joan replies, “Walking down South Street, you said you were my ride. Collin. Collin.”\n \nShe’s saying, over and over again in a voice that’s just so annoyingly not hers, “Collin.” A patient, mocking, “Collin, Collin.”\n \n“Collin,” the woman says, hands folded into a little lump atop a manila folder. “Where were you? Just now, where did you go?”\n \nThe cold metal cuffs rest too casually against my skin, rattling as I sit back and say, “There’s a tavern at the top of the mountain that was forgotten by time.”\n \nThe air conditioner clatters and then shuts off. \n\n-----------\n\nEdited"
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[WP] You brag to your friends about your "totally real" boyfriend/girlfriend who they've never met because they "go to another school across town." The next day after class, there s/he is, waiting outside your classroom for you in real life.
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"The bell lets loose with its ear-piercing wail, and the entire class starts scrambling to escape. I made the mistake of dozing off halfway through calc, so by the time I come to half the class has already left.\n\nI start stuffing my papers and textbooks into my backpack, taking the occassional break to rub the sleep from my eyes. Once that's done I make my way to my locker, when I suddenly feel an arm wrap around my neck.\n\n\"Arcade today Kevin?\"\n\nThe voice belongs to one of my best friends, Leinad. I've known him since I began high school, and we're usually hanging out together with my other best friend, Lewis, or Lew.\n\nI turn my head around and see a dumb grin plastered on his face while Lew stands off to the side.\n\n\"Sorry we didn't wait up for you, didn't want to disturb your beauty sleep,\" says Lew, with a smirk on his face.\n\nI shrug Leinad off and grab my jacket from the locker. \"Not today, I'm hanging out with Karen.\" To be honest I just felt like going home today and resuming my nap. Not to mention I already used all my money earlier in the week.\n\nAh Karen. She first came to life a year ago, at one of those weird elementary school \"reunions\" that about nine people go to. I had moved away after finishing elementary school, so I fell out of touch with everybody. When I arrived, everybody was in a buzz about how \"blessed\" they are to have \"insert name here\" in their life.\n\nOf course, I had to fit in, and thus Karen was born. She was my ideal girlfriend. 5 feet, 4 inches. Black hair that flows over the shoulders and a slim figure. Enjoys playing video games and watching movies together. We've been dating since grade 10. Everybody ate it up.\n\nBut one small lie turned into something bigger. Somebody at the reunion knew Lewis, and asked if he had seen or had any pictures of Karen. Initially I kept up the facade so that I wouldn't be outed as a liar. I told Leinad and Lew that I had secretly started dating Karen, but after failing to show proof they turned it into a joke.\n\nDespite this I still kept up the act. Hell, I'd spend hours daydreaming about dates, so I would have something to say in response. I made it out so that Karen was photo shy, so she wouldn't let me take any pictures. I added more and more to the illusion of Karen, and before I knew it, I fell in love with the idea of her. I fell hard, and every time I see somebody who looks remotely like her, my heart starts pounding with the hope that Karen exists.\n\n\"Damn Lew, looks like Kevin's hanging out with _Karen_ again.\" I can hear Leinad's sarcastic tone and I think about coming clean to them. There's no point in pretending anymore, and I could care less about what my \"friends\" from elementary school think.\n\nI retort, still facing my locker and away from them, \"At least I have a girlfriend, unlike you nerds.\"\n\nA voice growled back at me. \"What did you call us?\" I turn around and see Leinad and Lewis glaring at me.\n\nI back up and my shoulders slam into the lockers. \"Wait it was just a joke guys, like we always do! Why are you looking at me like that?\" I didn't know what was happening. I had never seen those faces before, and I could tell they weren't my best friends.\n\nThey start advancing, and their faces suddenly contort and turn into those of demons.\n\n\"Look! Look! I'm sorry, Karen's a lie!\" I scream at them but they don't stop. Then suddenly Leinad leaps forward, with his hand in a fist, aiming straight for my head. I scream and I\n\nwake up. My scream echoes through the classroom and Leinad and Lewis both jump away from me.\n\n\"Shit dude you getting possessed or something?\" Lew's eyes are wide and he's half falling over the desk next to me.\n\nMy heart is racing like a high metronome on steroids, and I lean back in my seat, letting out a sigh of relief.\n\n\"Sorry guys, had a hell of a nightmare.\" I make up my mind then and there. \"Karen's a lie. Sorry I've been lying to you.\"\n\nI turn, half expecting their faces to be demonic, but when I face them they burst out into laughter.\n\nLeinad manages to huff out his words between his laughter, saying, \"Du-dude, did you actually think we believed you at all?\"\n\nI smile softly and I say, \"No, I was just playing.\"\n\nWe go to the arcade after school. I mostly watch, except when Leinad or Lew buy me a turn. In the darkness of the arcade, I let go of Karen.\n\nThe next day of school I'm running a little late, and by the time I arrive class is a few minutes in. I make my way to my seat, and plop myself down next to Leinad and Lew.\n\nThe entire class seems to be in more of a buzz than usual. \"What's going on?\" I ask. The two give me a shrug and the class dies down as the teacher walks in.\n\n\"Alright guys. Some of you have probably already heard, but a new student is joining us today.\" The teacher looks to the exit and says, \"You can come in.\"\n\nAnd then she walks in. Her hair flows behind her back, and she carries a dazzling smile on her face.\n\nShe stops at the front of the room and looks at the class, no, she's looking at... me. Her smile brightens even more and she says, \"Nice to meet you all. My name is Karen. I look forward to enjoying our last year together.\"",
"There she was...and I knew it was her because I had described her again and again.\nEach time creating a figure more clear in their minds, in my mind...and it seems in the, mind of the world...?\n\nMy friend's mouths were open wider than any character of looney toons could hope to be after seeing the very image of perfection that was \"her\".\n\nAnd as she smiled at me a million thoughts raced through my head...but the one that stuck was an image of a billion dollars, and I described and described and described it...",
"Alright. So I lied. Lied, lied, lied. My “boyfriend” goes to school across town. He is totally real. Completely. Absolutely. I tell myself this so often I start to believe it’s true. \nAnd then, after class, I walk outside. And.\nHe’s real. There. Standing there, just like how I imagined him, described him. Wtf. This was messed up.\nI walk up to him, what else can I do? I debate ignoring him. He’s probably a hallucination. But then I see a few other girls turning their heads to look at him, staring. He doesn’t look at them. His eyes don’t turn from mine. I stop in front of him. He smiles, like he knows me.\n“Hey, babe. I got off early today so thought I’d drive you home,” he says, his voice exactly how I imagined it. My friends come out, see him, stare at him, then at me. I give a tentative wave. My boyfriend takes my hand. They stare some more.\n“Bye guys, Nate’s taking me home,” I say. I can’t really believe he’s real but I feel compelled to just go along with it. I don’t want them to know he might be... whatever he is.\nHe walks me to his car. Everything about him\nis perfect.\n“Are you real?” I ask. He winks at me. Winks!\n“As real as I’ll ever be, darling,” he replies, and I sense a hidden meaning.\nWe get in the car. It’s real, too. It drives and turns and everything. Okay. Sure.\nHe drops me off, asks to come inside for a sec. I say sure, we walk inside, and no one is home. \n“Huh. That’s...”\nThen I notice. Everything is empty.\nWell, sort of. But its like...\nOnly three people live here, not four.\n“What’s going on? Where are all my brother’s things?”\n“A choice,” he says. And I understand.\nA choice for who exists. Who is real. My brother or my boyfriend.\n“When do I have to choose?”\n“By the next solstice. In three days.”\n“Well, then. In the meantime.”\nI kiss him with everything I have. I’ll worry about my brother in three days. For now, I’m enjoying this."
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[WP] Actually, Rome was built in a day.
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"\"Wait... so you're telling me that Rome *was* built in a day, Professor?\"\n\n\n\"Yes, yes it was Mark. Despite the common misconception that spawned the phrase 'Rome wasn't built in a day, but they were laying bricks every hour,' we have reason to believe that its original founders whether they be Romulus and Remus of the Roman mythos or some other party, ancient texts tell of Rome being built in a day by a singular man.\"\n\n\n\"And what was his name, Prof?\"\n\n\n\"Bob. He was a builder.\""
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[WP] Demons keep fighting in your back yard waking you up in the middle of the night. You've finally had enough and storm through your back door to tell them to knock it off.
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" What prevented me from going outside at night to begin with? Fear? Maybe laziness? I pondered the option as my glazed eyes stare at my two guests, a demon who happily sips her coffee and another as he bitterly eyes his mug. Had I known demons were quick to reason, perhaps fear would have been subdued.\n\n \"I adore this...coffee Is it?\" The pink demoness spoke with leisure, as if I hadn't caught her about to uproot my tree from the yard. \"It's quite good\" she continued despite my sleep deprived groan.\n\n \"What is it you two have been fighting over this past week?\" My head rolls off my hand to eye the clock. Three in the morning. I never thought life would have taken me here.\n\n \"She's too damn cheery!\" The gray demon spoke in a snarl. \"How the hell am I suppose to conduct my worshippers properly if she's giving them encouragement?\"\n\n \"How else would they know how good they are doing?\" Her smile widened. \"I adore their admiration for our kind\" \n\n \"Hold on...are the both of you hosting a cult in my yard too?\" I recalled the dead birds that laid around my yard each morning I got up.\n\n \"What of it?\" The male slamed his fist onto the table. \"This is exactly why humans need to fear us, not be motivaged\".\n\n \"Are you ever going to smile?\" The female frowned. \"We owe more to these humans than you give them credit for. Look at the hospitality this one offers us!\" She shakes her mug towards me, her way of letting me know that she's ready for her 5th helping. Instead of a debate, I stood from the table to brew another pot.\n\n \"Whatever the case may be...\" My thoughts trailed as my brain stalled, unable to focus on more than one task at a time. Once the brew began, I turned to face my guests, who have been waiting for my suggestion. \"...Cant you find another yard?\"\n\n \"We can't. Not even if we wanted to.\" The male looked to his companion.\n\n \"We are bound to this house much longer than you think. Since before you noticed us.\" I notice the females eyes locked firmly on the coffee pot. \"We had only recently got careless\".\n\n \"So what keeps you here? I know it isn't the view.\" My eyes shifted to the kitchen window, looking out to the wooden fence that sits not far in the backyard. The only worthwhile feature were two bushes planted at an exact distance between one another.\n\n \"There is a sign that we are bound to here. No mortal has found it, cult follower or not\". The male looked toward the wall with a concentrated gaze. \"It's been too long to relay where it is\".\n\n \"So you two are just...stuck here? And you got careless which is what made me notice you?\" Part of me believed I had somehow fallen asleep. But it would be a long dream if it had lasted nearly a week in real time. Plus the exhaustion I felt was genuine.\n\n \"Yup!\" Pinkie had exclaimed as she motioned frantically to the finished brew.\n\n \"Well....any chance you guys could keep it down?\" I pour the mug then pass it off. \"Maybe make a compromise? I don't want to have to call an exorcist if I don't have to.\"\n\n \"We make no promises\". The male scoffed. \"It's far below me to accept any request of a human. \n\n \"You wouldn't actually want to get rid of us, would you?\" She frowned. Not just a regular mock frown, but one filled with betrayal. I averted my gaze as I waved dismissively.\n\n \"Only if it comes down to it, alright? Now I need to get some rest.\" I shuffled off and allowed my guests to see themselves out, my eyes threatening to force shut a long the way."
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